Yulia put a bag in the corner of the director’s office and took out the necessary documents, a laptop and a flash drive.

“Then let’s go,” said she in a confident tone.

She went up with the doctor to the observatory and saw seven thin and sickly looking men. They smiled as they looked at her and said in Russian ‘welcome’. Dr Lamichen led Yulia to the healthiest-looking one of them and introduced a balding and tired-looking man with a small gray beard and glasses. He looked about sixty, his face swarthy and smiling. He was dressed in slacks and a sweater over a shirt.

“This is Dr Capri,” Lamichen circled his arm around the man’s torso.

“Welcome to Kathmandu, Yulia,” nodded Dr Capri, “you can call me Tulu-Manchi,” he pointed to a table where many wires and miscellaneous equipment were present, inviting her to come over there.

“Hello,” Yulia nodded, “what stage are you at now?” going towards the table, she asked.

“We installed the telescope according to the instructions last week. Now we have finished installing all the antennas and repeaters along the perimeter of the observatory. All the cables are out here.”

Yulia looked at the table that Dr Capri pointed at and realized that it was an ordinary wooden table, similar to the one her grandmother had in her kitchen. Yulia crinkled her face and saw that the wires were lying tied up with some kind of rope. “God, they don’t even have plastic ties here,” she was horrified.

Yulia sat down at her desk and turned on her laptop, getting ready to work. She checked the chair, which squeaked a little, and logged on to the program.

Dr Capri began plugging in all the cables to the control box that stood nearby. He gently untied the rope and carefully read the numbers on the wires, and then inserted them into the appropriate connector on the control box. Everyone else gathered behind the doctor and Yulia’s backs. They looked on with a sense of deep satisfaction and pride at their unsophisticated work. Yulia felt this anticipatory look of wonder at the workers on her back and whispered to Dr Capri.

“Dr Capri, they know it’s going to take a couple of days to set up, don’t they?”

Tulu-Manchi smiled and said quietly conspiratorially:

“Of course they know, but they’re very patient.”

Yulia realized it was a joke and smiled back, too. Dr Capri turned on the control unit, and different lights began blinking on it. All the workers smiled as they saw this and patted each other on the shoulders.

The doctor, in Nepali, told the workers everything was hooked up and they had all done a good job. One of them would stay in case they need help, and the rest could go home. After a few minutes, the observatory emptied and a tired Dr Tulu-Manchi Capri sat down next to Yulia. He asked her to tell him how she flew and why she chose such a difficult profession.

While the device was being diagnosed they had plenty of time to talk.

Indira Gandhi Airport in Delhi greeted David with warmth and care. He looked at the sculptures of huge palms that looked like the frozen movements of dancers. “What all those mudras mean?” He bought a ticket to Bagdogra and was already sitting on the plane a few hours later. There were completely different people around, they surprised David and made him feel the spirit of adventure.

Ahead of him awaited the route, which was written down on a scrap of paper lying in his pants pocket. Just the names of the places, the points of the route: “Delhi-Bagdogra-Kalimpong-Rangangang-Yuksom-Kanchenjunga”. Amazing words that until a few days ago meant absolutely nothing to David. He wrote them down, checking every letter. The names seemed so distant and mysterious. No return route, no how to get to these points, no distance, no time. Just a few markers on the path, words that anyone anywhere in the world would be able to understand.