aimedforthemoon

from here:

Esfir's room is still mostly as painfully neat as ever, but there are changes. If the models of air-and-starcraft are gone from her desk, the books are still there in neat piles and there is a pin-up board on one wall, complete with photographs from her old life.

There are also bookcase-building materials on a sheet on the floor.

after this:

This is level three.

This is the seventh door on the left.

This is Esfir's door.

Esfir's door is locked.

Esfir is very busy.

And Esfir's door is not sound-proof.

Esfir was born and raised a city-girl. The city in question might have been a bombed out ruin for most of the time she was there, and there might be too many nomads in her background for her to ever shun the wide open steppes and forests, but when all is said and done, she's a city-girl.

Of course, her grandfather was a stubborn man who thought cities were the height of foolishness and, yes, it was all very well for Shostak to do well, but look what leaving the farm did for him? Crashing his plane into those fucking Germans above Moscow, that's what, and leaving you an orphan, Fira, being raised in a city. Not that the old man ever said as much all in one go. Unless he was telling stories, he barely said a word. She'd always wondered what he was saving them for. But she'd spent enough summers on the farm to know her way around animals and Vovka the mixed-breed, stubborn horse who had somehow managed to survive Nazi-occupation.

Probably the same way her grandfather had - by being too stubborn to die.

And it's partly homesickness for that collective farm and grumpy old man and stubborn horse that has the tiny pilot perched on paddock fence, watching the Milliways horses.

The third day is spent much as the second: in forge.
Nine days," he says. "Nine days you will spend with me, one for each of the nine years my wife and I were together.
She's making a bird, adapted from the model planes Esfir knows so well. The radio part is easy; making it look like a swan is not. Still, she's talented, and has been throwing herself into it, and things are coming together.
You cannot escape
The swan is for not her, not for him, but for the lovely, silent woman Weyland keeps around.
and you cannot ask me to let you go.
(only half of it is because he asked to be surprised)
You will not return to the bar during those nine days
But after so many hours, her heart isn't in it anymore. She looks up, rubs the back of her neck (ignoring the oil and grime on her hands)

(nine days)
and suddenly stares at him, eyes narrowed.

When Esfir arrived at Milliways, it had been after several years of cosmonaut training and, no, it wasn't all maths and computers. They had to be able to withstand the g-force of a launch, had to be able to push their bodies until they knew exactly when they started to pass out. She was, in short, exceedingly fit when she arrived, and even if staying in shape wasn't a habit by now, it at least passes the time.

It's not surprising that she's far, far more in shape than one Calvin Chandler, and this fact has just been made effortlessly clear.

A fine early autumn morning, a moderate jog at a decent pace (she wouldn't be cruel enough to race him, just set the speed), and it wouldn't be complete without some mockery.

It's another thing she's good at, which is why the tiny woman (dressed in sneakers, shorts, and a t-shirt) is currently cocking her eyebrow at her companion.

Even though they've reached the starting point again, she doesn't say anything.

Possibly, she doesn't need to.

Esfir's room is a normal, hotel-style room. Plush carpet, plain curtains framing large windows, of which one is open. But it's also neat. She's an astronaut, and they are always neat.

Her bed is made, her books and manuls either neatly stacked on her desk, or neatly against a wall, but in a slight divergence she also has models on her desk.

A MiG-21PF.

A Soyez rocket.

An RZ-1 A-wing.

And after she ushers Billy in, she locks the door behind them without even being aware of it.

Here is the simulator room, the dimensions of which are hazy and containing a number of simulators that only the narration can count.

Still, this is where Esfir spends most of her time, and she opens the door for him.

"After you."

It's late afternoon - still warm, but late enough that the moon is out - and Esfir is lying on the grass, shoes next to her and pants rolled up. She's gazing up at the blue sky, one hand under her head.

The other is out in front of her and, one eyes closed, she is making the moon vanish and appear just by moving her thumb.

(possibly, she really shouldn't be doing this)