Alexander Se-myonovich too did not seem quite as unpleasant as in the
town. And he wasn't wearing that revolting jacket. His face had a bronze tan, the unbuttoned calico shirt revealed a chest thickly
covered with black hair. He had canvas trousers on.
And his eyes were calmer and kinder.
Alexander Semyonovich trotted excitedly down
the colon-naded porch, which sported a notice with the words "Red Ray
State Farm" under a star, and went straight to the truck that had just
brought the three black chambers under escort.
All day Alexander Semyonovich worked hard with
his assistants setting up the chambers in the former winter garden, the
Sheremetevs' conservatory.
By evening all was ready. A white
frosted arc lamp shone under the glass roof, the chambers were set up on bricks
and, after much tapping and turning of shining knobs, the mechanic who had come
with the chambers produced the mysterious red ray on the asbestos floor in the
black crates.
Alexander Semyonovich bustled about, climbing
up the ladder himself and checking the wiring.
The next day the same truck came back from the
station and spat out three boxes of magnificent smooth plywood stuck all over
with labels and white notices on a black background that read: "Vorsicht:
Eier!"
"Eggs. Handle
with care!"
"Why have they sent so few?"
Alexander Semyonovich exclaimed in surprise and set about unpacking the eggs at
once. The unpacking also took place in the conservatory with the participation
of the following: Alexander Semyonovich himself, his unusually plump wife
Manya, the one-eyed former gardener of the former Sheremetevs, who now worked
for the state farm in the universal post of watchman, the guard doomed to live
on the state farm, and the cleaning girl Dunya. It was not
Moscow, and everything here was simpler, more friendly and more homely. Alexander Semyonovich gave
the instructions, glancing avidly from time to time at the boxes which lay like
some rich present under the gentle sunset glow from the upper panes in the
conservatory. The guard, his rifle dozing peacefully by the door, was ripping
open the braces and metal bands with a pair of pliers. There was a sound of
cracking wood. Clouds of dust rose up. Alexander Semyonovich padded around in
his sandals, fussing by the boxes.
"Gently does it," he said to the
guard. "Be careful. Can't you see it's
eggs?"
"Don't worry," croaked the
provincial warrior, bashing away happily.
"Won't be a minute..."
Wrr-ench. Down came
another shower of dust.
The eggs were beautifully packed: first came
sheets of waxed paper under the wooden top, next some blotting paper, then a
thick layer of wood shavings and finally the sawdust in which the white egg-tops
nestled.
"Foreign packing," said Alexander
Semyonovich lovingly, rummaging around in the sawdust. "Not the way we do
it. Careful, Manya, or you'll break them."
"Have you gone daft, Alexander
Semyonovich," replied his wife. "What's so special about this lot?
Think I've never seen eggs before? Oh, what big ones!"
"Foreign," said Alexander
Semyonovich, laying the eggs out on the wooden table. "Not like our poor
old peasant eggs. Bet they're all brahmaputras, the devil
take them! German..."
"I should say so," the guard agreed,
admitting the eggs.
"Only why are they so dirty?"
Alexander Semyonovich mused thoughtfully.
"Keep an eye on things, Manya.
Tell them to go on unloading. I'm going off to make a phone call."
And Alexander Semyonovich went to use the
telephone in the farm office across the yard.
That evening the phone rang in the laboratory
at the Zoological Institute. Professor Persikov tousled his hair and went to
answer it.
"Yes?" he asked.
"There's a call for you from the
provinces," a female voice hissed quietly down the receiver.
"Well, put it through then," said
Persikov disdainfully into the black mouthpiece. After a bit of crackling a
far-off male voice asked anxiously in his ear:
"Should the eggs be washed.
Professor?"
"What's that? What? What did you
say?" snapped Persikov irritably.
"Where are you speaking
from?"
"Nikolskoye, Smolensk Province," the
receiver replied.
"Don't understand. Never
heard of it. Who's that speaking?"
"Feight," the receiver said sternly.
"What Feight? Ah, yes. It's you. What did
you want to know?"
"Whether to wash them.
They've sent a batch of chicken eggs from abroad..."
"Well?"
"But they're all mucky..."
"You must be wrong. How can they be
'mucky', as you put it? Well, of course, maybe a few, er, droppings got stuck
to them, or something of the sort."
"So what about washing them?"
"No need at all, of course. Why, are you
putting the eggs into the chambers already?"
"Yes, I am," the receiver replied.
"Hm," Persikov grunted.
"So long," the receiver clattered
and fell silent.
"So long," Persikov repeated
distastefully to Decent Ivanov. "How do you like that character, Pyotr
Stepanovich?"
Ivanov laughed.
"So it was him, was it? I can imagine
what he'll concoct out of those eggs."
"Ye-e-es," Persikov began
maliciously. "Just think, Pyotr Stepanovich.
Well, of course, it's highly possible
that the ray will have the same effect on the deuteroplasma of a chicken egg as
on the plasma of amphibians. It is also highly possible that he will hatch out
chickens.
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