Houston, Texas, USA, 1965
The simulator was Jim Donovan's sanctuary. The noise of the press and the Cold War faded away in the Gemini trainer. The rhythmic beep of the guidance system and instructions from mission control took their place.
Jim ran the docking sequence for the tenth time that day. He expertly maneuvered the simulated Gemini capsule toward the Agena target vehicle on his small window screen.
"Contact confirmed," he said. "Hard mate achieved."
"Good work, Lucky," came the voice of CAPCOM. "We'll see you in the morning for the final suit fitting."
Jim powered down the systems and climbed out of the simulator. A NASA liaison guided him toward a quiet office where General Teller and Dr. Thorne were waiting. Jim didn't like these ad-hoc briefings.
"Major," Teller greeted him.
"General. Dr. Thorne." Jim sat down. The smell of recycled air and electronics clung to his flight suit. "Everything okay? The sim is running flawlessly."
"The sim is perfect," Thorne said, leaning forward. "This is about the cargo manifest for the Agena target vehicle you'll be docking with."
Jim raised an eyebrow. "I thought the Agena cargo was just telemetry gear and orbital stabilization systems."
"Mostly," Teller confirmed. "But there's a minor addition. Standard procedure stuff. We're testing a new data cartridge for long-term storage in a vacuum. It’s housed in the external payload bay of the Agena."
Jim shrugged. "Okay. That’s an engineering issue, not a pilot issue. The docking procedure is standard."
"Exactly," Thorne said smoothly. "All you need to do is complete your mission objective: rendezvous and dock. The rest is automatic. The engineers just need this data package up there for exposure testing."
Jim looked from one man to the other. He sensed a tightness in the room, a tension that went beyond standard launch anxiety. His gut was telling him this was more than a storage test.
"Is this classified?" Jim asked directly.
"Top Secret, operational necessity," Teller said. "Beyond need-to-know for a pilot. You just need to trust your chain of command, Major."
Jim held their gaze for a moment. He had a duty to his country. He just wished they wouldn't lie to him so poorly.
"Understood, General," Jim said, standing up. "Need-to-know basis. I'll focus on the flying."
He saluted and left the room. He made a mental note to review the telemetry logs of the Agena's final orbit.
Star City, USSR, 1965
Sergei Kirov stood in the N1 assembly building. He had sent the anonymous note regarding the Pogo oscillation failure. Now he had to face the next problem: a delivery from the KGB.
Colonel Volkov entered the room with two large, sealed metal crates.
"A gift from our intelligence comrades," Volkov announced. "Retrieved from American orbital debris over the Bering Strait. High-altitude reconnaissance confirmed they ejected the shield for recovery."
Sergei raised an eyebrow. "Debris? From a test?"
"Exactly. Sloppy work by NASA. It seems we have a data cartridge. The casing is damaged, but the core is intact." Volkov used a crowbar to open the first crate, revealing a sophisticated piece of American technology.
"We need you to analyze this, Doctor Kirov," Volkov said. "This could be the key to their engine design, maybe even their lunar lander program. A true gift."
Sergei took the cartridge from Volkov's hand. He felt a different kind of suspicion than the American major. He looked at the serial numbers.
He took the data cartridge to his lab, bypassing the official KGB technical analysis department. He loaded the data onto a modified Soviet computer system.
He analyzed the engineering specifications: a Pogo oscillation dampening system for a clustered engine design. The design was elegant, brilliant even, addressing the core problem he was fighting. It looked perfect.
Sergei ran a simulation on the design.
But Sergei was a physicist before he was a patriot. He ran the simulation again, increasing the variables, pushing the pressure tolerance beyond what the American specs suggested. In the high-stress environment, the beautiful numbers began to glitch. The 98% efficiency inverted. The system created more oscillation.
Sergei stared at the screen, the truth sinking in. The Americans hadn't been careless. This wasn't a gift. It was bait. They knew the N1 was struggling with Pogo oscillation, and they were feeding the Soviets a poisoned apple.
He closed the program. He had a duty to science, and this data was a lie. He had to decide whether to expose the American trap, or remain silent and risk a fatal disaster for his countrymen. The race to the moon had just become a minefield.
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