“Oh, don’t worry, Mrs. von Meyer Rhodes. That one was launched from the other platform. You weren’t in any danger today.”
Nothing went the way we planned. Yet another launch had failed, and instead of taking the afternoon off with us, Karl and Jürgen were both called into meetings. The afternoon dragged by, and as the sun began to set, Lydia and I were told we’d be shepherded back to the hotel in Rügen.
“Do you think I’ll get to see Jürgen at all?” I asked Lydia miserably.
“Maybe later,” she said gently. “You know the work must come first.”
At the hotel lobby, she dealt with the staff, checking us into our rooms, arranging for our bags to be ferried inside.
“I’ve organized for a meal to be brought to you. Why don’t you take a hot bath and get into bed? I know you’re keen to see Jürgen, but you really need to rest. I’m just a few doors down if you need me.”
I considered the bath, knowing the hot water would be blissful against my bones, but when I stared at the little tub, I realized I’d be unlikely to get back out on my own even if I did manage to fit inside.
Instead, I nibbled at the food Lydia arranged and then sat on the bed and waited for Jürgen. I thought about the launch and the crater and the millions of questions I wanted to ask him—but we’d have to assume someone was listening in on the hotel room. Once again, we’d be whispering under blankets.
At this realization, tears filled my eyes. I flicked the wireless on to mask the sound, then lay on the bed to weep. What would it be like to be in some far-flung city when a rocket like that came out of nowhere? The technology couldn’t have advanced enough that the rocket would know which building to land on. What if one landed on a school?
It was all too terrible to be real, and too ugly to be the brainchild of my beautiful, sensitive husband. I curled myself around my belly and cried until I fell asleep.
I woke to the sound of a key in the lock, and Jürgen was inside by the time I pushed myself into a seated position. I stared at him with bleary eyes, noticing that he looked every bit as tired as I felt. I tried to get off the bed to run to him, but my belly got in the way.
“My, haven’t you grown?” Jürgen said, laughing softly as he set a little overnight bag down on the floor, then rushed to my side. He dropped to his knees beside the bed and placed his hands tenderly on my belly. But then he paused, and he lifted his eyes to mine.
“You are so beautiful, Sofie.”
I started to cry again—tears of exhaustion and relief and fear.
“I’m a mess,” I choked out.
“Even a mess, my love. You are beautiful. I’ve missed you so much,” he whispered.
“I miss you too,” I whispered back.
There was no need to whisper. We were only saying what a husband and wife would be expected to say after two months apart. But there was every need to whisper, because this was a moment just between him and me. It was far too precious to be shared with anyone else.
Later, lying under the covers, I resisted the pull of sleep, determined to make the most of every second with Jürgen. I pulled the blankets over our heads and snuggled as close to Jürgen as my belly would allow.
“The rockets really are huge flying bombs now, aren’t they?” I whispered.
“They have no intention of a space mission,” he admitted.
“When did you realize that?”
“Around the same time we tried to run away.”
“Oh.”
“A space mission would be the work of visionaries. It is well evident by now that these men are not that.”
“What went wrong today?” I whispered.
“Are you really interested?”
“I am,” I said, throat tight. “I’m sorry. I’ve underestimated your work so badly, Jürgen. I underestimated you.”
I started to cry, and his arm contracted around me.
“Sofie, it’s okay. Truly,” he whispered, his breath hot on my ear. “My love, even Otto underestimates this technology sometimes. We’ve made decades’ worth of progress in just a few short years. It’s okay that you’re not up-to-date with every detail. There is so much secrecy, Sofie. I wouldn’t always tell you even if you asked.”
“I feel like we’re living completely different lives.”
“It can’t be helped.”
“What went wrong today?”
“Technical problems too complex to explain to you when we are both this tired.”