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 space. Their rocket, which was launched from a space station in Kazakhstan, went to a height of sixty-two miles above the ground. It was a short flight, and the dogs didn’t go into orbit.
They survived.
Tsygan never flew again. Dezik did, exactly a week later, and, sadly, she died when the parachute holding her capsule failed to open.
Between 1951 and 1961, many more Russian dogs were sent into space, including the most famous, Laika, who became the first living being to orbit Earth, in November, 1957.
Most of the dogs were found on the streets of Moscow. All of them were very small. All of them were female.
Derek Landy is the author of the number one bestselling Skulduggery Pleasant series. He has won awards. He is not modest. He lives in Dublin.
Alan Clarke is an award-winning illustrator, sculptor and occasional writer. His images conjure worlds that are whimsical, darkly comic, magical, sometimes grotesque, but always beautifully executed. His work has been published and exhibited worldwide. Alan is based in Dublin.
“There may come a day,” roared General Tua, “when the legacy of Man falls! When his shields splinter under Fomorian sword! But it will not be this day!”
A roar sounded among the troops, and Tua’s horse reared back on two legs, before the general kicked in his heels and galloped up the line.
“When they speak of this day, they will speak of loyalty! Of duty! Of …”
The last word was lost to Corporal Fleece as Tua sped further away, but he was relatively sure it was ‘honour’. Tua was big on honour.
Men jostled him from all sides, and despite the cold winter wind, Fleece felt uncomfortably hot. It stank here too. Bathing was not high on the list of requirements for the foot soldiers of the Hibernian Army. Being big, brutish and ugly, however, seemingly were, and as such Fleece reckoned himself to be a soldier lacking. He couldn’t even see the valley where they were going to be fighting – couldn’t even see the Fomorian Army amassed on the other side. Although this was probably a good thing.
General Tua rode back into range.
“Here, on the fields and in the valleys of Drumree, we will send these demons back to the seas where they were spawned! Then they will learn what it means to encroach on the lands of Man! They will …” And off he went again, up the line in the other direction.
Fleece turned his head, got a blast of foul breath and wrinkled his nose. He saw Iron Guts, his best friend in the whole of Hibernia, and tried to squeeze through the throng of men towards him. Failing miserably, he resorted to waving and shouting over the soldiers’ heads.
“Iron Guts! Iron Guts! I missed that last bit! What did he say? What did he say after ‘encroaching on our lands’?”
Iron
