Rocket Girls Read online

  “That is my kayuta. I let you use.”

  “Kayuta?”

  “My berth. It is a bit narrow, but there is no place like home, yes?”

  Yukari smiled. “That’d be great. Thank you.”

  The Kvant-1 module beyond the living space had formerly been a science lab but was now relegated to use as a toilet and storage. Beyond that was the port where the Soyuz would be docked.

  “We don’t have much time for chitchat, but there is a very important thing you need to know. I will get right to the point,” Oleg said, considerately describing how to use the toilet facilities.

  Yukari listened, appreciating the man’s straightforward demeanor.

  It turned out there was something like a large suction cup that handled both solid and liquid waste, sucking it away along with a quantity of air. It didn’t seem all that difficult to use. Much to Yukari’s relief, the station was equipped with female facilities.

  Oleg left, and alone at last, Yukari used the washbasin—the design required her to stick her hands and face into a sealed compartment—and gave a deep sigh of relief. It had been nine hours since she’d last washed, and she really needed it. Being here felt like arriving at a hotel after a long journey. A little cramped, but cozy all the same.

  Back in the living area she paused for a moment when she saw the two men seated there waiting for her. She would have come to a complete stop if she hadn’t already been floating in their direction. It was hard to freeze on the spot in zero gravity.

  So this was Commander Belyayev. Out of his suit, the bulky Russian looked more like a bear than a man. He had black hair, thick eyebrows, and sideburns on a square face. He was a bit older than Oleg—maybe in his mid-forties, she guessed.

  “Yukari Morita reporting,” she introduced herself. “Thanks for the help out there.”

  Nikolai glared at her for a moment and said simply, “Good morning.”

  Mir ran on Moscow time, which made it six in the morning.

  Yukari swallowed. Maybe he’s grumpy in the morning? Or maybe his blood pressure’s just low because he’s been up here so long.

  Oleg glanced between the two of them and cleared his throat. “Welcome, Yukari, to our humble abode. Here, have a seat. You will want to tuck your toes under the handle there on the floor. It is breakfast time. I hope our food is to your liking.”

  She sat down next to Oleg in the seat indicated. It felt odd having to bend her legs to fit on the chair, but once she was seated the arrangement felt much more like a conventional table, and the two cosmonauts much more like family.

  “Should be about ready!”

  Oleg lifted up the table lid, revealing an electric heating unit inside, with pockets for small cans and small tubes along an outer ring that were cool to the touch.

  She took the can offered to her and pulled the tab to open the lid, revealing a brownish, gloopy substance inside. Wincing, she took a whiff and was overpowered by an intense smell of garlic. “What the…”

  “Beef stroganoff!”

  She set the can aside and reached for one of the tubes, but when she opened the lid, the stench of garlic assailed her nostrils again.

  “And this is?”

  “Borscht! It is a Russian specialty.”

  Yukari shook her head. Considering the cost of transportation, this meal must have been insanely expensive. I can’t exactly refuse it, she thought, watching as Nikolai began working the gloop in the can with his spoon.

  A call from TsUP broke the uneasy silence in the cabin. Oleg answered. After speaking in Russian for a while, he turned to them and said, “Yukari, you have a call from Solomon mission control. I told them you were eating, but they insist.”

  “Oh, okay. I’ll talk to them,” she replied, hoping her relief wasn’t too obvious. She looked around for a moment, wondering where to set her spoon. Nikolai pointed toward a small magnetic plate on one corner of the table. Nodding, Yukari let her spoon clamp on to the magnet. She unhooked herself from the floor handle with her toes and floated up toward the ceiling, turning as she went to face the wireless communicator set into the wall.

  [ACT 2]

  “GET READY, WE’RE going live.”

  Mission control was packed with Japanese television reporters. The man speaking to Yukari was a producer chosen to represent the group. Director Nasuda wanted to take full advantage of the media, so when the press corps made a request, he bent over backward to accommodate them.

  “And here we go in three…two…one.”

  A burst of applause filled the control room as the grainy image from the Russian space station appeared on the main screen.

  Yukari waved at the wide-angle lens. “How’s it going down there? Can you see me?”

  “Hoi, you look good, Yukari!” Matsuri was her usual chipper self.

  “Everything up here is shipshape. We were right in the middle of a welcome party when you called.”

  “I hope you’re getting something to eat. You can’t work on an empty stomach.”

  “This Russian food though—gag me.”

  “What’s it like?”

  “You wouldn’t believe—”

  “Let me talk to her,” interrupted Kinoshita. “Yukari, I want to go over our plans for getting you home.”

  “Sure, okay.”

  “Right now we’re preparing the third ship for launch. Unfortunately, the orbiter won’t be able to reach Mir by relying on remote commands alone. We’re going to need to downlink data from Mir’s docking radar to mission control here in the Solomons and uplink that to the orbiter to guide it in. Understood?”

  “I think so. I don’t know what it’s going to take for Mir to do that though.”

  “Could you put their commander on?”

  “Sure, hang on.”

  Nikolai appeared on the screen and began discussing the situation with Kinoshita in English.

  The television producer leaned over and whispered to Director Nasuda. “This is no good. We need to get Yukari back on.”

  “Patience, patience,” replied Nasuda with a winning smile. “It’s not as though you have to break for commercial anytime soon.”

  “No, but if the audience loses interest—”

  “Look, we haven’t gotten a formal reply from the Russians yet, so we want to pave the way by getting in good with their commander. It’ll just take a minute.”

  “Let’s hope so. We’ve got Catching Up with the Moritas after this.”

  “I know, I know. Once we get this business out of the way, she’s yours for as long as you like.”

  When this producer had learned that Yukari would be visiting Mir, he had had an award-winning idea. Mir was equipped with a camera and the ability to send and receive video in real time. What better way to cover a Morita family reunion?

  He had set up the lines for the broadcast in record time, with links between Japan, the Solomon Islands, and TsUP mission control in Russia. In exchange for the use of their bandwidth, myriad television stations around the globe would gain the rights to air the program—it would be broadcast live throughout Asia, Africa, North America, Europe, and Australia.

  As Kinoshita wrapped up his conversation with Commander Belyayev, the producer whispered to Matsuri. “You’re up, Matsuri. Break a leg.”

  “Hoi. Yukari, we have a special surprise for you—a video conference with your parents. People all over the world will be watching.”

  “What?”

  The image split into two windows. Yukari’s father, Hiroshi Morita, appeared on the screen.

  “You’re looking well, Yukari.”

  “Uh, hi, Dad. Are you in the village?”

  “A camera crew came out and asked me to talk to you.”

  “Talk to me about what?”

  “Oh, you know, see how you’re feeling.”

  “Never better. What about you? You found a new chief to replace you yet? You are getting ready to go back to Japan, right?”

  “Things are moving.”

&nbs
p; “You promised.”

  “A promise is a promise, Yukari, but—”

  Hiroko Morita interrupted. The producer scrambled to get a third window showing Yukari’s mother on the screen. Hiroko was in the living room of their home in Yokohama. “After all this trouble to become an astronaut, what’s all the hurry to get home?”

  “I thought you were on my side, Mom.”

  “You’re just going to leave Matsuri there all by herself? Or did you plan on bringing her back to Japan with you?”

  Matsuri appeared in a fourth window. “Hoi, I want to fly on a few missions before I decide.”

  “There, you see?”

  “How do you like space, Yukari?” interrupted her father. “Is one trip going to be enough to get it out of your system?”

  “I haven’t had time to think about it. So far I’ve had my hands full with one emergency after another.”

  “And you pulled it off,” said her mother. “Doesn’t that make you feel proud?”

  “A little, maybe.”

  “They still need Hiroshi in the village—why not stick with the program a little longer, brush up your skills?”

  “But I want to go back to school! If I’m not back by next semester, they’re going to hold me back a grade!”

  “What’s one year?”

  “Aren’t you worried at all?”

  “About what?”

  “I was almost killed!”

  “There’s danger everywhere,” replied Hiroko. “Your dying in space is something I could come to terms with, but what if you were hit by a car in front of the house or you slipped on a bar of soap in the bathtub? It’s a meaningless death like that that worries me.”

  “Which is exactly the problem.”

  “Morimori died from a snakebite,” said Matsuri.

  “That’s right, she did, didn’t she,” said Hiroshi. “Such a waste…”

  “Who’s Morimori?” asked Yukari.

  “Morimori was my daughter with…Tongua, I think it was.”

  “Ladies and gentlemen, this man can’t even remember the names of the mothers of his children.”

  “Still can’t get enough, eh, Hiroshi?” said Hiroko.

  “It’s hard for a leopard to change his spots,” admitted her father.

  “Tankuku drowned in the river,” continued Matsuri. “Lapepe was kicked by a boar.”

  “And Kalengi ate some bad fish, as I recall.”

  “We lost a foreman at one of our construction sites,” offered Hiroko. “A crane fell over in the wind—his brains were all over the place.”

  “Wind can sneak up on you like that.”

  “The trouble is when it blows intermittently—once harmonic vibration kicks in, it’s all over.”

  “Hoi, you should have made an offering to the wind spirits.”

  “You’re pretty superstitious for an astronaut,” said Yukari.

  “Don’t be so hard on your sister, Yukari,” said Hiroshi. “Even in Japan they don’t break ground on a new building without a religious ceremony.”

  “Listen to your father, Yukari. Plenty of people take these things seriously.”

  “You two are certainly on the same page.”

  “We did know each other before the honeymoon, you know,” said Hiroshi.

  “But this is the first time we’ve talked in sixteen years,” added Hiroko.

  “Do you know anyone who’s died, Yukari?” asked Matsuri.

  “You really like this morbid stuff, don’t you, Matsuri?”

  “Hoi!”

  “Well, let’s see. There was a girl in school who got stung by a wasp.”

  “I remember that. Caused quite a stir at the PTA meeting,” said Hiroko.

  “We have wasps here too, don’t we, Matsuri?”

  And so it went. The producer, who had hoped for a teary reunion, was dumbfounded but powerless to stop it. The Morita family talked until Mir passed out of range.

  [ACT 3]

  YUKARI SPENT THE rest of the day answering calls from the media at Solomon mission control and throughout the world. She was in one interview or another right up until lights-out on Mir. By then she had been up more than twenty-four hours straight, and she was exhausted.

  Yukari went to Oleg’s kayuta and watched as he showed her how to use the sleeping bag. It made her feel like a bug in a cocoon, but in zero gravity there weren’t many options.

  “You looked very happy talking with your family,” said Oleg.

  Yukari’s head was the only part of her body protruding from the sleeping bag. “Hmm, you think so?” She cocked her head. “I didn’t feel particularly happy.”

  “But you were. During breakfast you were nervous. But after you spoke with family, you seem relaxed, at home.”

  “Really?”

  Yukari had felt frustrated, annoyed, even angry…but happy?

  The impromptu family reunion had caught her completely off guard. She had imagined their reunion would take place outside of customs at Narita Airport. Her father would be wearing a suit, and they would come walking out together, side by side, to find her mother waiting for them. There would be no teary spectacle, much to the dismay of the media thronging around them. The three of them would walk past the cameras and microphones with neither a nod nor a word, and they would go home together for the first time. And when they were home, they would talk about anything and everything.

  Instead, the reunion had taken place via four-way satellite tele-conference. On live television, they had started bickering back and forth almost as soon as they had opened their mouths, seemingly oblivious to the fact that Yukari was speaking to them from aboard a Russian space station. They had spoken their minds in front of the whole world.

  “So that’s what it feels like to be a family,” she said in Japanese. Then, in English, “Do you have a family, Oleg?”

  “Yes. Wife, but no children yet.”

  “Do you talk to your wife the way we talked today?”

  “Sometimes, yes.” Oleg seemed a little nervous.

  Yukari decided to ask something that had been bothering her. “What about Nikolai? Does he have a family?”

  “Wife and two children.”

  “He seems like he’s in a bad mood. Did you two get in a fight or something?”

  “With me? No. We get along well.”

  “Then with his family, maybe?”

  “Hard to say.”

  “You live together. How can you not know?”

  “We do our best not to intrude.”

  “Being up here for over half a year, don’t you ever feel…unfulfilled?”

  Oleg shook his head. “Only the chosen few can do our job. It is a great honor.”

  “I think I get it.” Oleg had given Yukari a stock answer, but it had made something click. “So there is something different about real astronauts. Were you in the military?”

  “Yes, I flew Sukhoi fighters in Khabarovsk. Nikolai was an upperclassman when I was at air force academy. Finally he was promoted to desk job, but he never gave up his dream of flying higher, faster. So he applied to be cosmonaut.”

  “A real go-getter.”

  “Nikolai is incredible man. But do not sell yourself short. You are real thing, Yukari.”

  “I don’t know…”

  “And so charming too.”

  “Thanks.” Yukari smiled. “You don’t know how happy you made me when you decided to let Tampopo dock.”

  “Do not mention it. No one knew how you must have felt better than we did.”

  “Thanks,” she said again.

  A wave of relief surged over her. She had washed up on the shores of a man-made island in space called Mir, and she was lucky to be here.

  Her anxiety had held sleep at bay, and with it gone, she felt her eyelids grow heavy.

  “Sorry, I can barely keep my eyes open.”

  “Sleep well, Yukari. Good night.” Before Oleg had turned from the kayuta, Yukari was already fast asleep.

  [ACT 4]


  “IT’S LIGHTS OUT on Mir,” announced Kinoshita, removing his headset.

  “Maybe we should do the same,” said Director Nasuda. “Good work, everyone.”

  Exhausted, the other controllers removed their headsets in unison, leaning back in their chairs and stretching as they did.

  Kinoshita left his workstation and approached Director Nasuda. “That just leaves the third ship. If we can pull this off, we’ve got a mission for the history books.”

  “That we do. Did you find the problem with the gyroscope on the main booster?”

  “One of the damper components wasn’t up to spec. We’ve already finished repairs.”

  “Good. Hopefully that’s the last trouble we’ll have from Matsuri’s ‘evil spirits.’” Director Nasuda let out a long sigh.

  Satsuki walked into the control room carrying a tray of coffee.

  “Just what the doctor ordered,” said Director Nasuda.

  “Without any medical telemetry, this doctor had too much free time on her hands,” said Satsuki.

  “It’s too bad. I’m sure you’d love to get some data of Yukari sleeping,” said Kinoshita.

  “She’s probably sleeping like a baby. I doubt the data would be all that interesting,” replied Satsuki. “Yukari really did great today though. She has courage and focus in spades.”

  “With a family like hers, she needs it.”

  “Do you think she’ll really quit after this?” asked Director Nasuda, his face pained. “Yukari has rare talent. I don’t know what she sees in going back to high school.”

  “She wants a normal life,” said Kinoshita. “Two parents, friends that treat her like everyone else.”

  “She said as much, didn’t she,” Director Nasuda conceded. Kinoshita smirked. “Normal may be harder for her than she thinks.”

  “Normal is overrated. Do you know how many kids these days are raised by single parents?”

  “But it’s important for her,” Satsuki said. “We have to support her decision.”

  “You’re right, of course,” Director Nasuda said, fighting back a yawn. “I think I’m going to lie down. Any beds around here?”