by Ruskin Bond
About five minutes passed this way; nobody said a word. There was no movement either except the slight swaying one undergoes when one stands at one place for a long time. Brennan was keeping a watch on the pressure metre, it was in the low minus six range, soon it would be minus seven. Brennan turned the electron beam switch on. The electron micrograph monitor was already on; it had not been turned off. The screen had gone black earlier when Brennan had switched the electron beam off. It was now the same way – no sign of a micrograph. Brennan's eyes were now fixed only on the micrograph monitor, but there was nothing on. The pressure entered the minus seven range; the situation on the micrograph screen remained unchanged.
Brennan kept his eyes intently on the screen; by now a slight frown had formed between his eyebrows. This seemed to defy explanation – the beam was on, the pressure low, and yet. . . . And it was not any nasty gas, it was helium. But, was it helium? Who knows what the gas companies supply in this god-forsaken place. He had not seen anything like this in an electron microscope before, but it was also true that he had not seen such composite machines either. What should he do? Time was passing.
Virendra's face was under enough control so that his true emotions were not showing, because if they did, then ironically it would be one of simple relief. After all, this was the result they got the last time they were at the machine. All Dr Brennan's showing off made no difference. Virendra had decided not to comment unless called upon to do so; therefore he remained silent. He once looked at Sreekanth, and they exchanged a meaningful glance. They decided to wait patiently until Brennan had anything to say. Agarwal was still sitting on his chair, but he had anxiety and concern on his face; his apparent hope that Brennan would be able to solve the problem quickly had not borne fruit, and he felt insecure.
More than twenty minutes had passed but there was no prognosis. By then Brennan had gone into a routine type of check-up mode; he was letting five minutes pass by the panel timer before he turned the electron beam on and then checked it for half a minute to see whether there was any micrograph, and then turned the beam off and waited for another five minutes of pumping. He continued for another ten minutes, found nothing new, turned the beam off once more, and then got up from the chair and slowly turned around to face Virendra, Sreekanth, and Mukul. His facial expression was an admixture of uncertainty, concern, and defeat.
He was not sure where the trouble lay. He looked at Virendra and said flatly, 'The machine does not seem to be working.' Virendra received the sentence without any emotion, kept his gaze straight on Brennan's eyes, and continued to remain quiet.
Brennan seemed to have run out of tests to try. He asked Sreekanth, 'Where did you get the cylinder of helium?'
'Matheson,' Sreekanth answered dispassionately. There could be no more questions along that line.
'Well, well, let us try something else, and yet not give up on this.' It seemed that someone had just given Brennan a shot in the arm. He behaved with a good deal of energy, although those who were watching him could easily notice that a good part of that was contrived. He continued, looking at Sreekanth, 'I suggest that you carry on with what I was doing; that is, testing every five minutes for the micrograph, as the pressure continues to go down. I, in the meantime, shall try to assemble the electron lens that will be mounted to augment the electron optics.'
Sreekanth nodded, but the next moment looked at Virendra to see whether Virendra had anything else to say. Virendra simply said, 'Go ahead.' Sreekanth went back and sat at the chair Brennan was occupying a while ago. He turned the electron beam on, but there was no sign of a micrograph.
Brennan went back to the laboratory table, stood next to Agarwal where his briefcase was. He took out several plastic envelopes containing high vacuum parts and laid them side by side on a piece of computer paper that was already on the table. Virendra was feeling a bit tired standing all that time; he decided to sit down. He walked down to the table, chose a chair far from where Agarwal was sitting, and looked towards where Brennan was handling the stainless steel parts with nylon gloves on and where Sreekanth also was sitting. Virendra was getting dispirited; a feeling was coming over to him that nothing would be accomplished by the end of the day.
The main door opened again, and Mukul appeared. He left his sandals outside the glass door, and entered the room. He turned his head right to glance at Sreekanth, then towards left to Brennan and Agarwal, then looked in the direction of Virendra, walked down a few steps, pulled a chair from between Virendra and Agarwal and sat down facing the centre of the room. His face appeared flushed, his body seemed to be radiating heat, he was sweating profusely; it was obvious that he felt great comfort in the coolness of the room. He took out a handkerchief from his pocket, wiped his forehead, cheeks, and his neck. He put the handkerchief back into his pocket and looked at Virendra. Virendra looked at him, but decided not to ask him any question in the presence of the visitors about his efforts to acquire the regulator. Virendra asked instead, 'Very hot outside, is it?'
'Yes sir, very hot,' Mukul replied. He took Virendra's restraint in asking further questions as a hint; he did not say anything further either. He decided he could tell Virendra sometime later about his findings. In a couple of minutes, he got up and walked to Sreekanth and stood behind him to watch what Sreekanth was doing.
Brennan took another fifteen minutes to make a full arrangement of the parts, then took out a large blueprint from his packet of drawings and spread it on the table. To its right lay the shiny parts of the new lens system. Brennan examined the parts again against the list and the drawings given in the blueprint, and seemed satisfied at the end. Then something occurred to him. He looked at Virendra and asked, 'Mr Stafford told me that when he came to do the installation he left a spare lens-mounting bracket here. Do you have it?' 'Yes, we should have it,' replied Virendra. He got up from the chair, walked a couple of steps towards Brennan, turned right and squatted in front of a desk drawer. He pulled the drawer out, lifted a wooden box, and placed it on the table. 'It must be here.'
Brennan walked down to Virendra, looked into the box, picked up a pair of semicircular parts and said, 'Here they are. Thank you.' He walked back to the place where he had left the other parts. Virendra also walked with him and stood near him to see what he was doing. Brennan juxtaposed those semicircular parts on a ringlike structure that was already on the table among the parts comprising the new lens assembly. No sooner had he placed the parts on the ring, apparently to do a comparison, than Brennan frowned, seemed to be in utter disbelief, and said, 'Oh, no!'
Virendra had been showing enormous restraint. Although he felt that Brennan's exclamation was in recognition of some mistake, he did not ask a question. He waited. Brennan repeated the act of placing the old brackets on the ringlike structure several times, no longer for any comparison, but more in despair and as a refrain to accompany his thoughts. It seemed that he was mildly and inaudibly grinding his teeth as well. All the time Brennan noticed that Virendra was standing next to him and watching all his moves. After some time he stopped playing with the metal parts, turned to Virendra and said looking at his eyes, 'It seems that we have a small problem here.'
From whatever reaction of Brennan Virendra had just noticed, Virendra would have thought that the problem was not small, but big. He inquired looking at Brennan, 'What's wrong?'
'Well, MatTech makes these augmenting lenses in three sizes, depending on the machines they go into. Your machine needed the medium size. Somehow, during packing the parts, they have given the small size,' Brennan said.
So, Virendra's guess was correct; there was a major blunder. As an employee of MatTech, Brennan could not speak loudly about that, in fact he had to play it down. Virendra could not see that his own face saddened; he only felt that his jaws were pressing against each other. Brennan smiled apologetically, 'Well, it could be worse. If they had given the large size, we could not do a thing. Now we can still mount it provided we put a part in between as a shim. Do you h
ave a workshop here which could machine a couple of parts for us? I can make a sketch and write down the dimensions.'
Virendra felt exasperated. But he had vowed that he would not show his emotion; no progress would be achieved here through that. But precision machining of parts? And that too on short notice? Out of the question. Half the workshop workers were not visible in fair weather; and now it was summer at its peak. The workshop started at seven in the morning, the workers would be leaving in an hour or so. The overtime rules were so complicated now, one could never satisfy the constraints. And how few could do stainless steel machining with right tolerances? Barely one or two. But one must try until the last point; after these people leave today it might be another year before they showed up – at least that has been the past experience.
'Yes, we have a workshop here. But it is not easy to get precision parts made at short notice. My guess is that it would be difficult anywhere in the world.' Virendra had started emotionless, but at the end a puff of steam came out. He perceived it and quickly controlled himself and said, 'However, we shall try. Make a sketch of the parts including the dimensions and tolerances you require. We will see what can be done.'
Brennan did not react, he simple nodded yes. He went to the table, sat down, pulled out a paper pad and started making drawings. Virendra walked down to Sreekanth and asked, 'What did you find?'
'Nothing new, sir,' Sreekanth replied without turning. 'There is still no micrograph on the screen. I think it will be exactly like the last time. Only after a couple of hours' time the micrograph will return on the screen.'
'I don't know whether you heard it or not,' Virendra said lowering his voice, 'we have a different problem in mounting the additional lens. A couple of stainless parts are to be made quickly. You know what it means. I don't know how to do that. Our only hope is Rajani, but I can't be sure. Anyway, you stay here, comply and help them with whatever they request, I shall go out and see what can be done about the parts.'
In the meantime Brennan had completed his sketch, had stood up, and was looking at Virendra to see when he would be free, and from time to time was also looking at the sketch. Agarwal was still sitting; now he was in a thinking mode, with his elbow supported on the armrest and fingers of his right hand on the cheek. After Virendra was through with Sreekanth, he turned back and found Brennan waiting for him at the table. He walked up to Brennan. 'Here is a sketch of the parts; two identical pieces to be made out of non-magnetic stainless steel,' Brennan said.
Virendra looked at the drawing. There were a couple of circular segments and a couple of straight cuts. So, the complications were more. It would need both turning and milling. After he finished examining it, he asked Brennan, 'How close do the tolerances of the straight portions have to be?'
'I have written that down here, plus or minus five thousandths of an inch. The precision is important because the flat edge would have to fit in a slot on the lens we have brought along,' Brennan said.
'All right, we shall try, but I am quite unsure about what would be possible at this short notice, Virendra said without any emotion.
'Sure, I understand,' Brennan said.
'We will try a couple of workshops in the university, and then inform you about what would be possible,' Virendra said. Then indicating Sreekanth, he added, 'Sreekanth will be here. He will provide any technical help you need.'
'Fine. I am sorry to have caused this trouble. But I think if we can mount the lens and find out how much it augments the image, we will make some progress,' Brennan said.
Agarwal was awake and up. He came close to Virendra and said with a contrived smile, 'Doctor saab, we are very sorry for the trouble; if we knew ahead of time about it, we ourselves would have done something. It would really help the installation work if the new lens could be mounted.'
'Yes,' Virendra said indifferently, and then addressing Varma and Mukul, he said, 'come with me. I need your help.' Mukul and Varma nodded. Virendra looked around at the laboratory and everybody, then walked towards the glass door. Mukul and Varma followed him.
An atmosphere of hot air greeted them as soon as they came out into the corridor from the laboratory. 'God, it is going to be quite a day!' Virendra said as his body felt the hot envelope. He continued, 'Anyway, we have little choice; we shall have to go through it. Mukul, do one thing. Go to the metallurgy workshop and find out whether Jadav is there and whether he would do this turning-cum-milling job right away. And incidentally, did you have any success with the regulator in any other laboratory?'
'No sir,' Mukul replied. Then added, 'No laboratory has a nitric oxide regulator except Dr Jha's.'
'All right, go now,' Virendra said.
They were now on the second floor landing. No one seemed to be around. There was shade, but the air was unbearably hot. All of them walked down by the staircase. Mukul turned right and went towards the metallurgy workshop. Virendra and Varma turned left, and left again to come out of the building and were right under the catwalk. After a few steps they turned right, came out of the shade of the catwalk, and walked towards the main workshop. That would be a good hundred yards of walk mostly in the open sun with only short stretches under trees.
Virendra and Varma walked side by side. The air was intensely hot; Virendra's body had already got heated by the ambient air. He was talking to Varma, 'If Rajani is not there, then we really have a problem. We may have to go to the city, but I don't know anyone who can and also be willing to do such a composite turning-cum-milling job. The extent one has to go to get even a small thing working is too much.'
They walked silently for some distance. Varma was also feeling the heat; his face indicated that. A bicycle was coming towards them from the workshop side. The rider had a towel wrapped around his face to reduce the effect of heat – a common local practice. As the bicycle was about to pass them, the rider made a bow by lowering his head momentarily to Virendra. Virendra acknowledged it with a nod. He had no idea whatever who the rider was. This happened to Virendra all the time. Almost all staff, most faculty members, and some students used some protection around their head when moving in the sun during the summer. Virendra never wore any headgear, probably never would; he always felt that contraption too cumbersome.
Virendra was pondering what the need of the next hour would be. He asked Varma, 'Where are you eating these days? Have you joined the hostel mess?'
'Yes sir. I have joined the Hostel Five mess, but the food is so terrible these days that most of the time one does not feel like going to the mess to eat,' Varma replied. After a few steps he continued, 'This summer when I returned from home, first I joined the mess, then I found the food so bad that I left for a while andm went around eating in various canteens on a daily basis; then the irregularity became too much, so I am back to the mess again.'
Virendra smiled and said, 'This is the time when you should invite your faculty counsellor and the warden to dinner.'
They had now reached the workshop area. These were huge one-storey structures with high ceilings and slanting asbestos roof. Virendra and Varma entered the longest one among those. There was a wide corridor inside with a wooden partition to the right. They walked along the corridor until they reached a door to the right. They entered through it and were right in the middle of the main workshop of the university. There were several rows of various kinds of machines: lathes, milling machines, large drills, shapers – the facility seemed to be a substantial one. There were very few people though. At a distance three persons were in a huddle around a milling machine. To the right corner two persons were talking. At the farthest end, one person was working on a lathe.
Virendra walked straight towards the group at the milling machine. He knew one of the workers in the group. The worker also recognised Virendra and greeted, 'Namastay, doctor saab. You have come this way after a long time.'
'Namastay. Do you know where Rajani is?' Virendra asked.
'Rajani has not come today. He is on leave for two days,' the man replie
d.
'My God, we are in trouble,' Virendra said with desperate concern.
'Why? What is the problem?' the man asked.
'Well, we have to get a couple of stainless parts made right away. An engineer from abroad has come to install our machine; if these parts are not made, he will go away leaving the machine uninstalled,' Virendra explained.
'If I were in a position to help, doctor saab, I would,' the man said. 'Within an hour the workshop will close and the supervisors are not allowing any overtime work. This job has turning work, and after the turning job is done, then milling has to be done. It is just not possible.'
Virendra got the total picture. It was impossible to get the job done at the university workshop, even with all the machines around. What could be an alternative? Virendra became pensive. After a minute something struck him. He turned to the man again.
'Wasn't there somebody here who had a small workshop at the gate?' Virendra inquired.
'Yes, Dwivedi. He is there.' The man pointed at the group at the right corner. 'You could ask him. But doctor saab, please go and talk directly; I do not wish to go; we do not get along. But he has no milling machine; will he be able to deliver the job to right tolerances?'
'Let me see first whether he would take the job; tolerances would come later,' Virendra said to the man. 'Many many thanks,' Virendra gave a warm smile and then walked towards the right corner where Dwivedi was standing. Varma followed Virendra.