[Original Novel] Facade, Part 5 (the finale!)

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Thrusters fired. No chutes deployed. Evidently their technology allowed a powered landing. The burn continued until I felt the vessel set down. The hatch opened automatically, the cylinder was angled appropriately, then propelled out through the open hatch into the snow.

Glorious, familiar snow. I crawled out, blubbering, overcome with relief. In the distance, the headlights of the recovery crew approached. I laid back, sinking into the snow, and looked at my watch. Then laughed at the sky.

I was wrapped in blankets, and the beautiful political officer I recognized from the car now pushed Vodka on me, laughing and even planting a kiss on my cheek. The technician and soldier also riding in the back with me grinned ear to ear.

The launch facility was wholly undignified. Drinking, cheering and carrying on, all men I recognized had been tense before the launch. Many came up and hugged me, slapped me on the back and tried to get me to join them in song. I suppose I expected a hero’s welcome upon return. Going into it. But after what I’d been through, all I wanted to do was sleep.

I awoke ten hours later, give or take. Feeling hung over and wondering if the entire disturbing affair had been a bad dream. The political officer handed me a telephone, and informed me someone would like to speak with me. I told her I needed more sleep, but she was very insistent. I understood why when I answered the call.

It was comrade Stalin. I nearly fell out of bed. Collecting myself, I listened intently and responded as politely as possible. “I understand you completed the mission assigned to you. No doubt it was an ordeal. Very few expected you to succeed, much less return. I commend you for the invaluable service you’ve performed for the Motherland, and for humanity. I trust you understand why we could not tell you more upfront, and why it is necessary that you never discuss the particulars with anyone. Again, congratulations.”

I sat back, dazed. This would mean big things for my family. Not at all what I’d expected from a career as a Cosmonaut, but right then I could find very little to complain about. At the political officer’s insistence I was brought before a panel of various Party officials who wished to thank me in person. The partying had thankfully died down, most were asleep in their bunks, so soon I sat before a semicircular table with an array of uniformed old men sitting around it.

“The probe returned confirmation that the device detonated”, one began. A projector lit up an immense screen behind them, with what looked like magnified satellite imagery of a nuclear blast. “It was a long shot, to deliver the payload this way. But while they routinely shoot down autonomous weapons, they can somehow detect if there are living occupants, and if so, allow landing. By now, you know why that is.”

I nodded somberly, recalling the processing plant I’d passed on the way to the launch facility. “It is no exaggeration to say that your improbable success has set them back by years, perhaps decades. Buying us time to draw up strategies and build more vehicles in advance of a full scale invasion. Your actions may well have turned the tide of the war.”

I thanked them for their kind words but reaffirmed that I’d only performed the duties assigned to me in service of our great Socialist Republic. As I knew it would, this delighted them, and it took fully several minutes for their applause to die down. That’s when they took off their masks.

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^{The End.}