by his beloved teacher's concern. «But, as you know, we go wherever the Motherland sends us.»
Lepeikin's tone became serious:
«I wish you good luck. And take care of yourself…» His worry was evident.
«Don't worry, Professor. You and I will be designing roads beyond the Arctic Circle!»
In reality, Leonid was experiencing conflicting emotions. He was pleased with his new assignment: being entrusted with such a responsible task fueled his enthusiasm. On his way home, he already began envisioning future routes, searching for the one true direction in the impenetrable wilderness. However, his joy was tempered by the need to explain the situation to his wife. He couldn't fathom being apart for a year, and perhaps even longer. How could he hint at the possibility of taking his family with him?
The task was further complicated by the fact that the survey was set to begin in March, before the spring floods thawed the roads.
Olga immediately sensed that her husband was withholding something when he shared how his day had gone. She observed him playing with their daughter, and though she didn't rush him or ask any questions, she knew he would eventually confide in her. Nonetheless, she couldn't help but feel anxious: his hesitation indicated that the matter was serious.
Once Irina fell asleep, Leonid, looking guilty, started to speak hesitantly:
«Olga…»
«A business trip?»
«No, Olga. An expedition.»
«Does that mean for a long time?» For some reason, Olga wasn't taken aback by the news.
«Not only that. It's also very far away.»
To be honest, she had anticipated something like this for a while. The development of Siberia was a constant topic of conversation among her husband's friends, who debated the best routes to lay, considering the challenges of climate and terrain.
«And what do the guidelines say for pioneer families in such situations?»
He smiled (acknowledging her irony!):
«The guidelines do not prohibit families from accompanying survey party personnel.»
He then continued with a furrowed brow:
«But you could stay. I even think it might be better for you to stay. You see, this is the northeast of the Siberian region, almost Yakutia (the professor's words came to mind, by the way), and it's uncertain how Irina will tolerate this climate.»
«Look, I won't pretend that I'm thrilled about all of this. But how long will the expedition last: six months, a year? What's your vision for our family life?»
«She wants to go? Great!» That was exactly the answer he had hoped for.
«Our life will be beautiful and extraordinary!»
«Shh, you'll wake her.»
«And we'll have a few more babies.»
… Falling asleep, Leonid said:
«And by the way, I'm the head of the party…»
The small caravan, having departed from Irkutsk, was resolutely pushing forward through the snowy kingdom – everything around them was a pristine white: the road, the trees, and even the horses' faces were covered in hoarfrost. Olga couldn't help but reminisce about the long journey on the comfortably heated «international» carriage of the swift Moscow-Vladivostok train that had commenced from the Yaroslavl station in the capital. But now, for her, a native of the blessed warm lands, the discomfort was palpable: they had traveled, probably, over a thousand versts (if one were to reckon in the old way) from Irkutsk. She thought wistfully: «What a Decembrist wife! If only I had known…» While Moscow was already experiencing the thaw, winter here showed no signs of receding, and they were drawing near the location where the expedition was to be established. Traveling along the ancient Irkutsk-Yakutsk postal road felt especially arduous due to their unaccustomedness to the conditions.
«Tell me, Leonid, who needs railroads in this remote place?»
«People live everywhere…»
It felt as though the snowy thicket had no end, but then the aroma of smoke reached their senses, and a settlement suddenly emerged on the path. The sleigh entered a courtyard, almost concealed under the snow, and stopped beside a hut adorned with exquisite carvings, like something out of a fairy tale.
The driver tossed aside his heavy fur attire and assisted the travelers. The house was warm and toasty, and at a long table, men were gathered, sipping tea. From the cups, saucers, and the towering samovar, fragrances of tea and medicinal herbs wafted through the air. Steam emanated from the frost as newcomers entered. A robust woman, seemingly the hostess, hurried over to them. She helped them with their coats and expressed concern over Irina:
«The child, the child is completely frozen! Have some tea, it will warm you up.»
The bewildered little girl gazed at the captivating scene and was unwilling to let go of her father's hand.
After they had shed their outerwear, cups were brought to them, filled with surprisingly salty tea mixed with milk (they later learned it was a traditional drink in these parts). Witnessing the perplexed expressions of the new guests, Nadezhda threw up her hands:
«Oh, right! The child needs something sweet! I'll go make some.»
Soon after dinner, they fell asleep almost instantly. And before dawn, beneath the still starry sky, they set off once more.
After a few days, the road led them to the river, and they continued their journey along the Lena's bank. Eventually, the road immersed itself back into the forest. They arrived at their destination, the unknown Kirensk, when the sun was already setting. The pines parted, revealing a remarkably beautiful sight: a small town amidst a snow-covered field adorned with tracks of sledges and skis – the frozen river itself (the opposite bank was dotted with boats trapped in ice). In this bend of the Lena River, where it merged with the Kirenga, stood the village. The snow gleamed with a pink hue in the setting sun, and bluish columns of smoke billowed above the huts – this is how Olga would later recollect her very first impression of Kirensk.
They were expected upon arrival. The chairman of the district council, Kurekhin, had received a telegram from Moscow requesting all possible assistance to the survey expedition, and thus everyone who arrived was promptly accommodated in their homes.
The next day, Kurekhin decided to give them a tour. He showed up in the morning, inquired if they needed anything, and suggested a walk:
«You will be able to take a look at our town, the sights, so to speak», and, glancing skeptically at Olga, added, «Just dress warmer, we don't have the climate for the capital's… styles here.»
«Understood, girls?» Leonid laughed. «You won't even need to unpack those styles.»
The Mirachevskys hadn't expected to find anything captivating in this remote wilderness, but it would have been impolite to decline the hospitable host's offer. They strolled along the street, where the occasional passers-by stopped to greet them and observe the newcomers with curiosity. The town was truly bustling, featuring stone and log houses, many adorned with mezzanines and peculiar shutters on the windows. Some of these houses had once belonged to prosperous
