Turbulence

Ivan was the embodiment of focus. Right now, workers were installing a hyperventilation system in his room, but he paid no attention to the noise outside. Fresh out of the shower, he stood in front of the bathroom mirror, posing.
His biceps and triceps shifted like rolling hills beneath his skin…

“Who am I kidding — I´m just a regular twig,” Ivan thought.

The disappointment was so strong that the towel wrapped around his waist slipped, pausing momentarily at his hips as if something still held it there.

“No, I’m not that excited to meet Professor Moldor,” he told himself, shaking off the thought as the towel finally dropped to the floor.

He freshened up with deodorant, put on clean underwear, and stepped out of the bathroom.

His once quiet room was now covered in protective mats, drills roaring, and a few tight-lipped workers in blue jackets busily fixing the hyperventilation system.

“Hey guys!” Ivan tried to yell over the screeching drill.

“I’m — he — ad — ing — out,” he gestured, as verbal communication was hopeless in the noise.

The one in a cap — probably the foreman — nodded and waved.

“They won’t steal anything,” Ivan thought. “Or at least they better not. I’d bury them on the spot.”

In any case, it was impossible to relax or study at home right now. He had no Thursday classes this semester, it was 12:30, which meant…

“Alright, fine, I’m going to Moldor for the consultation, I’m going,” Ivan muttered as he left the dorm and headed toward the university campus.

***

Akemi already regretted volunteering to collect the samples. It only got worse once she returned to the lab. She meant well — but, as always, it backfired. Trying not to show her nerves, she rushed to the restroom, relieved herself, washed her trembling hands, and looked in the mirror.

“What’s causing the shakes?”

A beautiful black-haired girl stared back at her. Droplets of water on her glasses distorted her reflection unpleasantly. She took them off, pulled a tissue from the dispenser, wiped the lenses, and put them back on.

“What’s causing the shakes?” she repeated to her reflection. Her hands still trembled.

She bent over the sink, flipped her hair from the left side to the right, turned on the tap, and greedily drank from her hands. She wiped her mouth with her lab coat sleeve, stood up, and bared her teeth in a fierce grin. The reflection no longer asked questions. She exhaled in satisfaction.

A young intern who had just entered watched the scene in surprise.

“What are you staring at?” Akemi nodded at her. “Go ahead, it’s not occupied. Unless you want to pee yourself.”

The girl looked at her with a mix of shock and fear, nodded mechanically, and rushed into a stall.

Akemi smoothed her lab coat and walked out.

“Ugh… what’s gotten into me?”

She had never been that blunt and rough before — not even in all-female spaces.

***

Reifenberg remembered how he’d recently chewed out the military, comparing them to “generals in their own mazes.” And now, one phone call from Tai Ming had turned everything upside down.

“Easy for him to speculate,” he thought, “acting like some caricature from a novel. But what am I supposed to do?” He took a deep breath from his oxygen tank.

“No, seriously — he calls me, says he’s found a new lilac variety. Great. Even came up with a name—Heimlich. Okay, fine, good for him. But what the hell am I supposed to do with that?” In frustration, he ripped Tai Ming’s letter and fed the shreds into the shredder.

The "Airhole” project was already approved. The best minds were on it — not just minds, but resources and funding, too...

Heinz Reifenberg was no mindless bureaucrat, devoid of common sense. He understood perfectly well — but right now, he was at a loss for how to reverse the gears of the state machine. Even a whole ministry couldn’t fix this.

He took another deep breath and jotted down a few notes. Well… this was exactly the kind of moment when having “free hands” paid off.

“Remember,” his father used to say, “the higher you climb, the more you must consider those beneath you. Not just out of gratitude — but because they have freedoms no minister ever dreams of.”

His father had long since passed, but that advice had never been more relevant. And he did have such “free hands” — those two in the Heidelberg lab, at the very least. He didn’t see it as corruption — more like mutual optimization of workflow.

Reifenberg dialed a number.

“Yes, Minister,” answered Tai Ming.

“This so-called ‘Heimlich’ — can you send a sample?”

“To you?”

“Of course not,” Reifenberg chuckled. “To one of our labs. I’ll give you the address.”

“I’m not sure it’ll survive the trip...”

“It’s not far — it’ll arrive the same day. We’ll handle the transport conditions,” said Reifenberg.

“Well, then…”

“Greedy old bastard,” Reifenberg thought. “You just don’t want to let it out of your collection.” Aloud, he said:

“Look, try to decide today. If you need materials for sensitive transport — we’ll provide them. Just don’t delay.”

“Understood,” said Tai Ming, hanging up with a frown. He didn’t like being rushed. Rushing others — that was his job. But this time, he had to deal with it.

***

“So, the old weirdo was persuaded — he finally proved himself useful,” Reifenberg noted to himself with satisfaction. “If only I knew who his ‘reliable source’ was. But that can wait.”

He took another breath from the tank and dialed the Heidelberg lab. Busy signal. Reifenberg stared at the phone in surprise. The number was right. He redialed. Still busy. He opened the secure messenger and sent a quick note — “no access”.

“What the hell?” he muttered, raising his hands.

***

The moment Akemi left the restroom, the lab was shaken violently. Flasks, books, and document folders fell from shelves. The lights went out, and emergency lighting kicked in — just two red warning lamps, barely illuminating the room.

Akemi instinctively dove under the nearest table. At that very moment, something crashed from the ceiling onto it. The tabletop cracked, but held.

“Whew, good timing,” Akemi thought. She peeked out carefully. A few people had run out. The rest — seven or eight lab techs plus Thomas — were hiding under tables, just like her.

Another powerful tremor hit. Paper, stationery, jars of supplies, and other lab clutter flew everywhere. Furniture was tossed into corners. Tables and chairs slammed into walls. And then… everything went quiet.

“What’s causing the shakes?” Akemi shouted, crawling out.

“An earthquake?” someone guessed.

“Sure looks like one,” Thomas replied from the far corner, also emerging from under a table. “But when do those ever happen in Germany?”

“No, this is an earthquake,” Akemi thought. She’d been through a couple like it in Japan — during summer visits to her grandmother. Once you’ve felt it, it’s unmistakable.

The warning lamps went out. For a second, the lab was in darkness, then natural light returned. People started coming out of hiding. The girl Akemi had seen in the bathroom rushed out — apparently she’d waited it out in there.

Akemi looked around. What a mess. Just thinking about the cleanup gave her a headache. Even with everyone pitching in, it wouldn’t be easy.

Then the phone rang — amazingly, it had survived the quake (if that was a quake). Akemi picked it up.

“Heidelberg Lab.”

“This is Reifenberg. What the hell is going on there? I’ve been trying to reach you for fifteen minutes. Can you hear me?”

“Loud and clear, Minister. We just…” Akemi paused, unsure how to describe the chaos.

“Force majeure,” Thomas cut in.

“I’ve always wanted to use that phrase in the right context,” he thought.

“Doesn’t matter,” Reifenberg said, not pressing for details. “Can you receive a sample? I mean by physical mail. Tomorrow morning.”

Akemi looked around again, assessed the damage, tucked her hair behind her ear, and replied:

“Yeah, we should be able to.”

“I’m not asking,” snapped Reifenberg. “I’m telling you. You will receive a package tomorrow morning.”

Akemi rolled her eyes theatrically.

“Yes, of course — we’ll receive it tomorrow,” she said, trying to sound as agreeable as possible.

“The ‘Heimlich’ variety. Instructions will be inside.” Reifenberg, as usual, hung up without saying goodbye.

“What a terrible habit,” Akemi grimaced.

She and Thomas exchanged a glance and nodded at each other. In moments like this, Akemi liked to imagine they could understand each other without words.

She stretched her arms out — they were no longer shaking. Now she was more interested in finding out the cause of a different kind of shakes.