Beyond The Stars. Sarah Webb
said Gazenko. “They are all light-furred, yes?”
“Yes, comrade.”
“Before you ask why,” said Gazenko, “it is because of the cameras. The dark ones cannot be detected. Now, feed and cage them. Selection starts tomorrow morning.”
*
Tsygan woke. It was dark. Another dog yelped in her sleep. There was no other noise. The white coats weren’t there.
She slept, she woke, she drank water from the bowl in her cage. It was still dark. She slept again.
She woke.
The white coats had arrived. They moved around the room, they sat and examined papers, they stood at machines. There was no laughter. It was not like the day before. Tsygan knew this was an important day, a day to be careful.
The little dog in the cage beside Tsygan whispered.
“Why are we here?”
“I do not know,” said Tsygan.
“My name is Dezik,” said the little dog.
Tsygan didn’t answer her. They heard the older white coat, Gazenko.
“No food until after testing,” he said.
“What is testing?” Dezik whispered.
Tsygan looked at her. She was younger than Tsygan, and frightened.
“I do not know,” said Tsygan.
Something in her, a feeling, nudged her to say more.
“Do not be frightened, Dezik,” she said.
All the dogs were taken from their cages and brought to a corner of the bright room.
Pavel lifted Tsygan. He put her on to a metal basket. Tsygan had seen machines just like this before, in many of the shops in the city. They were used to weigh meat and other food. But why were the white coats weighing Tsygan? She wanted to jump, to bite, to run. But she stayed calm, she sat still.
Gazenko gazed over his glasses at the dial.
“Eight kilos,” he announced.
“Good dog,” said Pavel, as he lifted Tsygan out.
Tsygan knew she’d passed a test.
Another dog was lifted, and weighed.
“Ten kilos,” said Gazenko. “Too heavy.”
The dog was taken away.
The little dog, Dezik, was once again beside Tsygan.
“What if I am too heavy?” she whispered.
Tsygan looked at the little dog.
“Dezik,” she whispered. “You are smaller than me. Do not worry.”
“What if I am too small?”
“Don’t worry.”
Dezik and other dogs were weighed. No more dogs were taken away.
“This is good?” Dezik asked.
“I think so,” Tsygan whispered.
Large bowls of water were placed in front of the dogs and a the white coat stood with each one as they drank and drank until the bowls were empty.
“Now, comrades,” said Gazenko. “The time has come to explain the male-female issue.”
He pointed at Tsygan.
“This one I like,” he said. “Female, yes?”
“Yes, comrade.”
“And this one,” said Gazenko, pointing at the last remaining male dog, Boris. “Dress them in their suits.”
Two of the female white coats dressed Tsygan. She didn’t bite or pull away from them. They pulled something, some garment, over her hind legs, and up across her back.
“It is like a nappy,” said Svetlana.
The other white coat laughed.
They pulled another garment over her head. She could see nothing for some seconds. A human hand went past her mouth, and she was tempted to snap. But then her head came through a hole and she could see again.
“No helmet, comrade doctor?” said a white coat.
“No,” said Gazenko. “The helmets are not yet ready.”
There were metal rings attached to the garment – the suit.
Pavel and Svetlana made Tsygan stand in a metal box. The metal box was like the weighing scales she had sat in earlier, but it was flat. There were hooks on the side of the box and Svetlana attached these to the rings on Tsygan’s suit. This worried Tsygan but Svetlana’s pats and whispers kept her calm.
“Don’t worry, Tsygan,” she said. “Good girl.”
The male dog, Boris, was also standing in his own metal box.
“Pavel,” said Gazenko. “Stand here.”
Tsygan watched Pavel move across to the other box and stand in front of Boris.
“Now,” said Gazenko. “The dogs are full of water, yes?”
“Yes, comrade doctor.”
“Very good,” said Gazenko. “Commence vibration.”
The boxes started to move. Tsygan could feel the box shifting under her feet. The box made little movements, back and forth, and shook. She almost fell but she put her feet further apart and stayed upright. The movements got faster. Tsygan felt like she was being shaken by rough human hands. Was this testing? she wondered. She didn’t like it. But she fought the urge to lie down – and she fought the urge to pee.
“Increase,” Gazenko shouted, over the noise of the vibrating boxes. “Faster.”
The vibration increased and, almost as bad, so did the noise. Tsygan had to pee; she couldn’t stop herself. She looked quickly at the floor of the box – no pee. The pee had been trapped in the suit.
She heard laughter now, and cheerful human screams. She looked quickly across at the other dog, Boris, and saw that his pee had not been trapped. It was shooting up in the air, and Pavel was drenched. He had jumped away from the jet of pee, and he was laughing, like the other white coats, including the leader, Gazenko.
The boxes slowed – and stopped. Tsygan sat, then lay down in the box. She felt sick – but also pleased. Another test I’ve passed, she thought.
“So, Pavel,” said Gazenko. “Now you understand why our cosmonauts must be female.”
“Yes, comrade doctor.”
“All males are disqualified. Agreed?”
“Absolute agreement, comrade doctor.”
“A rocket full of dog pee,” said Gazenko. “That is not a good idea.”
As Pavel and Gazenko spoke, the female white coat, Svetlana, unhooked Tsygan and put her gently on the floor in front of a bowl of water.
Dezik was beside her.
“That is testing?” she asked.
“Yes,” Tsygan whispered.
“What is cosmonaut?” Dezik asked.
“I do not know,” said Tsygan. “But I think we will find out soon.”
She shook herself, then drank. She yawned, and lay down on the floor. And slept.
On August the 15th, 1951, after eight months of ‘testing’, Tsygan and Dezik became the first living beings to go into