Self-discovery

Chapter 24

Graduate student Krivoshein went up to the fifth floor and entered the apartment. Victor Kravets and Adam were smoking out on the balcony; when they saw him, they came inside. Krivoshein gave them a glum look.

“Three from one pea pod. And there used to be four….” He looked at the clock. There was still time. He sat down. “Tell me, Victor Kravets, what happened there?”

Kravets lit up another cigarette and began the story in a hollow voice.

The plan of the experiment was for Krivoshein the Original to immerse himself up to the neck in the liquid — control the sensations — put on Monomakh’s Crown — control the sensations once more — give the command of dissatisfaction (“Not it!”) — come into mutual contact with the liquid circuit — reach the stage of controllable transparency — fix his broken ribs — use the “impulse of satisfaction” for the command “That’s it” — return to nontransparency — break contact with the liquid circuit — and leave the tank.

They had gone over the methodology of the experiment dozens of times by immersing their extremities. The mutual permeation of the liquid and the body could be controlled and regulated easily.

“You see, friends, it turns out that inside our bodies there are always less healthy spots, tiny flaws, well, like your skin, no matter how healthy, always had a pimple or a scratch or chafing or a local irritation. I don’t know what kind of inner ‘scratches’ there are, but after working in the liquid your arm or leg always feels better than it did before. The liquid circuit corrects these minor flaws. And you can recognize these corrections as they are going on: there is a tingling sensation that increases and then decreases. And if after the decrease you give the command ‘That’s it’ the computer breaks contact and the arm or leg stops being transparent. I’m only telling you this to show you that we had no questions on the methodology of entering and breaking contact with the liquid circuit.”

“While you were immersing no more than ten or fifteen percent of the body,” Krivoshein added.

“Yes. We were also sure that the human body maintains muscle tone in the transparent stage in liquid. We used to ‘struggle’ in the liquid: his hand [transparent] and mine [not], or right against left when both were transparent. In other words, the liquid circuit fully supports the viability of the body.”

“Of parts of the body,” Krivoshein interrupted again. “Yes. Perhaps that was the whole problem,” Kravets sighed. Of course, it was frightening. It was one thing to dip your hand or foot into the liquid — you can pull it out if you sense danger. At worst, you’ll lose an arm. But it’s completely different to immerse yourself in the tank, giving yourself up to the whim of a complex and mysterious medium that you can’t fight off or run away from.

They hid the fear from each other. Krivoshein, because he feared for himself. Kravets, because he didn’t want to scare him unnecessarily.

But everything had been prepared assiduously, conscientiously. They regulated the level of liquid in the tank so that it would come up to Krivoshein’s neck when he got in and stood in it. They placed a large mirror opposite the tank. (They had to shell out for it; there wasn’t one at the warehouse.) Krivoshein could observe and control the changes he saw in the mirror.

In order to lessen the possibility of any fluctuations in current and electromagnetic field, they decided to run the experiment at night, after 2:00 A.M., when all the other labs were turned off and the buses and trolleys were in the depot.

Krivoshein stripped, climbed up the steps, and holding on to the edge with his left hand (his right was weak after the motorcycle accident), sank into the tank. The liquid gurgled. He stood up to his neck in it — his head looked separate from his body. Kravets was ready with Monomakh’s Crown.

Krivoshein licked his lips.

“Salty.” His voice was hoarse.

“What?”

“The liquid. Like sea water.”

They waited a minute.

“It seems in order. No sensations, as to be expected. Give me the crown.”

Kravets put Monomakh’s Crown firmly on his head, clicked the dials, and climbed back down. Now his job was to observe Krivoshein, give advice, if needed, and help him out of the tank in case of some unexpected emergency.

Krivoshein spent another minute getting used to his new position.

“The sensations are familiar: tingling, prickling,” he said. “Nothing new. Well, that’s it. Wish me luck. I’m starting to plug in.”

“Break a leg, Val.”

“The hell with it. We’re off!”

They didn’t talk after that.

Krivoshein’s body developed in the liquid like a color negative. The white contours of the bones and tendons showed through the purple muscles with their layers of yellowish fat. His ribs rose and fell rhythmically, like a bellows. Kravets saw white swellings in two ribs on the right side. The purplish red fist of the heart contracted and relaxed, pushing along crimson streams of blood (it was no longer clear into where).

Krivoshein didn’t take his eyes off his reflection. His face was pale and concentrated.

Soon the muscles turned golden yellow and you could distinguish them from the liquid only by light refraction.

“And then….” Kravets rubbed his temples with the palms of his hands, took a deep drag on his cigarette, “and then the automatic vacillations began. Like it had in the very beginning with the rabbits: everything in Val began changing size and shape synchronously. I ran up to the tank: ‘Val, what are you doing? He looked at me, but said nothing in reply. ‘The vacillations! Unplug! He tried to say something, opened his lips, and suddenly went under into the liquid. He began jerking, twisting, a dancing skeleton with a nickel — plated helmet!”

He took another deep drag.

“The only thing to do, to save him was to use Monomakh’s Crown and the ‘it — not it’ commands to get into rhythm with the vacillations of his body and stop them gradually, using them to return the body to the nontransparent stage. You know, external control, the way he made you,” Kravets nodded at Adam, and me.

He stopped talking, working his jaw muscles.

“That damn Harry! We could really have used an extra SES — 2 then. But of course there was no hope of getting a second crown after his dissertation flopped! Putting him in jail wouldn’t be enough.”

“He probably wouldn’t even get a reprimand for not completing an order in time. It’s not like insulting a professor,” Krivoshein laughed drily. “And you can’t accuse him of anything more than that.”

“The only way was to remove the crown from Val’s head,” Victor continued. “I jumped up on the steps, put my hands in the liquid — and I got an electric shock through both arms. Judging by the effect, I’d say four hundred or five hundred volts. There had never been potentials like that in the liquid before. Well, you know, the hands jerk away involuntarily in cases like that. I ran to the shelves, got rubber gloves, and tried again, but Val was deep inside, and the gloves weren’t long enough. The shock was so strong that this time I fell to the floor. I had to turn over the tank. I couldn’t let him dissolve into the liquid before my very eyes like… like you had.” Kravets looked over at Adam. “I was him, Krivoshein, when he was dissolving you. [Adam’s face tensed.] And he was still alive. His face had dissolved, too. There was only the crown on his skull, but he was jumping about, so that meant his muscles were working. I grabbed the edge of the tank and started shaking it. The edges are flexible and slippery but finally I pulled it down, almost on me. I just got out in time — but the liquid splashed on my face and neck and I got a third shock from that. I don’t remember the rest. I came to on the stretcher.”

He was silent. The others said nothing. Krivoshein stood up and paced the room in thought.

“There was nothing wrong with the way you set up the experiment. It was thought through. No evildoing, no fatal accident, not even a gross miscalculation… killed a man according to all the rules, as they say! If you hadn’t turned over the tank he would have dissolved, since the liquid that had permeated him was no longer the organizing liquid circuit. It’s too bad he kept the crown on, though. Once he was plugged into the liquid he could control it without the crown.”

“So that’s how it is.” Kravets looked up.

“Yes. That stupid cap was only necessary to plug into the computer — womb — and nothing else. From there the brain commands the nerves directly, and not through wires and circuits. And when the uncontrolled autovacillations began, it was the crown that destroyed him. A foreign body in the living liquid — it’s as irritating as a slingshot to a bear!”

“Yes, but why did the vacillations start?” Adam interrupted. He turned to Kravets. “Tell me, did you investigate any further the process after the rabbits and… me?”

“No. In the last experiments we didn’t touch on it. All the transformations were going smoothly directed only by sensations. I told you that. I can’t imagine how he lost control of himself! Did he panic? That process is sort of like confusion… but why was he confused?”

“The switch from quantity to quality,” Adam said. “As long as you were immersing only an arm or a leg into the liquid, there were only a few ‘hotbeds of uncorrection’ which you used to control and direct the penetration of the body with the liquid. It was like talking to one or two people at the same time. But once he put in his whole body, there were naturally many more places like that in his whole body than in just parts of it, and — “

“And instead of a decent conversation there was the incomprehensible babble of a crowd,” Krivoshein added. “And he grew confused. That’s quite possible.”

“Listen, you self — taught experts!” Kravets glared at them. “There are always a lot of people ready to explain why something went wrong, to make themselves look bigger. ‘I warned you. I told you so! If there’s nuclear war, I’m sure there will be people who, before turning into cinders, will have time to exclaim joyously: ‘I told you so! Are you so sure that the experiment failed precisely for those reasons, that you would get into the tank if the corrections were made?”

“No, Victor Kravets,” Krivoshein said, “not that sure. And not one of us will get into the tank just to prove that he’s right or that someone else is wrong — that’s not our work. We will have to get in, and more than once — the idea was sound. But we will do it with minimal risk and maximum benefit. And there’s no point in your getting so excited. You two made the experiment. An experiment like that! And you almost ruined the lab and the whole project. You had everything — great ideas, heroics, discoveries, meditations, high — level effort — except one thing: reasonable caution! Of course, maybe it’s not for me to reproach you. I did pretty much the same thing in one very serious experiment and almost killed myself. But tell me, why couldn’t you have called me back from Moscow to participate in this one?”

Kravets looked at him ironically.

“How would you have helped? You were way behind in this work.”

The graduate student sighed: to hear that after all his labors!

“You’re a louse, Vitya,” he said with unbelievable meekness. “It’s terrible to have to say this to someone so close to you, but you are simply a son of a bitch. I’m good enough to be used as a decoy with the police while you get off scot — free from criminal culpability? But not good enough to be a researcher on this project?” He turned away from the window.

“What does culpability have to do with this?” Kravets muttered in confusion. “Someone had to save the project….”

Suddenly he jumped up in terror: Onisimov was coming toward him from the window! Adam shuddered, too, and looked around in panic.

“You wouldn’t have saved anything, suspect Kravets,” Onisimov said in an unpleasant voice, “if the head of your department hadn’t learned a thing or two in Moscow. You’d be in the defendant’s chair right now, comrade pseudo — Kravets. I’ve managed to put people behind bars with less evidence than this. Do you see?”

This time Krivoshein got his own face back in ten seconds; the practice was paying off.

“You mean, that was you? You let me out? Wait… how do you do that?”

“Using biology?” Adam asked.

“Biology and systemology.” Krivoshein massaged his cheeks calmly. “You see, unlike you two, I remember what it was like being part of the computer — womb.”

“Tell us how you do it,” Kravets nagged.

“I’ll tell you, don’t worry, all in good time. We’ll set up a seminar. Now we’re going to use this knowledge in conjunction with our work on the computer — womb. But applying it to life will have to be done very carefully.” He looked at his watch and turned to Kravets and Adam. “It’s time. Let’s go to the lab. We’ll reconstruct your experiment.”

“Hah.. those crazy scientists!” the chief of police laughed and shook his head when Matvei Apollonovich reported the final clearing up of the events at the Institute of Systemology. “You mean, while you were gathering evidence and talking to the academician, the ‘corpse’ crawled out from under the oilcloth and went to the shower?”

“Yes, exactly. He wasn’t himself after the blow to his head, comrade colonel.”

“Naturally! It can take less than that. And the skeleton right next to him. Hah! That’s what comes of not studying the scene of the incident carefully enough, comrade Onisimov,” and Aleksei Ignatyevich raised his forefinger didactically. “You didn’t take the specifics of the place into account. This isn’t going out to see a highway accident or a drowning — it’s a scientific laboratory! They’ve always got a hellish amount of stuff going on. That’s science. You were careless, Matvei Apollonovich!”

“Should I tell him how it really was?” Onisimov thought glumly. “No, he wouldn’t believe it.”

“But how did that first — aid doctor make such a mistake, declaring a live person dead?” thought the colonel aloud. “Oh, I have a feeling their rate of success isn’t very high. She looked at him, saw that the man was poorly, figured he’d die in the clinic anyway, and this way their statistics would look better if he was DO A.”

“Maybe she just made a mistake, Aleksei Ignatyevich,” Onisimov defended her generously. “He was in shock, deep faint, and wounded. And so she — “

“Perhaps. Too bad that Zubato wasn’t there. He always goes on the pattern of spots and marks on the body. He’s never wrong. Hm… of course, it would have been nice to have called this a solved case — the end of the quarter is coming up, and it would have looked good — but to hell with the statistics. The important thing is that everyone is alive and well. Yet,” he looked at Onisimov, “there’s still the discrepancy with Kravets’s papers. What about that?”

“Our expert couldn’t find any evidence of tampering at all, Aleksei Ignatyevich. They’re papers like any papers. Maybe the Kharkov police made a mistake.”

“Well, that’s a problem for the passport people, not us. The man didn’t commit any crimes — and the case is closed. But what about you, Matvei Apollonovich?” Aleksei Ignatyevich wrinkled up his face merrily and leaned back in his chair. “You wanted to turn the case over to the security organizations. We would really have looked wonderful if we had! Didn’t I tell you: the most seemingly confused cases are always the simplest.”

And his small wise eyes, set under heavy brows, were surrounded with a sunburst of raylike wrinkles.

They were walking through Academic Town at midday: Adam on the right, Krivoshein in the middle, Kravets on the left. The asphalt, softened by the heat, was spongy under their feet.

“Now we’ll be able to work with some knowledge,” Krivoshein was saying. “We’ve learned quite a bit and we’ll learn a lot more. And we’re getting a sense of direction, too. Victor Kravets, did Adam tell you his idea?”

“He did.”

“And why are you so indifferent to it?”

“Well, it’s just one more method. So what?”

Adam glowered, but said nothing.

“Why do you say that! The computer — womb introduces information into man firmly and for a long time, for his whole life, not just for the time of the session. And art information could change the personality of a man, improve it — well, the way they improved your appearance compared to mine! Of course, this is serious business, not like going to a movie. We’ll give them fair warning: after being processed by us you will permanently lose your ability to lie, be petty, bully, and fabricate. Not only will you be actively kept from doing evil, but you’ll even lose the ability to hold back from doing good. We can’t guarantee that you will be happy in the sense of having all your needs and wants satisfied. Life will be clearer and harder. But you will be Man!”

“A joke!” Kravets said. “A way of returning lost innocence!”

“Why do you say that?” Adam and Krivoshein exclaimed in unison.

“Because, basically you are planning to simplify and strictly program man with the help of art information. Even if it’s programming for good, for honesty, for self — denial, for a beautiful soul — you won’t have a man; you’ll have a robot! If a man doesn’t lie or bite others because he doesn’t know how it’s done, there’s no merit in his behavior. He’ll live, gather additional information and he’ll learn — and he’ll lie. It’s not hard. But if he knows how to lie and be crafty and put the squeeze on people (and we all know how it’s done; we just don’t admit it) and he knows that applying these little procedures will make his life simpler, and he still doesn’t behave that way — not because he’s afraid of being caught but because he knows that would make life for him and others less desirable — then that’s a real Man!”

“Well put,” Krivoshein said, “but complicated.”

“And people are complicated, and are becoming ever more complicated — and there’s no way to simplify them. Why can’t you see that? There’s nothing you can do. People know that evil exists in the world and they take it into account in their thoughts, words, and deeds. No matter what noble — minded information you might introduce into them and no matter how you did it, it would only make them more complex. And that’s all!”

“Wait,” Adam said angrily. “You don’t have to simplify people to make them better. You’re right: man is no robot, and you can’t limit him with a strict program of good intentions. And it shouldn’t be done. But art information could instill a clear understanding of what’s good in the long run, not just profitable, and what’s bad.”

“But his goals will remain the same and everything will be subordinate to them. And you can’t inculcate goals in a person — even good ones — otherwise you’re talking about good — natured robots.” Kravets looked at the doubles and laughed. “I’m afraid sheer technology isn’t the answer. Hasn’t it occurred to you that our search for an absolute method comes not from the mind but from a fierce engineering faith in the ability of science and technology to do everything? Yet they can’t, you know, and this approach will get us nowhere. I see a different, clear direction. A new science will develop from our research — Experimental and Theoretical Humanology. A major and necessary science, but not only a science, it will be a whole field of knowledge. It will say: here’s what you are, man. And humanotechnology will arise. It must sound horrible now — a technology of synthesis and introduction of information into man. It will include everything from medicine to mathematics and from electronics to the arts, but it will still only be technology. It will say: here’s what you can do, man. This is how you can change yourself. And then let each and every person think and decide on his own: what do you want, man? what do you want from yourself?”

Victor’s words had an effect. The three walked in silence for some time — thinking. Academic Town was left far behind. They could see the grounds and the buildings of the institute and beyond them the huge experimental hangar of the construction design bureau, shining glass and steel.

“Hey guys, what about Lena?” Adam asked and looked at Krivoshein. Kravets looked at him too.

“Just the way it was,” he insisted. “As far as she’s concerned, nothing happened, understand?”

Adam and Kravets said nothing.

They stepped into a long, chestnut — lined alley. It was shady and cooler.

“ ‘Here’s what you are, man. Here’s what you can do, man. What do you want from yourself, man? “ Krivoshein repeated. “Effectively put. Fantastically put! If I had a lot of money I’d put up an obelisk in every city with the sign: ‘People! Beware of maxims — the bearers of half — truths! There is nothing more false and dangerous than maxims, because they are formulated to accommodate our minds, not life as it is/”

Kravets gave him a careful look.

“What does that mean?”

“It means that your flaws, Vitya, old boy, are merely an extension of your good qualities. I think that Krivoshein the Original overdid it with you. Personally I could never understand why people with a well — developed sense of logic are identified with smart people.”

“Why don’t you get to the point.”

“I can get to the point, Vitya, boy. You began well: man is complicated and free, and he can’t be reorganized and programmed. There will be Humanology and Humanotechnology. And you came to the conclusion that our business is to move the science and technology and drop everything else. Let people decide for themselves. A very convenient conclusion for us, absolutely marvelous. But let’s apply your theory to another subject. Let’s say there’s a science and technology dealing with the atom. And there is you — full of the best intentions, an opponent of atomic weapons. You are given complete freedom to solve the problem: you have the keys to all the atomic arsenals, all the codes and ciphers, entrance to all atomic centers. Act!”

Adam laughed.

“How will you use this brilliant opportunity to save the world? I know how. You’ll stand in the middle of an atomic arsenal and bawl with terror.”

“Why would I be bawling?”

“Because you don’t know a thing about this stuff, just like other people don’t know about our work. Yes, there will be a science called Humanology. And there’ll be Humanotechnology. But we are the top specialists in that science and technology. And a specialist, besides his general humanitarian responsibilities, has his own as well: he’s responsible for his science and its applications! Because in the final analysis he’s doing it all, with his ideas, knowledge, and decisions. He and no one else! So, willy — nilly, it’s up to us to determine the direction of the development of the synthesis of information in man.”

“Well, let’s say that’s true.” Kravets wasn’t giving up. How will we direct it? There is no method to apply the discovery with absolute certainty for the benefit of mankind, as we had pledged a year ago!”

“Look, guys,” Adam said softly.

They all turned their heads to the left. A girl was sitting on a bench. A briefcase and crutches lay next to her. Her thin legs in black stockings were extended unnaturally. Spots of sunlight, breaking through the trees, played in her dark hair.

“Go ahead. I’ll catch up.” Krivoshein went up to her and sat down on the edge of the bench. “Hello, little girl!”

She raised her big clear eyes, no longer a child’s, at him in surprise.

“Hello.”

“Tell me, little girl,” Krivoshein smiled in his most kindly manner so that she wouldn’t take him for a drunk and get scared, “but please don’t be surprised by my question: at your school, do you spit in the ear of someone who hasn’t kept a promise?”

“No… no,” the girl answered cautiously.

“In my day, that’s what we did. That was the barbaric custom. And you know what? I give you my word: in less than a year, you will be healthy and beautiful. You’ll run and jump and ride a bike and swim in the river. It will all come true. I promise. You can spit in my ear if it doesn’t.”

The girl looked at him with full attention. An uncertain smile appeared on her lips.

“But… we don’t spit. It’s not like that at our school.”

“I see! And you won’t go to a school like that either. You’ll go to a regular school. You’ll see. I promise.”

He had nothing else to say. But the girl was looking at him so that he couldn’t possibly leave.

“My name is Sasha. What’s yours?”

“Valya… Valentin Vasilyevich.”

“I know, you live in number thirty — three. I live in thirty — nine, two houses down.”

“Well, I have to go… to work.”

“Second shift?”

“Yes, the second shift. Good — bye, Sasha.”

“Good — bye.”

He got up. He smiled and threw his head back, squinting, meaning: don’t give up now; look happy! It’ll be! She threw back her head in reply, squinted, and smiled: don’t worry, I won’t give up. And still he left with the feeling that he had abandoned someone who needed his help.

The alley led out into the street. Cars sped around beyond the last chestnut trees. All three turned around: the girl was watching them. They waved. She smiled and waved a thin arm.

“You see, Vitya, lad,” Krivoshein put his arm around Kravets’s shoulder/’you see, Vitya, I still love you, you bum, even though there’s no reason to. You should be whipped with a belt, like father used to have when we were little, but you’re too big and serious for that.”

“Drop it!” Kravets freed himself.

“You see, Vitya, our idea of a happiness button was an engineer’s dream. In general people turn to technology for relief from demands on themselves. It’s funny! It’s easy enough to create a happiness button for rats: you implant an electrode in the pleasure center of the cortex and let the rat push a lever to make contact. But that kind of happiness probably won’t do for people although there is a method that is mathematical and not with a button. And we’re reaching it empirically, slowly but surely. The fact that we’re beating our brains out to make sure it benefits people, and not just ourselves, and that we won’t accept any other way — that’s part of the method. And the fact that Adam could overcome his fears and come back with a good idea — that comes from the method, too. Of course, if the experiment had been more thoroughly prepared he might still be alive, but none of us is perfect or guaranteed everlasting life: that’s the nature of the work. And the fact that he chose to synthesize people and not microelectronic machines, which would have been simpler and more lucrative — that’s part of the method, too. And the fact that we have gathered knowledge about our discovery. We’re not dilettantes or amateurs any more — and neither work nor arguments can throw us off the track. We can throw whomever we want off. And in an honest argument, knowledge is the best weapon.”

“How about in a dishonest one?”

“It works there, too. Harry got squeezed — with the method. We got out of a tight fix and saved the project — also part of it. We can do a lot: work, and fight, and politic. Of course, it would be better if we got along, but we can manage even if we don’t. Adam, give me a cigarette, will you? I’m all out.”

Krivoshein lit up and continued:

“And in the future we should be guided by this empirical method in our work and in life. First and foremost, we work together. The most terrible thing in our work is being alone. Look what it led to. Let’s gather smart, honest, strong, and knowledgeable men around the project. To make sure that the hand of a bastard, fool, or banality never touches our discovery at any point. So that there will be someone to raise the alarm! And we’ll attract Azarov, and Vano Aleksandrovich Androsiashvili — he’s someone I’ve been thinking about. We’ll even try Valery Ivanov… and if we work this way everything will be ‘it’ including the method for duplicating people, duplicating them with alterations, and the informational transformation of regular people.”

“But this is still not an engineering solution. There is no one hundred percent guarantee,” Kravets said stubbornly. “We can try, of course. Do you think Azarov will join us?”

“Of course, where else could he go? Yes, this isn’t an engineering solution, but an organizational one. And it’s not simple; it lacks the logical simplicity we all want. But we have no choice. We’ll gather talented researchers, builders, doctors, artists, sculptors, psychologists, musicians, writers, and just simple people — they know about life and man too. We’ll start injecting our discovery into life with small but very necessary things: curing disease and deformity, correcting physical appearance and the psychological problems. And then, you’ll see, we’ll gradually develop information for a universal program for the computer — womb to instill the best that mankind has collected into the mind and body of man.”

The UPPM,” Victor said. “The Universal Program for Perfecting Man. I like it! Well, well….”

“We’ll try,” Adam said stubbornly. “There is no hundred — percent guarantee; it’s not all in our control. Maybe it won’t work. But if we don’t try, nothing will happen at all. And you know, I think that there isn’t that much work left. It’s important to shift in one or two generations the process of man’s development in the right direction, and the work will go on without computers.”

“It will all go in it.” Krivoshein remembered the last entry in the diary. “The daring of talented ideas and a child’s awe before the complex magnificence of the world, the roar of a stormy sea and the wise beauty of lab equipment, the great pain of love and the esthetics of sex, the fierceness of getting ahead and the rapture of interesting work, the blue sky and the aroma of sun — baked grass, the wisdom of old age and the confidence of maturity… and even the memory of bad times and mistakes, so that they won’t be repeated! It will all go in: the knowledge of the world, understanding one another, peace and stubbornness, dreaminess and healthy skepticism, great thoughts and the ability to achieve them. In general the greater part has been done for a good life — and there is less left to do!”

“Let people be whatever way they want to be. Just let them want!”

The sun was yellow and hot. Cars rustled and murmured past. Pedestrians shuffled through the heat. A policeman directed traffic in the intersection.

They walked on, leaving imprints in the asphalt. Three engineers on their way to work.