July 20, 1961

“The train will be arriving at Harmony Space Center in fifteen minutes, Secretary Rusk,” said a plain brown-coated unicorn who poked his head into the open sleeper car. “I’ll go notify the rest of your staff. Both of the Princesses will be at the demonstration, so we’d like you to be early off the train so you can get to the observation deck before all the press starts getting in the way.”

“Very well, Gallant.” Rusk stood up and caught himself before giving the young stallion a dime, like he would have tipped a servant back in the states. Gallant was undoubtedly one of incognito Royal Guards, from the faint impressions that wearing armor had worn into his coat during his service. The unicorn was also undoubtedly quite able to tie Rusk into a knot and pound him into the ground like a nail. Unicorn bodyguards were in high demand, although the US Secret Service would more likely hire a left-handed manatee than an Equestrian of any variety.

Secretary of State Dean Rusk had a most difficult job, dealing with difficult people. Most of his days could be spent without a single thought being directed at the tiny island nation of Equestria. He was aware of their scientific advances, of course, as well as unexpected support of the United States on certain occasions, sometimes welcome, sometimes not. But for the most part, Equestria ‘stayed the hell out of the way’ to the point where they were not a strategic partner, satellite of some first-world power, puppet government, or anything other than a rather odd tourist attraction and source of extreme frustration for any government who tried to bend them in a direction that their leadership deemed unwise.

At least Equestria now had a stable government with one… that is two heads of state which were not going to change in the immediate future. The new Crystal Empire which just sprang into existence on the southern end of Greenland was headed by yet another alicorn, which gave various nations cases of the hives, although the native government of the rest of the country took the new nation as an ally instead of an usurper.

It probably helped that the Crystal Empire’s ‘magic’ dome left the interior of the small nation warm and cozy, and a valued vacation destination for frostbitten Greenlanders in the middle of the winter.

Rusk really missed the pre-war era when things did not change so fast. He held that thought as the chuffing train came to a halt at Harmony Station and his diplomatic contingent disembarked, and even when the humming magic-powered bus carried them off to a nondescript building in the middle of a group of similar structures. He had heard of the Equestrian space program, mostly due to the articles and colorful pictures of explosions in various US newspapers. Why in the world Princess Celestia wanted the US Secretary of State to visit their fireworks factory was a complete and total mystery to him, and the presentation they held before the launch only made things more confusing. Finally, he had enough of the slide-show being projected onto the screen at the front of the room and stood up.

“Captain Sprocket, are we to believe Equestria is launching a manned rocket with the intention of reaching orbit today?”

“Yes, of course.” The young stallion blinked several times behind his large glasses and cocked his head slightly to one side. “Although ‘manned’ is a bit of a misnomer. Captain Rainbow Dash has been up on several of the crewed missions over the last year, testing the limits of thaumic influence on propulsion systems.”

“But they all blew up,” said Rusk, feeling a little lost and wondering just how many astronauts Equestria had killed.

“Post-test, of course. All dynamic disassembly processes were triggered after the escape capsule was ejected in order to prevent the remainder of the rocket from presenting a danger to shipping or terrestrial land masses,” said the unicorn as if he was talking to a child. “Besides, we really did not want to steal the limelight from the Soviet or US space programs. Slow and steady wins the space race, after all.”

“You’re going to the moon?” asked Rusk before he could stop himself.

“Of course not.” The unicorn fast-forwarded the slide deck to a diagram which showed the relative Gross Domestic Products of several countries, with a small sliver at the bottom for Equestria. “At best, we will be a satellite launch competitor with the extended version of the current launch vehicle, which we plan on producing and launching at United States facilities, if permitted. It’s too big for our launch pad,” he added, sounding slightly embarrassed.

Secretary Rusk paid considerably more attention to the rest of the presentation, making notes on the paper copies of the slides he was given, and maintained his tense concentration for the next several hours until they were brought out to a balcony a mile or so away from the relatively small rocket squatting among a web of metal support arms.

“Fuel,” he said when the countdown reached several minutes. “Are we going to be far enough away from the launch to avoid any toxic fumes?

“Just kerosene and liquid oxygen,” said Captain Sprocket, who had taken his place right beside Rusk for the launch. “We don’t have the facilities, alloys, or experience to use liquid hydrogen, like I understand your companies are planning for their moon launch vehicle. Everything on the vessel is structurally overbuilt, so mistakes don’t turn into disasters. On the last few flights we even included one of your Navy officers, but this flight is special..”

“One of our astronauts?” repeated Rusk, but before the unicorn could respond, a very human officer in a Navy uniform tapped him on the shoulder and shook hands when Rusk turned around.

“Sorry, sir. Thought I was going to be late. The press downstairs is vicious.” It was a bit of a shock for Rusk to see a human officer after talking to an Equestrian, particularly since the man was balding and most ponies… weren’t. Still, he had a very friendly smile and an open face as he introduced himself. “Lieutenant Ronald Evans, US Navy, on temporary detachment to the ESA. I got caught up in this when the Admiral asked for volunteers and pointed at me. Next thing I knew I was surrounded by ponies and learning how to drive their spaceship. It has been one hell of a year so far. Never thought I’d find something as exciting as a carrier landing, but here I am.”

“You’ve been up in that—” Rusk’s eyes flickered to the launch pad and the inadequate rocket it contained “—thing?”

“Yes, sir. Several times. They even let me name this launch vehicle, since they were all kinds of apologetic about kicking me off for the first orbital flight.”

“What—”

The Equestrian sense of timing showed that it was operating at maximum efficiency by the speakers on the observation platform taking that moment to pop loudly, followed by a very familiar voice that Dean Rusk had associated with an endless number of “Everything was going so well right up until—” events through his diplomatic career relating to Equestria.

“T-minus two minutes until launch,” announced Princess Luna. “All systems are nominal except for the pilot is still experiencing gaseous anomalies.”

“It was one burrito,” said Rainbow Dash in the background. “Just one. Anyway, Jayhawk 17 is ready for launch. Everything’s green and we should be back on the ground tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” asked Rusk to nobody in particular.

“It’s the Equatorial plane,” said Lieutenant Evans. “We’re far enough from the equator that one or two orbits would put the landing in Topeka, which would be a great surprise to my college alma mater, but rough on the pilots. They just have to stay up for a day while the Earth rotates around so they can land just about a hundred miles from here.”

Rusk could not think of anything productive to add, so he stood relatively silent until the rocket lit its engines and began to climb into the sky. It was a little slower than he expected, moderated by the Navy officer and his explanation.

“They launch almost straight up so an aborted launch allows the capsule to return to the launch site. That also keeps the velocity down so the aerodynamic forces are minimized until they get sufficiently high in near-vacuum to tilt over and begin gaining orbital velocity.”

“How many laws of physics does that break?” asked Rusk, shading his eyes to follow the dimming dot high in the sky.

“We view them as suggestions,” said Captain Sprocket. He floated a can of soda over to the Secretary, and one for the Navy officer. “Pegasus magic affects inertia and gravity. With practice, the pilot can extend that field over a certain percentage of the rocket, as long as they don’t affect the combustion chamber. It makes for a complex throttling process, but it will be interesting to see how much fuel is left in the third stage once they reach orbit.”



Writing the telegram back to the President was the most difficult task Dean Rusk had taken on since he was a simple staff officer in Burma. At least the chance of getting shot was lower. He crafted his document with extreme care, taking in the advice of his staff and Captain Sprocket, who was eager to assist from the Equestrian side. The young unicorn had a full set of printed documentation for each of the sixteen flights up to this point, which the US press had been treating as inconsequential or a bad case of ‘me-too’ from a third-world nation. Seriously, getting more than a column-inch on Equestrian activity was a rarity in the New York Times, which mostly covered the energetic Princess Cadence of the Crystal Empire and her teenaged daughter, the pop music sensation. With nothing specific to occupy his time, Rusk read each of the reports cover to cover, and questioned the helpful Captain Sprocket whenever he found a point that did not make sense. Which was often.

The day practically flew past, and Rusk occupied whatever free time he had by a leisurely wandering around the Canterlot Palace, playing a little mental game of Spot The Missing Masters among the paintings and trying to make sense of the statue garden. He was just returning to the comfortable cool bulk of the palace when his path was intercepted by a bulky Nocturne pegasus, who was armored up as a Royal Guard with the tinted visor down over his eyes. He must have been a veteran of the war because there were several… Well, more than several white spots indicating bullet wounds over what little of his body was exposed, and a tiny black and gold insignia attached to his steel gorget just under his chin, and below that both a small British George Cross and a US Marine Corps Medal.

“Secretary Rusk?” he asked in a shockingly good deep tenor that brought a shiver up Rusk’s back. “Princess Luna requests your presence in the Royal Study. If you will follow me, please.”

---

"Secretary Rusk," announced the dark pegasus as he opened the ornate door, which practically towered over them both with golden and silver inlays showing two alicorns at play.. "May I present Her Serene Highness, Princess Luna. Princess, this is--"

"The human who has the audacity to proclaim a visit unto my celestial orb without first begging permission from me," said Luna, quickly stuffing a few small objects underneath a shoebox on the table before standing up. There was little to indicate the diarch of the principality had just spent a whole day in orbit, landing a few hours ago. Her shortened mane was brushed back and glowing with unworldly magic power, leaving a few stars on the trimmed edges "Or more correctly, the minion of the arrogant man who hath made such a proclamation. Come in, Secretary. We would have words."

“I must extend the congratulations of my country before we get started,” said Rusk in what little he had actually planned on saying. “The radio announced your return several hours ago, and I’m certain a telegram of congratulations from our President will arrive shortly. I fear your return to the palace was more rapid than our bureaucracy.”

“That is inconsequential. Sit, please.” The alicorn gestured to the indicated chair again, which Rusk could not help but notice would put the two of them at the same height. Celestia always was just slightly below eye level when they met, although she had an ‘aura’ of sorts that made every person around her feel smaller by comparison. Luna, being quite shorter, was touchy about her height, but had a similar intimidating aura like she was about to leap forward into some sort of enthusiastic display of hand-shaking.

“What would you like to discuss, Your Highness,” said Rusk as he settled down in his chair and reached for the nearby teacup. At least one thing in Equestria was an absolute constant. Where there were alicorns, there was tea, and quite good at that.

“There is nothing to discuss,” said Luna, who left her own teacup untouched on the table by her side. “We have something for you to convey back to your liege. There is no debate, no discussion, and no compromise in this. It is a plain statement of fact about our moon.”

"There is little to say in that regard," started Rusk as he unconsciously braced himself in the comfortable chair. There was something even more intimidating about the lunar princess this afternoon, and she felt much nearer than he expected for being on the other side of the table. He was actually getting a sincere case of the jitters, as if the weight of the universe actually did rotate at her will, no matter how silly that sounded. Then again, she had been in space for the last full day. "President Kennedy was quite sincere about the United States' goal of landing a man upon the moon and--"

"Our moon," said Luna in short, clipped words..

"The moon is unclaimed territory," countered Rusk. "You cannot stop us from expanding our space exploration program into a landing. No government--"

"Our moon," said Luna with even more force. “Our essence was spread out across the surface of my celestial body for nearly a thousand of your years. There is scarcely a place in the entire solar system which could be claimed more. Our possession brings the surface area of Equestria to over fourteen-million square miles, far larger than any wholly terrestrial governmental area, and our claim predates your entire country by several multiples of your existence. Our moon.”

There were a lot of things Secretary Rusk could have said at that point, defending the right of the American space program to go wherever they wanted, but there was a cosmic weight on his shoulders and an equine goddess within arms-reach. He decided instead to stir his tea and take a sip before asking, “I presume you object to our plan of landing on the moon?”

“Of course not.” Luna blinked several times and leaned forward with the faint indications of a smile. “What a silly thought. No, you seem to be laboring under a misconception. We shall not stand in opposition of your country's noble goal of visiting our moon. In fact, we offer our full and complete cooperation in that regard." Luna swept the cardboard box on the table away to reveal several small plastic spaceships with model astronauts. "Provided we accompany any such expedition."