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"Eagle, I am seeing something." Astronaut Michael "Mike" Collins called over the radio. He squinted harshly into his reconnaissance camera, blinking twice, thrice and even four times, confused at what he was looking at. Eventually, he composed himself and decide to rely on what his eyes told him.
"Eagle to Columbia, Copy. Whats going on, Mike?" The voice of Astronaut Buzz Aldrin spoke.
"I am seeing something. I would say around 30 - 31 miles South-South East."
"What is it."
"I swear my eyes are tricking me, but I could see the LK and it has not staged."
Astronaut Neil Armstrong, who was hammering against a light beam making sure it focused onto the broadcasting camera for the next day's stream, stopped to turn and face Aldrin, the latter doing the same. Armstrong spoke, "What do you mean not staged?"
"I can see what looks to be the passive plate docking port. So I am assuming the LVA is still sitting there."
A moment of paused was shared. "Mike, Leonov came back home. There should be no LVA."
"Houston to Columbia, do you copy?" A radio voice, static and mildly unclear, blared through the radios on board the Columbia module and the two astronauts on the surface.
"Loud and clear, Houston." Aldrin called out.
"Mike, did you say that you saw the LVA of the LK module still on the moon?"
"Yes. I could swear that thats what that is. I don't see the caving where the LVA's ascent engine would be slotted into. I can clearly see a circular plate with four landing legs jutting outward." Aldrin pushed against the camera and the gravity space allowed him to float towards the wall, where he rested and focused on his breath. Biases and opinions began flooding into his mind that he attempted blocking out.
"Give us some time, boys. We'll get back to you. Until then carry on with the schedule, you guys."
"Roger that, Houston." said Armstrong. The astronauts would continue with their work. Each of them pondering about the present state of what they had observed, they seemed rather helpless to satiating their own curiosity, Aldrin the most of them all. Their present mission does not allow them to stray too far off from their landing site. Hence, impaired by scarce resources, the mission would continue as it would and the very next day, Apollo 11's Lunar Lander would ascend off of the moon's surface.
* * *
"SEP... Burn's complete. Bye-bye." Astronaut Alan Bean called out.
"Time of burn: 109:23:39. And we are descending away from parking orbit." Astronaut Charles 'Pete' Conrad called out.
The Lunar Module Intrepid began its second powered descent soon after for around 717 seconds. Conrad and Bean were well informed of his landing site, having personally educated of it by Armstrong, Aldrin and Collins themselves. Conrad had a sharp directive of the pattern of the craters to locate a single one - Little Moltke, Armstrong called it. It would be distinct in its looks by a higher brighter shade of albedo around the crater. It would be very easy to locate.
"Feeling good?" asked Bean.
"Not really." Conrad replied. "(Ewen) Whitaker better be right with the landing site. Everything here looks like a Bomb went off."
"Technically it did. Millions of them."
"Woah! Hold on. I see it." Conrad exclaimed. The crater was just as he had seen pictures of, taken by Apollo 10. It was bright and brilliant, oddly neat and perfect with a smooth bowl like interior. And inside the interior stood a foreign structure. In its whole form: Luna 16, the first Soviet Lunar Lander. "Intrepid to Houston. We see the LK module. And... Collins was right."
The Intrepid would eventually land about a few yards away from the Southern edge of the crater. Conrad and Bean would set foot down as the third and fourth Americans on the moon. Conrad joked, "Whoopie! Man, that may have been a small one for Neil, but that's a long one for me!".
Bean laughed, "Haha! How long have you been meaning to say that?"
"Since the day I made that bet."
"Sorry. What bet?"
"Ah. I'll tell you about it later."
The mission was being prepared for. Conrad pull out a flagpole and Bean a colour camera, as directed with the intent of improving the television broadcast quality. Unfortunately, when Bean set it up, he inadvertently pointed it at the Sun. Within minutes, the broadcast ended, preventing any further coverage. Conrad reassured that at the least, the camera worked and would be suitable for the forthcoming Apollo missions.
After a photograph taken by Bean of Conrad holding up the Star-Spangled Banner, setting up a few geological instruments around the LM, they went in to it and took a break. Astronaut Richard 'Dick' Gordon from the Clipper, orbiting the moon, had a few minutes of connection with Conrad and Bean down on the surface. "How did it go boys?" He asked.
Bean said, "Conrad won a bet, I broke an expensive camera, we had a tough time with the flag and the ALSEP. so far so good."
"Sounds like quite the journey for four hours."
"You don't say!" Conrad laughed.
"Well, enjoy your rations of dry bread and soup and sleep well. You two have quite the expedition tomorrow."
"Roger that, Dick."
"Very good. Yankee Clipper, out."
"Intrepid to Clipper. See ya." And with it the connection ended.
They would have around 23 hours to relax themselves. After a not so pleasant meal, the two engaged in conversation before a nap. "Anything on your mind?" Bean began.
"What do you mean?"
"You have been thinking for a while. Like a week now."
"Its just what Collins said."
"Collins?"
"Yeah. I know he talked a lot with Gordon but I couldn't help but swing a few beers with him. And it just stuck with me."
"And what was that."
"That he was supposedly, 'scared to know the truth.'"
"You don't say. Out of the blue we see an intact LK. Who knows what would be up."
"Its just bizarre. You know? We've all had that suspicion. Not a lot of us thought too deeply about it but we've all had that suspicion. Oriana (Fallaci) went mad over it."
"The journalist you made that bet with?"
"Yeah. She told me that nobody could get an interview with Leonov."
"Oh, yeah. Radiation exposure. We'll have to go through that procedure that Neil and Buss went through, you know?"
"Mhm. What do you think about all this?"
"I mean. We all saw him coming out of the re-entry vehicle. All I can think of is some different Lunar mission that they kept under the rugs. Red reputation and what not?"
"You really think they could pull off another lander in a day?"
"Its been four months since Neil and Buzz got here before us and those Commies performed two successful landings. I think I can believe something as insane as a launch in a day."
"They are just throwing everything on the wall."
"Well, they sure would rather run their country down to hell just to keep doing better than us."
"We are not any better!"
"I never said we weren't." They laughed. "Knock yourself out. Whatever this is, good news, we got intel for the boy back home. Bad news, we bring nothing back, focus on the crater and go back to Dick."
"You're right."
* * *
The moon walkers began cautiously approaching the crater, fearing that they might topple over and hence walking along the contour of the crater. However the found rather good footing and managed to descend with little worry. At the bottom they saw the LK module, positioned right by the shadow of the crater, with its LVA still attached to the landing legs. It was smaller than they had thought - about two-thirds of the size - and it looked every claustrophobic from the outside. The two had a modest living in the Intrepid but the LK looked awfully crammed. It made sense why this machine was made for one cosmonaut.
They approached the lander, accessing the surroundings, describing in detail what they observed to Houston, all the while taking pictures of it. Everything on the lander seemed rather tidy and neat, with no seemingly no cause for it to have been abandoned for any reason. The ladder on the lander was deployed, meaning Cosmonaut Leonov had indeed walked around the crater. They analysed the high-gain antennas on the side of the lander and to their sights, it had no observed damage.
Conrod had a strange inclination about the whole ordeal and attempted something rather bizarre even to his later conscience. He walked up to the ladder, caressed the rugs as if to see if it could handle his weight and placed one leg on it. "What are you doing?" asked Bean but Conrad did not respond. He walked up to the closed hatch of the module and looked at its design. It would swivel in an inclined manner, making it difficult for anyone outside the lander to get in. Conrad, with no rationale reason, knocked on the hatch. Bean chuckled at the attempt, assuming Conrad was making a joke. He wasn't.
"Look!" Bean called out. Conrad and Bean got close to the Lander's underbelly.
The former would kneel down and focus on the surface under the lander. "Yep. Thats frozen liquid. Houston, I think we are seeing frozen liquid fuel. Probably from the tanks of the LVA."
"Is there a leak around?" Bean walked around the lander and assessed every inch of the lower segment of the lander. "Found it." Conrad walked around to Bean. Around the rim, dividing the LVA from the battery box and the landing legs, a vertical gap was seen. The light from the Sun shun bright against it, glistening a stream of frozen solid liquid fuel. The upper segment seemed to have jutted inward, detached and caved inward, the LVA, hence, slanted ever so slightly.
"Houston. We are looking at the lander and..." Conrad began, "I think Alexi had quite a landing."
"What happened?" the radio from Earth sounded.
"The LVA is off position and detached. Its like he had a very hard landing. And there was a fuel leak and all of it is frozen."
They looked up at the inclined landing window that the cosmonaut would have used to observe his landing. It was heavily fogged and crystallized, impairing any possible vision into the module. The moonwalkers were meant to open the hatch if possible, as part of their mission. "I'll go get the tools." Bean called out, as he walked a little whiles aways where he had placed some of the ALSEP down.
Conrad walked around to the ladder and climbed it up to the hatch. He held against, intending to see what he had to work with, and tugged against. A click and his tensed shoulders slacked and relaxed. Conrad lost his breath. "Uh, Alan!"
"What?"
"The hatch is open!"
A moment of silence. "YOU ARE JOKING!"
"I wish, buddy!" Conrad carefully stepped down the ladder to allow for the module hatch to open. Another click was heard and suddenly the hatch flung open swiftly, striking the module and unhinging itself. Conrad flinched, lost his footing and fell backward against the surface.
"Pete! Are you okay!"
"I'm good, I'm good. Christ. What the hell was that!?"
"Houston to Intrepid. Everything alright, boys?" the radio asked.
"Yeah. We're fine. I'm fine."
Bean said, "The Lander hatch door was open and the module was pressurized. It flew open. Viciously. Struck the lander and it
"Right, yes." Bean dashed towards Conrad to the best of his legs abilities and helped him. After a quick assessment of any potential damage on the EVA suit, they turned to face the now open Lander. They turned their flashlights ON and walked towards the ladder.
Conrad climbed up the ladder first again and peered into the interior. He gagged. "Oh, fuck no!" the unprofessionalism took Bean off guard by surprise. "No, no! I cannot go in." Conrad turned around immediately and walked back down the ladder. "Go see for yourself, Alan."
Bean was confused by this reaction and without questioned walked up the ladder and peered inside the lander. "Oh my goodness." He cried.
"Intrepid. What is going on." The radio spoke in an alarming tone.
Bean broke the news. "Houston. I think a ghost came home. I am looking at, right now, in front of me, Alexi Leonov in his Berkut spacesuit. He has no helmet on. He is. Well, if not right before he is certainly dead now."
"Can you please repeat what you just said, Alan."
"Jerry! Leonov is the in the lander! He didn't come home! And he is deceased."
Conrad would eventually come around from his daze and walked up to the foot of the lander. "I'm sorry. Anything in there, Alan?"
Bean looked around. The place was indeed cramped. Alexi was facing sideways to the hatch, facing a modest control panel, none of its lights turned on. Plastic and leather bags and wrappers were strewn about behind him. An extinguisher in the lander as its pin open. The cosmonaut himself looked awful. His cheekbones were distinct and sharp, his pupils fogged up (eyes closed), his mouth slightly ajar. His hair was sprinkled in white frost that glistened under the light that seemed to pass through the crystallized landing window to his left. A Soviet Union flag was seen torn across the middle and slumped around the helmet placed next to the cosmonaut seat. On Leonov's right hand were two pictures - one with him and his family and another of his colleage, Andrei Sokolov. On his left hand looked to be a folder with pencil writings in its papers.
The EVA would be cut short with only an hour spent outside. Conrad and Bean were severely traumatized by having seen a literal corpse that would have been rotting on the woman for who knows how long. It was largely unexpected by everyone for Leonov to actually be present in the lander since his recovery after re-entry was actually televised. NASA was presently confused and lost for answers and progressive missions. Especially if they should bring Leonov back to Earth or not.
"Where is that dictionary?" Bean fiddled around their small quarters, with the folder in hand.
"Here, I got it." Conrad leaned over from his hammock and handed over a Russian translation book to Bean. He began rummaging through the dictionary, comparing words that he read on the papers of folder to the dictionary. "Anything good?" Asked Conrad.
"Nothing out of the ordinary. Some maps of his site selection. He considered landing where Neil and Buzz were. And... soil samples. That was all his primary mission was. Collecting and bringing back soil samples. He was supposed to leave within 24 hours."
"A historic understatement."
"There is his mission report. He has written about the accident. He really did come in hot. He caught a few samples. Oh? Whats this?" Bean turned to the last page. There looked to be severe scribbling, difficult for him decipher with his already nonexistent knowledge of Russian. The scribbling extended to the entire length of the page. "He must have gone mad."
"I don't blame him. Alone on the moon for days on end. Even weeks. I'd go insane as well."
"I am going to take some time translating this."
"Don't waste your mind too much on this. We're going to go out again in another ten hours."
"I'll try." Conrad would doze off peacefully, leaving Bean to his devices, scribbling on another piece of paper, comparing between the dictionary and the folder. As time traversed, he lost any sense of sleep but filled with fatigued, driven by the need to unravel this, what he would later figure out as Alexi's, last note. The more he translated, the more he read, the more insane Bean began to grow. He was toiled with fear and stress at what he has to read.
Conrad would wake up on time to find Bean at the corner of the module, seated upright, his hands holding up his head. "Alan? Did you even get a wink?" Bean shook his head slowly. "What did I tell you?" Bean said anything. Instead, he brought down his left hand up to his front and pushed towards Conrad a piece of paper, in his own hand writing. He gave it a title, "The Last Words of Alexi Leonov." Conrad began reading it.
"This is hell. This is pain. This is treason. And this was the promise that I was given by my country, forgotten to its false Marxist views, selfish wants and desires of keeping up an image of communist success. But this is no success. This was not even a partial success. It was failure and I had to suffer its consequences. They abandoned me, turned their radios off and I don't know if they even counted the number of times I wept and begged to be brought home. I don't know of the health and state of my dearly beloved Svetlana and my daughter Oksana. But if anything is to be learnt of my treatment on this coffin I was brought in, I weep again for my family. I have chosen to perish within this coffin because I can't go out. The moon is no pleasant land but a hellscape for me to wrote in. And every where I looked, it was empty. And skies were black and dark that I couldn't even paint if I wanted to. The stars hate me. They hate me. What have I done for the stars to abandon me?"
Conrad shed a single tear.