Mikhail Bulgakov. The Fateful Eggs -
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"Has the protective clothing arrived?"
"Yes, today."
Persikov was somewhat reassured by this and brightened up.
"Then I think we'll proceed like this. We can close the doors of the
operating-room tight and open up the windows."
"Of course," Ivanov agreed.
"Three helmets?"
"Yes, three."
"Well then, that's you and me, and we'll ask one of the students. He
can have the third helmet."
"Grinmut would do."
"That's the one you've got working on salamanders, isn't it? Hm, he's
not bad, but, if you don't mind my saying so, last spring he didn't know the
difference between a Pseudotyphlops and a Platyplecturus," Persikov added
with rancour.
"But he's not bad. He's a good student," Ivanov defended him.
"We'll have to go without sleep completely for one night," Persikov
went on. "Only you must check the gas, Pyotr Stepanovich. The devil only
knows what it's like. That Volunteer-Chem lot might send us some rubbish."
"No, no," Ivanov waved his hands. "I tested it yesterday. You must give
them some credit, Vladimir Ipatych, the gas is excellent."
"What did you try it on?"
"Some common toads. You just spray them with it and they die instantly.
And another thing, Vladimir Ipatych. Write and ask the GPU to send you an
electric revolver."
"But I don't know how to use it."
"I'll see to that," Ivanov replied. "We tried one out on the Klyazma,
just for fun. There was a GPU chap living next to me. It's a wonderful
thing. And incredibly efficient. Kills outright at a hundred paces without
making a sound. We were shooting ravens. I don't even think we'll need the
gas."
"Hm, that's a bright idea. Very bright." Persikov went into the comer,
lifted the receiver and barked:
"Give me that, what's it called, Lubyanka."
The weather was unusually hot. You could see the rich transparent heat