Ignition came at four seconds.

Smoke and light flooded from the broad base of the N-1, across the steppe, and fire billowed into the trenches beneath the ship.

Seger watched as the glare built up. That broad first stage contained no less than thirty rocket engines, compared to five on a Saturn.

The first few moments of launch were critical. Unlike Saturn, the N-1 was not held back for a controlled release while its thrust built up. Rather, it simply lifted from the pad once its thrust exceeded its weight. And there was no provision for engine shutdown.

The huge stack lifted, impossibly, on its pillar of fire. It was like watching a cathedral raise itself off the ground.

Once the stack was more than its own length from the ground, the N-1 accelerated quickly. Following its flight path it tipped over, its base an explosion of light.

Then the sound reached the observation bunker, and the window before Seger rattled; the light blazed into the room, as if a small sun had arisen from the steppe. He felt the throb of the rockets deep in his gut.

Michaels leaned over to Seger. “It seems to be going okay.”

“Max-Q,” Seger shouted back over the noise. “It has to get through max-Q.” The point of maximum aerodynamic pressure was the point at which problems had occurred on previous flights. It was the early failure of the N-1 which had, essentially, lost the race to the Moon for the Soviets. For example the last N-1 trial before Apollo 11, in 1969, had suffered such violent vibration that an internal line had come loose. Liquid oxygen had sprayed through the body of the rocket. Engines exploded; turbopumps tore themselves apart… The explosion was equivalent to a tactical atomic bomb, so powerful it had been detected by American reconnaissance satellites.

The timers on the wall said sixty-six seconds.

“I think that’s it,” Seger breathed. “The engines will be throttling back up to full power.”

“So they’re through the worst of it?”

“Oh, no. No, with this bird it isn’t over until the fat lady sings, Fred.”

Michaels clapped him on the shoulder and went to talk to the other guests.

Seger stayed at the window long after the others had moved away, and the rattling of the launch had dispersed. He watched the dwindling light in the sky, and counted through the launch events in his head. Mission Elapsed Time [Day/Hr:Min:Sec] Plus 121/12:23:34

Gershon floated out of the docking adapter and into the Command Module’s forward access tunnel. He emerged headfirst at the top of Apollo’s conical cabin. He did a neat somersault in the air, translating from the “up” of the Mission Module to the “down” of the Apollo.

To Gershon, this inversion was one of the strangest aspects of the whole trip.

He closed the hatch behind him, dogging it loosely.