Windsong: The time is ... 8:29. Ekaterina. Clocked in.
Windsong tosses the pen aside. It dangles from the string attaching it to the sign-in board.
Windsong: Has it only been three months? It feels like twice as long.
Windsong: yawn We're moving onto stage 3 today.
She yawns deeply.
Old Nikola: ...
Windsong: yawning
She has no time to rest, but the drowsiness is only getting stronger.
Windsong: Ah! Ah! My jaw! Oh. I thought I dislocated it for a second.
Old Nikola: ...
Old Nikola: Ahem!
He pinches the bridge of his nose in irritation.
Old Nikola: Comrade Ekaterina! Over here!
Windsong: Yes!
Old Nikola aligns the papers on the desk and sets them aside.
Old Nikola: I've read your paper. Not too bad for a first draft. I've made a few notes that might be helpful to you.
Old Nikola: When did you leave the lab last night?
Windsong: A little after 2 a.m., Comrade Nikola. I made sure to clock out before I left.
Old Nikola: Then, when can I see that lab report?
Windsong: Before the end of today.
Old Nikola: Today? I don't think so. Your schedule's packed.
Windsong: Is it? What am I going to do?
Old Nikola: Pack your things.
Windsong: ...?
Windsong: Why, Old Nik? I thought you liked my paper! You can't just flip the switch and start hating me because I yawned a few times—or can you?
Old Nikola: What did you just call me?
Windsong: Ahem. Sorry, sir.
Old Nikola: Why do you think there's no one in the lab at this hour?
Windsong: Well ...
Windsong: Oh!
The researchers are all crowded in front of the notice board. The project bid results have been released.
Windsong: I completely forgot!
Old Nikola: Go take a look. You did well on that proposal. They'd be smart to have you on their list. And if they don't, you still have your spot on the Arctic expedition team.
Old Nikola: Have a look at mine for me, too. If you're not too busy celebrating any good news, that is.
Windsong: Sure thing.
The board is layered with papers detailing old announcements. The latest one is pinned on top, listing the projects that have been granted national funding.
Windsong: Please, I have to get through. Sorry.
She can't see past the crowd in any direction.
Yelena: Is that you, Comrade Ekaterina? Want a sip? It's vodka. You must've been put through a lot working with Old Nik.
Windsong: I'm okay. Ouch! That's my foot!
Assistant Researcher I: Sorry, comrade.
The crowd pushes her around. She holds onto Yelena's sleeve to keep herself from falling.
Yelena: We're packed tighter than a can of sardines here. We shouldn't have come so early. Alright, let me see. Where's our Ekaterina's hamster project?
Windsong: Gerbils, Comrade Yelena. They're gerbils, not hamsters.
Yelena: Yeah, yeah, I hear you. Gerbils, gerbils ... I don't see any gerbils here. Oh, there's your name. You're going to Taryga?!
More people push in, squeezing them out of the crowd. Windsong notices that most of the people who are already leaving have satisfied smiles on their faces. Clearly, they are content with the outcome.
Yelena: You can't be serious, Comrade Ekaterina. Maybe you got the destination wrong after staying up late all week?
Yelena: All the effort you put into that bid document just to be assigned to Taryga, the place where even vultures struggle to survive!
Windsong: Yes, Comrade Yelena. I've read some interesting accounts about that place. It's calling out for exploration.
Yelena: So you'll ride a goat across the mountains to become a shaman queen in the wilderness? Oh, my Ekaterina.
Yelena dramatically buries her face in her hands, unable to fathom the hardship.
Windsong: Don't worry about me. Were you selected too?
Yelena: Yes, I'm going to Frankfurt.
Windsong: Definitely an upgrade from Taryga.
Windsong: What's happening over there?
Yelena: Ah, it's Alexei and the boys. Seems like they won the bid, too.
Windsong: Alexei? I thought he was working for—
Yelena: Oh, Ekaterina, you really should come to the pub with us more often! You've missed out on everything!
Yelena: He left the Kolaria Superdeep Borehole Project a while ago. Now he's his own boss, running a project with his own people.
Yelena: What's it called? Something like "A Ley-Line Perspective on Quantum Field Theory and Its Application in Energy Conversion and Transmission" ... Oof, quite the mouthful.
Windsong: Quantum field theory? But we don't have an optical lab here. Where are they going to do the experiments?
Yelena: Who knows. I'm sure Alexei will find a way—you know, with help from his family.
Yelena: His old man wouldn't bat an eye at the bill required to build a new lab.
Yelena: You wait and see. With his articles getting published one after another, there's no doubt that he'll be made director of some department soon.
Yelena: And there's no other discipline that gets as much love from the journal editors as ours does.
Yelena: People put a lot of faith in ley lines, you see.
Windsong: But ...
Yelena: But people like Old Nik can't stand when academics cut corners, so you never would've heard any of this from him.
Windsong: I see your point, Comrade Yelena.
Yelena: I know what you're trying to say—that passion from the populace can sometimes be a threat to scientific rigor. But it also gives us an edge, don't you think?
Yelena: Do you remember that village we visited? The chief must be a Varangian. Stubborn guy.
Yelena: But even he granted us permission to explore near their village when we said we were ley hunters.
Windsong: Yes, but that was because he wanted us to see if there were gold mines or oil beneath their village.
Yelena: Yes, my dear Ekaterina, and we'd probably still be enjoying the saunas in their banya if you hadn't broken the truth to him so quickly!
Yelena: But let's not argue over the past. In the end, we successfully completed the task and gathered enough materials for the report, didn't we?
Yelena: It's true the chief didn't get the news he wanted, but at least we secured our spots in the institute. And it was all thanks to that report.
She recalls the chief's furious expression and piercing gaze. He had looked at them as if they were a pair of frauds. The memory sends shivers down her spine.
Windsong: Well, what are you going to do in Frankfurt, then?
Yelena: There's a new project on hydrothermal mineral deposits. And I've had enough of the cold up here in the north. It's time to go somewhere warmer for a change.
Windsong: Sounds good. I heard they have some nice hot springs there. Maybe you can give them a try.
Yelena gives a joyful smile.
Yelena: You always give the best advice, Ekaterina. I'll be sure to keep an eye out for any gifts. Maybe I can bring you something back.
Windsong: Sausages or some apple wine would be perfect. How about you? Would you like a bear cub from the north?
Yelena: Hahaha, you can spare me that one! Take care. We won't be seeing each other much for a while.
They lightly touch cheeks, and Windsong watches Yelena stride away.
She realizes that the hallway has become quiet again.
Having checked their results, the crowd has long gone.
But Windsong has one more thing to check.
She doesn't see Old Nik's name on the first page, so she flips to the next, and then the next, until she finally finds his project on the last sheet. Then she notices the yellowing papers beneath.
Windsong: "Sustainable Agriculture in Developing Countries: A Ley Line Analysis," "A Ley Line Perspective on Efficiency in Heavy Industry and Optimization" ...
Windsong: "Prospect and Development," "Theory and Applications" ...
Windsong: ...
Windsong: This is the work of every ley hunter in this institution.
She runs her fingers along the pages, finally coming to a stop on the oldest one.
Windsong: Here lies the history of ley lines.
She mutters to herself.
Windsong: So many people have tried so many things—and all at the same time—simultaneously exploring the possibilities of applying ley lines to all kinds of disciplines.
Windsong: But, why? Most of these attempts seem to have only scratched the surface.
She goes through them all again.
Windsong: Many of them were given up when the researchers encountered the first few obstacles. It's like they never even intended to dig deeper into the subject.
Windsong: Two ... Maybe three? There are no more than three topics within the same area of research.
Windsong: Maybe they'll come back to them when they have more data. It's still a young subject, after all.
Windsong: But ...
Windsong: So much talent and brainpower has been diverted to all these different areas.
Windsong: If we'd just worked together more, we'd probably have a wealth of knowledge by now.
Windsong: No wonder Old Nik doesn't like it here.
