172 Hours on the Moon (15 page)

Stanton and Wilson followed Caitlin to module four. The red emergency lighting flooding the corridors made the whole place
seem unreal. To Stanton it was like a warning that he never should have said yes to the man who came to see him that Saturday
two years earlier. Hadn’t his wife asked him not to do it, too? Yes. But then, he had never really believed that anyone would
give him the opportunity anyway.

Peter D. Stanton had been an astronaut at NASA for six years, but he still hadn’t logged as much as a single second in space.
There weren’t many spaceflights that required a man with his particular engineering background, and the two expeditions that
he had been selected for had been canceled because of budget cuts. Stanton had been content to be an astronaut who never got
to experience space, even though his name was on the crew
list for the next lunar expedition. But that was years away, and Stanton had been at NASA long enough to know that there was
no point in getting his hopes up. A lot could happen in that amount of time.

For many people in the space program, being an astronaut without having left Earth was synonymous with being a failure. But
Stanton didn’t see himself that way at all. Preparation for a space mission took an extraordinary amount of time. Astronauts
hardly saw their families for a full year before they left; month after month of sixteen-hour workdays was the routine. And
that didn’t fit into Stanton’s calendar anymore. Now he had a lot more time to spend with their three young daughters, aged
three, five, and seven, because for a significant portion of the year when he lived up north in his home state of Minnesota,
he almost never got home from work later than three in the afternoon. Stanton had found a balance in his life that made him
truly happy, and as he followed Caitlin to module four, he wished again that he’d made a very different choice on that fateful
day two years earlier.

It had been a totally normal Saturday morning in August. Stanton and his wife, Yvonne, were walking down an aisle in a Walmart,
with the kids in tow, looking for canned tomatoes. When the man in the dark suit showed up, Stanton knew right away who it
was. He didn’t know him personally, but he’d heard a lot about him and knew he was way up the ladder in the NASA hierarchy.
But Stanton couldn’t imagine what in the world this man was doing all the way up here in the upper Midwest, and as he and
Caitlin approached module four, it hit him that he’d never asked, either.

The man had shaken Stanton’s hand and then turned to
Yvonne and said, “Excuse me, but would you mind if I borrowed your husband for a second?” The man never waited for a response.

Without hesitation, Stanton followed him through the store and out into the parking lot. It was raining. The man had two black
umbrellas in his briefcase. He opened one and handed it to Stanton before opening the other above his own head.

“Let me get right down to it, Mr. Stanton. We don’t have much time. Here’s the issue: I’m sure you’re aware that NASA is planning
to send people back to the moon.”

Stanton nodded.

“We’ve decided it will take place imminently. Five astronauts will be going. And three teenagers.”

“
Teenagers?
” Stanton asked, giving the man an odd look.

“Yes. The plan is to send them up in July, two years from now. The rocket will be a — well, what should I call it? — an upgraded
version of the Saturn V rockets from the Apollo program from the sixties and seventies and …”

“You’re going to use an old launch rocket?” Stanton asked, incredulous.

The man waved his hand. “No, no, no, it’s brand-new. It just looks like the Saturn V. The same for the command module and
the lunar lander. Upgraded, somewhat enlarged versions of the ones from
Apollo 11
. You know, TV loves stuff like that. But anyway, yes, where was I? Right. The mission will include a hundred-and-seventy-two-hour
stay on the moon and utilize DARLAH 2 as its habitat.”

“Dar … what?”

“DARLAH 2. An unused lunar base by the Sea of Tranquility. Built back in the seventies.” Stanton raised his eyebrows. He
simply could not believe what he was hearing. “You’ll learn the who, what, where, when, and why of
that
later, Stanton. The immediate issue is that our engineer, Riley, has to withdraw from the mission. His wife is expecting
his third child.”

“Good for him,” Stanton replied, still baffled by everything the man had just said. He hardly knew where to start asking questions.

The man looked peeved and remarked snidely, “Yes, of course, let’s all put on paper hats and throw him a party, eh? Anyway,
that’s not the point. The point is this: Mr. Stanton, we would really like to have you on the team next summer for this moon
mission. Are you in?”

Stanton didn’t know what to say. What was the man saying? That he could go to the moon after all? But he had given up on that.
Totally and completely.

Or had he?

Yvonne found the two of them out there in the parking lot and realized instinctively, in the way only a spouse could, what
the conversation was about. She wasn’t going to risk losing her husband to space. She’d finally helped him forget that dream.
She rushed up to them, shaking her head vigorously. “No. Whatever it is you’re asking, he won’t do it.”

The man from NASA pretended not to notice. “I’m sorry to have to be so impatient, but I’m afraid time is of the essence. So,
Stanton, what’s it going to be?”

If only he’d listened to Yvonne that day.

Caitlin, Wilson, and Stanton reached the equipment room a minute later. Heavy spacesuits in a variety of sizes hung on the
walls, along with boots, gloves, helmets, and oxygen containers. Caitlin quickly found the equipment they needed and started
getting them into their suits.

“We need tools,” Wilson announced. “And the plans for the generator.”

Caitlin disappeared into the next room and came back with what he’d requested. She helped them hook up their oxygen tanks
and asked them to put on their helmets before she sealed them into their suits. Then she took them by their arms.

“Can you hear me?”

They both nodded.

“Good. Do you see this gauge on your left arm? That shows how much oxygen you have available. We haven’t had time to fill
them up completely yet, so there’s only thirty-five minutes in each. Pay close attention to your gauge and maintain radio
contact, okay? I want reports on everything that happens in there.”

Stanton eyed Caitlin uncertainly. “What do you mean,
in
there? We’re going outside.”

“You have to go outside to get to the hatch that provides access to the generator. It’s one level below us, which means you’ll
have to climb down the ladder and follow the corridor in. Use the flashlights and look for any obvious breaches in the power
supply before you start troubleshooting. And please, remember, guys — I know you know this already, but under no circumstances
can you take your helmets off down there. There’s no air supply to that room, and you’d suffocate in seconds. Do you understand
that?”

Two helmets slowly nodded.

“Then it’s time. Come on.”

Stanton and Wilson followed Caitlin into the decompression chamber, where she asked them to get ready. She went back to the
equipment room, sealed the hatch, and started the procedure that emptied the chamber of air. After that she opened the outer
hatch, and the two men made their way outside.

The sky above them was blacker than anything they had ever seen before, and yet the sun was reflecting brightly on the gray
surface.

They felt very far from home indeed.

Stanton and Wilson carefully made their way around the outside of module four, looking for the hatch to the power generator.
They spotted it right away, right at ground level, just outside the building. They found a wheel on top of the stainless-steel
hatch, and together they tried to rotate it. But it was fastened tight, as if it were sealed shut, and their clumsy astronaut
gloves didn’t make the job any easier. They had to squat down and force the wheel with all their strength — but finally the
hatch opened.

Wilson shone his light down into the hole.

Did he see something?

He strained to see and felt sweat trickling down the back of his neck.
Yes
.

There
.

There was a ladder there, just as Caitlin had said. It extended forty to fifty feet down into the darkness.

The two men exchanged glances.

“What do you think?” Wilson asked.

Stanton leaned over the hole. “I’ll go first.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. Wait until I’m down before you follow. I’ll give you the go-ahead.”

“Okay. Caitlin, do you hear us? Stanton is climbing down the ladder now.”

“Received, Wilson,” a female voice came crackling through the comm speakers in their helmets. “Stanton, watch your oxygen
tank when you enter the opening. You don’t want it to get stuck. The opening’s quite narrow.”

“Yes, I see it. I’ll be careful.”

He kneeled down by the opening, backed into place, and set his feet on the top rung.

“I’ve got a foothold. I’m climbing down now,” Stanton reported. He cautiously jiggled the oxygen tank on his back through
the opening and climbed down, rung by rung. The actual hole was scarcely bigger than he was with all his equipment on, but
with a little acrobatics he made it down to the bottom of the ladder. He turned his light inward and saw the narrow corridor
Caitlin had mentioned. It couldn’t be more than twelve feet long, and he caught a glimpse of the generator at the end.

“I’m down. Everything okay,” Stanton reported. “It’s tight, but there’s just enough room for two.”

“I’m coming down,” Wilson replied, and began his descent.

In the meantime, Stanton investigated the corridor more closely. Thick cables covered the ceiling and the walls, but as far
as he could see there was nothing wrong with them. He continued down the corridor, checking his oxygen gauge. Still twenty-eight
minutes left. There wasn’t any to spare, but it ought to be
enough. He noticed the beam from Wilson’s light behind him and was relieved to see that his colleague had made it down safely,
too.

“Found anything?” Wilson asked.

“Nada. Let’s take a look at the machinery.”

They moved over next to the generator and ran their lights over the panel.

“Would you … are you seeing the same thing I am? Do you see that? There?” Wilson asked, pointing to where the main switch
should have been. Half the panel appeared to have been smashed.

“Yeah,” Stanton replied, stunned. They shone their lights up at the ceiling but didn’t find any signs of anything that could
have fallen and hit the panel.

“It’s just destroyed, Wilson.”

“Wilson, what’s the status?” Caitlin’s voice came over the intercom again.

“One second, we’re investigating. It seems that …”

“Maybe we can hook things up somewhere after the panel? Remove the cover? That would make the job easier, don’t you think?”

“Guys, what’s going on?”

“Caitlin, we have a problem.”

“A problem? What problem?”

Stanton passed on the information: “We’re going to try to take off the cover to see if we can circumvent the switch.”

“Check your oxygen,” Caitlin reminded them. “How much time is left?”

“Twenty-two minutes,” Stanton reported.

“Okay, see what you can do.”

Wilson pulled out two screwdrivers from the tool bag. Stanton took one and started loosening the left side while Wilson went
to work on the right. They both worked as fast as they could, but it still took them close to ten minutes to get the whole
cover off. It still wasn’t looking good. Whatever it was that had hit the panel, the force had been so great that it had destroyed
nearly all the wire connections and circuit breakers and made one big salad out of them.

“I’m not sure we can make it, Stanton,” Wilson said. “It’s totally destroyed, and time’s running out.”

“Wait a minute.” Stanton pushed Wilson aside. “Let me try it. Pass me a pair of pliers. And get the blowtorch ready.”

“What are you going to do?”

“We’ll open it up and cut our way into the main breaker. With a little luck, we can solder in a new line.”

Wilson seemed frozen.

“Wilson? The pliers?” Stanton urged.

“We’re not going to make it,” Wilson responded, stunned.

Stanton refused to listen. “The pliers, please.”

“Stanton, look at your gauge. Eleven minutes. And we need at least six to get back to DARLAH. I’m sorry, but this lunar mission
was just canceled.”

“Damn it, Wilson, don’t give up. The pliers,
now
! Every second counts!”

“Caitlin, we’re coming back,” Wilson reported. “There’s nothing we can do.”

“Received,” they heard Caitlin say.

Deep down Stanton knew Wilson was right. Soldering in a
new line would take time. A half hour at least, maybe more. If they could even find the right place to attempt the hookup.
The only choice was to head back. He couldn’t even bring himself to think about what the others would say. And the teenagers,
those poor young kids …

“Stanton, we have to
go
. Now!”

Grudgingly he followed Wilson back to the ladder. Wilson stopped on the first rung.

“Stanton?” he said slowly. “I didn’t close the hatch when I came down.”

“So?”

“It’s closed now.”

They looked at each other.

“Maybe it …” Stanton bit his tongue. It hadn’t blown shut; nothing blew shut in a vacuum. “Are you sure?”

“Totally sure. Seven minutes left on your oxygen gauge. Let’s get this baby open.”

And they tried. And tried.

They could have slammed their bodies against the hatch until they nearly killed themselves, but it wouldn’t have changed a
thing. Because that hatch was locked.

From the outside.

“Caitlin?”

She heard the panic about to overwhelm Wilson’s voice. He was hyperventilating in his helmet.

“What is it?”

“Bad … news. The hatch. It’s locked.”