“It sounded like an anthem. I kept expecting some shotputter to step up for her gold medal.”

Arkady laughed. “It is a dashing Russian song we call From an Island into a Deep Stream.”

“Oh, yeah. Lieber and Stoller, right?”

“Pardon?”

“Never mind.”

Arkady studied Henry. “Your face is swollen like a balloon. You move stiffly. Your back is sore.”

“Yeah. How could you tell?”

“It is a hazard of spaceflight. Your spinal column is stretching. This will not become easier. Your back muscles will weaken, your discs will stretch. You must go back to the orbital compartment and brace your legs against the walls, and press your head against the opposite wall, and stretch. You will feel much better.”

“An old cosmonaut trick?”

“Born of long experience.” Arkady worked at his list. “I have been able to observe the differences in approach by Russians and Americans to this business of spaceflight. You Americans build fine machines, but pay little attention to the fragile bodies crammed inside. To us, however, spaceflight is an affair, not of machines, but of humans. We sing. We joke. We speak to our families.”

“Smart guys.”

“You like music?”

Henry shrugged. “Not much. Geena played a lot of jazz.”

Arkady snorted. “Jazz makes me tired and irritated. Jazz does not reflect any of the feelings of our everyday lives. Jazz is a music of idleness. It is for young people, flinging, hectic, impetuous. As they grow up they will come to appreciate art that brings relaxation and enjoyment.”

Henry wondered if this guy was taking a rise out of him. “So what do you like? Songs about tractors?”

Arkady didn’t rise to that. “Russian folk music. Tangos, foxtrots. Sentimental songs by Ruslanova, Shtokolov, Kobson. These songs evoke warm feelings in me, and banish disquieting thoughts.”

“I’m happy for you.”

Arkady studied him. “Are you adjusting to weightlessness?”

“I guess so. I’m not throwing up so often. I guess I missed the training—”

Arkady snorted. “My training was begun by my grandmother.”

“You’re kidding.”

“No. At night we would go to the swings in the park, to train me against motion sickness. She pushed the swings and checked my endurance with an alarm clock.”

“My grandmother knitted me sweaters.”

“She was a sweet woman and a hard worker.”

“So you always wanted to be a cosmonaut? Did you follow the guys on Salyut and Mir?”

“Not the cosmonauts. I grew up in the military town of the Kantemir division, in which my father was serving. I had a happy childhood. My dream was born when I was in school. I read books and watched films about the Patriotic War. I idolized the pilots I saw there.