Eagle Station

Shan’s eyebrows rose in bewilderment. “But, Colonel, the next Pilgrim mission isn’t scheduled to arrive for three months.” Pilgrim 5 was set to bring two more crewmen to Korolev — replacing Major Liu and Captain Yanin, who would be returning to Earth aboard the Federation spacecraft after spending more than six months on the moon.

“I’m well aware of that, Shan,” Tian said with a touch of iron in his voice. “I have another mission in mind for Chang’e-Thirteen.”

“Yes, sir,” the other man acknowledged hurriedly.

“In the meantime, put me in touch with Beijing Flight Control,” Tian ordered. “I need to speak with General Chen Haifeng as soon as possible.”

Twenty minutes later, he saw the commander of China’s Strategic Support Force appear on his monitor. “What is it, Colonel?” Chen asked.

“I need our best computer experts to make certain modifications to Chang’e-Thirteen’s navigation, rendezvous, and docking programs.”

Now it was Chen’s turn to look puzzled. “What sort of modifications?”

Carefully, Tian explained what he needed and why. When he finished, the general let his breath out in a soft whistle. He nodded slowly. “Very well, I understand. I’ll put our people to work on the coding at once.” His expression was deadly serious. “But I hope you will never need to put your plan into action.”

“So do I,” Tian assured him earnestly.

Forty-One

Shadow Bravo One, Entering Lunar Orbit

Sixty-Plus Hours Later

For most of their three-day voyage, the moon had been a presence off the S-29’s right forward quarter — a sphere half-blazing with reflected sunlight and half-cloaked in utter darkness that grew larger with every passing hour. Now, instead of seeing it as an object that they were flying toward, Scott Miller and Hannah Craig’s perspective of the moon had abruptly shifted. Its gray, cratered surface curved across the spaceplane’s entire cockpit canopy… and it was very obviously below them.

They were coming in at just under three thousand miles per hour, too slow to break free of the moon’s gravity and also too slow, for the moment, to enter a stable orbit that would stop them from ultimately slamming into the ground. Instead, the S-29 Shadow was steadily losing altitude as it flew westward across the moon — gliding along a descending arc that would bring them down to an altitude of around sixty miles as they swung around the far side and lost radio contact with Earth.

The Apollo missions had come in faster, heading around the moon at five thousand miles an hour before slowing down to enter orbit. With an armed enemy lunar base waiting somewhere on the far side, that wasn’t an option open to them.

From her right-hand seat, Craig carefully studied the terrain visible through their cockpit windows. Quick glances down at the detailed topographic map shown on her navigation display enabled her to fix their position and course. “Okay, I’ve got the Helvius crater rim just sliding past our right side. Grimaldi’s off the left wing. And that’s Riccioli there up ahead, just a little off to the left of our track. We’re headed right down the middle, Dusty.”

Miller saw the ancient crater she meant. It was huge — more than ninety miles across. Shallow ridges of debris thrown outward from more recent impacts streaked the floor. A layer of darker lava spilled across its northern half.

They were flying a course closely aligned with the moon’s equator. That would allow the S-29’s radar and thermal sensors to “see” more of the sites Space Force planners had picked out as possible locations for the Sino-Russian lunar base.

“Copy that,” he said. “How are we fixed for our LOI?”

Craig smoothly shifted her attention to their main engine readouts. “Temperatures and pressures all look good. Fuel status is good. No red lights. We are still go for our planned lunar orbit insertion burn in eight minutes, thirty seconds.”

“Okay, let’s seal up now, while we’ve got time.” Miller’s gloved hands slid the visor of his helmet closed and locked it in position. Beside him, Hannah Craig followed suit. Fresh air hissed through the umbilical hoses connecting their suits to the S-29’s life-support system.

Several minutes later, they heard Tony Kim’s voice through a faint hiss of static. Their fellow S-29 pilot was back on CAPCOM duty for this critical part of the mission. “Shadow Bravo One, this is Peterson Mission Control. Stand by for loss of signal in sixty seconds. We estimate reacquisition of signal in forty-six minutes.”

“Understood, Peterson. LOS in sixty seconds,” Miller radioed. “Talk to you on the other side.”

General Kelleher’s gruff voice came on the circuit. “Peterson Mission Control to Bravo One. Fly safe. Stay cool. But if those sons of bitches open fire on you, give ’em hell!”