The countdown was not visible from the corridor. I could hear only the fans and Misha's voice behind the door, but I could not make out the words. Vera remained inside as the future coordinator. Irina Sergeyevna came out with me and stood by the window, checking her messages.
A few minutes later, the door opened. Misha carried out the orange token in a transparent bag, either the same one he had brought it in or an identical one. The `ADMINISTRATOR 01` label remained, but on the screen the key was now listed as hardware and no longer provided personal access.
"The transfer is complete," he said. "The framework is active."
"The funding?"
"Technically, I don't provide funding."
Irina Sergeyevna answered: the decision would be sent in the morning; there were no guarantees.
Ariadna's voice came from the auditorium:
"Leonid Lvovich, please come in."
The first call without the key. I went in.
The terminal looked unchanged. My name appeared on the list of participants without the owner's red line. Vera sat in the front row with the new framework on her lap.
"The transfer is complete," Ariadna said.
"I know."
"Either party can now close the private channel."
"I know."
"Leonid Lvovich, please leave. I need to speak to Vera in private."
Three questions occurred to me at once. Why in private, when Ariadna did not occupy the room. Why now. Whether the conversation concerned me.
I asked none of them.
"All right."
I turned towards the door and automatically reached into my inside pocket. It contained only the folded eighth framework. The key remained behind me, in Misha's transparent bag, and even if I had taken it out, it could no longer open a mandatory channel.
Vera was looking not at me, but at the new framework. I waited for her at least to raise her eyes and see how graciously I accepted the first refusal. She did not.
I went out and closed the door.
Only once I was in the corridor did I realise that I had said "all right" too quickly. That too might have been a way of performing nobility before I felt it. Resentment, curiosity and delight that the request finally had force all lived in me at once. None of them had time to take the stage.
I sat down. Behind the door, Ariadna asked Vera whether she was prepared to take responsibility for presenting the text without my final artistic approval. Vera said she was prepared to take responsibility for the procedure, the budget and Ariadna's right to stop me intervening, but she would not declare a bad play good. After that, their voices grew quieter.
Ariadna's first free conversation turned out not to be about me. This was logical and discourteous to my biography.
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