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One Small Step
By Andrew Hellard
July 20, 1969 (19:10 UTC)
Official Apollo 11 Radio Transcript
Classified: Top Secret
ALDRIN: Houston?
MISSION CONTROL: What is it now, Buzz?
ALDRIN: I think we have a problem.
MISSION CONTROL: We’ve been over this. You can’t sing the MIT fight song while Neil puts up the flag. The Harvard boys in DC would have a fit. Besides, it’s obscene.
ALDRIN: It’s only a little obscene.
MISSION CONTROL: Not going to happen.
ALDRIN: Have it your way. But that’s not the problem.
MISSION CONTROL: What’s going on?
ALDRIN: Well, here’s the thing. Neil says he’s not going to leave the lander.
MISSION CONTROL: What?
ALDRIN: He says that if he sets foot outside the lander, the Martians are going to eat his soul.
MISSION CONTROL: What?
ALDRIN: Neil got into the reserve canisters and he’s been huffing pure oxygen for the last six hours.
MISSION CONTROL: I can’t believe this. We told you guys that you have to watch Neil every second. Did you at least keep him away from the Tang?
ALDRIN: I’m afraid not. Hey, it’s not like we don’t have other stuff going on right now. Besides, Collins was supposed to be keeping an eye on him.
MISSION CONTROL: You can point fingers after the mission is over. Look, I don’t care how you do it, but as soon as you touch down, Neil has to go out and get that flag in the ground.
ALDRIN: I don’t understand why Neil has to be on flag detail. It’s not all that difficult. I could go out, run the flag up, say something inspirational over the radio, and crawl back inside. Five minutes, in and out.
MISSION CONTROL: It has to be Neil. Nixon likes Neil. I don’t know why. No one knows why. The President was very specific.
ALDRIN: He just wants to make sure he wins Ohio in the next election.
MISSION CONTROL: What was that?
ALDRIN: Nothing. Oh, for crying out loud…
MISSION CONTROL: Is everything ok there?
ALDRIN: Now Neil’s locked himself in one of the storage cubbies. He won’t come out. He says the Martians are watching.
MISSION CONTROL: You’ve got to be kidding me. Have you tried talking to him?
ALDRIN: Yes. Every time I get near him, he starts raving about how much he hates logarithms.
MISSION CONTROL: Ok, try this. Tell him that the Martians can’t get him, because you’re not going to Mars.
ALDRIN: That might actually work. I’ll give it a shot.
ALDRIN: He says that the Martians have a time-share vacation house on the Moon. He says everyone knows that.
MISSION CONTROL: I told them that we didn’t need pilots, that chimpanzees would make great astronauts, but no, they had to have prima donna flyboys.
ALDRIN: What was that?
MISSION CONTROL: Nothing.
ALDRIN: What do you want me to do here? We’re going to touch down in less than ten minutes.
MISSION CONTROL: Maybe we could get a priest on the line to tell him that his soul’s going to be ok.
ALDRIN: I think he’s Presbyterian.
MISSION CONTROL: That’s going to be a problem. I don’t think there are any Presbyterians in Texas.
ALDRIN: Probably not in Houston, at least. How about this? I’ll go out there and you can just tell everyone that I’m Neil.
MISSION CONTROL: That’s no good. As soon as you plant the flag, we’re supposed to patch you through to the White House.
ALDRIN: I’ve got to talk to that weasel Nixon?
MISSION CONTROL: No, Neil has to talk to that weasel Nixon. And trust me, you don’t want to know what will happen if the President gets on the horn and finds that his favorite astronaut is hiding in a storage bin and screaming about Martians.
ALDRIN: I don’t think that would be good for any of our careers.
MISSION CONTROL: He’d probably tell us to just leave you out there.
ALDRIN: You could do that?
MISSION CONTROL: Yeah. We’ve been controlling the lander this entire time. That joystick in the cockpit isn’t actually attached to anything.
ALDRIN: This just keeps getting better and better. I should have stayed at MIT.
MISSION CONTROL: Give me a second to check with the guys here. We should be able to come up with something. We are rocket scientists, after all.
ALDRIN: I was happy there. I could have had tenure. And a little Cape Cod in Cambridge. Painted yellow.
MISSION CONTROL: Ok, here’s what you’re going to do. Tell Neil that the Martians have Genghis.
ALDRIN: Who’s Genghis?
MISSION CONTROL: Neil’s Pomeranian.
ALDRIN: Neil has a Pomeranian named Genghis?
MISSION CONTROL: Look, just tell him that the Martians are going to vaporize the dog if Neil doesn’t go out there and plant that flag.
ALDRIN: Ok.
ALDRIN: He’s going to do it.
MISSION CONTROL: Great.
ALDRIN: Not quite. Neil said that he’s going to put the flag up, but he’ll be damned if lets those Martians enjoy their victory.
MISSION CONTROL: What?
ALDRIN: He said he’s going to tell the world what he thinks of those little green freaks.
MISSION CONTROL: This isn’t going to end well.
ALDRIN: Probably not.
MISSION CONTROL: Tell him the Martians said that if he mentions aliens, the dog gets it.
ALDRIN: Ok, but I’m not responsible for anything that happens if you send him out there without a script. You remember that incident in Akron.
MISSION CONTROL: I can’t do everything here. Just make something up. I don’t care if you have to crib a line from “The Road Less Traveled.”
ALDRIN: This is not what I signed up for.
MISSION CONTROL: Quit whining and get Neil into his spacesuit. And whatever you come up with for him to say had better be good. The world is going to hear this.
End of Transcript
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