Soyuz: The Final Flight

Copyright © 2018 by Harry Milman.

Library of Congress Control Number:    2017915880

ISBN:                  Hardcover                        978-1-5434-5860-2

                            Softcover                           978-1-5434-5859-6

                            eBook                                978-1-5434-5858-9

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

Rev. date: 06/06/2019

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Contents

Acknowledgments

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46

Chapter 47

Chapter 48

Chapter 49

Chapter 50

Chapter 51

Acknowledgments

My sincere gratitude goes to Laurie Gilkenson for her careful editing and helpful suggestions throughout the writing process. Her continued faith and support were instrumental in bringing this book to completion.

Special thanks go to Jeffrey Hyman, who was kind enough to provide his thoughtful insight and excellent critique of the early chapters of the manuscript.

A big thank you to Adam of the Editorial Department at Xlibris for his suggestions and excellent editing of the manuscript.

I am especially indebted to Jennifer McGinn of Jennifer McGinn Photography, who so ably captured my likeness and made me look better than I really am with her unparalleled photographic skills.

Chapter 1

IN 1957, THE Soviet Union launched Sputnik, the first unmanned satellite, into space. Since then, the United States and Russia have launched numerous weather and military satellites, as well as manned flights to the space stations Mir, Skylab, and the International Space Station (ISS), to explore the moon, Mars, and the outer reaches of the universe. But both countries have paid a heavy price for their space exploration.

For America’s space program, one of the worst catastrophes was in 1986, when the space shuttle Challenger disintegrated only seventy-three seconds after liftoff. The seven-member crew, all of whom perished, included Christa McAuliffe, a teacher who had planned to teach students from space. An O-ring had failed to seal properly because of cold weather conditions, allowing gases from the solid rocket booster to leak and cause the explosion. Then in 2003, after a two-week mission in space, the space shuttle Columbia broke apart on reentry, caused by a damaged thermal protection system. An investigation determined that a piece of foam insulation, which had broken away from the external tank during launch, had impacted the system. None of the seven astronauts on board had survived.

Tragedies also besieged the Russian space program. Failure of a parachute to open upon reentry killed Russian cosmonaut Vladimir Komarov in 1967 after his Soyuz spacecraft hit the ground at high speed. Then in 1971, another accident cost the lives of the crew of Soyuz 11, who met their demise when a cabin vent valve accidentally opened after they undocked from the space station Salyut 1. But in spite of these incidents, the Soyuz was considered the world’s safest and most cost-effective vehicle to transport humans into space.

In the mid-1970s, the United States and Russia initiated cooperative ventures in space, beginning with the Apollo-Soyuz Test Project. Scientific collaboration between the two space programs, especially in biomedical research, continued, and by 2011, after the space shuttle was retired, the United States began purchasing seats on the Russian space capsule Soyuz to ferry American astronauts to the ISS.

Like the United States and Russia, China also had great ambitions in space and in the biomedical sciences. In 2003, it became the third country to independently launch a man into space. And several years later, Chinese scientists were the first to genetically modify human embryos.

Of all the Chinese researchers in genome modification and in in vitro fertilization techniques, Dr. Ping was the most prominent, having trained at the National Institutes of Health in the United States, the French National Center for Scientific Research, and the National Academy of Sciences of Belarus in Minsk. With the support of the Chinese government, he opened the Developmental, Modified Genetics, and IVF Institute to help infertile Chinese couples achieve what they had always wanted but couldn’t—to be pregnant. Before long, his IVF Institute achieved more than twenty thousand successful births and was recognized as the leader in China’s genomic modification research.

It was by no accident that after much success, a member of China’s security agency approached Ping and told him, We would like you to investigate the possibility of using genetic modification techniques in counterintelligence and security. We know your institute conducts research in genomic modification and is also involved in in vitro fertilization. We’d like you to investigate whether it’s possible to make a genetically modified embryo that when placed in the womb of a woman from a hostile country will produce a baby whose genetic makeup will be beneficial to us.

There’s an enzyme in the brain that’s responsible for modulating behavior, Ping told the security representative. I can try to produce an embryo with the more active form of this enzyme. A person with the hyperactive enzyme will be susceptible to extreme mood swings. Do you think it would be helpful?

Yes, that’s very good, the representative said. Will there be any way to trigger these behavioral changes on our command?

That won’t be possible, but the enzyme will be very sensitive so that any changes in behavior will be exaggerated, Ping said.

Go ahead and do your research, and when you’re ready, place the genetically modified embryo with the more active brain enzyme in the uterus of a woman from the United States, the security representative said. Be sure to monitor the baby and keep us informed. We want to know whether the technique has any long-term benefit for China’s security.

After he perfected his technique, Ping was ready to put his research into practice. He only needed the right patient. That opportunity came when Dick and Maggie, a young American couple who very much wanted to become pregnant with a Chinese egg, contacted him.

Chapter 2

RUSSIA LAUNCHED THE last Soyuz spacecraft in its series from the launchpad at the Baikonur Cosmodrome, Russia’s space launch facility. It was located in Kazakhstan, in the desert steppe of Baikonur, about two hundred kilometers east of the Aral Sea and north of the river Syr Darya. It was the Soyuz’s final mission to the ISS before Russian cosmonauts and American and European astronauts would be sent to Mars. On board the spacecraft were two American astronauts and a Russian cosmonaut but no Chinese. For security reasons, China had been banned from the space station since 2011. Also, there weren’t any spaceflight participants—space tourists—on the Soyuz flight. Sarah Brightman, a popular classical crossover singer, had been the last person to be chosen, but she withdrew in 2015 for personal reasons. In all likelihood, she wouldn’t have another opportunity to fly in space.

The public seemed to have lost interest in space launches, but this one promised to set several records: the final flight of the Soyuz; the last woman to fly to the ISS, Oksana Orloff, the commander of the Soyuz; and the oldest astronaut to fly in space, American astronaut Derek Johnson, who at seventy-eight years old was one year older than John Glenn when he flew on STS-95. Rounding out the crew was Jim Smiley, a rookie astronaut who would experience his first flight in space after waiting ten years to be selected.

What’s the matter, Johnson? Orloff asked her copilot and first engineer.

It’s my stomach. Probably just gas, he responded.

L-minus ten minutes, Orloff heard mission control announce in her ear.

A preprogrammed pause in the launch sequence provided the ground crew extra time to rectify unexpected issues, but there weren’t any. With ideal weather conditions—clear skies and a temperature at a comfortable eighteen degrees Celsius—the countdown soon resumed.

Photographers, television cameramen, and reporters from countless national and international media outlet were lined up at the Baikonur Cosmodrome in Kazakhstan and at NASA’s Space Center in Houston, eager to capture and report on every aspect of the Soyuz launch. Several American cities had purchased extra power to accommodate the more than 85 percent of the television sets in the United States that were projected to be tuned in to this momentous occasion. NASA was so confident in the progress of its space program that it had already announced that the long-awaited first-manned flight to Mars would occur in twelve months, only six months after everyone would return from the space station for good.

At the mission control center in Kazakhstan, Alexey Kopachenko—a forty-seven-year-old veteran of four flights to the ISS and three extravehicular activities—was keeping track of the final minutes of the launch. His eyes focused on the television monitors sitting on his desk as he chewed a large wad of gum to control his nervousness, making sure to give it a good beating as it bounced from one of his cheeks to the other.

T-minus six minutes, he announced, his voice familiar to the astronauts on board the Soyuz. At this time, the automated countdown sequence began, and the orbiter access arm was retracted. In an emergency, it could be repositioned in fifteen seconds to provide an escape route for the flight crew.

At T-minus five minutes, the auxiliary power unit kicked in, producing pressure for the hydraulic systems of the spacecraft. And at T-minus four minutes, Kopachenko heard Orloff tell her two companions on board the Soyuz, It’s time to close our helmets.

Five engines of the boosters and core stage were purged with nitrogen at T-minus two minutes. This allowed propellant tank pressurization to begin and was a tense moment when things could go wrong as they had on September 27, 1983. On that day, a fire at the base of the launch vehicle had burned electrical wires and triggered a failure of the automatic abort sequence.

T-minus one minute, Kopachenko said in Russian. Another pause confirmed that everything was as it should be, so the countdown resumed. Ignition sequence was initiated at T-minus twenty seconds.

Now, full of excitement and apprehension, Kopachenko counted off the last ten seconds of the launch. Dyeh-seht … dheh-veht … voh-seeaym … With his eyes still glued to the monitor sitting on his desk, he nevertheless occasionally glanced up to see the takeoff of the Soyuz, which was being projected on the large screen hanging on the wall in front of him.

Over in Houston, Texas, NASA flight director Craig Crenshaw was at the mission control center, listening to the countdown being transmitted from Kazakhstan. Retired from the astronaut corps, he now spent most of his time in front of a microphone, communicating with astronauts in space and forwarding relevant information to the public. Although he wasn’t fluent in Russian, he understood enough to simultaneously broadcast the remaining seconds of the liftoff in English. He announced, Ten … nine … eight …

Rugged with a midwestern drawl, tall, determined, and not one to mince words, Crenshaw was a man’s man. He had only one lifelong dream, and that was to be an astronaut. A confirmed bachelor, he’d never wanted to put a wife in the position of having to worry about his safety. In the history of space exploration, eighteen astronauts and cosmonauts had perished in four separate spaceflights, and fourteen others had died during the training or testing of the spacecraft.

Tension at NASA’s mission control center was as palpable as it was at the Baikonur Cosmodrome. Though separated by more than 6,700 miles and nearly twelve time zones, the centers worked in tandem, providing some assurance that everything possible was being done to prevent any mishaps in the final minutes of the launch. So far so good.

In Baikonur, Kopachenko’s gaze darted from one monitor to the next. Seeaym … shayst … He counted off the last seconds of the takeoff.

Seven … six … Crenshaw said in Houston, his voice strong and with a deep timbre. It was transmitted around the globe.

Zazhiganiye. Kopachenko gave the command to start main engines.

It was followed by Crenshaw’s announcement from NASA’s mission control center in Texas. Ignition.

Up in his penthouse condominium apartment, overlooking Wisconsin Avenue in Chevy Chase, Maryland, Bob Kramer lay in his king-size bed. He wasn’t alone. Occasionally glancing at the television monitor, he tried to catch a glimpse of the launch, but more often than not, Jennifer Sweet obscured his vision. Although he wanted to see the Soyuz take its final journey, his attention was diverted elsewhere. Though a toothache bothered him, it wasn’t enough to deter him from pleasing Sweet, who was his main focus now.

Kramer, the son of a Jewish mother and a gentile father, often interspersed Yiddish words into his conversation. A forensic toxicologist and expert witness with a PhD in pharmacology, he testified about the harmful effects of drugs and chemicals. Modeling himself after James Bond, the famous 007 British agent, he often wore custom-made suits fashioned by Kiton and shoes by the Italian manufacturer Ferragamo.

Kramer was short, with a waistline overhanging his belt. He wore dark and unbecoming glasses, and he had an unflattering mustache, a receding hairline, and a dry sense of humor. Yet, despite his appearance, women adored him for his intellect and charm, both of which he exuded with confidence. Men looked at him with amazement when they saw the beautiful women he escorted around town.

He had befriended Sweet, a well-proportioned blonde flight attendant, at American Airlines over a year earlier when the case of the unidentified corpse at Camp David brought them together. A lover of designer clothes and shoes by Christian Dior, she projected a sophisticated image of glamor and style. Although a shiksa, a woman not of the Jewish faith, she kissed like a Jewish princess, which more than made up for his mother’s disapproval. Whenever their busy schedule permitted, they got together to enjoy a gourmet meal and make love.

Biology is really what I’m good at, Kramer purred in Sweet’s ear, his tongue caressing her right earlobe and then her left.

Chemistry is what we have in common, she responded with glee.

Kramer kissed Sweet’s soft and sensuous lips, his tongue catching hers in a warm, moist embrace. Pausing, he told Sweet, Lovemaking is an adventure. It should be explored and enjoyed.

You’re such a naughty boy, Dr. Kramer. I don’t know what I’m going to do with you, Sweet said, tapping Kramer on the shoulder and chuckling. On a twenty-four-hour break in her flight schedule, there wasn’t a better place for a layover than in Kramer’s oversize bed.

Well, let’s find out, shall we? Kramer replied. He’d taken Cialis earlier in the day, so he would be ready whenever the opportunity presented itself, and now that it was here, he planned to take full advantage of it. You’re killing me, he told her, trying to control his rising passion.

Relax. Let mommy make you feel better, Sweet cooed in his ear.

The launch sequence was in high gear in Kazakhstan, but Kramer barely saw, let alone heard, the liftoff. He didn’t mind. Launch of the Soyuz was mundane entertainment compared to making love to Sweet. Nevertheless, he could hear Kopachenko’s voice coming from the television located on the far wall of his bedroom, announcing the final seconds of the launch. Pyaht … chih-tee-reh …

It was followed by Crenshaw from NASA’s mission control center in Houston. Five … four …

The intensity of Kramer and Sweet’s lovemaking increased in concert with the countdown. Soon there was another pause in the launch.

I don’t know if I can hold on much longer, Kramer told Sweet between kisses.

Hold on, Sweet begged. "Please, just a little bit more."

Tree … dvah … Kopachenko told the listening audience.

Three … two … Crenshaw echoed in Houston.

Sweet and Kramer’s heart rate escalated with the remaining seconds of the launch, their movements synced to the countdown from mission control. Soon the rocket’s boosters ignited, and the bolts holding the rocket to the ground were explosively released.

On the launchpad in Kazakhstan, the Russian FG rocket spewed fire and steam like a monstrous serpent ready to pounce into the night sky. One or two more commands, the push of a button, and it would be released from its earthly gravitational pull.

Ah-deen … Kopachenko counted the remaining second.

One … Crenshaw repeated in Houston.

U nas yest’ otryvat’sya, Kopachenko said excitedly.

We have a liftoff, Crenshaw repeated in English. "We have a liftoff of the final Soyuz mission to the International Space Station."

Wow! Sweet said, breaking free from Kramer’s lips. You’re something else, Dr. Kramer. Her heavy panting and rapid breathing blew wind in Kramer’s ear.

I know, he responded, his heart racing. This launch was the best one yet. Completely spent, he rolled over on his back and contemplated the cracks on the ceiling, wondering as he looked, Why didn’t I fix that yet?

I had a terrible week, and this is exactly what I needed, Sweet said.

Kramer continued to stare at the ceiling. You weren’t so bad yourself, he replied.

Thank you, NASA, Sweet said, giggling.

Amen, Kramer agreed and looked over at the goddess by his side. I’m glad there wasn’t another pause in the countdown. I don’t think I could’ve held on much longer.

They laughed, embraced, and kissed again, Kramer covering Sweet’s face with butterfly kisses.

Kramer was slowly losing his stamina. She is wearing me down. Glancing to his right from his overhead vantage point, as if looking at a camera, he winked and moved his eyebrows a couple