Chapter 234: Call Me Phd!
Qian Fei felt the whole process was like a dream.
As a former Air Force pilot, he still had some connections, including knowing quite a few people in Shanghai.
“I don’t know, I really don’t know, because the whole thing is very mysterious. From the decision to do the moon landing, when I first found out, I felt like the country was just playing around with Professor Lin who had just returned to China.
But later I learned from the entry-exit side that Buzz Aldrin had also come. The country’s preferential treatment for scientists is obvious to everyone. The country might play around with Professor Lin, but surely they wouldn’t with Buzz Aldrin?
The Analects say that at seventy, one can follow one’s heart’s desire without transgressing the norm. Foreigners may not talk about this, but Buzz Aldrin is ninety. With his status and qualifications, could anyone force him?
Including the even stranger rumor I heard that Buzz Aldrin is selling off all his assets to invest in this project.
I even asked my classmate who works as a real estate agent in Los Angeles, California, about this, and it’s true. Buzz Aldrin’s villa in Beverly Hills is already listed for sale at eight million US dollars.
Including his villa on the sunny beaches of Florida.
If there’s no hope, could anyone convince Buzz Aldrin to contribute both effort and money? This level of investment isn’t just spare change; it’s putting his entire life’s fortune on the table, betting on historical status, the final verdict after the coffin is nailed shut.
After I found out, I felt they were playing for real, but whether this thing will ultimately succeed, I really don’t know.”
The above is the news that Qian Fei’s former comrade at Shanghai Customs revealed to him.
In Shanghai, many people know about this, but few have investigated it in depth.
After all, Lin Ran’s plan to replicate the Apollo Moon Landing isn’t a secret; he announced it at Shanghai Jiaotong University’s opening ceremony, and the outside news has reported it.
However, the media reports focus on Lin Ran using mathematics to rediscover the applied mathematics in the Apollo Moon Landing process.
The media guess that Lin Ran wants to create a course with this to strengthen Shanghai Jiaotong University’s foundation in applied mathematics in the aerospace field, as a mandatory professional course for future students at Shanghai Jiaotong University School of Aeronautics and Astronautics.
As for recruiting interns, it’s because Lin Ran’s level is too high; he needs to grasp the students’ math levels to set the courses to meet teaching needs.
This guess has received widespread approval.
Like Beihang and Nanhang—here Nanhang refers to the one in Jinling, not in Jiangdu—the students are very sour on social media about how Shanghai Jiaotong University has such an ace.
After asking his Customs colleague, Qian Fei tossed and turned in bed, completely unable to sleep, never having been so nervous before.
Even back when participating in Chinese Astronaut Selection, the night before the second round results came out, he wasn’t this nervous.
After all, he was young back then, and young people always feel nothing is impossible; he still had a chance. Even if he couldn’t go to space, he could shine in other fields.
Now at forty-five, with Buzz Aldrin pursuing historical status after the final verdict, he is just an obscure minor character in history, not even worth mentioning in terms of historical status.
But now the opportunity is right in front of him.
Whether he goes up himself or with Buzz Aldrin, he can become the first Chinese person to land on the moon.
What glory that is.
Not to mention glory, even just the moon landing itself is interesting enough, far more than flying international flights day in and day out.
In Qian Fei’s view, if he could pass the interview, it would make up for past regrets and open a new chapter in life.
Most people have no chance to start a new life at age 45.
Qian Fei lay in bed, tossing and turning, regretting why he hadn’t understood the meaning earlier and hadn’t prepared at all for the interview.
The next day, he received a text message notification:
“Mr. Qian, congratulations on successfully passing the interview and entering the next round of selection. To confirm entry into the next selection round, please reply N.”
He was puzzled inside; shouldn’t it be reply Y? Why N? But it didn’t stop him from entering N and sending it back.
Then came the text notifying him of the time and place to report.
That afternoon, he finally met Lin Ran in Huaqiao, the head of the entire Apollo project.
“Everyone, I am Lin Ran. I believe you all know more or less who I am.
Yesterday’s interview was just a formal one to confirm that you are emotionally stable, cognitively normal, have a healthy body, and fluent English.
Meeting these conditions means passing the interview.
The real competition officially starts today.
There are 14 candidates in total, and only one will ultimately execute the mission with Buzz Aldrin.
Out of fourteen competing for first, this competition intensity isn’t fierce. After all, I’ve seen everyone’s resume; you all have glorious histories in the Air Force, and I believe many of you know each other.
But the competition is cruel, and our spacecraft are limited.
Because you have to execute the mission with Buzz Aldrin, you might think this American old man standing next to me looks pretty good physically and very spirited.
But during the mission, don’t expect him to help with any operations; he can’t even be a radio relay operator responsible for relaying signals from the ground control center.
It’s even possible that during launch, he might faint from the huge pressure changes.
So in the journey to the moon, all operations need to be completed by you alone.
Huge pressure, right?
What if Buzz Aldrin collapses during launch? The psychological pressure would be even greater.
So we only need the most outstanding ones.
We expect to complete the first space handshake in July next year. This space handshake will only have two people, meaning fourteen down to two in about half a year from today.
Everyone, do your best. I won’t say much about effort; that would insult you.”
As Lin Ran spoke, the candidates lined up in two rows gazed straight ahead at Lin Ran and Buzz Aldrin; it was all in English throughout.
Everyone was surprised inside that Lin Ran openly said in front of Buzz Aldrin that the other was just a mascot who might encounter an accident during launch, and Buzz Aldrin listened expressionlessly.
“Finally, does anyone have any questions for me?” Lin Ran said.
Qian Fei raised his hand first, and Lin Ran pointed at him: “You.”
“Professor Lin, I want to ask what the selection standard is?” Qian Fei asked; this was what he cared about most.
Suddenly, the other candidates also perked up their ears.
“Throughout the training process, Buzz Aldrin will be with everyone the whole time. He may not be able to complete training movements, but he will accompany you.
So the final one to go will be decided by him.
After all, you have to consider that whoever teams up with him for the moon landing means he has to entrust his life to one of you.
The person he selects will certainly be the most capable for this mission.
Buzz Aldrin wouldn’t joke with his own life or let personal likes and dislikes replace judgment of mission success probability.”
Qian Fei nodded; that made sense.
After Lin Ran finished speaking, he left, and Buzz Aldrin organized them to start formal training.
According to Buzz Aldrin, the current training conditions are rudimentary, but they are already talking with China’s Astronaut Center, and subsequent simulation training will borrow the Astronaut Center’s facilities and equipment.
After a week of training, Qian Fei returning home had a very peculiar feeling.
Because it was professional yet not professional.
The professional part was that the training was very practical, just learning rocket and spacecraft systems.
For some designs, they directly 3D printed the control panels for hands-on operation.
Additionally, technical training including propulsion, trajectory, astronomy, and basic astrophysics knowledge.
The feeling of picking up books again was also peculiar.
Like training on emergency procedures during missions, Buzz Aldrin taught very practically.
After all, he is the only one who has been to space.
The unprofessional part was centrifuge training to familiarize with acceleration stress, parabolic airplane flights to experience weightlessness, piloting jet aircraft capable of supersonic speed, aerobatics, and high-G maneuvers, and pressure suit tests under different thermal environments and decompression conditions.
None of these.
Anything involving high-precision equipment is absent; ask and it’s waiting to coordinate with the Astronaut Center, needing to borrow their equipment.
As for training on terrain simulating moon conditions, even less so.
Another thing that Qian Fei found reasonable yet unexpected was the money: 10,000 RMB subsidy per month, and nothing else.
But thinking about it, Buzz Aldrin is even paying to work, and they get paid; this deal isn’t a loss.
May 1966, Cape Canaveral, Buzz Aldrin was excited and tossing and turning inside, because tomorrow night he would execute Gemini 12 mission.
This was also the last scheduled mission before the end of the Gemini Program.
The next one would be the moon landing expected at the end of next year.
Being selected for this mission meant he would likely participate in next year’s moon landing.
Whether this mission or next year’s moon landing, both made his heart surge with excitement.
Additionally, this mission required EVA (Extravehicular activity, extravehicular activity), meaning during flight he needed to go outside the spacecraft and perform tasks in the vast universe.
This was also full of unknown challenges.
Buzz Aldrin knew the professor favored him, otherwise such an important mission wouldn’t be entrusted to him. To not disappoint the professor, he had to complete this mission perfectly.
However, what he thought and reality were a bit different.
Buzz Aldrin thought the professor appreciated him because he was the only PhD in the astronaut group, the only one who could have common topics with the professor.
He and the professor could talk about the Aldrin cycle, orbital equations; could others? Did they know how to write differential symbols?
That was the confidence of being a PhD!
Because of Lin Ran’s existence, Buzz Aldrin even had NASA staff call him Doctor, not Dr. Aldrin, let alone Buzz the Doctor.
Don’t you know I’m the only PhD in the entire astronaut group?
Of course, administrative staff would listen to him and give him face, but astronauts wouldn’t.
The more he acted like this, the more everyone liked calling him Buzz the Doctor, even though the name was quite tongue-twisting.
The next afternoon, Lin Ran’s special plane arrived at Cape Canaveral Launch Site from Redstone Arsenal. After all, this was the last Gemini mission, and Lin Ran, who hadn’t been to the site in a long time, decided to personally command from the on-site control center.
Buzz Aldrin felt deeply honored. When hearing this news in the meeting room, he glanced at his teammates: Do you get this treatment?
If it weren’t for me executing this mission, would the professor come to personally command?
On the open ground of Launch Complex 19, Commander Jim and pilot Buzz Aldrin wore white spacesuits with “THE” and “END” badges on their backs.
Lin Ran, wearing a white shirt, walked up to them and patted Jim and Buzz Aldrin’s shoulders respectively: “Wait for you to return safely.”
The two stood at attention and saluted: “Yes, sir!”
At 3:46 Washington time, also 8:46 p.m. local time, the countdown entered the final stage.
In the mission control center, Flight Director Gene Kranz’s voice came clearly through the headphones: “Ten, nine, eight…”
The staff held their breath, checking the radar system’s final readings.
Inside the spacecraft, Jim gripped the control stick tightly, while Buzz Aldrin focused on verifying the dashboard.
“Ignition!” A roar, the Titan II rocket spewed blazing flames, and the spacecraft shook violently as it rushed into the sky.
Lin Ran watched the trajectory data on the screen. When the rocket’s first stage separated, the oxidizer tank ruptured, spraying a cloud of white mist, but the spacecraft continued rising steadily.
Jim’s voice came over the radio: “Control center, Gemini 12 is ascending, all normal.”
Minutes later, the spacecraft entered the planned orbit. Buzz Aldrin looked out the window; Earth’s blue arc shone brightly in the darkness of space.
He said softly to Jim: “Jim, look at that, so beautiful it’s breathtaking.”
Jim smiled back: “Don’t get mesmerized, Doctor; we still have work to do.”
During the mission, they still had to give Buzz Aldrin some face.
Lin Ran’s voice sounded on the radio channel: “Gemini 12, orbit confirmed, good luck.”
Kranz: “Gemini 12, control center, confirm you are in orbit, all systems normal.”
Jim: “Roger, control center, we are in orbit, preparing to start rendezvous procedures.”
Lin Ran said to Kranz beside him: “Success, but the real challenge is ahead.”
Gemini 12’s rendezvous and docking relied on the astronaut doing an EVA for manual docking.
Gemini chose astronaut EVA for manual docking because in the past, Soviet persons’ moon landings used Yuri Gagarin to manually handle fuel tank transfer and docking.
Lin Ran had this idea because historical records showed Gemini 12 docking was done manually by the astronaut.
The entire manual docking in this spacetime became a snake biting its tail, hard to say where the origin really came from.
The mission’s primary goal was rendezvous and docking with the Agena target spacecraft. Agena had been launched into orbit 98 minutes earlier by an Atlas rocket and was waiting.
Gemini 12 began approaching Agena on the third orbit, but at about 74 miles, the radar system suddenly failed.
Buzz Aldrin immediately reported: “Control center, we lost radar lock at 74 miles; computer cannot acquire data.”
In the control room, Kranz’s heart sank. He quickly checked the system, confirming the radar failure couldn’t be fixed immediately.
Lin Ran calmly responded: “Roger, Gemini 12. Buzz, prepare for manual calculation!”
Buzz Aldrin’s tone was firm: “No problem, I’ll handle it with the sextant and slide rule.”
Right, Lin Ran didn’t call Buzz Aldrin Doctor; Lin Ran generally called him Buzz.
Buzz Aldrin’s PhD research was on orbital mechanics; now his expertise came into play.
“Buzz, watch the angle between Agena and the horizon,” Lin Ran said.
“Understood!” Buzz Aldrin replied.
He took out the sextant, measured the angle between Agena and the horizon through the spacecraft window, and the slide rule in his hand slid rapidly, calculating complex orbital parameters.
The staff in the control room held their breath, staring at the data transmission.
Minutes later, Buzz Aldrin inputted the adjustment parameters, and the spacecraft began precisely approaching Agena.
Facing the sudden situation, Buzz Aldrin wasn’t panicked at all; instead, his tone showed a hint of pride: “Professor, I’m measuring Agena’s angle with the sextant; slide rule is ready.”
Because he knew anyone else doing this mission would fail; only he could hand-calculate orbital parameters.
Lin Ran said: “Good, Buzz, stay calm, tell me your calculation results.”
Buzz Aldrin: “We need to adjust speed, increase 15 feet per second, angle…” rapidly reporting a string of numbers.
Lin Ran commanded: “Control center, Buzz’s calculations are correct, start inputting commands.”
Kranz was calm inside; having witnessed too many miracles in this control center where the professor’s brain calculations were more accurate than IBM computer clusters: “Challenging space with paper and pen—is that hard for the professor?”
Cape Canaveral Launch Site staff would privately joke that if the professor were stationed in the control center, there’d be no need to buy IBM computers.
28 minutes later, Gemini 12 successfully docked with Agena; the spacecraft jolted lightly, and locking was complete.
Jim reported to the control center: “Control center, docking complete.”
Kranz let out a long breath, and applause erupted in the control room.
Lin Ran smiled: “Well done, Buzz, you nearly stopped the control center colleagues’ hearts.”
The original plan was to use Agena’s main propulsion system to push the combined vehicle into higher orbit, but due to Agena’s turbopump speed anomaly at launch, ground decided to abandon it and adjust orbit to observe the total solar eclipse over South America.
Another core goal of Gemini 12 was to verify astronauts’ work ability in space. Previously, Gemini Program EVAs had frequent failures due to astronaut fatigue and equipment issues. Buzz Aldrin had done extensive underwater weightlessness training for this, designing new foot restraints and handheld devices.
The first stand-up EVA mission began at 19 hours 29 minutes: November 12, Buzz Aldrin opened the spacecraft hatch, leaned his upper body out, for 2 hours 29 minutes. He installed a camera, collected micrometeorite samples, and took total solar eclipse photos.
Through his helmet, he saw Earth like a blue gem in the darkness and couldn’t help exclaiming: “My God, so beautiful!”
Jim laughed from inside the cabin: “Don’t forget your mission, Doctor.”
Buzz Aldrin reported: “Control center, stand-up EVA progressing smoothly; handheld device works very well.”
During this EVA, Buzz Aldrin also took the first space selfie.
He adjusted the camera and said to himself: “Okay, let me lift the visor, smile.”
He pressed the shutter, capturing a group photo of himself and Earth, a classic moment in space exploration history.
(Buzz Aldrin’s space selfie)
Precisely because his past life had so many wonderful moments, Buzz Aldrin in 2020 was unwilling to just grow old like this.
