For my story this week, I decided to try something that I have never done before: write a historical fiction piece. I figured the story would be a fun and patriotic complement to the July 4th holidays. Normally, I get so wrapped up in history that it is hard for me to fictionalize something. One of the nice things about this story is so much of the event is still "classified" that there are plenty of holes for me to fill.
Anyway, I hope you let me know what you think. If you're interested in reading more historical fiction pieces, let me know.
Thanks,
James Meadows
Winners, Losers and the Great Space Race
by James J Meadows III
Losing. That is what we were doing: losing. And it wasn’t pretty. If it was pretty, we wouldn’t have been standing there, inside an old abandoned salvage yard, whose rotting interior smelled more like a sewer bin than a laboratory, waiting on a truck that might never arrive. Still, it was a risk we had to take.
I suppose you could consider it a study in contrast. On the one hand, you had us, a country racing toward the moon; or limping was more like it. After two years, we hadn’t even managed to get a single shuttle off the ground. Meanwhile, the Soviet Union had already landed one probe on the moon and put another in orbit. Both lunik probes, conveniently like the one touring Europe. Okay, exactly like the one touring Europe. In fact, Russia was so proud of their accomplishments, they didn’t even both sending a replica. They sent the real thing; which was why we were here.
I glanced at the people on each side of me, waiting breathlessly in the cool evening air. As I did so, my eyes fell upon the face of Veronica. She wasn’t looking at me, of course. I was beneath her notice. I doubted she even knew my name, though I had introduced myself to her when I arrived that morning. She was too distracted to even give me the time of day. I couldn’t say I blamed her.
Veronica was about as far above me as the moon was above the countries trying to reach it. She was everything I was not: attractive and fit, even the civilian jump suit couldn’t cover that beauty; powerful and commanding, no one questioned a word she said; and a darn good agent, a part of the team that two weeks ago had infiltrated past the heavy Soviet guard to verify the Lunik’s authenticity.
I, on the other hand, was short and plain looking; my lanky build certainly not powerful or commanding compared to the muscular men comprising the rest of the group. On top of that, I was a newbie, only on my second mission, armed with no fancier equipment than a standard camera and assigned the particularly unimpressive job of snapping pictures. Like I said, not quite in the same league, to put it mildly.
I drew my attention back to the present. In the distance, I could make out the hazy form of a Russian freight truck heading our way. Several agents drew guns and crouched behind boxes, while the rest of us, dressed in our civilian costumes, shuffled nervously as the transport grew closer.
Considering the fact that we were expecting the truck, and that it was the whole reason we were here, and that it was arriving perfectly on time, it’s appearance should probably not have caused quite so much alarm. Still, in our profession, anything can be a trap. We were already playing with fire by stealing one of the most expensive and powerful pieces of technology owned by the Soviet government. One wrong slip and this ‘Cold war’ could turn ‘Hot’ very quickly.
The vehicle pulled into the gate and drove to the correct spot. We could see our drivers through the window, though my own eyes were focused on the road behind them, spotting for any signs of someone having followed. I saw nothing but that wasn’t surprising considering visibility was almost non-existent on the overcast night.
Veronica took charge of the situation.
“Do you have it?” she asked.
“Would we be here if we didn’t?” The man responded.
“Any indications or signs of being followed?” she continued.
“None,” the driver said. “We sat on the road for the prearranged time and made contact with our lookouts. There were no signs of escort.”
“What about the driver?” she asked.
“Everything went as planned. He received his money and is hiding out at a hotel with several of our agents.”
“We have confirmation,” shouted an agent, holding a walkie-talkie. “The man watching the shipping yard has taken the bait. He believes are packages are there and has left for the night. We have two agents tailing him.”
“Excellent,” Veronica said, giving a cold smile. “That is what those Soviets get for all their secrecy. So eager to keep their numbers secret, they don’t even tell the check-in guard how many packages are supposed to be there.”
She gave a satisfied chuckle.
“Alright everyone,” she shouted, becoming instantly serious. “Let’s look alive. We have until the inspectors arrive in the morning to get this thing taken apart, put back together and back to the storage building where it belongs.”
“You two!” she shouted, pointing at the men next to me. “Get that lid off, and don’t forget to disable the trigger mechanisms so they won’t know it was opened. You two, get the note pads and pencils, we’ve got lots of writing to do. And as for you two…”
She turned to me and the man standing beside me.
“Get your cameras ready and act like you’ve got a real job. Snap to it! We’ve only got one shot at this, people!”
She turned and marched across the room. I bristled angrily. Yes, she may be attractive and, yes, she may be well out of my league, but that didn’t mean I had to take her insults.
“Who does she think she is to address us like that?” I fumed to my companion.
He gave a small chuckle. He was several years senior to me and, I would have figured, the person most insulted by the comment. To my surprise, however, he didn’t appear insulted at all.
“Listen to me,” he said. “That woman worked with aviation legend Jerrie Cobb building planes at Aero Design and served with her on the women’s branch of the Mercury project. She could be working at Nasa right now, if she hadn’t given it up to help the CIA’s space race initiative. Maybe we can kidnap a probe, but when it comes to taking it apart and putting it back together, this is her baby! If she says ‘jump’, I’m saying, ‘how high’. I suggest you do the same.”
Great, I thought, if looks and skill didn’t take her out of my class already, she had the brains to boot. If there was ever a definition for the term ‘high above me’, she was it!
While the men opened the hatch of the crate, I started scanning my film and equipment, to make sure everything was in order. It was hard to see with only a few lamps providing limited illumination. Unfortunately, we couldn’t risk anything brighter.
After a few checks of the film rolls and a review of the camera, I verified that everything was as set and ready as it could be. All I could do now, was wait for the lid to get removed.
Boom!
With a loud rumble, all the lights in the facility sprang on at once, bathing our entire operation like the midday sun! Several of the agents reached for their weapons, other dove behind boxes, and the rest of us, with slower reflexes, simply froze. Every mind had only one thought passing through it. Ambush! Somehow, we had been tracked and followed; somehow we had been found out, somehow they have managed to catch us completely off guard; and somehow we were all about to die.
My breathe caught as I stood there, camera in hand, not even armed with a weapon, waiting for the swarm of Russian guards and KGB agents to burst through the gates. No one said anything; there was nothing to say. No one did anything; there was nothing to do. And, no one heard anything; there was nothing to hear.
After a few minutes of silence, it began to dawn on us that nothing was happening. One to the other, we all glanced around. Where were they?
Then, laughter broke the stillness. It was Veronica.
“It’s an automatic light,” she said, relief obvious in her voice. I watched as she lean against some nearby crates, her hand clutching her chest as though to still her rapidly beating heart. “The buildings must be set with automatic security lights. It’s alright; false alarm.”
It took a few moments for the message to sink in for all of us. When it did, there was a general sigh of relief, along with a few others who shared in laughing off the false alarm. For me, I took solace in not only the fact that there wasn’t a genuine alarm, but also in seeing Veronica laugh and hold her chest. Perhaps there was a human side to her after all.
From there, we got to work. The additional light overhead proved useful as we plowed away, wandering around inside the crate in our socks to avoid footprints. Hour after hour, we worked, some taking the craft apart, others making notes and myself snapping pictures as the night raced by. I can’t guess how many rolls of film I went through any more than the note takers can guess the pencils they wore down. In the end, though, we got it done. All that was left was to put it back together, get it back in the box, and get the box back where it belonged.
While they worked on reassembling the Lunik, I sorted and packed the film in preparation of the flight back to Washington. As I did, I heard a shout from across the room. It was Veronica.
“Just plug the cords in, alright?” she shouted.
“I’m trying,” shouted back an angry voice. “How the hell am I supposed to plug them in when I can’t see what I’m plugging them into?”
I crossed back to watch. Apparently, a rod, which held other mechanisms in place, was giving them problems. Various cords needed to be attached to one end corresponding with an orb that needed to be attached at the same time on the other end. The set-up of the module’s plates made it impossible to see either end from the outside. Veronica was crammed inside a small section of the lunik’s nose, trying to fit an orb into position while guiding the workers on the opposite end. The problem is, the other compartment was too small for anyone to fit inside, meaning the other man could neither see nor reach what he working with.
“I don’t care how the hell you do it, just do it,” Veronica snapped back. “We have to get this done or nothing else will align.”
“There is no way to do it,” the man replied, exasperated. “We need someone who can get inside.”
“Well, I can’t be two places,” she shouted back. “This has to be attached here at the same time that piece is being connected.”
“Well, there’s no one else who can fit inside this compartment,” he called back. “So what do you want us to do!”
“I can fit,” I declared, jumping to my feet.
“Shut up and let the real professional deal with this,” she shouted at me before turning back to the other man. “Try again! We don’t have much time! If we don’t get this done, we’re dead! Get it!”
The man leaned against the probe, stretching to reach the section. It was no good. Minute after minute passed, as they struggled but, in the end, it was apparent they weren’t getting anywhere. Time was running out.
“I can’t do it,” the man said, at last. “We’re almost out of time!”
Veronica gave a sigh. She seemed too tired and stressed to argue anymore.
“There’s nothing for it,” she said. Her eyes fell on me. “Do you think you can do it?”
“Yes,” I answered confidently.
“Then, let’s get in there!” she replied.
I hurried to the engine compartment. I wasn’t entirely sure if what I said was true. The compartment was awfully cramped. Still, none of the larger men were going to be able to squeeze into there and, if I couldn’t get in, we were dead already.
With a great deal of effort, I forced my way inside. It was pitch black in there, the flashlight almost useless as my own body blocked most of the light. Even from inside, I still couldn’t see the area I was trying to plug the cords into because it was blocked by a metal plate. No wonder the other men couldn’t do it.
“Alright, find the red cord with the marking that looks like a lower-case ‘b’,” she called to me.
I found the cord and began to follow her instructions. Slowly and meticulously, we worked together to get the various cords attached. Alone inside the module, it was just her and I, separated by no more than a couple of inches of metal, the only people who could save the mission, working together; her able to see what I was doing and muttering instructions to me; me unable to see anything I was doing, relying solely on the sound of her voice. After what seemed like an eternity, really it was only an hour, we got all the pieces connected and the rod snapped into place.
A sigh of relief issued from all of our lips. The hard part was done. Putting together the rest of the module went rather quickly. By the time the agents arrived from the hotel with the van’s driver, everything was set and we sent the probe was on its way.
I headed to grab my cameras and equipment. To my surprise, I found myself face-to-face with Veronica. She gave me a sheepish smile and brushed her tangled hair behind her ear.
“Sorry about the comments I made earlier,” she said. “I was just really stressed out. You did a great job today. We owe you everything.”
“It was nothing,” I said, trying not to blush as those bright eyes gazed into mine.
“I guess you’re heading back to Washington after this?” she asked.
“Yes,” I replied. “How about you?”
“I have a little clean-up I need to do and then I’ll be heading back in a couple of days,” she said.
I gave a nod unsure what else to say. Fortunately, I didn’t have to say anything.
“Hey, once we get out of here, do you want to grab some coffee or something,” she asked.
“Yes,” I replied. “I’d like that.”
“Me, too,” she said. She gave me a smile, then turned away to start packing up.
I smiled. Turning around, I gazed over my shoulder at the disappearing truck. The wide gap between the Soviet Union and ourselves had just grown a lot smaller, and so had the gap between me and Veronica. I, like my country, was losing no more.
No comments:
Post a Comment