Daughters of the Night Sky

For a few minutes, I wasn’t sure how many, I simply took in the crisp air, still tinged with the acrid smell of fuel and oil, and watched the clouds as they floated lazily across the blue canopy over my head. I thought of Mama, still toiling in the laundry day in and day out, now without me to help with meals and tending the cabin. At least now she had laid aside enough money for an old truck that would save her the walk into town every day. Were I the praying sort, I would have included the truck in my nightly vigil. It was perhaps the oldest motor vehicle in all of Chelyabinsk Oblast, and she didn’t have the means to replace it if it broke down beyond repair. If it survived another winter, it would be nothing short of a miracle.

I could go home. With my skills, I could find a job here in town to ease Mama’s burden. No one here would care if I left. I would at least be of use to her.

“He’s just a bitter old man, Ivanova. Ignore him.” Solonev’s voice floated to my ears, so supple I wondered if I had dreamed it.

“It’s Katya, and you’re a mind reader as well as a splendid pilot, Cadet Solonev,” I said, resting up on my elbows and cocking my brow at him as he came to sit beside me. “No wonder you do so well here. How did you know to look for me here?”

“Vanya, if you don’t mind. I’ve seen you wander out here almost every day in fine weather for the past year. And I’m not a mind reader. No one could be around the cold-shoulder treatment he gives you and not be affected. I’m surprised you’ve lasted this long.”

“Thank you,” I said sourly, clutching my knees to my chest. You think I’m weak, too, yet you notice my wanderings.

“That’s not what I meant. He’s unbearable to you. Few of the other women have it as bad.”

I thought he inched closer but convinced myself I had imagined it.

“Or the men,” I agreed. “He’s taken a special liking to me; that much is certain.”

“Because you’re the only woman in his class,” he explained, lighting a cigarette. Not long ago I calculated the cost of each of the half-smoked cigarettes he and the rest of the male cadets left strewn about outside and in the ashtrays near the campus doors. I could easily buy Mama a year’s worth of groceries with what they wasted in a month.

“Is that supposed to be comforting?” I picked at the dewy grass rather than look at him.

“I don’t know, but you shouldn’t take it personally. I meant what I said. You’re a damned fine navigator.” He nudged me companionably with his elbow. I looked up from the blade of grass I twirled between my thumb and forefinger and locked eyes with him for just a moment before fixing my gaze on the tip of my boot.

“I know I am. It would just be nice to be acknowledged.” I chucked the blade of grass back out into the field.

“Are you here to fly to get noticed?”

Fair point, but it’s easy for you to say when your flying is complimented at every turn. “To fly. It’s always been about the flying. I want to pilot my own plane.”

“And you will.” His black eyes shifted from flippant to serious. “A navigator’s skills are even more valuable than a pilot’s. I’m grateful for every minute I sat in the navigator’s seat. It’s made me a far better pilot. Forget the rest. You won’t be grounded again. From what I saw, Tokarev’s ankle isn’t twisted—it’s broken—and he’ll have to take the rest of the year off and finish in the fall. I’ll insist that you fly as my navigator. You’ll get the hours you need to graduate and do whatever it is you want.”

“So I have to rely on your kindness to get my wings,” I said. “I thought Stalin had emancipated us, but I feel just as dependent as ever.” I exhaled and stared out into the vastness of the field. Shouting about the injustice was a waste of precious energy.

“Changes like these can’t happen overnight. Not while stubborn old men like Karlov are in charge. They see women as the bearers of children, the providers of meals, and the scrubbers of floors. Or decoration. But change is happening.”

“You’re a philosopher as well as a pilot,” I observed. “I suppose you’re right, but it never happens fast enough. If he can’t see the need to train anyone with the drive and the brains to fly a plane, he’s no business being an instructor.”

“Well, Moscow agrees with you, Katya, and that’s really all that matters.”

Taisiya grabbed my arm and pulled me into a shadowed corner.

“I heard Cadet Solonev sweet-talked Karlov into letting you fly. How did it go?” The whole academy would know about the flight before I made it back to the barracks. That’s how things worked in any school as small as this.

“I made every mark. What would you expect?”