Once Upon a Time on Mars

Chapter 6

1986

Riverside, CA

The train slowed to a stop two days later. The lights of Los Angeles had come into view glowing against the sky several hours before, but except for the faint illumination around the train yard and nearby street lights, Riverside was still quite dark.

Abel stubbed his cigarette out on the iron wall of the coal car, then tossed it into the yard. He nodded to Foma. "Okay, nos bajamos aquí," he said. "We're getting out here."

"Bueno, suerte con todo," said Foma. "Good luck with everything."

"Igualmente," said Abel. "It's possible we could find work in Los Angeles too. Maybe we could meet up then."

"Maybe so."

"Adios," said Abel.

"Adios," said Foma. He watched as his travel companions walked off into the darkness, toward the fence that walled off the trainyard from the rest of town. He could see them scaling and descending the fence, but heard nothing. Then he couldn't see them anymore.

Foma huddled down against the coal car platform, to hide from any security guards who might be roaming around. The train moved started moving again, continuing the final leg of its journey west.

Baikonur Cosmodrome

November 7, 1991

Sasha and Sergei ate lunch and talked about the weather.

"No rain, no clouds, all clear. Everything looks like a go tomorrow," said Sergei.

"Indeed," Sasha said, "it appears things couldn't be nicer."

They drank coffee and discussed Dynamo soccer. Dynamo Moscow was one of their favorites. It had brought surprise victories on a goodwill tour of the West in 1945, just after the War's end, beating Arsenal, drawing Chelsea, and of course, crushing Cardiff City 10-1. Dynamo had also won the 1972 UEFA Cup.

"Good morning, comrades," chirped a familiar voice, interrupting their discussion of the Soviet Premier League. Major Gurevich made his way to their table.

"Good morning, Comrade Major Gurevich," Sergei said.

"Good morning, Anatoly," said Sasha. "You look well today."

"I am, thank you," said Gurevich, "but I'm afraid I can't say the same for you two."

"Why, do we look sick?" Sergei asked.

"No more than usual. But maybe you could play up any chronic conditions or symptoms to get out of this ridiculous mission," Guresvich said.

"We aren't going on any mission, as you well know," Sergei said. "Moscow explicitly says nobody's going on any mission until after we've completed it." At this Sasha smiled, trying not to laugh. "So it seems you're violating security protocols, Major."

"Pah," Gurevich almost spat into their coffee. "No amount of security can cover up this fiasco."

"And what fiasco is that, comrade?" asked Sasha.

"The so-called Soviet Space Shuttle," said Gurevich. "The entire west knows about it, and they also know it's a complete waste of resources and manpower. It's just another propaganda ploy to fool people into thinking we're advancing courageously into the future, rather than tumbling pathetically into the abyss."

"Soviet technology is not pathetic," Sergei said, "and I see no one around here who is tumbling pathetically into anything...yet. So please, comrade, don't beat around the bush, don't be shy, come out and say what's on your mind and we'll resume our lunch."

"This mission will accomplish nothing," Gurevich said, "and it's probably one of the most ludicrously unsafe Soviet vessels ever constructed, built by women who should have stayed home to nurse their noisome brats."

He wasn't done. "You'd be better off flying a paper airplane," he said. "This is a waste of time and money, a multi-million ruble firework that will do nothing and mean nothing to anybody. I look so much better than you do because I'm ecstatic not to have to strap myself onto it, unlike you poor souls," he concluded, turning to leave.

"I'm sure you look better to yourself than you could ever look to us," said Sergei, "but of course beauty is in the eye of the beholder."

Sasha laughed as Gurevich disappeared through the door.

New York City

1986

Lena slept till the late afternoon. She tried calling Amy and Lisa, but they weren't answering their phone.

She looked at the assignment sheets and syllabi for each of her classes, reviewing the material to remind herself what the most important topics were. She had courses in World History as well as advanced Mathematics.

She managed to write down some of the key study points when her stomach tightened up and her eyes welled with tears. She felt dizzy and nauseous. And where were Amy and Lisa? Whatever had happened to her last night, it had already started recurring like a nightmare. It would take quite some time to get over, she thought, and struggled to write down her study plan through her burning tears.

She was entering the week before final exams.

Baikonur Cosmodrome

November 8, 1991

On the last day of their training, Sasha and Sergei greeted the rest of the crew with chocolate cake and ice cream at dinner. While they ate, Sasha addressed them.

"Congratulations, Comrades," Sasha said, "on the successful completion of this most difficult task. Training for the maiden flight of a prototype vessel of any kind always involves delays, technical failures of some sort, and frequently moments of sheer terror. But thanks to your diligence and competence, we have avoided anything like that up to this point. It is clear that no one could better prepare our Buran Eleusis for her maiden flight than the Comrades who sit with me here tonight."

"It's true, it's true," Sergei said, "No one else could have brought us this far and with so few complications. I propose a toast," he said, producing a bottle of vodka from beneath his chair. "To our valued Comrades who, like the sun, never fail."

The Comrade Cosmonauts seconded the toast and drained their glasses.

Sasha happily continued. "Now, of course, everyone must join Sergei and myself for a little entertainment before we go to bed." He opened a door in cafeteria, and the other Cosmonauts peered through it with curiosity. There was a large video screen at the other end of the room, which was filled with chairs.

"Comrade, isn't that some kind of a projection room? Are we going to watch cartoons?" asked Katya.

"Oh, something far better than cartoons, Comrade Katya, and since you have been in space before and are familiar with our ways, I know you are joking with me. After all," Sasha said, "Cosmonauts are nothing if not steeped in tradition."

"This is so," Sergei said. "And Tanya, since you among all of us have never been to space, and have no experience of our pre-launch traditions, I wonder if you might have a guess as to what tradition it is which we're participating in here?"

"Of course, comrade," Tanya answered. "We're going to watch White Sun of the Desert, are we not?"

"That is correct," Sergei laughed. "We will watch Comrade Major Sukhov hunt down those damn Basmachis in order to save the seven wives in the harem."

"I can't wait," said Sasha, "and so I'm refilling everyone's glass so we can enjoy ourselves while the movie gets going. Vodka's good on ice cream."

White Sun of the Desert was one of the most popular Soviet films ever made. It follows the story of Major Sukhov, a Red Army officer fighting against the Muslim Basmachis during the Russian Civil War in Central Asia. As Sukhov crosses the desert on foot, he comes into conflict with Abdullah, a particularly vicious member of the Basmachis. Abdullah is a very dangerous bandit, who also has a harem with seven wives. Sukhov then becomes responsible for Abdullah's harem after Abdullah flees from the approaching Red Army.

"I love that movie," Katya said. "It's like I always savor the same fine wine whenever I watch it, but in a different way."

"With me, it's a fine vodka," said Sergei, "And White Sun never disappoints. Comrade Katya, please tell us, what is your favorite part of the movie?"

"I like the whole thing," Katya said. "But one part I enjoy in particular is when the harem wives tut-tut Sukhov for trying to emancipate them and teach them about women's liberation, and they decide to make him their husband instead."

"Oh, yes," laughed Nadya, "and he tells them that it's impossible so they have to stop, but they won't. And he finally has a dream that he actually is their husband, living in Moscow with his seven Central Asian wives in an apartment there! Oh, that's too funny!"

The cosmonauts laughed at the image.

"But Comrade Pilot," Tanya said, addressing Sasha, "Even though I have an idea, would you please explain what tradition is involved here?"

"Certainly, comrade Flight Engineer," Sasha responded. "Ever since the movie appeared, Soviet Cosmonauts have insisted that they get to watch White Sun of the Desert one more time. On the night before any manned launch, the Cosmonauts about to leave the earth will sit down and enjoy yet another viewing of the movie."

"I also think it's a wonderful movie," said Pavel, "but why do we watch that one in particular? Why don't we start watching something that actually has something to do with space flight, for example, like Forbidden Planet, rather than watching Major Sukhov fight backward nomads during the Civil War? What does that have to do with a successful voyage?"

"Comrade," Sergei said patiently, "first of all, here you are dealing with tradition which, like the East, is a delicate business. Good Cosmonauts, while imbued with fine critical and analytical abilities, never go against tradition, especially good ones. Secondly, if I knew the answer to your question I could tell you the exact personality traits of all the Cosmonauts who, for some reason, have ever enjoyed Comrade Sukhov's adventures with the women in the harem. We would have no need to ask anybody's opinions of this or any other movie.

"I've always chosen to enjoy the movie as a moral lesson on how to deal with alien peoples," Sergei continued, "It's instructive, in case we actually meet somebody from somewhere else."

The thought of guiding the Jovian or Martian equivalents of harem wives over interplanetary deserts crossed their minds.

The lights went down in the projection room and Sukhov appeared in the opening credits, making his way across the Turkmenistan desert to perform great deeds in the cause of Socialism yet again.

1986

Los Angeles

The train was approaching Union Station in downtown Los Angeles. Foma waited for a suitably dense mass of freight cars to surround them on the access tracks running parallel to his. The train was moving slowly, but it was still moving, and Foma knew the power of a train was still considerable even at two or three miles an hour. He found a good place and then carefully dismounted from the coal car.

He had to get to Midtown L.A., about four miles away, a good hour's walk. He crossed Alameda to Olvera street, the oldest part of Los Angeles. Olvera Street was part of the center of town from the time of the Spanish through to the Mexican and early American eras.

He watched some young people in traditional Mexican boots, scarves and sombreros perform a plaintive corrido while he rested his legs and stretched out. There were no clouds, it was a very cool morning, and it promised to stay clear all day.

Baikonur Cosmodrome

November 8, 1991

The day of the launch dawned clear, with near-total visibility and a complete absence of clouds. Sasha and Sergei were first in the cafeteria, who arrived early to enjoy their breakfast of boiled eggs and tea. They were followed by Nadya, Katya and Tanya, and lastly by Pavel.

Their conversation mentioned sports, movies, books and the ballet, but it did not mention the vessel awaiting them outside on the launch pad.

Sasha noticed Tanya reading over lists of items on her notepad, checklist after checklist covering the vessel she had been instrumental in designing. She stepped out of the room for a moment, then returned carrying a huge blue object which looked like a pig. He hoped she wasn't planning on bringing it with her. There was only room for six.

He walked over to her. Sergei joined them.

"Comrade Tanya," Sasha said, "Please tell me what that is."

"Comrade, it's clearly Gurevich," said Sergei, "It looks like he's coming with us after all." Sasha and Tanya laughed.

"It's a piñata, comrade," Tanya said. It's a party favor used in Mexico on all sorts of occasions, especially birthdays. It's filled with chocolates and candies, and our task is to take turns beating the pig until it breaks open and yields the candy to us. We shall use a club I shall give you for this purpose. Then all we have to do is gather the candies and eat them all up."

"We're six hungry Cosmonauts," Sergei said. "We'll make that candy disappear in no time."

"But there's a catch."

"Ah, of course, a catch," said Sergei. "What must we do to get to our candy, comrade?"

"You can only beat the pig while blindfolded," said Tanya, producing a red bandana. "That's what this is for."

"This looks quite fun," said Sergei, "but whose birthday is it?"

"Well, the Soviet Union turns 69 in about 7 weeks," Tanya said. "So that means everyone's getting a birthday party free of charge from the state."

"Excellent, comrade, you are helping us to get into the spirit of things," exclaimed Sasha. "Also, Katya is having a birthday in a couple of days. We can give her a preliminary party right now."

"Good idea, comrade," said Tanya.

She and Sergei tied strings to the piñata, then suspended it from the fixtures on the ceiling. They put papers and cups and a big tray for the candies on a nearby table. Then they were ready to celebrate, trying their luck at smashing the big blue pig to pieces and disappearing its innards.

To Be Continued.