Chapter 187: Can The White Horse Come Back?
He peered through the small window at the Moon, the gray-white craters gradually receding, the starry sky pitch black and profound.
He adjusted the radio and called the command module: “Moscow Control Center, this is the Lunar Module, respond if you hear me.”
Seconds later, Commander Petrov responded: “Gagarin, this is Petrov. The Command Module is about 50 kilometers ahead of you, relative speed 10 meters per second, approaching.”
Gagarin breathed a sigh of relief, his mouth curving upward: “Received, preparing for docking maneuver.”
Moscow Mission Control Center was brightly lit, Korolev staring intently at the screen, with the NASA representative observing from the side.
Korolev said softly to his assistant: “Docking is key; Yuri must operate precisely.”
Gagarin activated the small propulsion system, the Lunar Module vibrating slightly as its speed reduced to 5 meters per second.
He reported: “Relative speed adjustment complete, distance 40 kilometers.”
Petrov responded: “Continue to maintain, watch the attitude angle.”
Gagarin concentrated, 1964 technology requiring almost entirely manual-assisted docking. The automatic system was at best just an aid.
He stared intently at the screen data, ready to switch to manual at any moment.
The screen showed the outline of the Command Module, distance 20 kilometers, relative speed 2 meters per second.
Suddenly, the automatic system alarmed: “Docking deviation, probe not aligned.”
Gagarin quickly switched to manual, steadying his breathing, fine-tuning the control stick: “Steady, steady.”
He muttered to himself, sweat sliding across his forehead.
Minutes later, the probe aligned with the docking ring, making gentle contact and locking.
“Docking successful!” Gagarin shouted, his voice filled with joy.
After the voice reached the Moscow control room, applause erupted on site, and Korolev breathed a sigh of relief: “Well done, Yuri!”
Gagarin opened the hatch, passed through the docking tunnel, and returned to the Command Module.
Compared to the Lunar Module, the interior of the Command Module was much more spacious, with green lights flickering on the dashboard and the oxygen system humming.
Gagarin took off his spacesuit and changed into a lightweight flight suit; the fuel in the Lunar Module was being transferred to the Command Module.
Once the transfer was complete, the formal return mission would begin.
“Magnificent, but silently awe-inspiring.” Gagarin’s thoughts lingered on the Moon, his eyes gleaming with memories.
Gagarin transferred Moon samples, scientific data, and equipment to the Command Module, ensuring they were safely stowed.
Gagarin checked the checklist: “Moscow Control Center, samples complete, data intact.”
“After fuel transfer is complete, prepare to separate from the Lunar Module,” Petrov said. “Prepare to operate the control panel and unlock the docking mechanism.”
With a light sound, the Lunar Module detached and slowly drifted away.
Gagarin looked out the window, the Lunar Module receding against the Moon’s background, a sense of emotion in his heart: “Goodbye, Moon.”
The Command Module orbited the Moon, preparing for Earth return ignition.
An instruction came from Moscow Control Center: “Gagarin, return data will be synced to NASA. Command authority is now transferred to NASA; subsequent commands by Randolph Lin.”
The reason for the transfer now, rather than at the ignition moment, was that Korolev had urgently obtained approval from the Kremlin in between, with Nikita personally approving the transfer of command authority to Lin Ran.
After all, this required real-time syncing of large amounts of data to NASA, which Korolev could not decide on his own.
The Kremlin approved quickly; when Korolev received the reply, he guessed that Nikita was in a good mood.
Gagarin was somewhat surprised inwardly, but not unexpected, since leaving the Moon had been under Lin Ran’s direct command.
“Received.”
Lin Ran’s voice appeared in the communication channel: “Gagarin, this is Randolph Lin.”
Gagarin said: “Received, Professor, please give instructions.”
“TEI ignition at T+150 hours 00 minutes, burn for 5 minutes 30 seconds, attitude angle 30 degrees.”
Gagarin repeated: “Received, T+150 hours 00 minutes, burn for 5 minutes 30 seconds, attitude angle 30 degrees.”
Lin Ran continued: “Check fuel and electricity systems.”
After checking fuel and electricity, Gagarin reported: “Systems ready.”
The timer showed T+149 hours 59 minutes 50 seconds.
Gagarin counted down: “10, 9, 8… 3, 2, 1, ignition!”
The main engine ignited, thrust pushing the Command Module toward Earth.
Gagarin gripped the handrail tightly, feeling the acceleration, the Moon rapidly shrinking outside the window.
After 5 minutes 30 seconds, the engine shut down.
“Ignition complete!” Gagarin reported.
Lin Ran confirmed: “Trajectory normal, expected reentry into atmosphere in 3 days.”
Gagarin said with a smile: “Professor, Gagarin is ready to go home!”
Lin Ran: “Safe return.”
During the 3 days returning to Earth, the Command Module flew at about 11 kilometers per second.
On the second day, an alarm suddenly sounded: oxygen pressure dropping.
Gagarin checked the instruments and found a tiny leak, possibly from a micrometeoroid impact.
After the news reached Earth, Lin Ran frowned and asked: “What’s the situation?”
“Pressure dropping slowly, but cannot be ignored.” Gagarin’s tone was somewhat tense.
Lin Ran ordered: “Prepare for extravehicular repair.”
Gagarin quickly put on his spacesuit, preparing for extravehicular activity, despite the high risk due to technical limitations.
But there was no time to worry about that now.
Finally, Gagarin found the leak point, a pinhole-sized crack. He took out special tape, applied it to seal it, and pressure stabilized.
Gagarin contacted NASA: “Control Center, oxygen leak sealed, please advise.”
Lin Ran responded: “Monitor pressure, use backup oxygen. You did well.”
The Command Module approached Earth, speed increasing to 11.2 kilometers per second.
Lin Ran commanded from the control room: “Angle 4.5 degrees, peak heat 3000°C, watch the Command Module attitude, ensure heat shield forward!”
Gagarin adjusted the Command Module attitude: “Ready for reentry.”
Gagarin gripped the seat tightly, tense inside: “The critical moment has arrived.”
He recalled the Moon’s silence, Earth’s clamor soon to come.
The Command Module entered the atmosphere, the outer shell heating up, orange flames leaping outside the window.
Cabin temperature rose, life support system normal.
“Temperature 2800°C, normal,” Gagarin reported, sweat sliding down.
Minutes later, the flames receded, blue sky appearing outside the window.
Gagarin breathed a sigh of relief: “Past the most dangerous phase.”
Lin Ran instructed: “10 kilometers altitude, prepare to deploy parachutes.”
Parachutes deployed, Command Module decelerating, wind noise and parachute fabric flapping entering the cabin.
Gagarin smiled: “This is the sound from Earth.”
The Command Module splashed down in the Pacific Ocean, waves splashing everywhere.
Rescue ships arrived, the hatch opened, sea breeze blowing in with a salty damp scent.
Gagarin stepped out, rescue personnel cheering in welcome, magnesium flash photos from Earth making it hard for him to open his eyes.
Gagarin looked up at the sky: “Thank you, Moscow. Thank you, Professor.”
In the CBS news studio, Walter Cronkite sat there, mission briefing and a Command Module model in front of him.
The background was a huge Earth map marking the Pacific Ocean splashdown area, about 20 degrees north latitude, 160 degrees west longitude.
The right screen showed footage from NASA’s Redstone Arsenal Control Center, the left from real-time footage near the Earth landing point.
In the studio, staff busily adjusted equipment.
Cronkite’s guest this time was NASA’s senior engineer Robert Gilruth, holding orbital charts, ready to explain to the audience.
The wall clock showed mission time T+219 hours, Command Module about to enter the atmosphere.
Cronkite adjusted his posture, gaze straight at the lens, voice filled with expectation: “Ladies and gentlemen, this is CBS news, I’m Walter Cronkite.”
Tonight, we stand at history’s crossroads, welcoming the successful conclusion of the US-Soviet joint Moon landing mission.
Soviet astronaut Yuri Gagarin is riding the Command Module back to Earth, expected to splash down in the Pacific Ocean.
He paused, flipping through notes, inwardly thrilled.
This Moon landing was one step from success; cooperation amid the Cold War filled him with emotion.
He continued: “This is not only a technological victory, but also a symbol of human unity. Scientists from the US and Soviet Union jointly designed this mission, from the Moon to Earth, crossing political barriers.”
Cronkite turned to Gilruth, tone mild: “Robert, the Command Module reentry process might be complex for viewers; could you explain simply?”
Gilruth smiled, pointing at the model: “Of course, Walter. The Command Module enters the atmosphere at 11 kilometers per second, heat shield enduring about 3000 degrees Celsius. Parachutes deploy at 10 kilometers altitude, slowing it down for splashdown. The entire process requires precise control, with margin for error only seconds.
According to the latest news from NASA, Moscow has handed command authority for Earth return to NASA, personally commanded by the Professor.”
Cronkite laughed upon hearing this: “That’s great news; it gives me even more confidence in Gagarin’s successful return to Earth.
Robert, I’m curious, do you at NASA also call Randolph Lin ‘Professor’ internally? I thought you’d call him Director.”
This topic concerned not only Cronkite; from the expressions of the studio audience below, they cared too.
Gilruth laughed: “Of course, ‘Director’ is too stiff; ‘Professor’ is much warmer.”
Cronkite asked: “Isn’t the Professor said to be very strict internally at NASA?”
Gilruth nodded: “Correct, but his strictness doesn’t hinder our respect for him; we hope the Professor guides our work more.
The same work, if the Professor helps you, what would take a year might be done in a week.”
Cronkite exclaimed: “That exaggerated?”
Gilruth’s tone calm, inwardly recalling his few collaborations with Lin Ran at NASA: “Yes, that exaggerated.
You know our main internal computer is the IBM 7094. For complex trajectory calculations like launch windows, translunar injection, and landing trajectories for Moon missions, involving n-body problems and gravitational perturbations, we might compute over a year. If the Professor computes for you, results in a week.
The results the Professor computes in a week are better than what the IBM 7094 slowly adjusts and computes over a year.”
The audience below erupted in gasps of surprise.
“In short, in the field of mathematical computation, the Professor’s brain is far more powerful than computers.
Anything data-related, the Professor is no different from God in our eyes,” Gilruth summarized.
Cronkite sighed: “Worthy of the Professor; no wonder Moscow transferred command authority to him.”
Cronkite continued: “Good, let’s return to Gagarin’s return from the Moon; we’re about to witness this moment.
I believe the Professor’s command will provide the greatest help for Gagarin’s smooth return to Earth.”
A voice from the control room: “NASA report: Command Module entering atmosphere!”
Cronkite quickly put on headphones, signaling quiet.
The screen switched to real-time rescue ship footage, lens from helicopter overhead: in the blue sky, three orange parachutes dragging the Command Module, slowly descending.
The sea surface sparkled, rescue ships ready.
Cronkite’s voice rose: “Look! The Command Module parachutes are open! Gagarin is approaching Earth, minutes from splashdown!”
He stared at the screen, hands clenched, tears gleaming in his eyes, inwardly moved: “This is the most complex aerospace mission in human history, a joint victory for two nations.
For the first time, human footprints on the Moon, first time US-Soviet flags together on the Moon, first time looking back at Earth from the Moon!
As the Professor said, this is not just one small step for Gagarin, but one giant leap for all humanity!”
Gilruth added: “Parachute deployment very smooth, speed reduced to 10 meters per second. The Command Module heat shield withstood the test.”
In the footage, the Command Module touched the sea surface, white waves splashing, steadily floating.
Cronkite nearly jumped up: “Splashdown success! Gagarin safely back on Earth! Oh my God, fantastic!”
The studio erupted in hot applause, staff cheering and high-fiving.
Cronkite removed his glasses, wiping tears from his eyes, beaming: “This is the peak moment of human space exploration!”
Cronkite composed himself, turning to Gilruth: “Robert, what does this mean for future space exploration?”
Gilruth equally excited: “Cronkite, this mission proves the potential of international cooperation.
US and Soviet overcame technical standards differences, achieving compatibility in fuel systems and docking.
This paves the way for future joint missions, like Moon Base.”
Cronkite nodded: “Indeed. Let’s see Moscow’s reaction.”
Screen switched to Moscow control room, Korolev and team applauding in celebration.
Cronkite commented: “Look, Moscow is cheering too! This is humanity’s victory.”
He turned to the lens: “Viewers, we received a joint statement from NASA and Soviet Space Agency: ‘This mission demonstrates human unity in facing common challenges.'”
Screen back to Pacific, rescue ship approaching Command Module. Navy personnel rowing rubber boats, opening the hatch.
Gagarin stepped out first, in orange survival suit, smiling, waving, steadying himself on the hatch, deeply inhaling sea breeze.
Cronkite excitedly said: “Look! Gagarin is out! They look good, full of spirit! This space hero completed an incredible journey.”
Audio came through, Gagarin in Russian: “Thank you Moscow, thank you NASA, thank you Professor. I’m safely home; the feeling now is unprecedentedly good.”
Translation broadcast simultaneously.
Cronkite smiled: “Gagarin thanked all participants, especially the Professor. Truly moving.”
Gilruth added: “Spacesuits have cooling systems, protecting them from extreme temperatures on the Moon and reentry. Now, they can finally breathe Earth’s air.”
Rescue personnel brought Gagarin aboard, medical staff checking his body.
Cronkite commented: “Rescue operation very smooth, rescue team equally well-trained.”
Outside the studio, audience watched via television, emotions high. At Times Square, New York, big screen live-broadcasting splashdown, thousands gathered, cheering joyfully.
In front of Technology Ark, reporters interviewing the public.
An elderly white woman said to the reporter: “I never thought I’d see this day, America and Soviet Union Moon landing together, unbelievable!”
In a Chicago household, children gathered around the television, father sighing: “Better than any movie, kids, remember this moment.”
Martin Luther King in a black bar, toasting with blacks present: “Professor, omnipotent Professor, bringing us the symbol of peace, hope for humanity toward the universe!”
Martin Luther King resolved inwardly: must pull Chinese descent group onto the equality battlewagon, need both chargers and theorists.
Marvel Comics’ Stan Lee and assistant Roy Thomas watched the entire Earth return at the company, toasting: “I think we should give Professor X more play.”
“Professor omnipotent, my life no failure, not targeting anyone, everyone here is trash; such a prestigious character, of course we give him more play!” Stan Lee said.
(At this time, English naturally had no word for prestige, but cachet and class could express similar meaning.
cachet emphasizes style and prestige, suitable for elegant temperament things or people, like “This brand has a lot of prestige” translated as “This brand has a lot of cachet.”)
CBS phone hotline ringing nonstop, viewer messages: “Humanity’s pride!”
“Professor truly omnipotent.”
“Gagarin is a hero, Professor equally a hero, US-Soviet cooperation amazing!”
In CBS studio, live television broadcast continued.
Cronkite read a viewer letter: “Mary from Boston writes: ‘Seeing Gagarin wave, I cried. This is hope for peace.'”
Cronkite turned to the lens, tone solemn: “Ladies and gentlemen, today we witnessed history’s birth. In 1964, the US-Soviet joint Moon landing mission concluded perfectly with Gagarin and Petrov’s successful return. This is not only a victory for space exploration, but a symbol of human unity.”
He turned to Gilruth: “Robert, anything final to say?”
Gilruth: “I want to say, the universe is humanity’s common frontier. Today, we took the first step; more challenges await in the future.”
Cronkite nodded: “Well said.”
He faced the lens: “Thank you for watching; we’ll bring you follow-up reports. Let’s look forward to humanity’s space journey becoming even more glorious. I’m Walter Cronkite, CBS news, good night.”
Studio lights dimmed gradually, staff erupting in applause.
Cronkite removed headphones, heart filled with human achievement. He said softly to Gilruth: “This may be the most important moment we’ve reported.”
Area 51 high-level officials also watched the full live broadcast.
Dean Qian mainly handled translation, the other two watching.
After Gagarin exited the hatch, Dean Qian couldn’t help quipping: “Can White Horse come back?”
The other two exchanged glances upon hearing, then sighed: “We need to think of something good. Good news is, even if White Horse’s deeds are exposed someday, America at most confines him, won’t do anything to him.”
“Yeah, coming back—that’s probably ten thousand times harder than bringing you back, Dean Qian.”
Dean Qian smiled wryly upon hearing.
Monthly tickets please!
