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“What is word, question?”
We glance at each other, trying to figure out which of us he’s talking to. The downside of finally having the full crew back is that sometimes, it can get…a little noisy. When there’s multiple of us in a room, talking both amongst ourselves and over each other, it can be hard to tell exactly who said what- for Rocky and for us.
And today’s activity is…probably going to be a little more chaotic than usual.
Today, we’ve got almost a full house (Yáo, Ilyukhina, Rocky, and me) all gathered around what Ilyukhina swears is an excellent way to teach our alien friend about human culture- a handmade game of Monopoly. It’s pretty impressive, actually. There’s a 3D printed board and tokens, a pair of dice that I’m pretty sure Ilyukhina swiped from Yáo’s personal items, and construction-paper money that she’d made using a handcarved rubber stamp. She’d even fashioned a small, remote-control robot with a tiny grabber arm so that Rocky can play too.
(We…should probably be using that for more scientific purposes. Note to self: remind Rocky about that later).
“Perhaps I need to be giving you more work,” Yáo had commented, when Ilyukhina had proudly unveiled her creation. She stuck her tongue out at him.
“We have almost two weeks to Adrian. This took me less than half day.”
“Hmm.”
She grinned, a mischievous twinkle in her eye. “What’s the matter, Commander? Afraid you’ll lose?”
It’s her favorite way to goad him, and Yáo knows it. I’m pretty sure he doesn’t even really fall for it anymore, just plays along to make her happy. I’d think it was sweet if it didn’t somehow end up with me being roped into her shenanigans. As a middle school teacher, I avoid Monopoly like the plague- and yet somehow, here I am, doling out play money to two astronauts and an alien.
How the hell did I get here?
“Which word?” Yáo asks, bringing me back to the present. Rocky taps on his bubble, pointing at Ilyukhina.
“Olesya say word I do not know. Want to be what, question?”
Ilyukhina blinks, momentarily confused, then suddenly snaps her fingers in understanding. “Oh! I said I want to be dog!” She picks up the little token and shows it to Rocky. “You mean this, no?”
“Yes. What is word, question?”
Ilyukhina and Yáo both glance at me, wordlessly giving me the floor. Since I’d been the first to learn it, English-to-Eridian translation usually falls to me. I rub my temples, trying to think of how to do this.
“Uh…a dog is a kind of Earth animal. One that a lot of humans keep as pets.”
“What that word, question?”
“Pets? It means a kind of animal you keep in the house, for companionship and stuff.”
“Understand. We have on Erid too. Eridian word is ____. But no Eridian word for Earth animals.”
Which makes sense on both counts. I already knew (based on Rocky’s food) that they had to have some source of meat, so animal domestication isn’t too much of a stretch. But of course, with a completely different environment, their animals are going to be different than ours.
I grab the computer. Time to update the dictionary. “Okay. You gonna make a word up?”
“Yes. You say when ready.”
We pause for a few minutes to enter the new words into the computer. Then, at Yáo’s suggestion, we go over a few more Earth animals. That takes significantly longer (though Rocky gets the concept, clarifying which animals are food and which are friends is definitely a trial) but we finally get through it.
Aaannnddd then we have to pause to go over all the words needed for Monopoly. At least we’re expanding our vocabulary.
“What is dog like?” Rocky asks, a few turns in. I scrunch up my brow, trying to concentrate on both that and watching Ilyukhina exchange money from the bank. I’m pretty sure she’s cheating, but I haven’t been able to prove it yet.
“It, uh…well, that’s kinda hard to explain. There’s a lot of kinds of dogs. And different kinds are bred to do different things, so they all look…different.”
“No understand.”
“They are mammals, like humans,” Yáo supplies, deftly plucking an extra hundred from Ilyukhina’s hand. He replaces it in the bank and picks up her little token, showing it to Rocky. “Although they walk on four legs, and have a tail where we have none, they do have many similar features to us. See here. Two eyes, two ears, sharp teeth, and a nose. But those features can come in different shapes, depending on what they use them for.”
“Right,” I take back over. I’m a science teacher and a biologist, this is literally my job. “Like there’s dogs whose job it is to find things by smell, so they have lots of extra skin on their faces to trap smells. And there are dogs whose are meant to rescue people out in the snow, so they have a ton of extra fur.”
“What is last word, question?”
“Fur? It is like hair, but grows all over body!” Ilyukhina chirps. “Very soft. Nice to touch.” Perhaps thinking Yáo isn’t looking, she swipes another bill from the bank. “I actually have dog of my own, you know. Back on Earth.”
Yáo takes the bill back and places Ilyukhina’s token on the jail space. “You have a photo of your dog, do you not, Olesya? Why don’t you show Rocky and Ryland?”
Ilyukhina (apparently not bothered in the slightest by her incarceration) perks up. “да! Wait here.”
She pops up and scrambles off into the ship, returning a moment later with a Polaroid photograph in a protective sheet. Carefully, she presses it up to Rocky’s ball, covering the back with her hand to make it easier for him to ‘see’.
“This is my dog! I found her in trash can when she was only teeny-tiny baby, and now she is almost two years old. Her name in English is Destroyer of Asteroids.”
I blink. “You named your dog Asteroid Destroyer?”
Ilyukhina grins and turns the picture to me. “I did! Is it not epic name?”
“It is epic name,” Rocky agrees. I shake my head, leaning over to look at the picture.
“My kids would love it. They’d probably be repeating it for- ohmygodshe’sadorable.”
Ilyukhina preens. “I know.”
The photo is of a smiley-looking black dog, with a fluffy white chest and a streak of white fur going from her forehead to her nose. She’s leaping up towards the camera, tail moving so fast it’s practically a blur. Probably as playful and energetic as her master. I can imagine Ilyukhina wrestling with this dog, sneaking her table scraps, coming home from a long work trip and throwing her arms wide for her to barrel into. She’d probably let the dog tackle her to the ground and lick her all over, laughing the entire time.
The bottom of the photo has a caption I can’t read (not only is it written in Russian, but Ilyukhina’s handwriting is terrible. I mean, seriously, it’s worse than Annie Shapiro’s- and no disrespect to Annie’s memory, but that’s really saying something). Doodling, however, is a universal language. Along the top of the photo, Ilyukhina’s drawn a myriad of tiny stars and moons and galaxies. There’s even a comet streaking by above the fuzzy black head, making it almost look like the pup is gazing up at the sky.
Except she isn’t, I realize, as I take another look at her big brown eyes and notice a figure that must surely be the photo-taker- must surely be Ilyukhina- reflected in them. She’s looking up at something, yes, but it isn’t the sky. She couldn’t care less about what’s going on in the sky. She has what she wants right there, just behind the camera.
A sting of sadness goes through my heart. I force it down and flash my friend a smile.
“Yep, I love dogs. What’d you think, Rocky?”
“Strange. But seems good.” He pauses, then asks, “What is purpose, question?”
Ilyukhina tilts her head. “Excuse me?”
“Grace say different dog have different purpose. What is purpose of Destroyer of Asteroids, question?”
(Huh. We must have those words entered already. Handy, I guess.)
Ilyukhina laughs. “No purpose, really! Just…companionship, I suppose. When you are single like me, it is nice having someone to care for. Someone come home to, who’s always happy to see you, who…who makes you smile on bad day.” She runs her fingers along the photo, her smile fading into something more…wistful. Something more sad. “At night, when my bed is cold and I am lonely, she will crawl under covers and snuggle in close. Then I am not lonely anymore. She is very good companion.”
Rocky is quiet for a moment. Then, more softly, he asks: “You miss dog, question?”
Ilyukhina sighs and nods, nibbling on the inside of her cheek the way she sometimes does when she’s stressed. “Yes, very much. I love her dearly. She was only thing that made me think of staying on Earth.” She briefly raises the picture to her lips, pressing a little kiss to her pup’s photographic paw. “I think if I could split myself in two and leave one half behind with my little dog, I would have done it in a heartbeat. Never mind the pain.”
Quickly, almost imperceptibly, she swipes a hand across her eyes. Then she’s back to smiling, though it’s a little less bright than usual. “But I cannot, and Earth needs me here. So, I entrust my dog into hands of Yáo’s spouse, and here I am!”
I blink and turn to Yáo. “Wait, what? You’re married?”
Ilyukhina grins at me, a little bit of her usual sparkle coming back. “Oh, you did not know? He does like to be coy.” She nudges Yáo with her elbow. “Go on, tell him.”
Yáo rolls his eyes. Perhaps to cheer Ilyukhina up, however, he indulges her. “Yes, I am married. But I’m not surprised that you didn’t know, although I believe Ms. Stratt did. I am…discreet about my private life.”
I laugh. “Yeah, I guess so. How long have you two been together?”
“Technically, he and I met many years ago, back when he first joined the military. But we only just got married very recently.” He pulls a small object- a golden wedding band- out of his pocket and turns it in his fingers. “Still, marriage was only a formality. Min is…my other half. Everything I lack, he seems to embody. He is extroverted, artistic, easygoing, and more- and he loves me just as much as I love him. I knew practically the moment we met that I would spend the rest of my life with him, married or not.”
Ilyukhina smirks. “He is younger, and Yáo was his commander at the time. Very scandalous.”
Yáo gives her a look. “He is only four years younger and you know that.”
“Still younger!” she retorts. “In any case, he is good man. I liked him a great deal when I met him, and my sweet doggy absolutely adores him. He has taken very good care of her while we sleep, I am sure.”
“He has,” Yáo says. Though he isn’t particularly big on affection, he does reach out and briefly cover her hand with his. Ilyukhina’s lip quivers, and Yáo squeezes her hand.
“He will always take very good care of her, Olesya. They will take very good care of each other.”
~
That day marks the very first interstellar game of Monopoly (which we did get to eventually, thank you very much). Now that’s something to celebrate. They’ll probably make it a holiday back on Earth.
It’s also the very first time I’ve ever seen Olesya Ilyukhina cry.
The first thing that strikes me when I stumble onto the scene- Ilyukhina curled up in Yao’s lap, huddled into a ball and muffling soft sobs into her own arms- is just how small she looks. Ilyukhina isn’t tall by any stretch (barely 5”2, if I remember right- actually shorter than some of my kids) but her boisterous personality has always made her seem almost…larger than life. But here, it almost seems like the grief is crushing her- like the earth wrapped around a chunk of carbon, squeezing her into something tiny and raw and nearly unrecognizable. Yáo seems to be holding her together as she cries, occasionally stroking her hair but not saying a word. Just existing as a solid presence at her side, supporting her, sheltering her as she vents her pain into the emptiness of the space.
I hesitate in the dormitory doorway (where I’d wandered after being relieved of Rocky sleep-watching duty), unsure of what to do . It’s not that I can’t handle crying (I taught teens and pre-teens, I’ve seen more than my fair share of tears), but this is Olesya. Spunky, chaotic, Russian-to-the-core Olesya, whose preferred coping methods are booze, grim humor, and more booze. She’s definitely not the type for a public crying jag, and I’m not sure if she’ll want me to see her like this.
Thankfully, Yáo catches sight of me and solves the problem with a quick, inviting jerk of his chin. I decide to listen. If she trusts him enough to be here, I have to think she trusts him enough to tell me whether to stay or leave.
Ilyukhina briefly looks up at me as I sink down into the end of her bunk, sniffling. “I- sorry, sorry, I-”
“Hey, hey. Don’t be sorry.” Before I can second-guess myself, I reach out to hug her too. It’s a little awkward- I basically have to climb into Yáo’s lap to avoid making a pretzel out of our arms, and I nearly elbow him in the face in the process- but we manage. I wrap Olesya in my arms once I’m settled and she buries her face against me to muffle a little whimper.
“It’s okay,” I say, trying not to let the quaver in my voice show. Okay, yes, I said I can handle tears. I thought I could. Guess when it comes to my friends, I’m a sympathetic crier. “Let it out. We got you. We got you.”
She tangles her fingers in my t-shirt (maybe trying to anchor herself, or maybe just for something to do with her hands) and sobs into my chest. Yáo runs a hand gently along her forehead, brushing a lock of sweaty hair away. The other, he rests on my shoulder. I glance over at him and he gives me a quick nod- subtle, yes, but Yáo does very little that doesn’t carry gravity. You can be strong, that nod says. There will be times when we all need each other, and Olesya needs us now.
I nod back, giving my own eyes a quick swipe. I can do this. My crewmate- my friend- needs me. The least I can do is be there for her.
Olesya cries in our arms for nearly an hour and a half. I hold her tight and comfort her as best I can. Yáo sits quietly at our sides, letting us both lean on him until she’s tired herself out.
I summon Armando for a cup of water once it seems like the tears have dried for now. Ilyukhina takes it with a murmur of thanks. I half expect her to make a joke about wanting vodka instead, but she simply lays her head against Yáo’s shoulder and sips it quietly.
“Was that…about your dog?” I ask, once we’ve sat in silence for just long enough to be awkward. “Uh- if you want to talk about it! You don’t have to talk about it, obviously, just, you know…if you wanted to, I guess.”
Ilyukhina laughs softly. “Nearly two years of training together and four in space, and you still manage to make it weird sometimes. You are better with cells than people, aren’t you?”
“…yeah,” I admit. “At least, grown-up people.”
She chuckles again. “That’s what we get for sending middle school teacher to space, I guess.”
“Yeah. I mean, I can give you a sticker if that’ll make you feel better.”
“I would absolutely take sticker. Gold star, nothing less.”
We both laugh at that, a little longer this time. At least I can make her laugh with my stupidity.
“I was upset about my dog, yes,” she admits after a moment, fidgeting with the cup in her hands. “Our conversation today made me think of her, and those are not easy thoughts to have.”
I resettle myself into a cross-legged spot on the bunk (Yáo’s great and all, but now Ilyukhina’s feeling better, I’m ready to be out of the cuddle-puddle) and offer her my hand. “You really miss her, huh?”
She nods, wrapping her fingers around mine. “Very, very much. Leaving her was hardest thing I have ever done, even worse than saying goodbye to my friends and family.”
“Really?”
“Yes. Don’t get me wrong, saying goodbye to my loved ones was not easy. My mama, she begged me to change my mind, right up until last goodbye. My brothers could not even face launch. My papa, he kissed my head and told me how proud I make him- but I know he wept once I turned my back. All that was very, very hard.” Her fingers tremble slightly in mine. “But my family, they understand that Sun is dying. They will grieve their daughter, yes, but they know what she dies for. You cannot explain that to dog.”
Olesya takes a shaky breath. Yáo gives her a small squeeze and she presses closer to him. “Before launch, I held her in my arms all night long. I kissed her little head, told her how much I loved her, how sorry I was that I must leave her. She- she did not understand why I cried. She did not understand why she could not kiss my tears better this time.”
She sniffles. “How could I tell her why I am so sad? She misses me terribly even when I go to bathroom at night, let alone when I go away for work. How…how could I make her understand that this time, when I leave, I will not come home?”
“I don’t know,” I admit. And I really don’t. That dog will probably wait for Olesya for the rest of her life, perking up her ears every time the front door opens and wagging her tail in anticipation of a voice that will never come. “I wish I did. I…would’ve told my kids that.”
Ilyukhina gives me a small, sad smile. “Now that, I am grateful I did not have to do. I would have been puddle.”
“Yeah, I…definitely was.” (Okay, that’s…kind of a lie. I actually don’t remember saying goodbye to my kids- or even if I’d gotten to. I wish I could, even if it was the hardest thing I’d ever done in my life. But I can’t imagine not being a mess when I said goodbye, so I decide not to clarify.)
“Oh, I’m sure you were,” Olesya says, a bit of her signature sparkle coming back to her expression. “You are puppy-dog man. Big softie.”
“Hey!”
She laughs softly and butts her head against my shoulder. “It’s true! Tell him, Yáo.”
“I am not getting in the middle of you two.”
“Technically, you are already in middle.”
“...true. In that case, she is right.”
“Traitor!” I complain, as Ilyukhina laughs again. Yáo hums and gives her shoulder a pat.
“Do you know what I told my family when I left, Olesya?”
She tilts her head. “What?”
“When they want to see me, they must simply go outside and look to the stars. That is where they will find me. And perhaps one day, I will happen to look back at the same time, and we will see each other again.”
He gives her a small smile. “And now, your dog is a part of that family. They will go outside and look together.”
Tears shine in Olesya’s eyes again- but these, more bittersweet. She looks to the nearest window.
“It has been long time on Earth. I do not even know if she is still alive.”
“What, thirteen years?” I squeeze her hand. “Modern technology, that’s nothing. She’s an old lady dog, for sure, but I’d bet my paycheck she’s still out there.”
She snorts. “We do not get paycheck for this mission.”
“Point still stands.”
Olesya smiles softly, her eyes still fixed on the window. Not far off, a comet drifts by- just like the one she’d drawn on the photo of her dog.
“Okay. I believe you, Grace.” She lets go of my hand and gives the stars a little wave.
“Hello, my Умница. I hope you are looking to me, too.”
~
A solar system away, a man walks through a park with his dog. They walk slower than they used to- neither are as young as they once were- but the man still finds a stick to throw, and the dog still bounds eagerly ahead to fetch it. She is greying around the muzzle, yes, but he suspects she will never tire of her game of fetch.
Their road together has not been easy. They both carry a heavy pain, one that will likely weigh on the for the rest of their days. And in light of the circumstances, their grief was not always private. No one was exactly surprised that the lifetime provisions Eva Stratt had ordered be given to the families of the Hail Mary crew were challenged when she was no longer…available to enforce them, but it was still a controversy that the man wanted little part of. The eyes of his country would already be on him for the rest of his life as it was, and not all of those eyes would be kind. But for the sake of the other families (and the children who stood to receive scholarships in lieu of a family that Dr. Grace didn’t have), he and his little friend would endure.
(After all, nothing sways the media like a good dog story.)
As time went by, they continued to endure together. Even now (years later, when their wounds are long since scarred over), he finds himself taking comfort in her presence. She sleeps at the foot of his bed, her soft body warming his toes (Li-Jie always complained about his cold feet). He keeps her fur shiny, gives her pills for her joints and reminds her that he does not like them any better than she does, and always remembers her little treat with breakfast. She’d trained him well, that one.
And at nights (they always walk at night), as they stroll the park, they stop together and look up at the stars.