The cold weather in Taryga clears all other thoughts from Windsong's mind, and the happenings of the research institute seem distant amid the snowy mountains.
It's already the end of her second month here.
Windsong: Today marks the 32nd day of our exploration.
A new mine has been found at the pass of the mountain known by the locals as "Bear Mountain."
Windsong: Urgh. I can't stop shivering. No heating, no hot water. Taryga is cruel. I better ask the gatekeeper to bring me more firewood.
She pulls the blanket tighter around her shoulders.
Windsong: Aside from that ...
She dips her pen in the ink bottle.
Windsong: We also found a group of critters, which the locals refer to as "shamama," during our mining.
Windsong: After thoroughly examining their feathers and excrement and observing their habits and behaviors over a period of time,
I believe these shamamas are a variant of the long-extinct critters, the "domovoy."
Windsong: With much effort, we have successfully relocated them to a new reservation.
Windsong: Thank you, Sofia. I wouldn't have been able to identify the shamamas without your help.
She's writing to Sofia, a researcher who previously shared information about critters local to Taryga with her.
Their correspondence is piled high on the table.
Windsong: Boy, that's already quite a stack. How many letters have we written?
She pulls the letters closer to her and counts them one by one.
Windsong: Oh, there aren't a huge number; it's just that each of them is quite chunky.
Windsong: I totally get it, Sofia. Living in a place where the mailman only comes once a fortnight and cramming as much info into each letter as possible.
Windsong: We've never quite managed to squeeze our theories into just one page, have we?
Today's letter, however, is concise.
Windsong: I've received news that my paper has been successfully published. Can't wait to catch up with you in Yakutsk.
Upon writing the last word, she sets the letter aside to let the ink dry.
Windsong: Yakutsk. Some say it's even colder than here. Oof. But Sofia and those ovinniks are there. Definitely worth a visit.
Windsong: Ovinnik? Is that the name?
Straightening up in her chair, she picks up one of the letters to check.
Windsong: Hah. Funny that I've never noticed this.
Windsong: "Dear Comrade Ekaterina," comma, "regarding the critters you found" ... "Dear Comrade," comma, "in response to the previous questions on ley lines" ...
Windsong: Not exactly the "so glad to hear from you," "take care and stay warm," "yours faithfully" type, are you, Sofia? Always straight to the point.
Windsong: If you wore a pair of thick glasses, you'd be a real "Professor Stoneface."
Amused by the thought, she folds the letter and puts it in a new envelope.
Windsong: Leave it at the door, please! And could I also get some more firewood?
???: I have a letter for you, Comrade Ekaterina!
Windsong: A letter? Today?
Windsong: For me? From whom?
Mailman: The Ley Line Institute.
Windsong: I see. Thank you.
Windsong: ...
Windsong: A complaint letter about me? From Frankfurt?
Windsong: Frankfurt ... Yelena?
The old notice board, the smell of ink, and the conversation about sausages and apple wine suddenly come back to her.
Windsong: Could this have anything to do with her?
The letter gives no direct answer.
Mailman: Do you have anything to mail? If not, I'll leave you to your business.
Windsong: Ah, wait a moment, comrade!
Windsong: Is there a bus leaving for this address today? It's urgent.
Yelena and Alexei stand in the office, muttering to each other with grave expressions on their faces.
Windsong: What on earth is going on, Comrade Yelena?!
They immediately turn toward the sound.
Yelena: Oh, it's you, Ekaterina! Don't worry, I have everything under control. It won't cause you any trouble.
Windsong: Why? Why was I on your bid document? We aren't even in the same group!
Yelena: I was trying to secure more funding, so I listed you as a co-author of the report. I should have talked to you first. But none of us would be in trouble if he hadn't filed the complaint to get back at me!
Windsong: Who?
Yelena: Some hotel owner in Frankfurt. He asked us to check if there were any gold mines beneath his hot spring.
Windsong: And did you promise him anything?
Yelena: I ... Oh, Ekaterina ... I ... I didn't really promise him anything.
Windsong: ...
She stares at Yelena in both disappointment and anger.
Yelena: Don't give me that look. Please, Ekaterina. I said I'd handle it carefully and make sure your reputation remains intact.
Yelena: Look, I made a mistake. I'll make it up to you. Take a look at this.
Yelena: It's different this time—there's really something worth studying!
Yelena: Comrade Tristan Lisov's just pointed us in a new direction—the ocean has limitless possibilities lying within it. Professor Vladmir Ivanov's also on board, and he hopes you can join us, too.
Windsong: But what's there to investigate? Oil and gas? Mapping continental shelves? They hardly make a strong research topic, and you certainly don't need so many ley hunters to research them.
Alexei: But don't you want to meet Comrade Lisov in person?
Alexei: You don't get to meet the experts from the Academy of Sciences every day! Make a good impression, and it might help with your future funding. You never know.
Yelena: He's right, Ekaterina. Let's go together, shall we? I owe you one after all this.
Windsong: The ocean? I don't ...
Yelena: It's all about seizing the right opportunity, and trust me, Ekaterina, this is it!
Windsong: No, Yelena, listen.
Yelena continues to speak, but Windsong only finds her voice increasingly unbearable.
Windsong: Yelena!
She throws the letter to Yelena's feet.
Windsong: Could you just take one moment and think this through? Is this really the right thing to do?
Yelena exchanges a helpless look with Alexei.
Yelena: What do you want to do, then?
Windsong opens her mouth; all of a sudden, she hesitates.
Windsong: I just want to focus on my project.
Windsong: No novel ideas and directions; no fawning over well-connected people.
She looks straight into their eyes. They are wide with surprise.
Windsong: Good luck finding someone who shares your vision.
Yelena: ...
Yelena: Do you really mean that, Comrade Ekaterina?
Alexei: Old Nik doesn't know any better.
The silence among them becomes stifling.
Alexei: You can't stay in your little bubble forever. There's a lot happening out there, and you can't escape from it by wandering in the wilderness.
Yelena: Do you have any idea how hard it is to publish a paper these days?
Alexei: You've got to earn Professor Ivanov's trust—to win him over. Then he'll bring up your name to Dean Lisov, or maybe even introduce you to him in person.
Alexei: Getting there requires talent, wealth, and social skills. Otherwise, who knows how long your paper will sit at the bottom of their drawer?
Alexei: Well, maybe not that long. Someone else will probably beat you to publishing your idea.
Windsong: Old Nik never warned me about any of this.
Yelena: That's why Old Nik is always Old Nik, not Professor Nikola or Director Nikola.
Yelena: He's never been credited as the first author of a paper.
Windsong: No. This is a sheer violation of academic integrity.
Yelena: Academic integrity? What's the point of valuing integrity if the subject barely exists anymore?
Yelena: We've found no new theories, theorems, or laws. We've just been verifying the existing ones, telling the world what it already knows.
Yelena: No one knows this subject better than we do. And we all know there's nothing sophisticated about it.
Yelena: At best, it's just a tool serving other subjects. You must understand that better than any of us!
Windsong: ...
With just a slight turn of her head, Windsong can see the notice board beside them.
She remembers those projects—the history written on the fragile yellowed papers.
Windsong: No. I've made up my mind. I don't want to be a part of this.
Windsong: And please don't add my name to any more of your lists, Comrade Yelena.
Alexei: Wait, Ekaterina. You can't just leave.
Windsong: What is it?
Alexei: If you insist on not participating, you have to tell the professor yourself.
Windsong: ...
Windsong: Fine. I'll talk to him.
"Knock-knock."
Professor Ivanov: Come in.
Windsong: Sir, is it a good time?
Professor Ivanov: I was expecting you, Ekaterina! Your paper on Taryga was truly impressive—a valuable case study indeed!
Putting the journal aside, Professor Ivanov greets her with a warm smile.
Professor Ivanov: Comrade Tristan Lisov has also read your paper. He told me he's looking forward to seeing more of your work on the upcoming project.
Professor Ivanov: That is why you're here, is it not?
He gestures to the chair across the table, then pours some tea into the cup in front of it.
Windsong: Yes, sir. I appreciate your and Comrade Lisov's recognition of my work, but ...
Windsong: I won't be joining you in this new project.
Professor Ivanov: Why? It's a good opportunity.
He pauses, still holding the teapot in his hands.
Windsong: I understand that, but I've decided on my next topic.
She hands him a crumpled envelope. The professor pulls out a thick stack of papers from it.
Professor Ivanov: What is this?
He takes the glasses from his pocket, puts them on, and peers at the letter.
His eyebrows knit together as he reads, his eyes scanning from left to right. After a moment, he puts the letter down.
Professor Ivanov: "Ovinnik"?
Windsong: Yes, sir.
He takes on a somber countenance.
Professor Ivanov: Comrade Ekaterina, I trust you to be a person of reason. There's simply no other project more promising than the Ocean Project.
Professor Ivanov: It's led by the founding father of our subject. Anyone who writes a paper under him will undoubtedly take a significant step up the academic ladder.
Windsong: Yes, I have no doubt about that.
Professor Ivanov: Then why would you give up such a valuable opportunity and choose to work in the north with some nobody instead?
Windsong: Valuable ...
Windsong: Yakutsk has its value too, sir.
Professor Ivanov: Yes, an interdisciplinary study on critter ecology. That could be interesting, but ...
Professor Ivanov: What will that project give you?
Professor Ivanov: You're on the upswing of your career thanks to your paper on Taryga. It's the perfect time to build connections in academia.
Professor Ivanov: But what you have here doesn't look optimistic to me. You're a smart girl, Ekaterina. Act like one.
Windsong: Connections? Is that what this project is for? Do you genuinely believe it's good for my career, or are you just trying to keep everyone in line?
For a moment, the professor seems puzzled.
Professor Ivanov: Comrade Ekaterina, if you really want to advance in this field ...
Professor Ivanov: ... you'll find yourself at a disadvantage if you haven't participated in any projects primarily focused on ley lines.
Professor Ivanov: You know as well as I do that there hasn't been a ley line project as significant as this one since 1982.
Professor Ivanov: If this project succeeds, the credibility of the study of ley lines will skyrocket, as will the recognition of the researchers who have contributed to it.
Windsong: With all due respect, sir, all I see is a group of people who share the same passion for meeting Comrade Lisov. Credibility doesn't seem to interest them all that much.
Windsong: I don't see any diligence here, just a thirst for fame.
Windsong: Your valuations are all wrong, Professor.
The professor simply shrugs at her sharp comments.
Professor Ivanov: To tell the truth, I felt the same way when I was a young researcher myself, Comrade Ekaterina.
Professor Ivanov: I still remember my first meeting with Comrade Lisov. My mentor gave me a fancy foreign magazine to bring along as a gift. I was terrified. It wasn't easy to get one of those back then, and I could tell it was expensive.
Professor Ivanov: But Comrade Lisov was very kind to me. We talked like old friends. He appreciated the magazine and introduced me to many other researchers in the following years.
Professor Ivanov: It's a much faster way to find your footing in this circle than publishing papers year after year.
Professor Ivanov: You have to understand that if he agrees to endorse your research and introduce you to his connections, you'll effectively have his reputation added to yours.
Professor Ivanov: People will hold you in higher regard because of it.
Professor Ivanov: You'll be able to research whatever topic you like, and people will come to you for collaboration instead of you groveling to them for a job. Don't overthink it.
Professor Ivanov: It's simply a social obligation. No different from greeting your neighbors when you move to a new community.
Professor Ivanov: Don't let emotions blind you, Comrade Ekaterina. Trust me now, and you'll see its rationale in the years to come.
Professor Ivanov: It's wisest to leave this project of yours be.
He folds up the letter, puts it back into the envelope, and goes to toss it in the paper bin.
Windsong: No.
She snatches the envelope from his hand.
Windsong: Sorry, sir. It's not just an invitation letter. My experiment data's in there, too.
Professor Ivanov: Will you join us, then?
Windsong: ...
The look on her face answers his question.
Professor Ivanov: sigh You still don't understand.
Windsong: The sea breeze may be refreshing, Professor Ivanov, but only the northern mountain wind can cool this hothead.
He sighs, looking down at his empty hands. He places them on the desk in resignation.
Professor Ivanov: You have ambition. That's good.
Professor Ivanov: If I had a goal as clear as yours in my 20s, I wouldn't have listened to a word anyone said either.
Professor Ivanov: And now I'm much too old to pursue any ambitions.
Professor Ivanov: Off you go, Ekaterina. You are still young and free.
He gestures toward the door.
Windsong: Thank you, Professor.
Too disappointed to say anything else, he just nods in response.