Once Upon a Time on Mars, Chapter 8
Edits and Updates:
- In Chapter 7, Soviet Vice-Consul Shilyapin and Colonel Lavrov do not say "Death to Spies," but rather, "Death to Traitors!"
- Throughout the story, the unpopular Air Force Major whom Sasha and Sergei dislike, who accosts them in the cafeteria to insult the Buran program, and whom Lavrov is ordered to investigate, is actually named Major Svinyi, not "Gureshev."
Los Angeles 1986
Foma walked the few blocks from Macarthur Park, then up a short path to a yellow house, and knocked on the door.
The door opened slightly, held by a small chain. A woman inside looked at Foma.
"Hi," he said. "It's me."
The woman undid the chain and opened the door. "Well, hi, Fomka, how've you been?"
He entered the house and they embraced.
"Alicia, I'm fine, what's going on?" asked Foma.
"Rick took Svyeta and hasn't called. Her school says she hasn't been there since I called you. So I don't know what's going on now."
"Where do you think he went?"
"He's got a sister who lives in Torrance. But she hangs up on me when I call."
"What's her name?"
"Augusta something."
"Do you know her address?"
"No. But Rick does."
"And what do you want me to do?"
"Find Svyeta and bring her back to me."
"Okay."
"And take this," Alicia said, handing him a paper bag.
"What is it?"
"Your lunch. Tacos and some other stuff. You can eat it in the car."
He took the bag. "Thanks."
"Sure."
"I'll call you when I find out anything," he said.
"Okay."
"See you later," he said.
"Okay," said Alicia. He left and she closed the door.
Baikonur Cosmodrome 1991
"Continuing pre-launch check," said Tanya.
Sasha said, "I did'nt see Comrade Major Svinyi anywhere today, not in the control room, nor at any point between control and the space dock. He appeared to be absent."
"I hadn't noticed," said Sergei, who had probably quite happily noticed.
Sasha called over the intercom. Control, where's Comrade Major Svinyi? Hasn't he assumed the duties of assistant director today?" asked Sasha.
"He's indisposed," came the reply.
Sergei looked at Sasha. It was clear he had to try hard not to laugh.
"Where is he? Is he sick?" asked Sergei.
"He's presently unavailable," said control.
Sergei broke out laughing, and Sasha patiently formed his answer.
"Control," said Sasha, "Comrade Svinyi is expected to direct the pre-launch of the Soviet shuttle Buran with us, and to help launch us into space in a matter of hours. Should someone remind him of this? Where is he?"
"He can't talk to us right now."
Sergei and the other cosmonauts roared with laughter at this.
"He's drunk, isn't he?" howled Sergei with glee. "He's passed out over a bottle of vodka somewhere and can't be bothered to help launch our bright, shiny new Soviet Space Shuttle...!"
"Please, Comrade Control," said Sasha, "just tell us, where is Comrade Svinyi?"
There was a pause before control answered. "He's under arrest. "
The cosmonauts did not respond for a moment. Svinyi was unpopular, but he was also an officer in the Soviet Air Force. Such people were not arrested every day. At least, not nowadays.
Sergei said, "That guy. What's he done now?"
"I'm not sure, comrade," answered Control, "but the arresting officers were very clear it involved certain charges like crimes against the people, assault, and corruption."
"Well, to blazes with him then," said Sergei. "I always knew he was bad news. More oxygen for the rest of us."
"But Comrade Svinyi is a decorated pilot!" said Pyotr. "Isn't this some kind of an outrage? Some kind of politically motivated attack?"
"If you want to talk politics, let's talk politics," said Sergei. "But Svinyi's never done anything but insult the government. He always rode on his laurels, but never had a good word for anyone else. I don't trust him far enough to open a can of sardines, let alone launch the first Soviet Shuttle into space. He's the last person who should talk about politics, because he's never cared about anything but himself."
"We can talk about it later when we're in orbit," said Sasha. "This is all just so much fishwrap until we're safely up. We'll divide up the comrade's responsibilities among ourselves."
"It's launch minus two hours," said Control.
"Thank you, Control, very good" said Sasha.
"Continuing pre-launch check," said Tanya.
Los Angeles 1986
Foma dialed the phone.
"Hello?" answered a voice.
"Hi, this is Foma Vladimirovich, I'm Svyeta's father. Please let me speak to her."
"She's...she's...are you sure you're her father? I thought you were stuck somewhere out in Texas or someplace."
"Yes, I'm sure, now please let me talk to her."
"I can't, she's not here."
"Where is she? When will she be back?"
"She's at church school. I've been sending her there to get away from that crazy mother of hers."
"Well, we want her back, so tell me where you are and I'll come get her."
"Are you sure that's wise? Her mother's crazy. You know she's a Messican, and when those people..."
"Yes, I'm sure! Now tell me where I can pick up my kid!"
"We're in Torrance, at the southeast corner of Del Amo and Madrona."
"What's the address?"
"You'll know it when you get here. There's nothing else around here."
"Just have Svyeta wait there for me when she gets back," said Foma. "That's my daughter Svyeta Fomichna Guadalupe you have there, by the way, named after her grandmother, who was Mexican-American and proud of it. So you should probably shut the fug up about crazy Messicans and their mothers."
Foma hung up the phone.
New York 1986
Lavrov, charged by the Vice-Consul with investigating Svinyi, picked up his quarry in Central Park, when Svinyi left the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Lavrov followed him along Fifth Avenue on foot for a few blocks until they reached Ninetieth avenue. Then Svinyi entered a restaurant. A minute later, Lavrov followed him in.
There were a few empty tables left inside, but it was close to noon and people were arriving for lunch. Svinyi sat down with two other men.
Lavrov spoke to a woman at Reception and persuaded her to get him at a small table near Svinyi's. He sat with his back to the men. They were reflected in a large mirror facing Lavrov; not enough for him to read their lips but he could see them stand up or sit down, or exchange items across the table.
Svinyi and the men began talking, and ordered more than one round of drinks. Svinyi spoke louder than the others, but Lavrov could hear them speak plainly enough.
"Did you bring it?" Asked Svinyi.
"Yes," answered one of the men, a shorter one with black hair.
"Let me see it," said Svinyi. They handed him a briefcase.
Svinyi rummaged through the case. It looked like he was counting something. In a couple of minutes he closed the briefcase and placed it on the chair beside him. He then slid a manila folder across the table to his companions.
Then he asked them, "Did you meet your Russian girls?".
"Yeah," said the short one. "Thanks for telling us about them. They're a lot of fun. Or at least, we think so. They don't talk much, because they haven't exactly woken up yet since last night."
"Lots of beer," said the short one's companion. "Lots of beer, and whiskey, and stuff."
"I'm sure," said Svinyi. "You should drop them back off at their school before people start asking questions. I hate questions," he said.
"But we just got them yesterday," said the short one.
"Personally, I don't care what you do," said Svinyi, "but if you want to keep doing business with me, you need to get rid of them before questions are raised."
"Yeah, sure, we'll drop them off today," said the other one. "When do you want to meet again?"
"I'll let you know," said Svinyi. He stood and left without saying anything else.
Lavrov watched Svinyi in the mirror, as he walked out of the restaurant.
Torrance 1986
Foma pulled up to the curb by a solitary house in a dirt lot, stopped the car and got out. Pelón pulled up behind him and got out too.
"No other place around, and that's Madrona we just passed," said Foma. "This must be the place. ¿Listo?"
"Sí, hombre," said Pelón.
"Vámonos," said Foma.
They walked up the path to the house. This was the only structure on what appeared to be an entirely unpaved, city block's worth of land. The were no other structures, and no plants, only dirt.
Foma knocked on the door.
It opened slowly. An old woman peered out at them. "Who are you?" she said.
"I'm Foma, and I'm here for Svyeta. Where...?"
"Hi, Daddy!" sang a voice from behind the door. It opened and a young girl ran out from behind the old woman to embrace Foma. She had blonde hair tied up in red ribbons, and eyes the color of the sky.
"Okay, Augusta, I'm going with Foma now," she said happily to the old woman.
"Are you sure you're going to be alright?" asked the old woman.
"Yeah, it's fine. Foma's my daddy!" said Svyeta, who hugged him again. "I'm going with him now. 'Bye!"
She grabbed Foma's hand. "Come on," she said, "let's go. This place is as dull as dirt."
The three of them walked back to the cars. "Hi, Pelón," said Svyeta, "how are you doing?"
"Great, Svyeta, it's good to see you again," said Pelón.
"You, too," said Svyeta.
"Thanks Pelón, that was easier than..." began Foma.
"Come on, let's go!" said Svyeta. "I'm going to go crazy if we sit around here one more second!"
"Right! We're going!" agreed Foma. He opened the door for Svyeta who jumped on the seat and strapped on her seat belt, then closed the door.
"So Pelón, thanks, that was a lot easier than I thought it would be," said Foma.
"No problem, amigo," said Pelón. "But I think we didn't have anything to worry about. Svyeta had everything under control the whole time!"
Pelón got in his car. "So I'll see you later. Say hi to Alicia for me."
"I will," said Foma. He got in the car, fastened his seat belt and followed Pelón back toward the freeway.
"So, how are you doing, really?" asked Foma. "You're not hurt or anything?"
"No," said Svyeta. "They're just really boring people. I've never been so bored in my entire life. I wanted to scream, I was so bored."
"Why were you bored?"
"Because," said Svyeta, "Augusta is a Jesus freak who forces Rick to kneel before God every second of every day he's in the same house with her. And she tried that with me too, and sent me to that Christian school every day. But I just did my Christian lessons and wrote out my Christian prayers, and didn't say anything till they stopped talking about Jesus. I figure if you want to talk about me, fine, or if you want to talk about Jesus, fine, but don't talk about the both of us in the same breath.
"God, I was so bored I thought I was gonna faint!"
"So you were glad to see us, huh?" asked Foma.
Svyeta smiled. "Well, of course I was! Pelón es tío muy bueno, el sabe muchas cosas y me da dulces en mis cumpleaños. Pelón is a really neat guy, he's knows lots of stuff and he gives me candy on my birthday. Plus I was so bored I was gonna fall asleep for a year if I spent another second in that house. Plus it's good to see you again!"
"Well, Svyetochka, it's good to see you again too. And your Spanish is excellent, by the way," said Foma.
"Si, yo hablo español muy bien," said Svyeta. "I speak Spanish very well. I speak it with Mom."
"How's your Russian?"
"I speak that with Granma, so I do alright."
"So it's pretty good, huh?"
"Yeah, pretty good. So, Augusta says you're my dad."
"Yes, I told her that."
"My real dad?" asked Svyeta, "or just the dad that happened to be living with my mom when I was born?"
Foma laughed. "There's no real difference. I'm the guy who helped take care of you from when you were a baby, and I'm the guy whose mom your mom sends you to to have fun at Christmas.
"So, if my mom is your Grandma, then I must be your dad."
"Ha, ha," said Svyeta. "There are worse dads, I suppose."
"Yeah," said Foma, "there are."
"Anyway," said Svyeta, "Mom says if you weren't such a proud guy, you'd realize that nothing was going on at all where you are, and you'd come back to us here."
"I'm surprised she'd say something like that to you."
"She says that and more. Mostly, how moving out there is the dumbest thing you've ever done, and you'll regret ever moving out that way when I grow up."
"But I had to move."
"She doesn't see it that way. And I have to say I tend to agree with her."
"Do you really?" asked Foma. "Why?"
"Because you can do whatever you want, whatever it is, here, just as much as you can there. Or moreso, because everything there is backward compared to LA."
"Backward?"
"Yeah, LA is light years beyond anywhere in this country, except maybe New York, for everything. And you're stuck somewhere in between both of those places."
"Stuck?"
"You say you can't be with us because you're doing your thing out there. But the fact is that out there, you can't really do your thing because you're not with us. And we're never moving out there, so as long you're out there, you can never be with us. And if you're not with us, you can't really do your thing. So yeah, you're stuck."
Foma laughed. "When you put it that way, yeah, I guess I'm stuck. Question is, how do I get unstuck?"
"Tell mom you're sorry and beg her to take you back. I'll stay out of the way, she'll make up her mind to take you back in and then you come back."
"Just like that, huh?"
"Yeah, just like that."
Foma had no answer for that. They kept driving back toward Mid-Town.
Baikonur Cosmodrome 1991
Katya and Tanya returned to their seats and strapped in. They both gave the thumbs up sign to Sasha.
"Control, we're at launch minus sixty, all capsule systems are go," Sasha said.
"Acknowledged, Buran, all external systems are go," said Control. Then: "Launch minus 30 seconds and counting."
After having checked and re-checked every single system the manned capsule would use for the duration of their space flight, the crew now waited for the few seconds till liftoff.
The massive Energia rocket to which Buran was strapped ignited, and their capsule rocked gently up and down. The Energia was still anchored to the gantry, but its moorings were soon detached from it by percussion caps. The Buran, essentially the payload of the Energia rocket, with no liftoff engines of its own, was completely dependent on it to escape velocity from earth's gravity. Once reaching its maximum altitude, the Energia rocket, although designed for re-use, would in this instance detach from the Buran and be incinerated in Earth's atmosphere. The Buran would use its own smaller rockets for course correction and re-entry.
The Energia slowly lifted Buran from the launchpad, and the two vessels climbed beyond the gantry into the atmosphere. The crew had accomplished liftoff, and were now hurtling, faster than any other human beings in the Terran system, directly toward eternity.
To be continued.
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