"Well, that's just great," I said, trying not to notice Yulia's imploring glance. "I'll go see the boss."

Semyon nodded and turned back toward the girl. As I walked into the boss's reception room, I heard him saying, "So listen, Yulia, I've been doing the same job for sixty years now, but this kind of irresponsible behavior…"

He's strict all right, but he never gives anyone a hard time without good reason, so I wasn't about to rescue Yulia from the conversation.

In the reception area there was a new air conditioner quietly humming away and the ceiling was dotted with tiny halogen bulbs for accent lighting. Larissa was sitting there-evidently Gesar's secretary, Galochka, was on vacation, and our field work coordinators really didn't have much work of their own to do.

"Hello, Anton," Larissa said to me. "You're looking good."

"Two weeks on the beach!" I replied proudly.

Larissa squinted at the clock. "I was told to show you right in. But the boss still has visitors. Will you go in?"

"Yes," I decided. "Seems like I needn't have bothered hurrying."

"Gorodetsky's here to see you, Boris Ignatievich," Larissa said into the intercom. She nodded to me. "Go on in… oh, it's hot in there…"

It really was hot inside Gesar's door. There were two middle-aged men I didn't know languishing in the armchairs in front of his desk-I mentally christened them Thin Man and Fat Man, after Chekhov's short story. But both of them were sweating.

"And what do we observe?" Gesar asked them reproachfully. He cast a sideways glance at me. "Come in, Anton. Sit down, I'll be finished in a moment…"

Thin Man and Fat Man perked up a bit at that.

"Some mediocre housewife… distorting all the facts… vulgarizing and simplifying everything… running rings around you! On a global scale!"

"She can do that precisely because she vulgarizes and simplifies," Fat Man retorted morosely.