Eagle Station

Leonov whistled softly, impressed. Translated, Mă Luó meant “mule.” It seemed an apt name for a spacecraft able to carry far more payload to the lunar surface than anything ever built before. But, like its Chang’e counterpart, there was something hauntingly familiar about this design. He looked closer, studying its key features. Then he saw it. With a wry smile, he turned back to his hosts. “That’s an enlarged version of the American-designed Blue Moon lander, isn’t it?”

Chen nodded, matching his amused expression. “We were able to acquire the technical specifications and design blueprints from its creator, the private space company Blue Origin.”

“Without their knowledge, I suspect?” Leonov said dryly.

“Naturally,” Chen replied.

Leonov felt a moment’s envy. Over the past several decades, China’s Ministry of State Security had painstakingly planted deep-cover intelligence officers and agents-of-influence in many of America’s government departments, private corporations, and universities. As a result, its ability to pry secrets loose far surpassed that of Russia’s Foreign Intelligence Service, the SVR, or the GRU, the armed forces’ Main Intelligence Directorate. While that was a clear advantage now, it was also an unwelcome reminder of just how dependent Russia was on its larger and richer Asian ally.

But then he looked down again at the prototype cargo spacecraft. It was much too heavy for any existing Chinese launch vehicle to carry into Earth orbit — let alone send to the moon. Only Russia’s powerful Energia-5VR rocket could do the job. He let his momentary irritation subside, soothed by this realization. So long as Beijing remembered that Moscow brought its own strengths to this combined enterprise, all would be well.

Twelve

Kansk-Dalniy Military Air Base, East of Krasnoyarsk, Russia

Some Weeks Later

Kansk-Dalniy’s 2,500-meter-long runway stretched across a flat countryside of fields and scattered patches of woodland. Revetments for the regiment of MiG-31BM Foxhound long-range interceptors stationed at the airfield were clustered near both ends of the strip. Hangars, maintenance shops, weapons bunkers, and barracks for the pilots and ground crews lined the runway’s northwest edge.

Located more than two thousand miles east of Moscow, this relatively isolated rural base was the last place one would ordinarily expect to find a large crowd of Russian military and government officials, along with representatives from the country’s top aircraft companies and design bureaus. And yet, here they were — waiting with growing anticipation to witness what was described as a key test flight in Russia’s top secret Firebird high-speed experimental aircraft program.

Many of the spectators occupied bleacher seating set up along the runway. Others milled around near a large temporary aircraft shelter erected next to the airfield’s wide concrete apron. Enlisted personnel circulated through the crowd, offering drinks and zakuski, hors d’oeuvres of cold cuts, fish, and vegetables.

One of the guests, a trim, efficient-looking lieutenant colonel with short blond hair and icy blue eyes, took a glass of sparkling wine. She nodded curt thanks to the airman who’d served her and then motioned him away. “Quite a festive atmosphere,” she murmured to the big, beefy man in civilian clothes standing next to her.

He snorted. “All but the weather, Colonel.”

Lieutenant Colonel Katya Volkova glanced up at the sky and nodded. Thick gray clouds stretched from horizon to horizon. Her mouth twisted slightly. “Not exactly ideal conditions for a test flight,” she said.

“Do you think it’ll be postponed?”

“God, I hope not,” Volkova said with a short laugh. “Another day spent hanging around this provincial dump? No, thank you.”

Many of those within earshot nodded their own agreement. Moscow was enjoying its best weather of the year right now — a far cry from the gloomy overcast currently covering most of this part of Siberia. Stadium-sized video monitors tuned to cameras broadcasting from Novosibirsk and Omsk showed the same dreary gray skies. And security concerns or not, it seemed absurd to stage this Firebird demonstration flight so far from the capital. Even Krasnoyarsk, the nearest decently sized city, was almost 125 miles away.

As it was, there were only limited windows of opportunity to conduct this test without fear of enemy observation. Careful timing was essential to ensure that America’s Eagle Station and its handful of newly launched reconnaissance satellites were in the wrong orbits to see anything over this sparsely populated portion of the Motherland.

Suddenly, a harsh alert tone blared through loudspeakers around the air base. “Vnimaniye! Attention! The test flight will now commence. Stand clear of the aircraft shelter. Repeat, stand clear of the aircraft shelter.”