Vita Nostra by Marina Dyachenko, Sergey Dyachenko Page A

laboratory, where young boys and girls are subjected to experiments that turn them into cripples. Then she calmed down and was able to see some benefit in her situation: what if she were to be taught something amazing, what if Farit Kozhennikov was an alien, and she would have a chance to see other planets…
    All night the dormitory had been awake: people yelled, sang songs accompanied by guitar chords, a boom box thundered somewhere. Every now and then somebody stamped down the corridor, this way and then the other. Somebody called for his friends out of the window. Somebody laughed uncontrollably. Going mad with insomnia, Sasha finally plunged into unconsciousness and dreamed strange dreams. At half past six Oksana started rustling her plastic bags, filling the room with the smell of pickles, and that rustling and the smell forced Sasha wide awake.
    And now she watched the screen. The film was ancient, older than Sasha herself; the narrator’s voice in the old sound system made her ears pop, but no matter how hard she tried, Sasha heard nothing new or at least informative. Torpa is a beautiful ancient city. Tradition of higher education. Youth stepping into the adult life. Et cetera, et cetera. Black and white frames replaced each other: the streets of Torpa, really quite picturesque. Swans in the fountain. Institute’s façade, the dormitory’s façade, the glass dome over the equestrian statue. The voice pontificated on the importance of a properly chosen higher education facility, and how this affects one’s employment and career, talked about young specialists who graduate from the school annually, about life in the dormitory, about glorious traditions—the words were familiar and amorphous, they could be placed in any desired combination without losing any meaning. Sasha was caught off-guard when the film ended suddenly, the screen darkened, and the lights came back on.
    First years squinted, exchanged glances, and shrugged. Portnov took a long stride across the stage, stopped at its edge and laced his hands behind his back.
    “This concludes the official part of the proceedings. Let’s start our work. This year, thirty-nine first year students have been accepted, which makes two groups. Let’s call them Group A and Group B. Just like high school. Understood?
    First years were silent.
    “Students, whose mentors are Liliya Popova and Farit Kozhennikov, please come up.”
    Sasha swallowed and remained seated. Lisa walked up the squeaky stairs, nervously smoothed out her very short skirt and stood to the side. A tall guy whom Sasha saw at the dining hall stood next to her. A student elbowed his way out of the center seat and stumbled over Sasha’s feet.
    “Should we go?” Kostya asked quietly.
    Sasha got up.
    The stage was wide; nineteen people could have spread out from curtain to curtain, holding hands. But everyone huddled together, as if trying to hide behind each other’s back.
    “Allow me to introduce first years, Group A,” Portnov motioned towards the stage. “Please welcome Group A.”
    Someone in the audience clapped a few times.
    “Your schedule will be posted right after the first block. Group B that is now sitting in the audience will be going to Physical Education, the gym is on the third floor, class starts in five minutes. Your second block is Specialty; we’ll meet then and have a chance to chat. Group A has Specialty during the first block in Auditorium number 1. Everyone, please proceed to your assigned blocks. You have four minutes, tardiness is not appreciated.
    Portnov stepped down the squeaky steps and left the hall through the side entrance. Lisa moved back and smoothed out her mini-skirt again. Sasha was shocked by the length of Lisa’s legs.
    “Sasha!”
    Sasha looked back. Oksana, still wearing the same jersey sweater, was waving to her from the audience.
    “We’re going to be in different groups, that’s a shame, isn’t it?”
    “Off to the gym…” somebody