Kafira

By John O'Neill

This is a story of tragedy, unrequited love, international suspense, and driving ambition to defeat the grab for world domination.
Kafira Weiss is an Israeli Biomedical Scientist whose passionate life purpose is to find a cure for the worlds most deadly disease. After a tragic beginning, Kafira becomes the Worlds leading expert on the disease, working at CDC in Atlanta to continue her research as the Associate Director of the Special Pathogens Unit.
In 1981, the Supreme Leader of North Korea lands rockets on the Moon, claiming the Moon for North Korea, to the exclusion of every other nation on Earth. To force the United Nations and the Member Countries to agree to his Claim, Kim iI Jong threatens to infect the world with a deadly disease.
Shin Min Shu, is a North Korean Biomedical Scientist who has been forced to develop a more deadly strain of the virus central to the Claim. But Shin Min Shu is unhappy to be party to the killing of women and children that will inevitably occur if the United Nations rejects the North Korean Claim.
Charles Edmonds is an ex Royal Marine Commando turned Astronomer who is now the Special Assistant to the Director of NASA. Charles becomes involved in the investigation of a teenage boys observation of a flash on the Moon that has been reported to the FBI. The investigation reveals a ruthless organisation that will stop at nothing to ensure that the Claim is agreed.
The CIA believes that the United States is being threatened, but needs proof. Kafira, as the Worlds leading expert on the disease has been requested to be part of the Lunar Module crew, to investigate the suspected presence on the Moon. Kafira agrees, and in doing so creates history as the first woman to walk on the Moon.
The desperate question facing Kafira is whether she is able to find a cure for the disease that the North Koreans intend to use before the deliberate infections reach epidemic proportions.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Jan 25, 2013
• ISBN: 9781481706339

John O'Neill

About the Author John O’Neill is a retired Naval Commander of the Royal Australian Navy who served most of his time as a Submarine Engineering Officer. Those years provided him with a range of experiences that were at times tense, but mostly of achievement. He served as the Submarine Staff Officer in London during the IRA terrorist days and the build of the remaining Oberon Class Submarines for Australia. Upon retiring from the Navy, he joined the Swedish Submarine builder Kockums to build the Collins Class Submarine in Adelaide South Australia. John holds a master’s degree in Business and Technology from the University of New South Wales. Seven Long Steps To Paradise is John’s third book, the first two being Kafira, and Two Crowns. John was awarded the Order of Australia Medal in 2009.

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© 2013 by John G O’Neill. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 01/22/2013

ISBN: 978-1-4817-0635-3 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4817-0634-6 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4817-0633-9 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2013900700

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Contents

Acknowledgements

Principal Characters

PROLOGUE

PART ONE

Chapter 1-Kafira

Chapter 2-Kaffie and Ira

Chapter 3-An Untimely Death

Chapter 4-Zaire

Chapter 5-Cambridge

Chapter 6-The Sudan

Chapter 7-Center for Contagious Diseases

Chapter 8-Miss Park Myong

Chapter 9-The North Korean Plan

Chapter 10-Miss Shin Min Shu

Chapter 11-Myong and Min Shu

Chapter 12-Early Progress

Chapter 13-Revelation

Chapter 14-The Rockets

Chapter 15-The Mole

Chapter 16-Discovery

Chapter 17-Deception

Chapter 18-Technical Hurdle

Chapter 19-The Watcher

Chapter 20-The First Launch

PART TWO

Chapter 21-The Flash

Chapter 22-The Cipher

Chapter 23-Interrogation

Chapter 24-Concerns

Chapter 25-The Unravelling

Chapter 26-Sabotage

Chapter 27-Moon Mission

Chapter 28-Disappearance

Chapter 29-Safe House

Chapter 30-Instruction to Kill

Chapter 31-Analysis

Chapter 32-Failed

Chapter 33-The North Korean Claim

Chapter 34-Lord James Halliday

Chapter 35-Deliberations

Chapter 36-Threatened

Chapter 37-Implementation

Chapter 38-The First Infection

Chapter 39-Confusion

Chapter 40-Kidnapped

Chapter 41-Mislead

Chapter 42-Breakthrough

Chapter 43-Arrogance

Chapter 44-Image

Chapter 45-Missiles

Chapter 46-The Mushroom

Chapter 47-Disaster

Chapter 48-Defeat

Chapter 49-Bureaucracy

Chapter 50-Terminated

Chapter 51-Elimination

Chapter 52-Remorse

Chapter 53-A Loss

Acknowledgements

This book would not have been possible without the significant contribution from my wife Beverley, and Tony, Richard, and Pam. My sincere thanks to you all.

I also want to acknowledge the forensic proof reading by David Baker, whose strong arguments and advice were an inspiration.

Principal Characters

Author’s Note:

Kafira, is a Jewish girls’ name and means, Young Lioness.

John O’Neill

October 2012

PROLOGUE

Monday, 12th November 1984—Mission Time 01 hour and 29 minutes

Kafira was some two hundred and fifty yards away from the Lunar Module, skipping through the pumice like ground, marvelling at the sight before and around her. She absorbed the eerie half-light, the clear, starry dark sky with Earth a ball in blue; no wind that she could see or feel by kicking the ground. She felt secure in herself, almost exhilarated.

The Moon has thirteen days of sunlight and thirteen days of darkness, so they had decided to exit the Module early morning when the temperature was below its peak at 107deg C. This was the fifth Day of the thirteen day sunlight cycle, so there was sufficient time to carry out the mission plan. The Mission time clock had been started on landing, and they had been on the surface for eighty nine minutes, before Kaffie exited.

Since leaving the Lunar Module, the excursion had gone to plan. Kaffie could still see the Module if she stopped and turned around, and knew that Frank would be watching her life support telemetry. She was also aware that there was another two hundred yards to go before she arrived at what this mission was really about.

Kafira had checked the suit and her equipment—as she and the crew had done so many times before in the simulator—after she had stepped down the ladder onto the grey powdery surface of the Moon. She was perhaps breathing faster than she did normally, but hey, it isn’t every day that you get to walk on the Moon! The designated landing zone had been missed on the way down to the surface by about two hundred yards, but Frank-the Module pilot—did not seem to be concerned. But Kaffie was somewhat anxious! They were close to the dark side edge, which meant that radio communication to Earth was likely to be weak and unstable.

She heard the mechanical voice of Frank through her headset, Kaffie, you are two hundred and fifty yards out by our laser rangefinder, and the elapsed time is 00:85. Are you still comfortable?

I know how far out I am, she thought, because she was checking her own rangefinder. However, she reported, Frank all my systems check. Suit pressure is slightly low but will adjust.

What was your suit pressure on exit?

4.7.

What is it now?

4.5.

Kaffie, please monitor it carefully. If you have to adjust again, it is possible that you have a leak somewhere.

Okay.

She glanced at the suit pressure digital readout on her wrist and saw that it had dropped to 4.2.

Kaffie adjusted the pressure and heard the swish of the increase to 4.7. She wasn’t overly concerned even if there was a slight leak, she knew that she had plenty of Oxygen, and the CO2 scrubbers were working well noting the levels were just below .09%.

Kafira was very much aware that her suit was designed to be strong yet flexible, made of a composite layer three sixteenth of an inch thick. The upper torso was a moulded plastic shell that fitted her body shape perfectly, but it was also strong enough to bear the weight of her life support pack. Perhaps more importantly, the suit was also designed to prevent micrometeorites from penetrating the outer skin.

Kafira felt a slight chill as the pressure rose. She started to feel a sense of anxiety; undefined, and yet it was there. The anxiety started to turn to real awareness that there was something going wrong with the pressure control in her suit. She noticed now that the pressure had fallen once again to 4.2. She called Frank to express her concern saying, Frank, I don’t feel comfortable with the pressure control in my suit. I adjusted it up to 4.7, but in the last minute, it has dropped to 4.1, and I am starting to feel hot. Can you monitor my readings to see what is happening? After what seemed like an interminable wait, Frank’s calm voice boomed over the intercom. I can see what you mean Kaffie, I want you to come back to the Module and let’s see what is going on; is that clear!

OK Frank, she replied.

As Kaffie turned, or really jumped, around to face the way she had come, she caught a flash in the corner of her eye to her left. As she turned her head to the left to confirm that it was a flash of something or not, the pressure alarm started to beep. She looked at her wrist display and saw that the suit pressure was now down to 3.8. Kaffie quickly adjusted the pressure; it did not make 4.5.

Mission Time—01:37

As Kaffie looked again to her left, she tripped on the uneven surface and sprawled on her back on the powdery pumice like surface. She wasn’t hurt, but she knew that getting to her feet again wearing the suit is no mean feat. She tried to roll over by lifting her right leg above and across her body to provide the necessary momentum. It didn’t work—she wasn’t strong enough to raise her leg enough to roll. Hmmm, she thought, This is going to be difficult. As the Command Service Module was passing overhead, the CSM Commander said, Kaffie this is Paul, I can see you, and you have to stand up otherwise your Support Pack will overheat.

I know, Kaffie managed to reply. I feel so weak that I don’t seem to be able to raise my legs enough to roll. Kaffie fumbled for the intercom switch again, depressed it, and said in a voice that didn’t sound like her. Frank, I don’t know if you can see me on the ground, but I just tripped and fell down onto my back, and I can’t seem to get up. My legs are weak, and the suit pressure is down to 3.0; my respiration rate is climbing, and I am overheating. Also, I can’t seem to concentrate on what I am supposed to do!

Kaffie, I am leaving the module now, and I will be with you in six minutes.

Kaffie, this is Paul, stop trying to roll over, you are using too much energy and oxygen.

Thanks for that Paul, but I can’t just lie here and do nothing. I think I am experiencing oxygen deprivation because the suit pressure is down to 2.7, and CO2 is climbing, and I am getting dizzy. Kaffie had the presence of mind to call Frank to say in a faltering shaky voice, Frank, make sure my readings are recorded so that you can investigate why this is happening.

Frank, this is Paul, I have turned Kaffie’s intercom off, so she can’t hear us. There is something seriously wrong here, and you need to get her back into the LM as soon as you can.

Mission Time—01:40

Paul I’m out of the Module now, heading towards her. I estimate it will take me five minutes to get there. Frank was outwardly calm, but he acknowledged what Paul was implying. If he didn’t get to her in six minutes, at the rate she was losing oxygen, she would die of hypoxia.

Kaffie, this is Frank. I am out of the Module, and heading toward you. I should be there in five minutes. Can you estimate the rate at which you are losing pressure?

"Frank, I am now having trouble breathing, and trouble focussing on anything. The pressure drop rate is about 0.3 every minute and is now 2.4. Frank, I can’t see the Module, only the stars and they are getting blurry. Kaffie was now extremely anxious. She obviously didn’t want to die here on the Moon.

Frank how far away from me are you? Kaffie asked in a trembling voice.

Not far Kaffie, another minute or so, Frank replied. I have with me a spare oxygen cylinder, so when I get there, I want you to lie still, so I can connect the spare tank to your support system, OK?

OK Frank, but you had better hurry as I am slipping into something of a dark hole, and I am damn hot.

Frank was sweating himself now, and with a chilling sense of dread, he still couldn’t see Kaffie. He was concerned that she could be slipping into a coma, as her voice was weak and croaky. He bounced along as hard as he could go, knowing that if he went too fast he would be likely to fall, which wouldn’t be all that smart. His adrenalin was high, and his heart rate was too fast, but still he loped along toward her.

Mission Time—01:46

At last, Frank could see Kaffie lying on her back in the dust, but he was twenty yards to her left and quickly turned toward her. He bounced the last few yards to her still body, Kaffie, can you hear me, Kaffie? . . . She didn’t respond!

Frank threw the emergency oxygen cylinder on the ground and unscrewed the cap on her pack. Kaffie wasn’t moving. He lifted her visor and to his horror, he saw that she was turning blue; her eyes were open but unfocussed, and the sweat was running down her face into her suit. His fumbling, shaking hands wrenched open the nozzle, screwed it to the external connector on the support pack, and turned on the emergency oxygen tank valve—nothing happened; no pressure, and certainly no oxygen issued into Kaffie’s life-support system.

Frank was now terrified and almost paralysed with the fear of failure. This was the only opportunity he had to save her. Any hope of getting her back to the Module and into the cabin atmosphere was impossible. It would be at least a ten minute trek, and despite the low gravity, with Kaffie unconscious she wouldn’t be able to assist him. He knew she would certainly become cyanotic before they reached the LM. Paul, there is no oxygen getting through to Kaffie’s support system from the spare oxygen cylinder, and it is pretty clear that her own support system is shutting down. Paul, Kaffie is turning blue. Her heart monitor is going crazy. Kaffie’s face was not only blue, but as Frank looked at her eyes again, he saw that they were still open, but seeing nothing. Paul, Kaffie is going to die unless I can do something.

Frank felt utterly useless. Watching Kaffie die like this was not the way they had envisaged the Mission would be completed. He leant down, wrapped his arms clumsily around her, and stared at her face. She was beautiful and intelligent, and the first woman to walk on the Moon. Now it appeared that she would be the first woman to die on the Moon.

Mission Time—01:49:30

Paul said, Frank are you sure that the connection was screwed down completely?

I am sure it was Paul, but I will check again, Frank replied, still watching Kafira’s beautiful face bloated and a terrible translucent blue, with her heart monitor showing that it was in fibrillation. He reached for the valve, to check it again by tightening it as far as it would go, and suddenly felt the rush of oxygen into the life support connection. He couldn’t believe it. How stupid of him, of course, the aluminium diaphragm had to be punctured before the oxygen could get to the valve. He turned to Kaffie’s helmet, and saw no evidence that Kaffie was receiving the oxygen. Frank shook her shoulder to no effect. Now Frank was desperate. How could he be so close and yet still lose her? He pounded the ground in frustration. Paul, Frank blurted out, I have been so fucking stupid, the diaphragm on the external connector was not punctured when I first attached the line connector; I didn’t screw down hard enough.

Frank, how many minutes had elapsed before you were successful in getting the oxygen to flow? Paul asked.

I don’t know Paul; it must have been three minutes. Frank replied.

Frank, you know that if Kaffie has been without oxygen for more than 4 minutes, it will be difficult to revive her and for her not to suffer any brain damage, Paul said in an irritatingly calm voice. I know Paul; I can only hope that there is now enough oxygen flowing into the suit. Frank looked at the digital pressure gauge on her wrist and saw that it read 1.9. That was good, but was it good enough, soon enough?

Frank, I am going to be out of range in 3 minutes and will not be able to contact you for a further thirty five minutes in the orbit. Do you think you can get Kaffie back to the module? I have to Paul, it doesn’t matter what it takes, Frank replied, Call me when you are back in range.

Ok Frank, please look after her.

Frank peered into Kaffie’s helmet. It was probably his imagination, but she didn’t seem as blue as before, and he did notice that her heart rate had slowed down somewhat. Thank God, he thought. Maybe she will get through this. Frank hooked the emergency oxygen cylinder to his suit belt, closed Kaffie’s visor, and bent down to hold her around her waist and lifted her up. Because of the low gravity, she wasn’t exceptionally heavy, but it was awkward. The best he could do was to cradle her in his arms and lope along. The cylinder was banging against his side as he moved, but Kaffie was still unconscious, and didn’t notice.

Mission Time—2:10

After twenty minutes of slow going, they eventually arrived at the bottom steps of the LM. Kaffie’s suit pressure was back up to 2.0, but she was breathing. Now the challenge was to get her up the steps and into the LM. Fortunately, this model LM had an external electric hoist for lifting moon rock specimens into the LM, so he secured Kaffie to the hook and hauled her up to the hatch. Then it was a relatively straightforward matter of pushing her limp body into the LM itself.

Frank lay Kaffie down, closed and locked the hatch and re-pressurized the cabin. Her heart rate was reading 160, and her lips were still blue. The rest of her face was pale. But it wasn’t quite so bloated. This is better, Frank thought looking at the cabin pressure now at 4.0. I can remove her helmet now at this pressure, he said to himself. It isn’t difficult to remove the helmet, and he lifted it off her head in twenty seconds. Kaffie stirred, and her eyes fluttered open. Frank, she said, Am I back in the LM? The last thing I remember was lying on my back, and feeling as if I was falling into a black hole.

Kaffie, you’re back in the LM, we nearly lost you out there; what in the hell happened?

I don’t know Frank, one minute I was quite comfortable, the next I found the suit pressure was dropping, and I certainly couldn’t get enough oxygen.

Frank filled a plastic cup with water and held it to her lips,

Here drink this Kaffie, because you have lost a lot of fluid.

The temperature in the LM was now around twenty degrees centigrade, so Kaffie sat up and started to take off her suit. Underneath she was soaked from sweating profusely during her ordeal. She still felt terribly weak, but was able to slip off the torso section and move herself to a position where she could remove her boots and the long pressure pants.

Frank I honestly don’t know what happened. I did see a flash to my left as I turned around after you told me to return. I don’t know what that was, but it was then that I tripped and fell on my back. But Frank, I just don’t understand how I could lose pressure so quickly? Paul’s voice came over the intercom. Frank I can’t see you outside the LM. Is Kaffie alive?

Yes thank God, she is. If I hadn’t fumbled the connecter, she would have recovered on the ground, but as it was, after the diaphragm was punctured the pressure did at least rise to a level where she was getting oxygen. We hopped back to the LM together. Kaffie has recovered to the extent that she feels reasonably comfortable and is talking to me.

OK Frank. We need to find out why the suit lost pressure. I want you to examine that suit from top to bottom, said Paul. I have reported to Mission Control that we have had an incident. I can now add that Kaffie is OK as far as you can tell, but Frank keep an eye on her and take a quick blood sample just to be sure.

OK Paul will do.

Kaffie you heard him. Let’s get a sample of your blood and store it for analysis for when we get back. As Kaffie was wriggling out of her suit, Frank was examining each item as it came off.

What is that smell Kaffie, said Frank,

It’s rotten whatever it is, he said glancing at Kaffie. He then examined the oxygen regulator and found that it appeared to be working properly. Next, the CO2 connection and scrubber, no problems were evident. He removed the Life Support Pack from the torso shell and then saw it. A small burnt ragged hole in the fabric, about an eighth of an inch across and three sixteenth of an inch long, just about level with the lower waistband, and the smell was now overpowering. How the hell did that get there, he thought, and what would make a hole like that. These suits have a three sixteenth thick multiple layer of material with the strongest component being Kevlar. This compound fabric will stop micrometeorites; so what caused this?

Paul, I have found a three sixteenth of an inch long hole about waist level in the suit, and it smells terrible. Damned if I can think of how it got there. Hang on; there are bits of some sort of plastic pieces around the hole. Paul I will have to get back to you after I examine this stuff. Kaffie crawled toward Frank, to look at what he had seen.

How did that get there? She said incredulously.

This looks like a piece of a capsule, said Frank, and I think I know what that smell is.

What?

It is Sulphuric Acid!

Kaffie, someone had deliberately hidden a capsule of some sort with sulphuric acid in the first fold, so that when you tightened the torso, it crushed the capsule and acid leaked out into the material and started burning it away.

I have just realised that when I was carrying you back, I obviously restricted the hole so that the oxygen leaked out at a slower rate.

Thank God it did, said Kaffie.

Paul we’ve got something serious here. We found what looks like a crushed capsule that has obviously had sulphuric acid in it, said Frank as calmly as he could. We have been sabotaged! The mission has been sabotaged, and Kaffie was the target.

Frank, Kaffie is going to have to exit again in a new suit to find out what in the hell is going on.

I’m not sure she can handle it after this episode Paul, said Frank.

Rubbish! Exclaimed Kaffie, I need to find out three things—what caused the flash Jamie saw, what is actually going on here, and now what caused the flash that I saw? Someone obviously doesn’t want us to find out what is up here. They failed to stop me in the first instance, and it is clear that my EVA suit was sabotaged back on Earth. I believe it’s unlikely that any further attempt to stop me will happen up here.

Paul said calmly, I agree Kaffie, but are you sure that you are up to it?

Mission Time—2:55

Kaffie certainly didn’t want to exit the LM a second time. She still felt light headed, and her legs were a little weak. She was now thanking the SEAL’s for their training, because she knew she could fight through the pain. She continued breathing pure oxygen to make her feel better, but Kaffie knew she could do it. They had all agreed that, as a minimum, it was necessary to identify what produced the flash that Kafira had seen. This time both she and Frank checked and rechecked her suit before she climbed into it. There was an unbroken capsule in the second suit, in exactly the same place as the first. It was removed and placed in a plastic bag, to take back to Earth. Climbing into the now clean suit, Frank pressurized her suit that then stabilized at the correct pressure.

Mission Time—3:05

Once again, on the surface, Kaffie cautiously made her way to the point where she had tripped and fallen some ninety minutes earlier. There was a lot of disturbed dust but nothing else. Kaffie was watching her readout carefully, but didn’t notice any abnormalities, and told Frank so. Passing that point, she turned right to the direction she had seen the flash and within two hundred yards climbed the ridge of the Crater Poncelet, which was not all that far from where she was supposed to be in the first place. Here, the ground sloped up toward the lip of the Crater Poncelet. The crater was enormous, and she knew from Charles that it was some seventy miles across, and his calculation was that it was about a mile deep in the middle. As Kaffie reached the rim, a drop of some five hundred yards that was roughly terraced and nearly vertical to the sloping rocky floor below confronted her. Kaffie couldn’t see anything unusual directly in front of her, but then noticed that there was an odd disturbance in the rock formation on a rough ledge, five yards to her left. She thought she could get to the ledge, but Kaffie saw that she would have to climb down a steep slope of some twenty yards to get to it, knowing she would be out of direct sight of Frank and the LM. A decision point she thought, Frank, I am climbing down into the crater to investigate some odd-looking formations.

Ok take it easy Kaffie, and tell me everything you see; and keep that camera rolling.

Mission Time—3:08

Kaffie was being ultra-careful not to fall again and made sure that every step she took was on solid ground before putting her weight on it for the next step. This obviously made for hard going, and her heart rate started to climb, but the suit pressure was still at 4.7. Good, she thought, the regulator is adjusting to my respiration rate.

Mission Time—3:15

Kaffie was within five yards of what she thought was the disturbed formation on the ledge, when out of the ground in front of her rose a periscope. Kaffie gave an involuntary squeak and stopped. The top lens wasn’t looking directly at her, but it was turning in a clockwise direction and would see her very soon. Frank a periscope has just risen out of the formation that I saw. It hasn’t seen me yet, but it will.

Shit Kaffie-for God’s sake get out of there, said Frank in a high pitched voice.

Kaffie thought quickly. If I can get up close and cling to the periscope tube, it won’t be able to see me. She scrambled the last five yards toward the tube and put her back to it as it rotated. It worked, she thought. Well at least, she hoped it worked.

Mission Time—3:15:30

Just as suddenly, the periscope started to come down. Kaffie ensured that the lens was facing away from her as it slid into the ground, and two large plates moved to cover the hole.

Frank, whoever was on the other end of this thing probably didn’t see me, but I can’t be sure. I’m coming back to the LM, said Kaffie breathlessly.

Kaffie hurriedly scrambled back up the slope and hopped quickly down the other side of the ridge. Looking back, she thought that the top lens would only poke over the ridge by about a yard before it would scan three sixty degrees of the surface around it. It must have been the sun reflecting off the lens that she had seen before she tripped.

Frank I managed to get away from the periscope, but I want you to focus on the point just to the right of where I fell, and if it appears again, please let me know and aim the top laser at the lens to blind them or it, gasped Kaffie.

Ok Kaffie, just get back here quickly, said Frank adjusting his field telescope on the spot indicated by Kaffie through his triangular window, and priming the laser at the same time. Paul, I assume you heard that, said Frank.

Yep, I sure did. Get her inside as quickly as possible and we will then decide what to do, while I alert Mission Control and the Shuttle, said Paul.

Mission Time—3:20

Kaffie made it back to the LM with Frank waiting to haul her in.

Frank, I am concerned that we have stumbled upon something quite alien, and yet I can’t understand why this ‘thing’ hasn’t shown itself, Kaffie said breathing heavily.

I’m sure that the flash I saw the first time was the sun reflecting off the top lens, but the lens wasn’t aimed at me.

Kaffie then said, I am just going to check the timing here, because I don’t think that periscope was operated manually.

If it were manned, it would have stopped to investigate, but it didn’t, it just did one three sixty degree scan, and then lowered itself. It reminded me of the way a Submarine Captain does a three sixty degree sweep before surfacing, to make sure there is nothing up there that he would run into while surfacing.

"You might be right Kaffie, but it hasn’t risen since you reported it, and that was some 20 minutes ago.

Frank, I think it is operated on a timer. Look at the times that it has appeared. From the log, I saw the flash at 1:37. We came back to the LM at 2:10. Our backs were towards the crater, so we wouldn’t have seen it rise again. The periscope appeared at 3:15 while I was in the crater. I think that it appears at timed intervals; probably once every half hour.

What time is it now Frank?

3:21, said Frank,

Well; if I am right, it will appear again at 3:45 and at 4:15!

Ok, said Paul, I hear what you are saying Kaffie, but I want to bring the launch sequence forward to 3:49.

Ok, said Frank, 3:49 it is.

Kaffie was exhausted. She was light headed, and her arms felt like lead. She felt dirty and messy and longed for a long hot shower. But this was not going to happen; all she could do was splash her face with the small amount of water from the bottle that they had on board, and that was it.

While Frank prepared for the launch, Kaffie was anxiously glancing at the digital clock, as well as focussing the field telescope on the craters’ ridge. Frank, I did see a lot of disturbed ground down further to the right of where the periscope emerged. It looked as if there had been a dump of rocks that looked man made. I couldn’t be sure though, as I had other things on my mind, said Kaffie. The camera might have picked up some of what I am talking about. I will have to look at the film later when we get out of here.

At 3:45 precisely, the top of the periscope appeared; did a 30 second sweep and then disappeared.

Gotcha, said Kaffie.

Frank said, Well it looks as if it is unmanned, and on a timer as you said.

Unmanned or not, someone must be seeing what it sees somewhere. The thing is, it must be able to see the LM and our activity outside, said Kaffie with a frown.

Then maybe not, mused Kaffie. Without going out there again and working out the angles, I don’t think it could see me on the surface when I tripped. I don’t think it would have seen you leaving the LM either Frank, if the timing is what we think it is, but it could obviously see the LM. Why we haven’t seen more investigation from it, is beyond me? Said Kaffie.

Paul, can we bring the launch sequence forward, this is becoming a bit scary, and the sooner we are out of here the better.

Yes Frank, said Paul, I heard Kaffie’s explanation, and I agree.

Thanks Paul. I’ll commence the launch sequence now, said Frank quietly. Paul I make ignition at 3:50. I will finish the check off for that time.

Ok Paul, we’re ready, give us the countdown sequence, said Frank.

Ok Frank here we go, said Paul calmly.

Frank or Paul, you aren’t going to like this, but the side of the crater just opened up a tunnel some six yards wide. There is a spidery tub like thing crawling out and levelling what I think is a barrel at us, said Kaffie excitedly, strapping herself into the standing harness.

Shit said Frank. Paul you heard that, I am starting the launch sequence to GO.

Frank quickly checked the launch sequence list; satisfied, he ignited the lift motor. There was a shuddering throughout the LM, as the blast from the motor lifted the ungainly craft off the platform and hurled it towards the Command Service Module. This was breath-holding time for Frank and Kaffie, but as the LM gained height, Kaffie looked back down toward the crater. She could see the tub like vehicle stop and reverse; the rocks slide back, and the tub like vehicle disappeared. The on-board camera was clicking away on auto, so there was a least a record of what she had seen.

Frank that thing has reversed into its hole in the crater, said Kaffie expelling the breath she was holding. We are away free.

Paul said, I can see you have lifted off and are gaining height, so stand by for the docking.

Mission Time—3:57

Frank expertly docked the LM, and they both crawled through to the Orbiter to be greeted by a grinning Paul.

What were you guys doing—disturbing the Natives? He said jokingly.

Seriously Paul, this is serious stuff! That tub thing was about to fire something at us, but didn’t because we launched in time, and it lost the target, us.

Ok Frank, we have twenty hours to go before getting back to the Shuttle. Kaffie looks exhausted, and you don’t look much better.

Kaffie get into the sleeping bag and get some rest. You too Frank, while I talk to Houston and Michael on the Shuttle.

Kaffie could hardly keep her eyes open as she crawled into the sleeping bag. Within five minutes, she was fast asleep.

Several hours later, Kaffie woke up with Frank shaking her gently, Ok Kaffie, we are in the docking position—time for lock on!

It was Tuesday, 13th November 1984

PART ONE

Chapter 1

Kafira

Tuesday, 8th June 1971—11:00AM

Kafira Weiss looked up at the bright, clear blue sky as the graduating class of 1971 from the Ben Gurion University, roared the joy of having successfully achieved their individual goal. Kafira was doubly pleased because her marks were slightly better than Ira Ratzik. Not that it mattered so much, Ira had been her constant partner through the last semester, and Kaffie was in love with him. In other words, she felt safe and comfortable with him, and they had shared the agony and frustration of studying to master their respective subjects.

Her parents Rachel and Simon, her brothers Hiram and Aaron, and her dearest friends, gathered around her heaping praise and congratulating her. Her Mother crying a little and muttering to her over and over, Mazel tov, you bring many Naches.

Kafira looked lovingly at her mother and reflected how much easier it was for herself to achieve her educational goal. Her Mother suffered terribly through the Second World War in Poland, but through her extraordinary personal ambition and drive, Rachel graduated from the ‘Underground University,’ that was formed after the German Army shut down all Polish Universities in 1939. Living and studying in fear of being caught by the Germans was a constant threat to her and her family throughout those years, yet Rachel went on after the war to be recognised as an extremely capable and well regarded Gastroenterologist in Israel. Kafira learnt the story of her parent’s hardship and ultimate survival through her father, as her mother did not talk about those terrible years at all.

Kaffie was nearly three years old in 1949 and obviously did not have a clear memory of leaving Poland in the train with her Mother and Father. Her Father described that train as being nothing more than a cattle truck that smelled terrible, with the food almost inedible. After suffering the two day journey, the family eventually arrived in Marseilles in a sorry state. There, they expected to find a ship that would take them to Haifa. Her Father being a Lawyer, had managed to secure a British visa to settle in Israel, but in 1949, Israel was in turmoil. Since June 1948, Israel had been at war for various periods, and despite Armistice agreements being signed, people were still being killed by those Arab nations who rejected the declaration of a Jewish State. The Family waited seven weeks in an extremely small hotel in Marseilles before a ship was willing to take the family, together with many others, to Haifa. During those weeks, Kafira was ill for five of them with a virulent stomach virus that her mother wasn’t able to treat, simply because there were no drugs or indeed any money. Of course, under the ministrations of her Mother Kafira survived, but then Kafira became violently seasick on the voyage to Haifa.

The Weiss family reached Haifa on the 23rd March 1949, the day Israel signed the Armistice with Lebanon, and Kafira had wasted away to a shadow of her former self. However, they were joyously met on the wharf by Kafira’s Uncle David and his Polish wife Gillian, who had arranged for them to travel to Tel Aviv some fifty miles to the south, in a decidedly old British truck. They travelled in convoy as there were still skirmishes along the coast with Egyptian militia, but they eventually arrived in Tel Aviv safely, where they were able to stay for two weeks before moving on to Jerusalem.

Kafira often wondered why her father so desperately wanted to settle near or in Jerusalem, and it didn’t become clear to her until she was fifteen, and the trial of Adolf Eichmann was being held. She found her father weeping at the news. He then told her that Jerusalem to him was the exact centre of his being and that he regarded being in Jerusalem at last, as coming home and that the murderer of so many Jews was being brought to account.

Kafira grew into a tall, beautiful woman with jet black hair that grew down to her shoulders. To the envy of her girlfriends, Kafira was blessed with the same full, but slim figure as her mother, although she was singularly unconscious of it. Kaffie was a natural beauty with a lightly tanned complexion that never needed any makeup. In her High School, as she became a woman, she attracted most of the male population; but Kafira was wise enough to know that she didn’t have to fall in love with the first boy who flattered her. In doing so, she acquired a reputation for being cold. Nothing could have been further from the truth! Kafira was acutely aware of her sexuality, but she didn’t seek to dispel that perception, besides she was too busy concentrating on her studies to be terribly concerned.

Ira Ratzik was quite a different proposition; he didn’t pay any attention to her at all, and it wasn’t until the second semester of their last year while finishing their separate courses, that Kaffie noticed Ira. Despite her practised aloofness, it annoyed her that he simply looked through her. At a Campus party, her annoyance became an irritation when Kaffie saw that Ira was deeply engaged in a whispering conversation with a girl that she didn’t know, but she could see that she was very young and giggly; probably in the second year! Kaffie broke away from her circle of girls, and walked over to where Ira and the giggly girl were standing. Kaffie said to the girl, Please excuse me, I think I know your brother Danny, but I may be wrong! Please tell me your family name is Raiz?

I am sorry, said the girl a little startled, It isn’t! You have mistaken me for someone else, my family name is Schneider.

Oh! Please forgive me. I obviously got that wrong, said Kaffie now looking at Ira. And who might you be? Trying to soften her face to look straight into his eyes. That was a mistake, because his eyes captivated her immediately. She didn’t expect to see the softness and light that virtually shone from them and she suddenly felt funny and loose. Kaffie quickly recovered to hear Ira say politely, My name is Ira Ratzik; and who might you be? Bowing slightly toward her. Ira thought to himself, ‘I know who you are, Miss Kafira Weiss. Everybody knows who you are! Kafira Weiss was probably the most beautiful girl in the University, but seemingly untouchable, and regarded as a bit icy. What do I do now?’

My name is Kafira Weiss but, please call me Kaffie; all my friends do, said Kaffie holding his eyes with hers. Ira felt his stomach tighten, and managed to say,

Ok, Kaffie it is, said Ira, who by now had forgotten that there was another girl standing next to him. The only thing that Ira could think of to say was, Can I get you a drink Kaffie? Kaffie thought quickly. ‘I don’t want to be left here with giggly girl,’ she thought, and said, Oh yes, thank you Mr Ratzik, but shall I come with you, to see what drinks they have?

To Ira she smelt positively delicious as she walked close to him toward the Bar, and he had difficulty thinking clearly. Perhaps Kaffie sensed it, because she saved the embarrassment of Ira stumbling over his words trying to order the drinks, by confidently ordering a mineral water for herself and a Goldstar lager for Ira. Kaffie led Ira out onto the balcony where she toasted him, and looked into his eyes saying, "Mr Ira Ratzik you are the