Two Suns

Satisfied with both the outcome and the adventure, the cadets made it back to their barracks on time. Mark exulted, «What a coincidence! 3rd Sovetskaya, 3rd Meshchanskaya! Another good sign.» Yes, in Leningrad, he seemed to have quite a stroke of luck with street names. As for his luck with the enchanting Bertha – that remained an unanswered question…

Chapter 2: «I Came, I Saw, I Convinced!»

Oh, how sluggishly the days passed until the next leave! Mark, who had been diligently studying, now found himself frequently distracted, sometimes not even hearing the teacher. Thanks to Valeriy who occasionally nudged him in the side, the lovesick cadet was saved from complete bewilderment! Only the practical workshops at the airfield, where Maretsky could happily spend hours, went according to plan – his restless nature craved action and more action!

The image of the elusive Berta lingered in his mind. Mark was tormented by doubts, his mood mirroring the capricious Leningrad weather: from hope for reciprocity to the certainty that such a captivating girl must surely have a suitor.

«That mockingly condescending gaze…» he pondered, lying in his bunk after lights out. «But it's not disdainful… And there's a hint of fiery temperament; if she disapproved, she would have let us know we were unwelcome… But she didn't, did she?»

«She didn't, right, Valeriy?» Mark inquired.

«Oh, come on. When you arrive, your Aphrodite will be taken aback, and she'll thaw like the Snow Maiden.»

«Uh, no. She's not Aphrodite. She's Artemis!»

Valeriy, incidentally, informed him that the neighborhood where Berta lived was called PeskI (an ancient name) or Rozhdestvenskaya Sloboda, and all streets called Sovetskaya were once known as Rozhdestvenskaya Streets, as the Church of the Nativity of Jesus stood on the sixth of them.

«Though it seems to have been demolished recently as well.»

«Well, that's understandable; times have changed,» Mark thought about construction artels, perhaps out of old habit.

«Yes,» Valeriy agreed, «but the new names are still a mess.»

«And not all of them are named thoughtfully,» he added.

Two friends exchanged understanding glances, but Mark didn't feel particularly bothered by all these changes. The most crucial thing was that the street remained Third.

The morning of the eagerly awaited day dawned overcast, despite the fine weather the night before; clouds had gathered, hinting at impending rain. Yet in his dreams, he had pictured a romantic stroll…

Finally free, Cadet Maretsky arrived at House No. 26 dressed impeccably, carrying two enormous bouquets (thanks to his mother, he had grown accustomed to orderliness and neatness, but today his uniform looked especially dashing on him). With a grand gesture, he lightly kicked the entrance threshold as a token of gratitude, then stepped into the coolness of the building.

After calling the first apartment and obtaining the necessary information from a venerable old lady, Mark courteously bowed to the bewildered elderly lady, who had likely long grown unaccustomed to such gestures of attention.

A tantalizing aroma of homemade baked goods wafted from the cherished door on the third floor. Inhaling the sweet scent and pressing the doorbell, the cadet wistfully recalled his mother's pies (she was a master at baking), fidgeted on his feet, adjusted his bouquet, straightened his uniform… – but no one answered the door, despite the sounds emanating from the apartment. Trying again, Mark decided he would wait for victory, especially since the leave had just begun, the rain had yet to arrive, and there was no rush…

A wave of vanilla and cinnamon scent from behind the door, which was sharply opened, nearly knocked him off his feet. An older, yet still strikingly beautiful woman stood on the doorstep, donning a flour-stained apron with a kitchen towel draped over her shoulder.

«Full house, and no one to answer the door,» she exclaimed, not with anger, but with indignation, into the shadows of the corridor, and then looked at Mark in surprise. Unperturbed, he recognized her as his future mother-in-law, sharing the same stature and bushy eyebrows.

«Good afternoon. This is for you,» he offered with a courteous greeting, handing over the bouquet and delivering a slight, respectful bow.

«You must be mistaken, young man?» she responded with astonishment, yet still appreciating his politeness.

«I'm quite certain I'm not,» Mark smiled, openly inviting. «You're Berta's mother, aren't you?»

«Ah, of course,» the woman's eyes sparkled with a familiar slyness, as if to say, «Another contender, let's see…» – «Bertha, you have a visitor. A very gallant young man! Thank you. Please come in.»

The cramped hallway was illuminated as a gray-haired man emerged from a room with a little girl on his shoulders, both laughing. Vladimir followed them.

It was time to introduce himself.

«Mark Maretsky, a cadet of the military-technical school,» he stated with a sense of pride and confidence.

«It's Mark, Mommy! I told you! About the guys in Sestroretsk…» Vladimir chimed in…

«Oh, that's right! I'm Anna, the mother of this lively troublemaker,» she introduced herself.

«I'm Alexander Galper,» the man said, gently lowering the little girl to the floor. «Rose, go play,» he instructed, then warmly shook Mark's hand, displaying genuine interest in the guest with a good-natured smile, devoid of any ulterior motives.

To the left, at the back, beyond the hallway, a table came into view, and there was Berta in a white apron, much like her mother's, carefully arranging another batch of pies on a baking tray (her proud profile quite captivating). Vladimir was already pulling at Mark's sleeve, eager to show off his latest creation:

«I built this machine! You have to see it!» he eagerly exclaimed.

But Mark, resolute, headed toward the kitchen, or rather, what appeared to be a makeshift kitchen set up in the hallway. With slow grace, Bertha wiped her hands and showed no sign of surprise as she accepted the bouquet.

«Thank you,» she said, but couldn't resist asking, «How did you find me?»

«It's a military secret,» he replied with a playful twinkle in his eye.

«I can imagine…» her teasing smirk reappeared.

Oh, that look! Mockery again.

«You know what military secrets are? Then, we'll understand each other without words!»

«Let's have some tea. Berta, Anna, stop teasing us with those enticing aromas! Vladimir, help set the table!» the wise patriarch of the family decided to defuse the situation.

«Yes, yes,» Mark said gratefully, «the aroma of your pies wafts all over the entryway. Is it cinnamon, nutmeg, and vanilla?»

«Do you know anything about cooking?» Anna, experienced in the tricks of potential suitors, wondered if Mark was simply being polite.

«No, I'm not. I'm just a gourmand. And my mom was an exceptional cook.»

«Was? What happened?» she asked, sensing there was more to the story.

«She passed away two years ago,» he said with a touch of sadness.

The woman offered a comforting pat on his shoulder. «Well, you're in for a treat. Let's go to the room.»

As it turned out, Berta's older brothers, Boris and his wife, Mikhail, along with her sister Julia, her husband, and their daughter Rose – a whole community, as Mark thought – resided in the three-room apartment. In the past, the Galper couple had raised eight children under one roof, but most of them had already flown the nest. Once, they had an eight-room apartment. In the twenties, they had to sacrifice part of the apartment, including the kitchen, although they managed to keep the gas stove – a rarity for those times.

At the table, only a tall, young man in his thirties with fine facial features was present (the others had gone to the movies):

«Mikhail,» he introduced himself briefly, noticing the two bouquets adorning the room. He couldn't hide his irony, «This is the first time you've come to us, and you want to get married right away!»

The brave cadet felt a bit embarrassed, but there was no turning back now.

«You know, I'm ready right now, but I think we should get to know each other first,» Mark replied.

The parents nodded approvingly, and Vladimir shouted enthusiastically, «I agree to such a son-in-law!» Berta seemed about to respond with a retort, but then she changed her mind and burst into laughter. In that moment, she saw him in a different light, realizing he was more than the self-assertive guy she initially perceived. And he has such a beautiful smile.

Her laughter was pure and ringing, and it caught Mark off guard, leaving him thinking, «What a nice girl… So different… Yet somewhat similar to Anna!»

Mikhail, clearly enjoying the interaction, added teasingly, «Berta is a girl with a temper. You still have time to change your mind.»

With determination, Mark quickly composed himself and responded, «I appreciate the advice. I undertake to study this temper thoroughly,» casting an expressive glance at Bertha.

And thus, began the exchange of questions and stories, as it always happens between kindred spirits who have overcome the initial awkwardness of a new acquaintance.

Alexander, originally named Isaac, was a tailor, but not an ordinary one; he specialized in crafting military uniforms. The workshop was situated right in their home, and all the children, to varying degrees, had acquired the skills of this profession. After graduating, Berta became her father's right-hand woman and was now the «official» employee of the family atelier, which had now shifted to civilian orders.

The help of the older children was particularly crucial during times of war when the workshop was inundated with orders.

«If it weren't for the boys, I would have never made it through. But then, things got so tough – we feared we wouldn't survive. The repairs, alterations… It cost a fortune! You couldn't find good fabric anywhere, day or night, except on the Sennoy market, and even then, it was exorbitantly expensive!» The elderly tailor sighed, recalling the times of hunger, market raids, goods requisitioning, and constant fear for his family.

«Almost everything valuable in the house had to be exchanged for food and fabrics,» his wife echoed.

«But the NEP somewhat improved the situation,» added Alexander.

«Yes, you know, the new bosses surprisingly had a taste for finer things,» his wife chimed in.

«And one must thank their wives, especially the 'exes',» Mikhail contributed.

«Well, Mikhail knows better; he's a renowned movie fan,» Berta said with a touch of humor, but it was evident that she spoke about her brother with great admiration.

Mikhail worked at the Soyuzkino Leningrad factory and was credited as a cameraman for several famous films that Mark had already seen. Among them were not only the serious Strange Shore, which dealt with the re-education of a sailor who had lost his vigilance, but also the lighthearted domestic comedy, The Grandmothers' Revolt. Mark had seen it with Sacha, and they had a delightful time.

This film presented a humorous tale of «forbidden» love between a Jewish girl and a Russian guy. Interestingly, it was the grandmothers, with the assistance of the Komsomol cell, who understood the situation and came forward to help the young lovers.

«Oh, the Grandmothers' Revolt? That was something!»

«Did you enjoy it?» asked Berta.

«There were some truly funny moments! The old ladies were excellent,» Mark replied.

Mark listened with keen interest and observed the furnishings: elegant furniture, tasteful curtains adorning the windows, and framed photographs capturing the Galper family during their younger days. It was evident how diligently they endeavored to preserve the warmth and harmonious family atmosphere. Anna, too, aspired for such comfort, although her circumstances were more limited. Upon learning that the young man hailed from Third Meshchanskaya Street, the occupants of Third Sovetskaya Street found much amusement.

The ambiance in the apartment was welcoming and congenial, extending a friendly embrace to the guest. The Galpers were genuinely well-disposed, and Anna empathized with the hardships faced by the Maretsky family. Having experienced the tumultuous years of 1905, the revolutions of 1917, and the famine during the Civil War in St. Petersburg-Petrograd, they could understand the trials that had befallen the amiable young man.

«Yes, these days we have pies aplenty. But in the spring of 18, I remember, a mere ounce of bread was a rarity… around 30 grams per person. We endured it all,» Anna's eyes welled up with tears.

«Come now, Anna, don't,» Isaac's voice quivered with emotion. «You know, during those times, Petrograd was reeking of dried fish. That's all we could get. I'll never eat vobla again in my life!»

«Fish saved us in Henichesk too,» Mark recalled those years vividly, reminiscing on the hunger that gripped the nation. He recounted how he had to seek refuge in the cellar during the pogroms.

In essence, these two families, having weathered the storms of change, found a profound connection and shared experiences.

Tragic memories were abruptly interrupted by the scent of burnt pastries.

«Oh!» Berta suddenly leaped from the table, «the pies!»

«How could we forget?» Mom lamented.

«It's all because of the cadet, my girls,» Alexander teased good-naturedly.

«I'll help!» Mark eagerly offered, hurrying after the young mistress.

He was unnecessary in the cramped kitchen, Berta was more than capable of handling it herself. She swiftly retrieved the baking tray.

«At least they didn't burn too badly, and I don't think they're all ruined…» she hurriedly placed the pastries on a plate. «But what to do with the burnt ones?»

«I vow not to let them go to waste!» Mark declared, eager to win her favor.

Throughout the tea party, he racked his brain for a way to be alone with Bertha. «Should I ask her for a walk? But will she agree?» These thoughts consumed him, and he sensed that now was the opportune moment.

Maretsky hesitated a little, «Um, we're supposed to get to know each other.»

«We?!»

Is she going to revert to her previous behavior?

«Alright, me. But will you give a poor cadet a chance?» The hope in his voice was hard to say no to.

«Alright, what do you suggest?»

«Get ready. I've got something to show you.»

When they stepped outside, the sun was shining and not a trace of rain lingered in the sky. Grateful for the pleasant weather and Bertha's agreeability, Mark inquired, «Have you been to the Aeromuseum?»

«You mean the one that replaced the Suvorov Museum? No.»

«That's alright. I'll be your tour guide.»

He adopted the most suitable tactic: women admire men who are passionate about their work. And if they can also articulate it in a captivating manner… Well, as the famous heartbreaker Valeriy used to say, «girls fall in love not only with their ears, of course, but with them too.» He certainly knew a thing or two about such matters!

In the Aeromuseum, Mark showcased an unexpected side to his companion: intelligent, well-read, and courteous. This provincial lad was making quite an impression. Few St. Petersburg gentlemen could rival him, and their chances were dwindling rapidly. Bertha regarded Mark with a newfound warmth and interest…

As he bid farewell to the girl and walked along Third Sovetskaya Street, Mark noticed something intriguing:

«I would change the name of your street to ours,» he remarked.

«Why is that?» inquired Bertha.

«Your surroundings fit me better,» he explained.

«Didn't you like it here?» she asked.

«Oh, I absolutely loved it. It's so cozy. My sister in Moscow is trying to create a similar ambiance, but…»

Mark paused, searching for the right words to convey his feelings.

Bertha understood and gently touched his arm, saying, «Ambiance is important. When I have my own family, I want to create a warm and inviting space for everyone. A big table to gather the whole family. But, of course, ambiance isn't the most crucial aspect. It's all about the relationships, isn't it?»

Her seriousness melted into a smile, and she added playfully, «Though a big round table is a must!»

«I guarantee you a table!» Mark replied.

«Did I say I would sit at that table with you?!» she teased.

Without engaging in an argument, Mark simply responded, «We'll see.»

They were nearing Bertha's house.

«But that doesn't mean we can't go to the movies, right?» he inquired.

«We'll see,» she playfully echoed, and with a laugh, she disappeared into the entrance.

As Mark made his way back to the barracks, he was filled with a newfound sense of confidence. He was certain there would be movies, walks, and even a wedding in their future.

* * *

Soon, it became evident that they were a perfect match for each other. Bertha, daring and strong-willed, proved to be surprisingly tender, accommodating, and understanding – a true ideal life companion for a military man. Their affection for each other was tender and attentive, and Mark quickly integrated himself into the family circle, leaving no doubt that they would soon marry.

A year later, Mark Maretsky, a courageous graduate of the Leningrad Military-Technical School of the Red Army Air Force, fulfilled his promise: he legally wedded Bertha Galper. The occasion was bittersweet, as Mark was assigned to the Nizhny Novgorod region, bidding farewell to the beloved and numerous family.

Filled with hope and enthusiasm, the young couple embraced their new journey – a new city, engaging work, and an independent life awaited them.

Chapter 3: Mastering Spaces

Leonid graduated from the institute precisely during the «Great Break,» a period of extensive transformations in the country. The first five-year plan for national economic development was adopted, setting the course for rapid industrialization, which necessitated the accelerated development of railroads. The People's Commissariat of Communication Routes of the Soviet Union was actively engaged in this endeavor, particularly valuing experienced specialists. Among them was Engineer Mirachevsky whose profound knowledge of railroads dated back to his childhood. His background as a skilled machinist, extensive practical training, outstanding natural aptitude, and organizational skills made him a highly esteemed employee. Excellently passing his exams and brilliantly defending his master's thesis paved the way for a promising professional career.

* * *

Olga was struggling in vain to feed Irina, who was being stubborn and refusing to eat. Frustrated, the mother raised her voice at the resistant little girl, but just then, the door swung open – Leonid, as always, arrived just in the nick of time, bearing a cake and sweets, and entered the scene of resistance.

«What's all the noise? No quarreling, girls!» he chimed in, immediately sweeping up his beloved daughter in his arms as tears began to form in her eyes.

Olga breathed a sigh of relief; her husband had a special way of handling their daughter – with him, her capriciousness vanished in an instant.

«So, how did the defense go?» That was the question of the day. Perhaps, that was why she had been so nervous while awaiting his return; she worried about how it all went, and the baby, of course, sensed her mother's emotions and reacted in her own way.

«Take a wild guess how it turned out?» Leonid playfully teased, as was his boyish tendency to pose riddles.

«Judging by the cake, Id say congratulations are in order,» Olga replied, always amused by his playful nature (he was such a child sometimes!).

«Yes, but on what?»

«Is it related to the defense?» She played along, entering his game.

«Aim higher!»

«With an outstanding defense?» Her laughter couldn't be contained now; he looked like a mischievous little boy, only grown up, with a little minx in his arms, trying to pull off his glasses.

«Olga, they're keeping me in the department!»

«I always knew my husband was a genius!» It was time for a loving embrace.

Later, Olga inquired, «Did even Professor Nedorozhny back down? You know he's the only teacher who could seriously complicate the defense.»

«Well, you know, knowledge is light, and light always overcomes the darkness! Even the darkness of ignorance among certain false scientists,» he replied with a hint of rebellion.

«You're a rebel, Leonid! And a chatterbox. At least try not to speak out too much at the institute. You know what kind of people are there…»

And so, the Mirachevsky family celebrated a true festive evening. Leonid passionately recounted the defense details, and Olga radiated with happiness. The endless trips and her husband's perpetual absence in search of income would now come to an end, allowing them to live like proper human beings!

The beginning of their new life was marked by a well-deserved vacation. The three of them spent a short break in Chervona: Olga had yet to meet her granddaughter, and Leonid missed his mother and the old Shpirkanov house with its vast garden – the place that, in his childhood memories, seemed boundless.

* * *

After a journey to the former Podolia Governorate, where time seemed to move in a measured and provincial manner, the harsh realities of everyday life awaited them. Olga's premature joy about a quiet period in their family history turned out to be short-lived. Her husband, an employee of the capital's university, was not content with peacefully working in the department and lecturing to students. No, that wasn't his cherished dream. Olga remembered his vivid childhood stories about distant lands and adventures, but she assumed that as children grow up, dreams are left behind. However, Leonid proved to be an exception – a dreamer-practitioner who turned his fantasies into reality.

It became evident that her husband's scientific work involved constant business trips, often leading to long and uncomfortable expeditions. Spartan living conditions, harsh weather, and other challenges made Olga uneasy. The room in Trekhprudny Lane served merely as a brief resting place between the ever-increasing number of journeys. If Professor Lepeikin, a favorite of students, often repeated the Latin aphorism «via est vita» meaning «life is a road,» then it could be said of Mirachevsky that his entire life was a journey.

The country had been woefully short of reliable highways (not just railroads) in the past, but the construction of factories across the Union and the development of new fields in Siberia demanded a transportation revolution. Designing new routes required months of laborious fieldwork, conducting detailed studies of the terrain.

In essence, Leonid's childhood dreams had come true. Adventure was an integral part of his life, but sometimes it could be perilous.

* * *

By mid-June, Mirachevsky was dispatched to the Volga region, where the construction of the Saratov-Millerovo railway line, initially planned by the tsarist government before the outbreak of World War I, was underway. This project held great importance as it aimed to connect the Volga regions with the Black Sea ports. Leonid assumed the role of senior engineer for the technical survey party.

It was only at this point that Olga truly understood the path she had chosen in life. Leonid, shuttling between the Volga region, Rostov, various points of the route, Moscow, the institute, and family life, was often exhausted, yet he felt utterly content. A life brimming with love and passion for his work energized him. He reveled in engaging cases, adored his «girls» at home, and passionately debated in the department, seeking truth. All of this seemed to invigorate him even more. Olga admired her husband's tireless energy – it seemed that the more he gave, the stronger he became. However, it also occasionally irritated her. Every woman feels more at ease with a reliable shoulder to lean on, someone to be there at any time, not just once a month.

And Leonid, who had already proven his capabilities in the southern direction, was entrusted with the next responsible and incredibly challenging task: research in Siberia. The assignment was slated to be lengthy, with no possibility of returning to Moscow. Therefore, the Mirachevskys faced the difficult decision of how to proceed with their lives.

After the department meeting, Professor Lepeikin caught up with him in the lobby:

«Leonid, you understand the importance of this project,» he said loudly, shaking Mirachevsky's hand. «And you know, if I were younger, I would be envious of you: such opportunities, such uncharted research territory!»

He then added in a lowered voice:

«But I sympathize with you, frankly. It's a very… extremely challenging environment there. It's almost Yakutia.»

«Thank you, Pyotr,» Leonid was touched by his beloved teacher's concern. «But, as you know, we go wherever the Motherland sends us.»

Lepeikin's tone became serious:

«I wish you good luck. And take care of yourself…» His worry was evident.

«Don't worry, Professor. You and I will be designing roads beyond the Arctic Circle!»

In reality, Leonid was experiencing conflicting emotions. He was pleased with his new assignment: being entrusted with such a responsible task fueled his enthusiasm. On his way home, he already began envisioning future routes, searching for the one true direction in the impenetrable wilderness. However, his joy was tempered by the need to explain the situation to his wife. He couldn't fathom being apart for a year, and perhaps even longer. How could he hint at the possibility of taking his family with him?

The task was further complicated by the fact that the survey was set to begin in March, before the spring floods thawed the roads.

Olga immediately sensed that her husband was withholding something when he shared how his day had gone. She observed him playing with their daughter, and though she didn't rush him or ask any questions, she knew he would eventually confide in her. Nonetheless, she couldn't help but feel anxious: his hesitation indicated that the matter was serious.

Once Irina fell asleep, Leonid, looking guilty, started to speak hesitantly:

«Olga…»

«A business trip?»

«No, Olga. An expedition.»

«Does that mean for a long time?» For some reason, Olga wasn't taken aback by the news.

«Not only that. It's also very far away.»

To be honest, she had anticipated something like this for a while. The development of Siberia was a constant topic of conversation among her husband's friends, who debated the best routes to lay, considering the challenges of climate and terrain.

«And what do the guidelines say for pioneer families in such situations?»

He smiled (acknowledging her irony!):

«The guidelines do not prohibit families from accompanying survey party personnel.»

He then continued with a furrowed brow:

«But you could stay. I even think it might be better for you to stay. You see, this is the northeast of the Siberian region, almost Yakutia (the professor's words came to mind, by the way), and it's uncertain how Irina will tolerate this climate.»

«Look, I won't pretend that I'm thrilled about all of this. But how long will the expedition last: six months, a year? What's your vision for our family life?»

«She wants to go? Great!» That was exactly the answer he had hoped for.

«Our life will be beautiful and extraordinary!»

«Shh, you'll wake her.»

«And we'll have a few more babies.»

… Falling asleep, Leonid said:

«And by the way, I'm the head of the party…»

* * *

The small caravan, having departed from Irkutsk, was resolutely pushing forward through the snowy kingdom – everything around them was a pristine white: the road, the trees, and even the horses' faces were covered in hoarfrost. Olga couldn't help but reminisce about the long journey on the comfortably heated «international» carriage of the swift Moscow-Vladivostok train that had commenced from the Yaroslavl station in the capital. But now, for her, a native of the blessed warm lands, the discomfort was palpable: they had traveled, probably, over a thousand versts (if one were to reckon in the old way) from Irkutsk. She thought wistfully: «What a Decembrist wife! If only I had known…» While Moscow was already experiencing the thaw, winter here showed no signs of receding, and they were drawing near the location where the expedition was to be established. Traveling along the ancient Irkutsk-Yakutsk postal road felt especially arduous due to their unaccustomedness to the conditions.

«Tell me, Leonid, who needs railroads in this remote place?»

«People live everywhere…»

It felt as though the snowy thicket had no end, but then the aroma of smoke reached their senses, and a settlement suddenly emerged on the path. The sleigh entered a courtyard, almost concealed under the snow, and stopped beside a hut adorned with exquisite carvings, like something out of a fairy tale.

The driver tossed aside his heavy fur attire and assisted the travelers. The house was warm and toasty, and at a long table, men were gathered, sipping tea. From the cups, saucers, and the towering samovar, fragrances of tea and medicinal herbs wafted through the air. Steam emanated from the frost as newcomers entered. A robust woman, seemingly the hostess, hurried over to them. She helped them with their coats and expressed concern over Irina:

«The child, the child is completely frozen! Have some tea, it will warm you up.»

The bewildered little girl gazed at the captivating scene and was unwilling to let go of her father's hand.

After they had shed their outerwear, cups were brought to them, filled with surprisingly salty tea mixed with milk (they later learned it was a traditional drink in these parts). Witnessing the perplexed expressions of the new guests, Nadezhda threw up her hands:

«Oh, right! The child needs something sweet! I'll go make some.»

Soon after dinner, they fell asleep almost instantly. And before dawn, beneath the still starry sky, they set off once more.

After a few days, the road led them to the river, and they continued their journey along the Lena's bank. Eventually, the road immersed itself back into the forest. They arrived at their destination, the unknown Kirensk, when the sun was already setting. The pines parted, revealing a remarkably beautiful sight: a small town amidst a snow-covered field adorned with tracks of sledges and skis – the frozen river itself (the opposite bank was dotted with boats trapped in ice). In this bend of the Lena River, where it merged with the Kirenga, stood the village. The snow gleamed with a pink hue in the setting sun, and bluish columns of smoke billowed above the huts – this is how Olga would later recollect her very first impression of Kirensk.