Standing Wave

Chapter 5. The actors, Part II

In which we learn a little more, some of it true, some of it made up

@silverstacks:
@kagetsuko What’s the name of that shop? @klimagalka @lores

@kagetsuko:
@silverstacks My aunt didn’t say, but it’s near Ala Moana beach, and it’s run by two girls. @klimagalka @lores

@silverstacks:
@kagetsuko Oh, I know it! That must be Standing Wave. It’s a real institution! @klimagalka @lores

@silverstacks:
@lores @klimagalka @kagetsuko By the way, here’s how I imagine Chinchuluun got roped into this:

I remember the day the Direktor of the Centre came into my office — the great Gury Marchuk himself, Hero of Socialist Labour. It was the day that changed my life. I was at that time working with the genius Valentin Dymnikov on a global ocean and atmospheric circulation model, a project initiated by Marchuk. Despite being so high and mighty, he was a friendly man who knew even junior staff like myself by their first name. “Lyosha,” he said, “you are the polyglot of the team, how would you feel about working with an American?”
Apart from Russian and my native Mongolian, I knew Japanese and English. I claimed it was useful for reading scientific papers, and of course it was, but in reality I was fascinated by the cultures of Japan and the US. “An American?” I asked, surprised.
“Yes. To further the bond between our two great nations, Comrade Gromyko has set up a scientist exchange programme, and the American agency NOAA is very interested in our work on the global circulation model. One of their scientists would visit us for a few months this summer.”
I was delighted and could hardly contain my enthusiasm, but I hesitated. Surely this should be Valentin’s job? He was the project lead, and spoke English as well as I did. As if guessing my thoughts, Marchuk said “Comrade Dymnikov is going on a sabbatical for a year in the spring, so he won’t be here. And don’t be too humble, Lyosha. He told me that besides himself there’s nobody better acquainted with the work than you.”
That was high praise, especially coming from Valentin Dymnikov. “I’ll be honoured,” I stammered, and I felt myself blushing.
Marchuk smiled broadly. “Wonderful!”, he said. “I will tell Comrade Alekseev to forward you the correspondence we have received so that you can make the preparations. There are quite a few technical issues to be discussed.” He turned to go. At the door, he looked back with a twinkle in his eye. “Maybe you’ll get to go to Hawaii on a return visit.”
Dr Alekseev was Marchuk’s deputy, and officially responsible for any international communications. In practice he was happy to delegate with minimal oversight. The documents he forwarded me started at the highest level, with a telegram from Gromyko himself. But the last letter in the trail was from an actual scientist at NOAA, a Lt Dr Nathan Lightman, with a list of technical questions. We wrote back an forth several times. From his letters, Nathan was a kind and considerate person, and I looked forward to his visit.
The day Nathan’s plane was due, I went to the airport as part of the welcome committee. The man in the alien uniform who climbed down the disembarkation staircase reminded me vaguely of an actor in an old US war movie.
When we met and shook hands, for an instant that seemed to last for eternity, a spark jumped between us, bright as the lightning between the terminals of a Van de Graaff generator. It painted the entire arrival hall in an electric blue light, it must have been obvious to everyone.
Then he spoke. “Hi, I’m Nathan Lightman,” he said, and reality snapped back. His voice was mellow, with a lovely American accent.
“Alexey Chinchuluun. Delighted to meet you, Dr Lightman.”

@kagetsuko:
@silverstacks sugoiiiii! @klimagalka @lores

@lores:
@silverstacks amazing, you might have been there! @klimagalka @kagetsuko

@klimagalka:
@silverstacks :blob_love_melt: so sweet! @lores @kagetsuko

Bizarre though it was, the story made total sense to me. While after the Kudirka incident guidelines had been put in place for handling defections, to ensure that “proper” defectors were no longer sent back to the USSR, no defector would have been allowed to work in such a sensitive position. So now at least we knew what had happened to the scientists and why they had stopped publishing. It also explained indirectly why the BESM-6 code was never published either. If one of the key members of the team defected to the US, it would not have been politically acceptable to use the NOAA code; so they must have removed that part, despite the superior performance. That would explain the 1980 paper. But we were no closer to solving the central mystery. On the contrary, it was now clear we would not find any publications. Finding the code was our only chance.

Next: Chapter 6. Bletchley Park