Aimie Runyan - Daughters of the Night Sky

“I expect I did,” I said, remembering the sight beneath my blouse.

“It’s been a long three days waiting for you to wake up, lazy-bones.” The warmth in Oksana’s voice was uncharacteristic. She had her arm in a sling but, from my sidelong view, looked to have decent coloring, considering her ordeal.

“Three days? I can’t possibly have been asleep for three days.”

“You snore.”

“Thanks,” I said, wishing I had the strength to throw a pillow at her. “Have you heard anything from the regiment?”

“Not a word,” Oksana said. “Information isn’t easy to come by here. And since I’ve not been cleared to fly, they’re not too fussed about keeping me well briefed.”

“I’m so sorry about Sofia,” I said after a few moments. I thought of the solemn faces of the rest of the regiment and wondered how we’d go on without her as our champion.

“She almost got away. We outmaneuvered the first plane, but only just. We never saw the second one coming. By the time we reacted, it was too late.”

“It was the same for us. They aimed for Taisiya, hoping to take down the whole plane.” My hands gripped the bleached sheet, and my muscles tensed, causing my side to scream.

“So she—”

“She’s gone. They were fairly certain the other crews were lost entirely.” The truth of it echoed off the concrete walls. “Taisiya died on the flight back. I was too busy keeping the plane from crashing to try to patch her up.”

“Stop now, before you head down that path, Katya. I’ve been down it. There was nothing you could have done to save her.”

“I know,” I whispered. I was no medic. Even if I were, I couldn’t have simultaneously flown the plane and attended to her injuries in time to save her. If there had been time. “I hope you haven’t been feeling the same about Sofia.”

“No, I wasn’t talking about Sofia,” Oksana said, turning her head to look at the expanse of gray on the opposite wall. “This war started much sooner for some of us.”

A commotion from the other end of the hospital drew our attention before I could ask what she meant. The nurses scurried in a dozen directions, and the doctor spoke rapid fire, though far enough away that we couldn’t make out the conversation. A stomping of boots on tile floors then approached from my left, and I wished I could sit well enough to get a view.

“It’s Chernov,” Oksana whispered.

“How wonderful. Here to wish us a speedy recovery, do you think?”

Oksana chuckled under her breath at the very idea of Chernov making any kind of social call. He’d surely been born dispensing orders to his mother, nanny, and wet nurse.

“Captain Tymoshenko, I am pleased to hear from Dr. Vitayev that you’re well on the way to recovery,” the general said by way of greeting. He plastered a smile on his lips that looked so unnatural for him that it had to be uncomfortable.

“This is true, General,” Oksana replied, lifting her plastered arm as proof. “I’m feeling much better. Thank you for your concern.” She shot a glance at me, widening her eyes almost imperceptibly. You were actually right, and somewhere in hell the devil is putting on an overcoat.

“Excellent news. And when the good doctor clears you for active service, will you return to your post?” the general asked, posing the question so that the desired answer was obvious.

“Yes, General,” Oksana replied with admirable conviction. “I’d like to return as soon as may be to resume command, as Major Orlova would have wanted.”

“Well done. You’re very much needed. Major Orlova always spoke highly of you, and I am pleased her admiration was not misplaced. You’ll have a promotion to major for your service.”

Oksana sat up straighter at the pronouncement. “I’m not sure exactly what to say, General Chernov, other than to thank you for the honor. I will do my best to honor Major Orlova’s memory.”

“Just as I expected,” General Chernov said with a satisfied nod. “You’ve always appeared to be one of the most sensible women in your regiment, and I’m glad to know they’re in your capable hands.”

“I won’t clear you to return for at least two more weeks,” the doctor supplied. “I might allow you back to organize your troops if it were just your broken wrist, but your concussion can’t be trifled with.”

“Right,” the general said. “It’s just as well. We’ve put your regiment on light duty for the moment, given the circumstances. We have another regiment supporting you, so things are under control for the time being.”

“I will act as pilot of my own crew,” Oksana said, making a pronouncement rather than a request. “And I will name my own navigator.”

“As you wish, Major Tymoshenko. Assignments in the division will be up to you. Goodness knows you understand better than anyone outside your regiment which of your people will work best together.”

“Very well.” Oksana gestured to me with her good arm. “Senior Lieutenant Soloneva here will be my deputy commander. She’s the best we have.”

I fought against the urge to sit up but turned myself in the direction of the general and Oksana to acknowledge my entrance into the conversation.

“You’re mending well, Lieutenant?”

“Remarkably,” the doctor replied for me. “But I would recommend a few weeks’ more healing before returning to service. Her wounds need time to knit properly, or she’ll risk aggravating them midflight. That might be more than a little inconvenient.”

“Understood. You’ll accept Major Tymoshenko’s assignment when you’re cleared, Soloneva?”

Men were sent back into service as soon as a physician would clear them—often before they were fully healed, if the rumors were true—but we could leave at any time. In a week I could be recovering in Mama’s cabin in Miass. Oksana looked over at me, and this thought evaporated like late-summer raindrops. Taisiya wouldn’t have abandoned the regiment, no matter how badly injured she was. She would be ashamed to think I would do so. Oksana would need me at her side as she learned how to lead.

“I accept, gratefully,” I said.

“Excellent. We’ll be promoting you to captain for your actions, Soloneva. You saved your aircraft from falling into enemy hands. Now get rested and ready yourselves to get back to service, the pair of you.”

The general exited as abruptly as he arrived, the doctor trailing after him.

“Surely the next visitor will be Grandfather Frost,” I said, breaking the silence. “I’d have sooner expected him .”

“It seems vulgar to take Sofia’s place,” Oksana said, ignoring my jest. “But I think it’s what she would have wanted.”

“I know it is,” I said, rolling slightly onto my left side to better see her.

“Thank you for accepting. I wasn’t sure you would.”

“What else am I to do? Knit socks?”

“You’re married. You have good reason to save your own skin.”

“Not while Vanya is risking his,” I said. “I’m flattered you chose me.”

“I meant what I said. You know your stuff, and I need someone like you to help me lead, if that’s to be my lot.”

“Someone like me?”

“Someone people like. I know I’m—I’m not the warmest of people. I need you to help me keep up morale. You’re better at it than I am. Sofia always told me to look to you and Taisiya if I needed guidance.”

“I’ll do what I can,” I said. “But the girls need more than just some cheering up. Sofia wouldn’t have chosen you without reason. That wasn’t who she was.” The breath caught in my throat as I registered the past tense.

Oksana sat silent for a few moments, and I began to wonder if she’d drifted off to sleep.