Unforgettable journey to other planets

Dr Giyanu Lamichen the director of the observatory turned out to be a very nice man. He sat Yulia down on a chair and sat next to her.

“You know, Yulia,” he smiled, speaking in English, “this new telescope is not just a new telescope. It’s a new opportunity for us. You must understand that we are very grateful to have you here.”

“Thank you,” Yulia was embarrassed by the high-handedness of the doctor, “it’s just the adjustment of the equipment.”

“No-o-o-o,” Giyanu Lamichen interrupted her abruptly, “simple things are the most valuable.”

Yulia hesitated for a moment and felt a great cloud of responsibility suddenly appear from behind the high mountain of her pride.

“Oh shit,” she thought, “now I’m going to worry if I do everything right, Nepalese you Dr House.”

Dr Lamichen looked at her nonchalantly and nodded to something, and then said that all the antennas were set up and the observatory was already waiting.

Yulia put a bag in the corner of the director’s office and took out the necessary documents, a laptop and a flash drive.

“Then let’s go,” said she in a confident tone.

She went up with the doctor to the observatory and saw seven thin and sickly looking men. They smiled as they looked at her and said in Russian ‘welcome’. Dr Lamichen led Yulia to the healthiest-looking one of them and introduced a balding and tired-looking man with a small gray beard and glasses. He looked about sixty, his face swarthy and smiling. He was dressed in slacks and a sweater over a shirt.

“This is Dr Capri,” Lamichen circled his arm around the man’s torso.

“Welcome to Kathmandu, Yulia,” nodded Dr Capri, “you can call me Tulu-Manchi,” he pointed to a table where many wires and miscellaneous equipment were present, inviting her to come over there.

“Hello,” Yulia nodded, “what stage are you at now?” going towards the table, she asked.

“We installed the telescope according to the instructions last week. Now we have finished installing all the antennas and repeaters along the perimeter of the observatory. All the cables are out here.”

Yulia looked at the table that Dr Capri pointed at and realized that it was an ordinary wooden table, similar to the one her grandmother had in her kitchen. Yulia crinkled her face and saw that the wires were lying tied up with some kind of rope. “God, they don’t even have plastic ties here,” she was horrified.

Yulia sat down at her desk and turned on her laptop, getting ready to work. She checked the chair, which squeaked a little, and logged on to the program.

Dr Capri began plugging in all the cables to the control box that stood nearby. He gently untied the rope and carefully read the numbers on the wires, and then inserted them into the appropriate connector on the control box. Everyone else gathered behind the doctor and Yulia’s backs. They looked on with a sense of deep satisfaction and pride at their unsophisticated work. Yulia felt this anticipatory look of wonder at the workers on her back and whispered to Dr Capri.

“Dr Capri, they know it’s going to take a couple of days to set up, don’t they?”

Tulu-Manchi smiled and said quietly conspiratorially:

“Of course they know, but they’re very patient.”

Yulia realized it was a joke and smiled back, too. Dr Capri turned on the control unit, and different lights began blinking on it. All the workers smiled as they saw this and patted each other on the shoulders.

The doctor, in Nepali, told the workers everything was hooked up and they had all done a good job. One of them would stay in case they need help, and the rest could go home. After a few minutes, the observatory emptied and a tired Dr Tulu-Manchi Capri sat down next to Yulia. He asked her to tell him how she flew and why she chose such a difficult profession.

While the device was being diagnosed they had plenty of time to talk.

Part 1 – Chapter 6

Indira Gandhi Airport in Delhi greeted David with warmth and care. He looked at the sculptures of huge palms that looked like the frozen movements of dancers. “What all those mudras mean?” He bought a ticket to Bagdogra and was already sitting on the plane a few hours later. There were completely different people around, they surprised David and made him feel the spirit of adventure.

Ahead of him awaited the route, which was written down on a scrap of paper lying in his pants pocket. Just the names of the places, the points of the route: “Delhi-Bagdogra-Kalimpong-Rangangang-Yuksom-Kanchenjunga”. Amazing words that until a few days ago meant absolutely nothing to David. He wrote them down, checking every letter. The names seemed so distant and mysterious. No return route, no how to get to these points, no distance, no time. Just a few markers on the path, words that anyone anywhere in the world would be able to understand.

David spent three weeks at his father and Joan’s house. He watched TV, walked around the street, but all the time he felt something tense up inside him more and more. It was as if a huge skyscraper was being built on his chest, and the weight was increasing every day. One evening David sat down at his computer and began to look at a map of the world. “I wanted freedom, after all, and now I’m trapped here like I’m ten again,” David thought. He was already tired of asking himself what he wanted what the plan was, and where to go next. And very tired of similar questions from his father and friends who wrote him letters and messages.

“David, dear,” Joan sat down next to him while he watched another show, “I see you want to make up your mind, get up the courage. Believe me, decisions are the consequences of actions. You see, first the step, then the destination. Just try it.”

“Go to Ireland?” David smiled, glancing at his stepmother.

“And if you’re at all desperate – to Scotland, darling,” remarked Joan.

They watched the show on, but David knew for a fact that the advice was good. For some reason he was scared and didn’t want to crawl out of the hole, which, by the way, he didn’t like at all. But the advice was right – get started.

David sat down at his computer and checked the balance in his bank account. ?4,870 – there they were, the ripe fruits of corporate life and all the severance payments due. He clicked on the world map tab and typed ‘Everest’ into his search string, his heart felt cold. He went to Wikipedia and typed in ‘eight-thousanders’. As he read the article, his eyes jumped over a few lines and froze on the number January 11, 1986. It was the date of his birth. For some reason he was very happy with these numbers. Some pleasant feeling of recognition or anticipation flashed weakly inside him. He remembered all the good things that had happened to him in all the time he had lived on Earth. A feeling of gratitude and lightness filled him. He looked over and read what the date referred to. It was the first winter climb to the third peak in the world called Kanchenjunga. David closed his eyes and smiled with a ‘hmmm’ sound. It wasn’t a decision yet, but he felt that this very minute he was taking that very step. A step toward something.

At dinner, David decided to ask:

“Dad, did you know that two Poles conquered Kanchenjunga in winter on my birthday?”

“About the Poles, no, but about the date, yes. That’s right,” Spencer said thoughtfully.

He had been a climber since his youth and was now working as an industrial alpinist. He often used to take David to Kinder Scout National Nature Reserve to hike the hills and be with nature. For him, the mountains were something of an outlet, though for the past ten years he’d only seen the ropes at work and the mountains on the television horizon only. Even before that, he had only hiked mountains in England.

“Read it somewhere?” Spencer asked his son.

“Yes, it’s surprising.”

“What is?”

“Such a mountain was conquered in winter only a few years ago,” David was sincerely surprised.

“Hmm,” Spencer smiled, sensing that his son was interested in the history of mountaineering. “Yes. I thought you knew about that. I definitely told you. The irony is,” Spencer rubbed his smooth chin, “that the first time Kanchenjunga was climbed by two Englishmen was in the fifties. George Band and Joe Brown, that was their names. And old Joe was from here, from Manchester.”

David smiled. Spencer couldn’t figure out what was wrong with the guy, and thought he was surprised by the coincidence around this very Mount Kanchenjunga, which stands right between Nepal and India. In fact, David felt his doubts disappeared and he was ready to go straight to this mountain to see it for himself. After dinner, he plotted an itinerary and bought a ticket to Delhi.

Spencer tried to explain to his son about the dangers of travel and Indian transport, but when he saw that the ticket had been bought, he simply took out his backpack, which was already covered with dust, and began to dump all the necessary things into it. Joan made a list of things to buy, and Spencer took the day off work to go shopping together. The list was huge, but Spencer circled a few things, emphasizing their importance. Thermal underwear, tent, sleeping bag, water filter…

“Promise me you won’t climb the mountain itself,” Spencer said desperately, right in the middle of the store the day before David left.

“Dad, I just want to see that mountain,” David replied calmly.

Joan stroked Spencer on the back and kept saying “Like father, like son”.

It seemed to David that from that conversation at dinner with his father, to this moment, as he sat here in the plane that would take him to Bagdogra, only a second had passed. And that whole second, from the beginning to this very moment, he was smiling. Smiling at himself and everything that was going on around him.

A voice on the speakerphone said “Dear ladies and gentlemen, please fasten your seat belts…” David closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.

“Step first, then destination,” Joan’s advice rolled around in his head.

Part 1 – Chapter 7