The Vitaminders laughed. The servant girls laughed quietly.
The doctor blew his nose with a honk. Then he laughed as well.
The Kazakh’s well-fed face appeared from behind the curtain:
“Masters, the driver is asking to warm his horses.”
“How many are there?” asked Slumber.
“Don’t know. They’re little ones.”
“Ah, little ones…” Slumber glanced at Bedight.
“Build them a shed,” ordered Bedight. “And give him something to eat.”
The Kazakh withdrew.
“In that case … I … need my traveling bags…,” the doctor muttered, leaning over Drowsy’s beaten body again. “And I need to wash my hands with soap.”
He was ashamed of his weakness, but couldn’t help himself: he’d sampled the Vitaminders’ products when means permitted. They made the life of a provincial doctor much easier. He allowed himself to indulge at least once every two months. But in the last year his finances had been worse, much worse: his already modest salary had been cut by eighteen percent. He’d had to refrain, and so it had been a year since Dr. Garin had shone.
He was ashamed of his weakness, and he was also ashamed of his shame, and then ashamed of this double shame. He became indignant and cursed himself abruptly and furiously:
“Idiot … Bastard … Damned hypocrite.”
His hands trembled. He had to occupy them with something, so he began to unfold the rug, fully exposing the figure lying there. The Vitaminder moaned.
Meanwhile, two girls had brought the travel bags, wiped the snow off them, and set them by the doctor. Two others brought him a pitcher of water, a basin, and a towel.
“And the soap?” asked Platon Ilich, taking off his jacket and rolling up his shirtsleeves.
“We don’t have soap,” replied Bedight.
“No? What about vodka?”
“We don’t keep any of that swill.”
“Ah, I have some alcohol…,” the doctor remembered.
Opening his travel bag, he took out a round bottle, splashed water on his hands, wiped them with the towel, and then washed them in alcohol.
“Let’s see now…” The doctor unbuttoned Drowsy’s shirt, put his stethoscope to the man’s chest, and began to listen, his eyebrows raised.
“We didn’t beat him on the heart,” said Lull Abai.
“His heart’s fine,” concluded the doctor.
He examined the Vitaminder’s limbs. The man moaned again.
“His arms and legs are in one piece.”
“We beat him on the stomach and the head,” said Slumber.
The doctor pulled up the shirt, revealing the Vitaminder’s stomach. He palpated it, concentrating, his red nose hanging over the man. The man kept on moaning.
“No swellings or internal injuries,” said the doctor, pulling the shirt down and leaning over the head. “But here it looks like we have a concussion. Has he been unconscious a long time?”
“Since yesterday.”
“Any vomiting?”
“No.”
The doctor put smelling salts under the man’s nose:
“Come on now, my good fellow.”
The Vitaminder frowned slightly.
“Can you hear me?”
A weak moan came in reply.
“Hold on just a minute now. Be patient,” the doctor comforted.
Garin took out a hypodermic and an ampoule; he rubbed the Vitaminder’s tattooed shoulder with alcohol and gave him a shot.
“It’ll get better.” He removed the hypodermic.
“Why did you roll him up in a rug?” the doctor asked.
The Vitaminders looked at one another.
“To calm him down,” Slumber answered.
“Like in a cradle.” Bedight yawned.
“We rubbed sheep fat on the soles of his feet, too,” said Lull Abai.
The doctor didn’t comment on that bit of information.
After the shot, Drowsy’s cheeks grew rosier.
“Can you move your arms and legs?” asked the doctor in a loud voice.
Drowsy moved his arms and one leg.
“Wonderful. Consequently—we know his spine is intact … What hurts?”
The blood-caked lips opened:
“Huh-huh…”
“What?”
“He-he-hed.”
“Your head hurts?”
“Uh-huh.”
“A lot?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Dizzy?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Nauseous?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Liar … Liar!” Slumber cried. “He hasn’t barfed once all this time.”
The doctor looked at Drowsy’s head:
“No fractures. Only bruises. The neck is all right.”
He retrieved some iodine and applied it to the abrasions on the man’s face. Then he applied calendula lotion.
“Metalgin-plus and rest,” said the doctor, straightening up. “And warm liquid nourishment.”
Bedight nodded in understanding.
“We were afraid he’d die,” said Lull Abai.
“No danger to his life.”
The Vitaminders smiled in relief.
“Well now, just like I said!” Bedight grinned. “Do you have any Metalgin?”
“I’ll leave you five tablets.”
“We thank you, doctor,” said Slumber, inclining his head.
The doctor took out a pack of Metalgin-plus, punched out one tablet, and gestured to the servant girclass="underline"
“A glass of water.”
The girl poured some water. The doctor placed the tablet in the patient’s mouth and held the cup for him to sip. The patient began to cough.
“Calm down. The worst is over…,” the doctor comforted him.
He held his hands over the basin. The girl poured water over them. The doctor dried his hands and rolled down his shirtsleeves:
“That’s it.”
The doctor’s heart pounded in anticipation. But he made an effort to look calm.
“Have a seat,” said Bedight, nodding toward the empty place at the square table.
The doctor sat down, tucking his legs under him.
“The product!” commanded Bedight.
Two of the young women sitting by the felt wall opened a flat trunk and removed a transparent pyramid from it. It was exactly the same kind that had broken the runner on Crouper’s sled on the snowy road yesterday.
“So that’s what it was!” thought the doctor.
He now realized just what the Vitaminder wrapped in the rug had lost and why he’d been beaten.
“And he didn’t lose just one … probably an entire case. That’s a whole fortune…”
The doctor looked at the pyramid, which the girl carefully placed in the middle of the table. He had tried the Vitaminders’ two previous products: the sphere and the cube. They weren’t transparent, and were half the size of the pyramid.
“Why didn’t I realize that it must be a product? Idiot … It was too strong. That confused me … Yes, that’s what confused me. But there must have been an entire case of it lying about on the road. A year’s worth of my salary. That’s insane!”
The doctor grinned.
“You already had a try?” asked Slumber, not understanding the doctor’s smile.
“No, of course not. I just … I’ve only tried the cube and the sphere.”
“Everyone’s tried them.” Lull Abai shrugged his beefy shoulders.
“This is a totally new, fresh product,” said Bedight, winking at the pyramid. “We’re still trying it out ourselves. Looking for the limit. Getting ready for the spring.”
The doctor nodded nervously.
“I should come back from Dolgoye by the same road…,” he thought cautiously.
Bedight pushed a button on the tabletop. A gas burner flared under the pyramid.
“It doesn’t vaporize right away,” explained Slumber.
“Not like the cube and the sphere?” Excited, the doctor sniffed and licked his lips.
“No. The entire thing has to heat evenly. About four minutes.”
“We can wait four minutes!” the doctor laughed nervously, dropping his pince-nez.
“Four minutes.” Bedight smiled.
“Four men for four minutes.” Lull Abai’s face dissolved into a smile.
* * *