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Published:

October 12, 2023

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"What do you see, my friend?”

 

Mitch sighed as the words crackled through his helmet’s headset. His indefatigable crewmate, Yuri, was waiting at the rover.

 

“Nothing. Again, nothing. Fifth sample we’ve checked, fifth failure. Not what I’d chalk up as a successful day.”

 

“Ahh, do not be so hard on yourself! We will try again. Right now, Yuri is hungry!”

 

Mitch surveyed the valley one last time. The site was perfect. Gently sloping hills could provide shielding from destructive weather, two natural depressions made perfect irrigation reservoirs, and all this within three klicks of the base!

 

But plants couldn’t grow here. And that was all that mattered.

 

Mitch turned and made his way back to the rover. Maybe the next excursion would bring better results. But most likely, it wouldn’t.

 

* * *

 

Thonk-Pssshhh!

 

The airlock door slid open to Mitch and Yuri’s quarters. Exhausted, they popped the seals on their helmets and heaved them off. Normally, they would have entered through the station’s main entrance, but today – they were just ready to get some rest.

 

With a heavy sigh, Mitch set his helmet on the table. “Nothing like another day of the same results. Delta Minor is in no hurry to reveal its secrets.“

 

Yuri patiently reproved the younger crewmate. “Mmm, maybe… But you forget that Team Nine came back with a promising report two rotations ago. We are simply, ehh, how do you say it, ‘tying up loosened ends’ on our mission.”

 

Mitch cracked a grin at the Russian’s attempt at an English idiom. “Okay, sure – it’s not all hopeless. But you can’t blame a guy for feeling frustrated at our lack of progress. It’s been six months, and what have we got to show for it? There’s so little evidence for finding viable land where we can start plant cultivation. I know the atmospheric tests are improving, but it’s going to take months – no, years to find enough land to make this sustainable!”

 

“Enough”, Yuri growled. “I did not leave RosCosmos to go on a failing mission. We will find the land. We have to!”

 

Mitch looked down, his eyes flashing with pain. He’d signed on to the Delta Minor mission for one of the stupidest reasons possible: to escape boredom.

 

Four years of post-graduate school research wasn’t at all what he’d dreamed it would be. Resigning in frustration, he had joined a team exploring an exoplanet for plant cultivation opportunities. Pioneering ways to combat the worsening farming crisis on Earth was pretty incredible, sure, but there was only so much failure he was willing to take.

 

“Okay, look, you knew what you were signing up for. But look at me: I’m a botanist! I only made it this far because of that simple reason! I’m not some hardcore astronaut!”

 

Mitch looked off into the distance, his eyes clouding with tears. No, this wasn’t what he’d signed up for. His dreams were bigger than just doing analysis and cataloging experiments. He wanted to make a difference, to help people out. Right now, he was taking soil samples in a seemingly futile venture.

 

This mission’s apparent waste of time wasn’t all that gnawed at him. There was something deeper, a sense of hollowness that kept nagging at Mitch’s soul. Struggling to process his despair, he slumped down on their ragged couch.

 

Yuri cocked his head, furrowing his brow with concern. “Is something troubling you, my friend?”

 

“Bah, it’s nothing,” Mitch said. He still wouldn’t make eye contact with his crewmate.

 

After a long silence, Mitch looked up at Yuri. “You know, sometimes I just get so, so… homesick. I just want to go outside and mow the lawn, get some dirt under my fingernails, feel the sun’s rays on my bare skin. Heck, I’d give anything to sit down with some friends at a sports bar, shout at a TV for a couple hours and watch a game we’ll all forget about in a year.”

 

Finishing his last statement, Mitch noticed a change in his crewmate’s demeanor. Yuri’s eyes twinkled, daring Mitch to ask what mystery was brewing in the grizzled Russian’s mind.

 

“Wait here. Will be right back.”

 

Yuri trundled to the back of the shelter, ducking into the makeshift closet in the corner of their sleeping quarters. Mitch heard a large lid being opened, then a dull clinking of glass. What in the heavens was he up to now?

 

A few seconds later, Yuri came sauntering back to the table. In his hand were two beakers – likely scavenged from the lab. Both contained a golden brown liquid and were capped with a crude bent metal top. Whatever experiment Yuri had been tinkering with in his spare time, it was obviously something he wanted hidden from others.

 

He winked at Mitch. “I have been saving these for my ehh, personal use, but I think I can make an exception.”

 

With a “pop-hssss!”, Yuri pried the lid off each bottle. He gently poured the contents into two glasses secured from their cupboard, allowing the enticing aromas of malt and hops to fill the air. Pillowy foam rose to the top of each glass.

 

“B-but, how?”, Mitch asked incredulously. “We haven’t been able to grow anything successfully, and you know alcohol is prohibited unless given permissio–“.

 

Yuri raised a finger to his lips in a shushing motion. “Ah-ah. No questions. Right now, we forget all about this planet.”

 

Holding out the glass, he smiled, watching the tears well up in Mitch’s eyes. “Beer?”

 

Mitch eased the glass to his quivering lips. The golden liquid coursed across his tongue: malty, citrusy, with just a touch of bitterness to bring balance. Memories of life on Earth flooded in, memories he’d been reaching for but never touched.

 

“Well?” Yuri asked.

 

Mitch looked up at his friend. Taking another draught, the young botanist smiled and raised his precious homebrew.

 

“Here’s to another tomorrow.”

Copyright 2023 - SFS Publishing LLC

Yuri’s Secret

All dreams must face reality

A.J. Cross

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