Fresh air cut his lungs as if before that Sivushov had been breathing exclusively with the exhaust of some antediluvian Ural. Having passed the last steps, the major went up to a small fence, which, like a miniature fence, fenced off the descent to the laboratory along the perimeter from the rest of the world, and leaned on it with both hands. Anger still raged in his chest. Primitive and seething, it demanded an immediate exit. The young body was literally convulsing from the desire to destroy, kill and destroy everything in its path.

Stepan suddenly felt that they were looking at him. Turning his head to the left, he...