The city of the future had always been portrayed as a city of modern geometric shapes with flashes of clean white and bright color. The Muscovite reality was far different. The brutalist apartment blocks had only become bigger, taller, and more oppressive. Rodion Nikolaevich Safronov lived on the 42nd floor of one of the massive towers that broke through the dense smog and he was late for a meeting with his brother, Georgi Nikolaevich.
At least the metro had been expanded, one could reach any point in the city in good time provided they weren’t afraid of the metro’s patrons. The only people who rode on the metro were long-time city residents – tourists tended to order their own cabs. It was only apocryphal, but Rodion had heard a story about an old country grandmother who had brought a brace of chickens into the metro, proceeded to butcher them, then cooked them on a portable stove before disembarking. Those birds had boarded alive and left as chicken Kiev. The would-be chef had considered everything aside from the clean-up and it had been half a day before the car had been pulled off the line for cleaning.
Today at least, no chickens were being slaughtered on the Metro. It was just crowded, just like always. Rodion shouldered his way through the crowd and picked a spot to stand where he wouldn’t have to fight with as many people to get out. His brother lived with their mother two stops down. Vika Alekseevna Safronov was getting on in her years and the brothers had agreed to take a percentage off their checks to finance for her retirement somewhere in the lower gravities of Mars or Luna where her old bones could finally get some rest. He put up with the crowd for the duration of his trip and felt relieved when he finally was able to disembark into the slightly less crowded metro station.
Georgi lived on the slightly more desirable 28th floor of his housing block and answered quickly when Rodion rang the bell, he looked irritated.
“You got here late; I have to take Alisa to her mother’s. We’ll talk after I take her”, he said ushering Rodion inside the tiny apartment.
“How’s mama?” Rodion asked as he hung up his coat in the entryway. The old woman had scalded herself last week after forgetting to shut off the hot tap on the sink.
“You know how she is. She won’t let Alisa or me help her with anything”, Georgi replied.
“Are you talking about Babushka? Hi, Uncle Rodya!” Alisa, Georgi’s daughter from his previous marriage, came in, “By the way, she told me to tell you she’s got tea on”.
Alisa had her backpack and suitcase packed already. She, like everyone else, was used to the now bi-weekly custody agreement.
“Thanks Alisa, tell your mom I said hello and thanks for the jam she sent last week. It was great!”.
“I will, Mama’s jam is the best!” Alisa agreed.
“You’re right”, Georgi interrupted, “no one makes it better. Maybe you can ask her to show you how to make some while you’re there and then you can teach us the recipe! But for now, it’s time to go, we’re late already”, Georgi took Alisa’s suitcase.
“Bye Uncle Rodya!” Alisa waved, and the two left the apartment.
Standing alone in the entryway, Rodion decided to see what his mother would complain about today so he headed into the tiny kitchen. At the small table sat the older woman, cradling a cup of strong black tea in one hand and in front of her sat a small plate of tea biscuits. Rodion took his time preparing some tea from the family samovar, an heirloom from the old days, then sat across from her.
If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.
Vika smiled at him and gestured at the plate of cookies. She wasn’t the type to accept a no in reply, so even though Rodion had stopped enjoying that particular sort of cookie several years ago he took a few and piled them next to his cup. He found that if he returned them slowly to the plate when she wasn’t looking, she wouldn’t notice that he hadn’t eaten them.
“How are you today?” Rodion asked.
“The birds are making a racket on the balcony again”, she complained, “I keep telling Kolya to get one of those automatic bird-scarers to keep them from nesting there, what if they made the boys sick?”
Rodion frowned. Today was obviously not one of her better days if she was talking like his father, Nikolai, was still alive and that he and his brother were still children. For Vika, it was as if all time was happening at once, completely contextless. And what was he to do? Play into it? Break the illusion? Which was kinder? Which was easier?
“I’ll remind Kolya about it when I see him next”, Rodion lied. He’d chosen the easier path. It would stress her less to let her continue to live in a world without the loss of her husband.
“Thank you dear”, she said quite happily, “Oh!”, she said with dawning realization, “Rodya, I’m so happy to see you!”
“I’m happy to see you too”, he agreed, “Did you like the book I sent you?”
‘The book…. Oh! Yes, the book! I left it somewhere and I can’t find the damned thing. I’m sure it’s quite good, but Georgi’s been no help in trying to find it”.
“I’m sure he’s been busy lately, I can help you find it if you’d like”, Rodion offered.
“Oh no, that’s not necessary!” Vika protested, “I’m sure it’ll turn up eventually!”
Georgi had done some redecorating since Rodion had last visited. He took that as a good sign, a sign that things between Georgi and his husband, Dmitri were going better. Dmitri had always struggled with living planetside. It made sense. Given his background, Dmitri’s job opportunities planetside were minimal so he spent most of his time shipping out on long-haul trips. Dmitri’s reasoning had been the money, which was good, but Rodion guessed it also gave him an excuse to stay off-planet for just a little while longer. But if Georgi had taken the time to redecorate – a new sofa, extra chairs for the dining table, there was even an extra desk tucked away in a corner – that had to mean the Dmitri was coming down for good. He was glad that Georgi and Alisa would have their family all together.
He heard the front door unlock, and his brother came in.
“I like the new couch”, Rodion told him.
“That old thing? I got it from the family across the hall”, Georgi’s tone was dismissive but his face showed he was pleased.
“Has the spaceman finally decided to come home?” Rodion joked. Georgi’s face fell.
“Actually, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about”, he sat on the couch, and rested his head in his hands.
Rodion sat down nearby, he hadn’t expected this, “What happened? Are you two having problems? Again?”
His brother stayed silent for a moment.
“I thought we were making progress with the whole living together thing. In our last call all he could talk about was how he was excited to come see us once his tour was over. That was 2 weeks ago, and I haven’t heard from him since. We were supposed to talk three days ago, but my calls kept falling through. He should’ve at least sent us a message by now. He knows how I worry”.
“Do you think something happened to him?”, Rodion asked.
“I have to think that. I thought we had got past the ghosting stage a long time ago, but I don’t know. Maybe I don’t know him as well as I’d thought. God, I hope not, I really love him”.
Vika came in, she had finished preparing the buterbrod and placed the tray in front of the two, then sat in the armchair and started to sew, while listening to the conversation. Rodion wasn’t sure what her thoughts on the matter were, she’d never really indicated feeling one way or another about her son-in-law.
“Have you told Alisa yet?” Rodion asked.
“Oh, no. I don’t want her to be more worried than she is already. And we still don’t know what’s going on yet, which is why I asked you to come. I remember during your mandatory service you used to work on auditing down at the shipyards. Maybe you know somebody who can look up the ship Dmitri was on and see what’s going on with it, please? When I sent in an info request, they said it would take almost half a year for it to process because it’s a Mars ship”.
“Georgi, you know I’d do anything for you and your family. Of course, I’ll look around for you. Can you tell me the name of the ship he was shipping out on?”
“It was the Anna Karenina, shipped out from Deimos Prime almost two years ago”, Georgi told him.