Truth or Lie

“We have splashdown for the capsule,” Mission control reported.

“Copy that,” Mary said, looking out the earth-side window as if her former station-mates’ splashing into the ocean could be visible from orbit. She whispered, “Why do I always do that?” to her remaining companion in the International Space Station.

“I too look each time,” Vlad whispered back.

“You’re cleared for R&R.”

“KHARA-show!” exclaimed Vlad.

Mary clicked the speaker to confirm and begin their rest and relaxation. “What shall we play?”

“As usual,” Vlad said. “You first.”

Mary floating a minute, thinking, then said, “Favorite actor?”

Vlad flashed a roguish smile and flexed his arm, answering, “Dwayne, The Rock, Johnson.”

“He’s my cousin.” Mary flashed her own smile back.

“No!”

“Final answer?”

Vlad shook his finger at Mary. “Tricky tricky, comradine. Not my answer.”

Mary raised her brows and tapped the window behind her. “Can’t see us from space, but Guam packs a pop-culture punch.” She bent toward him so their noses were mere centimeters apart. “Dwayne Johnson is my cousin.”

They stared each other down, revolving like a floating sculpture of Vishnu, their bent arms and legs arching a corona over their locked eyes.

“I lie?” Vlad taunted.

“You want me to say you are.”

He cocked his head.

“Am I a liar?” Mary batted her eyes.

Vlad grabbed a bar to stop rotating around her. He wrapped his legs around it and crossed his arms, examining her. “You lie well. I always supposing Americans to be shit liars.”

“I’m not American.”

“You are.”

“Maybe three-fifths of one, but that’s a failing grade.”

Vlad glanced at the closest microphone.

“What are they gonna do?” Mary scanned Vlad’s body: eyes to knees and back again. “I think you’re telling the truth.”

“Derm!” he exhaled in defeat.

“Everyone loves The Rock. He’s adorable.” Mary held out her hand for the reward.

“Too hasty, comradine. I am not already answering.”

Mary hooked her legs to sit opposite him. She crossed her arms too. “Well?”

“You say he is cousin. Is he cousin on you mother’s side or fahzzas.”

“I love your accent.”

“Answer, please.”

“No.”

“No?”

“No. The game is Truth or Lie, not 20 questions.”

Vlad hmph’d his displeasure and released himself to float around her. “You have face of Siberian but skin of Maori.”

Mary rolled her eyes.

“You from same region as Rock, but same island?”

Mary glanced at the digital clock over his shoulder. “Twenty seconds.”

“Ok ok.” In an effort to look suave, he crossed his legs and tapped his chin. But, unmoored, bumped into the space station’s frame. “Oo!”

Mary chuckled. “Ten”

“No ask me how I am?”

She counted down in Russian, “Pyetz, chteerie…”

Vlad pointed at her, “Lie!”

Mary shook his hand. “Well played, friend.”

“Tank you,” Vlad said.

As he pulled her into a collegial hug, his eye was distracted by the view of earth behind her. He released her as his mouth fell open.

“What?” Mary turned.

They were over the South Pacific. An orange dot was growing in the vast expanse of blue.

Mary accepted his arms around her as she watched Guam vaporize beneath them.  Her tears floated into his face.

Alarms went off. An order was coming in on both of their private coms.

Vlad silenced the station’s alarm and held her closer. “I am not wanting to know this order,” he said.

“Fuck the order,” Mary said. “Fuck all of them!”

As they orbited across the beginning of the war, the cities of the world burst into orange dots: Tokyo, Hong Kong, Jakarta, Mumbai, Riyadh, Paris…

Mary buried her face in Vlad’s chest.

He had closed his eyes after Hong Kong and hadn’t strained to see if Moscow was over the horizon. He rested his chin on her soft hair and prayed for the back of his eyelids to stop glowing from the orange blasts far below.

“What are we gonna do?” she said.

He shook his head and held her. “What is there to do?” He cupped the back of her head. “May I closing this shade?” he asked.

“Pah-JHA-lsta,” she said.

Vlad covered the window so their only view was the other window: deep, black, star-spangled space.

No earth noise reached them. No more alarms sounded. No more messages were sent. After hours of stories and embrace, they fell asleep.

“Vlad,” Mary whispered, nudging him. “You’re laying on the wrong thing.” She pulled him away from the control panel he’d drifted into.

Vlad woke. “I had bad dream,” he said. He looked around, dismayed. “How I sleep here?”

Mary envied his amnesia. But it only lasted a moment. When he saw her face and the message notice still blinking on the console, any hint of a good morning left him.

“Do you want breakfast?” she asked. “Or do you want to keep playing?”

“DOH-bre OOT-ruh,” he said, hooking his legs to sit. “We play.”

Mary resumed game position. “I’m gonna brush my teeth. Don’t wanna win with morning breath.” She smiled, taking her oral hygiene kit from its compartment.

“Ok,” he said. “I go first.” He glanced at the shaded window. “When this open, what we see?”

Mary swirled the brush across her teeth and nodded acceptance of his challenge. With her elbow, she indicated that he should answer first.

“I tink band of ash. Poles white.”

Mary bobbed her head as if to say, “good guess,” and spat into the recycling tube. “Not yet. I think it’s all grey down there. No time for the dust to settle into a band.” She began to stow her dental kit.

“Final answer?”

Mary clicked the compartment shut. “Yup.”

Vlad motioned for her to lift the shade.

Mary hesitated.

“Is not useful being ignorant,” Vlad said. He held out his hand. “I am here.”

Mary took his hand with one of her own and lifted the shade.

They gasped.

Vlad crossed himself three times in the Russian way.

Mary pushed herself into the mess hall, returning with a silver food packet which she floated to Vlad. “You win the round.”

“Tank you,” he said.

Mary nodded. “My turn.”

Vlad stowed his booty and nodded for her question.

Mary turned toward the blinking message light. She looked at Vlad. “What’s the last order?”

“What does it matter, my friend?”

“Because it’s our game. We are playing a game.”

Vlad pointed to the earthside window. “And our games are more important than theirs?”

Mary opened her hand to him. “Now they are.”