This is a lovely time of year for spring.

Day One:

“War to be confirmed; major urban centers cleared; leaders declare martial law; chaos ensues.”

We got the message at the exact same time. I was the first to realize what was going on, despite the fact that that was the final official message on our shared feed. As it bounced off of our sensors, he had to have his translated. I was up early that day, and had somehow managed to remain optimistic as I looked for coffee. Dimitri would join me in our rounds after he saw the message (I could hear the electronics in his room). And then I looked out the main window.

No matter how long you spend in space, it still sends me into my childhood. The view from I.S.S. is glorious, and it reminds me of the first photos I ever saw from outer space…and every movie that I ever watched where they got the science wrong, but kept all of the magic. It was a sunrise hovering over Africa as I sat down and had some processed and freeze-dried mush.

We were now throwing everything away.

“You read the feed?”

He was at my back, and I turned to see him staring out at the sun and our home. Even now, he was ready to work with his uniform and clipboard in hand. It was time to check on the condition of the ship, but I was beginning to wonder why.

“Had to. Signal came up and woke me up.”

We had heard the threats and speeches as well as read about the outbreaks. And there had been rumours of an escalating war for a very long time now. It was a small miracle (a last-chance diplomacy?) that our own nations had agreed to send us both here for several months. Maybe.

It could have worked.

“So, what happens now?” He needed his coffee, too.

“Now? We simply...work. He stirred his drink, not looking at me.

“Our countries are at war...probably, not us.”

“Right.” He stared out of the window again. The glare was growing a bit, and the screen automatically darkened. “We have a job to do.”

“And we are doing it well.”

And then he smiled, but I could see that there was something missing there. There was no more warmth. "I'll begin the rounds," I could not blame him. We were the last ones left in charge and we had done good work up there. I stared at his back and wondered if he knew. I wondered what he received in his room.

In addition to the messages from my wife, who was the only allowed family number, there was only one government-related text message on my phone: "At this time of year, spring is lovely." Strange to think of it, but that was the most important message I would receive that day. It was not a compliment about the season. It was also unrelated to the season (it was late August). I had just received an order.

I had to kill Dimitri.

*

Day 4:

I apologize for the four-day gap, which may seem odd. I was not in the best of health.

Nosebleeds and nausea were taking over. I was trying to self-diagnose and nothing in my training clicked. Was everything mental? Dimitri was no help.

“What the hell…?”

He looked no better than me. He was working extra hard in the lower decks and I rarely saw him unless we were both in the kitchen.

However, there was something to be reported. “It’s so…lovely.”

I almost choked on my pills. He knocked me out as we ate our evening meals together. “What’s…?”

“Up here. The vista. It’s still so lovely.”

I needed to say something, but I didn't. I could feel blood on my lips.

"You absolutely need to..." “I’ll be in my room.”

That couldn’t be a coincidence, right? Dimitri talking about how “lovely” things are and that message on my phone. We were told that we were not to share our devices no matter what and I knew that communication between both our governments and the station was cut off (no electronic hums were heard to indicate his screen was working). My stomach was in knots, besides the nausea. I could not even talk to my wife now.

Did he know my plan?

Fine, I thought.

But I had a different idea. *

Day 7:

Dimitri isn't talking to me right now, actually. I have just told him about how we should try to keep to ourselves until the government gives us some solid news, and he got offended by it. He even said that we should try not to run into each other when we had to do our rounds and I said fine and he went off and I have not seen him for the last seven hours.

Nausea’s gone and I’m not losing any blood now.

But Dimitri is not looking any better.

It ain’t me, but I am beginning to think he wants me to believe that he is innocent in all this.

This might just be a test, in my opinion. something emotional and psychological to see how long we can survive. Well, it’s been one week since this all started and I feel so much better. I’m so better now. So better than before.

*

Day 10:

I will have to be much more detailed in this particular entry.

Dimitri has stopped going around. I am unable to provide a conclusive proof of this, but the troubleshooting tools that we share have identified the areas that he typically examines. I have heard him in the kitchen and in his room, but I think that he was to just be on his own and not bother with his responsibilities. I am making a full report on this when we return.

Additionally, I am aware that he is altering the food. I can taste it without tasting it.

No word on that either.

And I have not completed my duties.

Spring cannot come soon enough. One last thing: I could swear there was another crew member aboard, so it must have been a trick of the eye. Although it was too short to be Dimitri, I can safely assume that it was someone else in cosmonaut gear. Or was that one of ours? How would they hide like that and not be noticed?

I will investigate.

*

Day 12:

Her name is Laura and she claims she has been onboard this whole time.

Dimitri has stated that he also sees her. I made him look and he said that he must have missed her when doing the rounds.

I will need to report this... I think.

We really do not know what to think and we are happy to have someone else on the station.

Ground control has not commented on this. I believe she enjoys me. *

Day 15:

Laura has a plan, too.

My nosebleeds have returned, and Dimitri looks like death. Since I didn't give him much, he should still be fine. He must be tested by me on this. He appears to be getting thinner and thinner regardless of what he eats. It might be inevitable that we have to stay up here, but at least we have her.

Interesting thing is that she can speak both of our languages, and we have decided to…share her. This is also uncontested. When beggars cannot be choosy…

She has just left me and I feel very lightheaded and happy.

Things are better.

It will be lovely, too.

Soon; very soon.

*

Day ?:

We are now here. And we're headed home! I had to put something in Dimitri’s food to get him to relax as Laura explained how we would return home. I already know that they can fix whatever he gave me when we get back.

She explained that the airlock would be faster for the return trip home, despite my doubts that it was the best option. won't even require our suits to complete it. She doesn’t have hers. In fact, as brave as I suspected she was, I did not expect her to do this nude. Despite Dimitri's refusal, I considered, "Why not?" Who really cares if we're dressed appropriately if we're returning to our homes in the middle of a war zone? This last entry will be saved by the station’s computer. I can manually open up the doors once I’m done.

And the timing is just right. All that blood and Dimitri feeling colder and colder by the minute. Will he be okay travelling in a wheelchair?

She thinks so.

I believe Laura is in a hurry and wants me to complete my mission before I return because she doesn't talk much. I just hope they will accept my disobedience to an order. I just want us all to be better.

So much better.

It really is lovely this time of year.

*

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You can find more poems, stories, and articles by Kendall Defoe on my Vocal profile. Like everyone else, I complain, argue, provoke, and create.

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