The Calculating Stars (Lady Astronaut Universe, #1)

by Mary Robinette Kowal

we used to go up there for stargazing. By which I mean: sex. Oh, don’t pretend that you’re shocked. Nathaniel and I were a healthy young married couple, so most of the stars I saw were painted across the inside of my eyelids.

Without a plane, what was I supposed to do? Math the problem to death?

But if I didn’t know, then I could still hope. And hope would kill me.

This man … he must have escaped Germany, only to have this happen when he thought he was safe. And yet, he had survived. As had I. That’s what we did. We survived. And we remembered.

The custom against speaking to someone in mourning until they spoke first had never made so much sense. I could not have spoken if I had tried. And, I suspect, neither could he.

My husband was a good man. He believed in me. And he also had a huge blind spot, because he didn’t see how people would ignore what I said until he repeated it.

It is time, gentlemen, to colonize outer space.”

“Yes. Marriage, too, is a threshold between Before and After. We have many of these, every day, which we do not recognize. The threshold is not the question. There will always be Befores and Afters. The question is: what do you do after you cross that threshold?”

“You live. You remember. This is what our people have always done.”

“Besides … that went better than I thought it would.” I laughed, relief making it too loud. “I can’t see how.” She cocked her head, and her smile didn’t change, but the meaning of it did. “You apologized.”

“According to Clemons, President Brannan said that his daughter asked him why she couldn’t be an astronaut.”

“That’s nice.” Which is Southern for “fuck that.”

“Still. You make math seem interesting.” “Well, it is.” I shrugged. “Oh, I know it isn’t for most folks, but I think they’ve just been put off by people who taught them to be afraid of numbers.”

So thank you for giving me a place where I can be awful, and find my way back again.”

They certainly didn’t see the memory of the year that I tried to hang myself.

“Tissues, check. Confirmed tissues are Go.”

“Well, then. It sounds like the future will be a wonderful place.”

Nathaniel came up behind me and draped an arm over my shoulder. “I can tell these are your friends, because they’re excited about taking tests.” He kissed my cheek and raised his glass. “Congratulations, ladies. Here’s to the stars.” Laughing, I clinked my glass against my friends’. “Better yet: Here’s to the Lady Astronaut Club.”

So I was relieved when Hidden Figures came out, because it was a step toward putting these women back into the histories they were erased from.