We’re on our way to Dolgoye.”
The face disappeared and the window closed.
“Vitaminders,” said the doctor, shaking his head, with a tired chuckle. “Just our luck to meet up with them.”
But he was pleased: the smooth, sturdy tent, standing firm in the wind, evinced the victory of humanity over the blind elements.
A few long minutes passed and the door finally opened.
“Please enter.”
A thickset Kazakh gestured invitingly. It was obvious that they’d interrupted his meal, though, and that he wasn’t very happy about it.
The doctor and Crouper entered a space that was dimly lit by electric lights and well heated. Two enormous violet Great Danes with sparkling bells on their collars immediately rose from their beds and moved toward them, growling. The dogs’ violet eyes stared at the newcomers, and white teeth sparkled in their snarling pink mouths.
“Shoo!” the Kazakh shouted at the dogs, as he closed the door.
With low growls, the dogs went back to their beds. Nearby were two large gasoline snowmobiles, clothes hung on hooks, and numerous pairs of shoes in neat rows. This was the entryway of the tent. The smell of expensive, precious gasoline, the two snowmobiles, and the two sleek Great Danes had a calming effect upon the doctor, but Crouper felt intimidated. “Take your coats off, make yourselves at home.” The Kazakh bowed slightly to the doctor.
The doctor began undressing and the Kazakh set about helping him.
“My littl’uns need to warm up a tetch.” Crouper took off his hat timidly and smoothed down his soaking-wet hair.
“I’ll ask the bosses in a minute,” replied the Kazakh unflappably, as he continued assisting the doctor.
He helped the doctor pull off his boots and gave him a pair of felt slippers. A Kazakh servant girl wearing a long, brightly colored dress and an embroidered skullcap entered, pulled back a thick curtain with her thin hand, and gestured for the doctor to enter:
“Please, this way.”
The doctor stepped through the opening. Crouper remained standing near the door, hat in hand.
It was brighter and even warmer inside the tent. The large round space with gray walls of the same zoogenous felt gave off a feeling of nomadic comfort as well as the sharp aroma of eastern incense. In the center of the tent, right under the roof vent, three men held court at the traditional low black square table of the Vitaminders. The fourth side of the table was empty. Seven servant girls sat along the wall to one side. The eighth, who had invited the doctor into the tent, quietly took her place with them.
The three men looked at the doctor.
“District doctor, Garin,” said Platon Ilich, nodding at them.
“Bedight, Lull Abai, Slumber,” the Vitaminders introduced themselves, bowing their shaved heads in turn.
Bedight and Slumber had European faces, but Lull Abai was distinctly Asian looking.
“You’ve appeared like an angel from heaven.” The thin, narrow-cheeked Bedight smiled.
“In what sense?” The doctor smiled, wiping his foggy pince-nez.
“We are in desperate need of your help,” Bedight continued.
“Is someone ill?” asked Platon Ilich, casting his gaze about.
“Ill.” Slumber, who had a strong, thickset body, and a simple, almost peasant face, nodded.
“Who is it?”
“Over there.” Bedight nodded. “Our friend Drowsy.”
The doctor turned around. Something lay wrapped in a rug between two of the girls. The girls unfolded the rug and the doctor saw a fourth Vitaminder: he wore a gold collar inset with sparkling superconductors, and his head was shaved. Drowsy’s skull showed numerous abrasions and bruises, and his face was slightly swollen.
The doctor approached him cautiously and looked at him without bending over:
“What happened?”
“He was beaten,” answered Bedight.
“Who did it?”
“We did.”
The doctor looked at Bedight’s intelligent face.
“Why?”
“He lost some expensive things.”
The doctor sighed
The face disappeared and the window closed.
“Vitaminders,” said the doctor, shaking his head, with a tired chuckle. “Just our luck to meet up with them.”
But he was pleased: the smooth, sturdy tent, standing firm in the wind, evinced the victory of humanity over the blind elements.
A few long minutes passed and the door finally opened.
“Please enter.”
A thickset Kazakh gestured invitingly. It was obvious that they’d interrupted his meal, though, and that he wasn’t very happy about it.
The doctor and Crouper entered a space that was dimly lit by electric lights and well heated. Two enormous violet Great Danes with sparkling bells on their collars immediately rose from their beds and moved toward them, growling. The dogs’ violet eyes stared at the newcomers, and white teeth sparkled in their snarling pink mouths.
“Shoo!” the Kazakh shouted at the dogs, as he closed the door.
With low growls, the dogs went back to their beds. Nearby were two large gasoline snowmobiles, clothes hung on hooks, and numerous pairs of shoes in neat rows. This was the entryway of the tent. The smell of expensive, precious gasoline, the two snowmobiles, and the two sleek Great Danes had a calming effect upon the doctor, but Crouper felt intimidated. “Take your coats off, make yourselves at home.” The Kazakh bowed slightly to the doctor.
The doctor began undressing and the Kazakh set about helping him.
“My littl’uns need to warm up a tetch.” Crouper took off his hat timidly and smoothed down his soaking-wet hair.
“I’ll ask the bosses in a minute,” replied the Kazakh unflappably, as he continued assisting the doctor.
He helped the doctor pull off his boots and gave him a pair of felt slippers. A Kazakh servant girl wearing a long, brightly colored dress and an embroidered skullcap entered, pulled back a thick curtain with her thin hand, and gestured for the doctor to enter:
“Please, this way.”
The doctor stepped through the opening. Crouper remained standing near the door, hat in hand.
It was brighter and even warmer inside the tent. The large round space with gray walls of the same zoogenous felt gave off a feeling of nomadic comfort as well as the sharp aroma of eastern incense. In the center of the tent, right under the roof vent, three men held court at the traditional low black square table of the Vitaminders. The fourth side of the table was empty. Seven servant girls sat along the wall to one side. The eighth, who had invited the doctor into the tent, quietly took her place with them.
The three men looked at the doctor.
“District doctor, Garin,” said Platon Ilich, nodding at them.
“Bedight, Lull Abai, Slumber,” the Vitaminders introduced themselves, bowing their shaved heads in turn.
Bedight and Slumber had European faces, but Lull Abai was distinctly Asian looking.
“You’ve appeared like an angel from heaven.” The thin, narrow-cheeked Bedight smiled.
“In what sense?” The doctor smiled, wiping his foggy pince-nez.
“We are in desperate need of your help,” Bedight continued.
“Is someone ill?” asked Platon Ilich, casting his gaze about.
“Ill.” Slumber, who had a strong, thickset body, and a simple, almost peasant face, nodded.
“Who is it?”
“Over there.” Bedight nodded. “Our friend Drowsy.”
The doctor turned around. Something lay wrapped in a rug between two of the girls. The girls unfolded the rug and the doctor saw a fourth Vitaminder: he wore a gold collar inset with sparkling superconductors, and his head was shaved. Drowsy’s skull showed numerous abrasions and bruises, and his face was slightly swollen.
The doctor approached him cautiously and looked at him without bending over:
“What happened?”
“He was beaten,” answered Bedight.
“Who did it?”
“We did.”
The doctor looked at Bedight’s intelligent face.
“Why?”
“He lost some expensive things.”
The doctor sighed
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