Daughters of the Night Sky

The craft shuddered as we flew, and I scanned all the instruments—such as they were—for any signs of imminent engine failure. I sniffed as intently as a dog waiting for his table scraps, seeking out the first whiff of smoke. Though it would do little good. If the craft was going to catch fire, it would go up quickly and we likely wouldn’t have a chance to land before it became engulfed in flames. In the best case we’d be forced to land in German territory. I doubted my little army-issue pistol would do much good against well-armed German sentries and had little desire to test that theory.

I wanted to growl over the interphone at Oksana for her carelessness. That same mistake had nearly cost Taisiya and me our places in the regiment, and for good reason. I stilled my tongue, knowing she’d respond better to cool logic on the ground, but it cost me every ounce of restraint I had not to hurl insults about her stupidity and that of all her relations—living and dead—over the tinny contraption.

We landed forty minutes later, my knees wobbling as I hopped onto the ground from the wing. We didn’t usually exit the aircraft between sorties these days, but it was clear we needed a mechanic’s assessment. I motioned needlessly to Polina, who was already approaching as I ran my hands over the linen. The scorch marks on the underbelly showed we had possibly been within mere centimeters of disaster, but there didn’t seem to be much damage beyond the cosmetic. I pulled Oksana by the crook of her arm away from the bustle of the ground crews.

“What was that, Oksana?” I asked in a low growl.

“War, Katya. In case you haven’t noticed.”

“You completely disregarded the safe limits of our aircraft. Not to mention my own warning.”

“I saw an opportunity, Katya, and I took it.”

“And you nearly took our plane down,” I said, thinking of where I might be if I had accepted Vanya’s offer. Someplace safer than the cockpit of a plane with a masochist as pilot. “Do you think a dozen trucks are worth an aircraft and two crew?”

“We need to get back in the air,” Oksana said, turning away. “Polina finished her check.”

“Do you want me to find another regiment?” I asked. “Because I will tolerate many things, but never recklessness. And I sure as hell won’t fly with a pilot who is too stupid to listen to her navigator.”

“You will fly the rest of our mission tonight.” Oksana’s tone brokered no refusal. “We can talk more tomorrow.”

We flew seven more sorties that night, and, as though sensing the anger shooting from my eyes through the back of her helmet, she didn’t deviate from the safe limits prescribed for the aircraft.

On our way back to the barracks by the early-morning light, I pulled her aside once I’d regained enough sensation in my face to be able to speak.

“We have to talk about what happened on that first sortie.”

“It’s simple, Katya. I had an extra bomb. I wasn’t going to waste it.”

“So drop it, but not when we’re under the safe ceiling. That was nothing short of stupid, Oksana.”

“Katya, we have to take risks to end this war.”

“A calculated risk is fine. I don’t mind aggressive flying, either. What I do mind is recklessness. It wasn’t even a particularly stellar target. To waste lives and resources like that isn’t just reckless; it’s dishonorable.”

Oksana paused and turned her head to look at the crews who were stumbling into the barracks to catch some sleep. “You were lucky out east,” she said. “Kiev was one of the first cities they came to. Do you know what it was like?”

“No.”

“They rounded up people—Jews mostly, and handicapped people, and anyone who spoke out against the Reich or fought back. They slaughtered them. By the thousands, Katya. Families. Children. I promise you, no matter how bad things might get in Miass, they will never be like those days when the Germans steamrolled through Kiev unchecked. Stalin did nothing to protect his own people. Probably thought Hitler had done him a favor until the fighting got too close to Red Square. Don’t talk to me about recklessness and dishonor. I’ve seen what they can do, and I make no apologies for what I did.”

“You will not settle a vendetta with me as your navigator, Oksana. I won’t do it. I am prepared to give my life for my country, but I’m not going to throw it away if I don’t have to.”

“They would cut every last one of us down, Katya. Don’t think they wouldn’t.”

“I know. But you have to be responsible for this unit. Did Sofia ever pull such tactics?”

“No, but as commander and as pilot, I can do as I please. I don’t answer to her anymore. Nor to you.”

“You said yourself that you need me. And now, more than ever, I think you do. But if you want to try leading without my help, keep on doing as you are.”