Part 8 (1/2)

”From the material they handed out to prepare us for our study trip.”

”And you are what ... a student?”

”I'm a house painter.” She noted the exchange of glances between the two men.

”I'm afraid I may be intruding,” said Lyus.h.i.+n, as though it weren't obvious.

”We were trying to take a nap,” Anna said coolly.

”How about something to drink?” Before Bulyagkov could stand up, Anna had already grabbed the bottle from the shelf; the blanket slipped off her shoulder.

”Let's sit down.” He poured the drinks, and Anna slid onto the settle.

Lyus.h.i.+n remained on his feet while he tossed back his first gla.s.s. ”My place isn't so comfortable,” he said.

”That's because you've got skis standing around everywhere.” Alexey clinked gla.s.ses with Anna. ”Professor Lyus.h.i.+n was the Soviet champion in the triathlon.”

”In the days of my youth.” Without hesitation, he sat next to Anna.

”Where do you ski?” she asked, although she guessed the answer.

”Across the river.” Lyus.h.i.+n indicated the direction with his head. ”There's a first-cla.s.s cross-country course. You can even ski it at night.”

”I thought scientists were on the whole ... unathletic people.”

”Stupid prejudice. Most of the ones here are ace athletes. You should see the river in summer. Covered with sails, and water-skiing is the latest rage.” He poured himself another drink. ”We even have a soccer team. They have a game soon against the atomic city of Novosibirsk.”

”In summer, it's really ...” Alexey sought the right word. ”It's really idyllic here. Twenty years ago, this area was uninhabited.”

”Why was Dubna built here, of all places?” Anna was conscious of the unreal situation. The nuclear scientist and the Deputy Minister were sitting on either side of a woman wearing a woolen blanket. She nodded to one and then to the other, as her two male companions took turns telling the story of Dubna's early years. The place called Novo-Ivankovo lay in the area later to be submerged when the ”Moscow Sea” (the Ivankovo Reservoir) was filled. Novo-Ivankovo was torn down and rebuilt stone by stone next to Dubna; after that, the waters that would form the reservoir came pouring into the valley. Today, the reservoir's gigantic power plant provided electricity to the capital as well as Dubna itself.

”The people of Moscow were nervous,” Lyus.h.i.+n said. ”In those days, not very much was yet known about the power of the atom.” He tilted his head to one side. ”For reasons of radiation safety, Dubna had to be sufficiently far from the capital, which is why they drained the swamp where the city now stands.” He asked Anna what facilities the delegation had visited; Anna named the cyclotron, the nuclear spectroscopy laboratory, and the worksite where the phasotron was being built. Then she asked, ”Why can't we visit your department?”

”We're the ugly ducklings of scientific research,” Lyus.h.i.+n said, wheeling his gla.s.s on the table edge. ”Nothing radiates where we are; no circulating particles approach the speed of light. We just sit with our slide rules and try to get our teeth into the uncertainty principle.”

”You can imagine it in more modern terms,” Alexey said to Anna. ”These days they use big computers instead of slide rules.”

”Otherwise, however, little has changed since Bohr and Heisenberg,” Lyus.h.i.+n insisted.

”What are you working on?” The question was out before Anna could consider the consequences. The two men looked at each other. She expected to hear something about state secrets and security regulations.

”The probability that nucleons will be present in a localized region of s.p.a.ce,” said Lyus.h.i.+n, as naturally as if he were giving out a cooking recipe. ”If e is smaller than v, then the probability of presence tends toward zero. Therefore, the kinetic energy would be negative and the speed imaginary, which is of course nonsense, and nevertheless, the energy values are positive.”

”All right, now we know,” Bulyagkov said with a smile. ”And now you understand why your bus keeps driving past the theoretical physics building without stopping.”

”It's too bad, all the same,” said Lyus.h.i.+n. His face lit up. ”We have a beautiful new coffee machine. That alone would be worth a visit.”

”I'd like to learn more about the subject,” Anna said, her back turned to Alexey.

”Do you have some understanding of quantum mechanics?” Again, the men exchanged surprised looks.

”I've read about electron diffraction.”

”Tell us.” It wasn't so much an invitation to take a pop quiz as the expression of a specialist's amused curiosity at the prospect of having a conversation about his chosen field with a half-naked woman. Anna searched her memory for whatever fragments remained from her perusal of the physics textbook.

”Under certain circ.u.mstances, electrons behave as though they're not particles of matter, but waves.”

”So far, so good,” Lyus.h.i.+n said, nodding.

”But one can't predict whether they'll appear as matter or as waves.”

”Sometimes the d.a.m.ned things behave like both at once,” Lyus.h.i.+n agreed.

”And therefore quantum mechanics can only determine the probability of a particular event, it can't offer a precise result.”

Lyus.h.i.+n smiled at Bulyagkov. ”First semester theoretical physics, pa.s.sing grade,” he said. They clinked gla.s.ses together.

Strangely enough, being consigned to a marginal role in the conversation didn't seem to bother Alexey. He didn't play the master of the house, nor did he encourage the uninvited guest to leave, but rather stood up and fetched another kind of vodka. Meanwhile, Lyus.h.i.+n talked about the angular momentum of composite particles and the quasi-stationary state of neutron spin and ended with a reference to his current work, which concerned the uncertainty principle and perturbation theory. ”An exact solution to the Schrodinger equation can be found only for a few very simple cases,” he said, tousling his hair. ”Most problems lead to series of equations so complicated that they can't be solved exactly. We think approximate calculations are the only way to reach a result, and therefore lower-order terms must simply be left out.” His straw-colored hair was now standing up in all directions.

”And does that work?” Anna posed the decisive question as though it were one of many.

He exhaled forcefully through his nose. ”Do you know what the scientist's three capital Fs are? Failure, failure, and failure.” He sighed and leaned back.

”Have you failed, Professor Lyus.h.i.+n?”

The blond-haired man gazed at her. ”It looks that way at the moment.”

Anna felt Alexey freeze beside her.

”My department must retreat several steps,” Lyus.h.i.+n continued. ”All the way back to an equation that we developed a year and a half ago.”

”That's no failure. It's just a backward step.” She pulled the slipping blanket higher.

”But it costs money,” he said, smiling at her. ”Money that the Ministry for Research Planning doesn't want to make available.” The scientist looked over at Bulyagkov. ”Is she really a house painter?”

”You're surprised?” Alexey asked, grinning. ”She represents the general cultural level of our working men and women!”

Anna stood up and went to get dressed.

”Do you have to leave very soon?” Lyus.h.i.+n called to her. ”I wanted to show you our coffee machine!”

”We're going back to Moscow today. I really can't stay any longer.” She closed the bedroom door and slipped quickly into her clothes. Lyus.h.i.+n offered her a ride back to the hotel.

”I'd better not accept,” she said. She gave Alexey a regretful look, expressing sorrow that their last date had taken such an unusual form, and put on her coat. ”It would be better for me to show up unaccompanied.”

The two men followed her to the door. ”Thanks,” she said as she took her leave. ”Today's lecture was certainly the most interesting of all.” She gave her hand to Lyus.h.i.+n and a fleeting kiss to Alexey, whose relaxed cheerfulness persisted undiminished.