Daughters of the Night Sky

The last two weeks at the academy were intense. When we weren’t in the air, we were in our books until we passed out in our musty bunks from sheer exhaustion. None of the men teased us for having our noses in books anymore. Not even Vanya. Our exams started in two days, and the instructors and students both seemed determined to cram a review of three years of instruction into our last week. A headache had settled behind my eyes, and I was ready to burn every beloved text in my battered footlocker.

We had just completed an extended theoretical session, and the mess hall beckoned with a subpar dinner, after which I would crawl into bed until Taisiya dragged me from it by my toes, when Vanya came up beside me and took me by the elbow.

“Headmaster Rushkov has an errand for us in town,” he said. “Let’s get moving so we don’t miss dinner.” The head of the academy frequently called on students to run his errands, but I’d never been called on to so much as post a letter.

“Let me stash my books,” I said, veering toward the barracks.

“No time. We’re taking one of the academy’s trucks. You can stow them in there.”

I nodded and followed him to the parking lot where the dingy green trucks stood, parked in a row with rigid precision. I wanted to ask what Rushkov needed that required my assistance—if there were supplies to fetch, surely he would have sent a man—but then decided I didn’t care. As Vanya drove the rumbling pickup off campus to the city that lay beyond, he reached over and held my hand, but we didn’t speak as the truck rattled over the uneven streets, neither wanting to break the comfortable silence.

We didn’t park in front of the post office, nor any other of the locations I thought likely for the errand. Instead he parked in front of the small Chelyabinsk city administration building.

“Rushkov needs documents of some sort?” I asked. It was a logical errand but didn’t require two cadets, days away from their final exams, to complete it.

“Rushkov owed me a favor,” Vanya said quietly, turning off the ignition. His hands remained on the wheel of the truck. “I asked for a night off base for both of us, the use of this truck, and no questions.”

“How nice.” I pulled the back of his hand to my mouth and pressed my lips against it. The exams still loomed in the back of my brain, however, and I was losing the fight to keep them there. As much as I wanted to be alone with him, was this not precisely the sort of distraction that could cost me on my exams?

No, I decided. Might not a good meal and good company do as much for my exam results as yet more hours poring over my texts? In any event, I was determined to find out.

“I’d dearly love to know why Rushkov owes you a favor.”

“To tell you would violate the agreement he and I made, but it’s safe to say that Comrade Rushkova would not be pleased with her husband’s behavior if I made her aware of it.”

I rolled my eyes. The usual tale, I was sure. A young woman—a maid, a shopgirl, or even one of the cadets from my very own bunkroom. Well, it wasn’t my scandal, and if Vanya used Rushkov’s indiscretion to our advantage, I would enjoy it for tonight.

“A date isn’t precisely what I had in mind, my Katyushka,” he whispered, scooting closer to me on the bench seat of the truck and wrapping his arm around my shoulders. “I have something important to ask of you.”

He’s going to ask me to stay home, isn’t he? Will I be able to refuse him again? I tried to relax into his embrace but found I couldn’t. “What is it, Vanyusha?”

“If you won’t stay home from the front, there is one other thing you can do to send me off to war with some peace of mind.”

I gave in then, melding closer to him on the seat, oblivious to the people who walked on the sidewalk in front of us, peering through the windshield. “I’ll do it if I can, sweet Vanya.”

“Marry me, Katyushka.”

My heart strained painfully against my ribs for a moment before I reminded myself to draw breath. I’d known Vanya for less than three months. Did I know him well enough to spend the rest of my life tied to him? I looked into the serious black eyes as he studied my face, awaiting my decision. I willed an answer to come but found nothing but a cold ball of fear in my gut.

I thought of Mama, who would be denied the chance to see her only child married. I thought of his mother, who might resent me for stealing her son from her without so much as a word of warning. Of his father, who could hardly be expected to approve of his son marrying a laundress’s daughter, no matter who my father had been. And I thought of Papa, who would not be there to give us his consent and good wishes. To offer his blessing and dance with me at our wedding. At least in the last case, there was nothing I could do to rectify it.

But did they matter? They would not be the ones going to war. Could they deny us our happiness when the jackal was scratching at our door?