"E.Voiskunsky, I.Lukodyanov. The Crew Of The Mekong (англ.)" - читать интересную книгу автора "Look here, Boris," said Koltukhov. "Do you think it's fair to let your
imagination run wild and make those two young men pay for it by wasting their time and energy?" "I'm not making them do anything. They started experimenting without sufficient theoretical grounding. I told them what to read and gave them some advice. That's all." "Then why does Nikolai spend every free minute of his time in the automation department, showering everyone there with questions?" Privalov shrugged his shoulders. "Aren't you letting your own imagination run wild? Dabbling in resins like an alchemist, in between conferences?" "I'm doing something useful. I'm improving pipeline insulation materials." "But you've done that already. Now you're making some smelly new compounds. People have to hold their noses when they go past your den under the stairway." Koltukhov merely grinned. "All right," he said, lighting another cigarette. "I'll let you in on my secret. My idea is a much better one than yours. How do we protect our pipes and steel structures from corrosion by sea water? By covering them with insulation. Besides being expensive, this method isn't always dependable. When cracks form in the insulation, corrosion goes ahead faster than ever, as you yourself know. Another way of controlling corrosion is by using electricity, but this is expensive too, and it involves a lot of work. You have to string transmission lines and bring a positive charge to the have an electrostatic charge at the same time." "Not a bad idea," said Privalov. "But mine is better. It does away with both pipes and insulation." Koltukhov dismissed it with a wave of his hand. "You talk like a college boy, Boris." The car drove into the Institute yard. "Is old man Bagbanly in town?" Privalov asked. "I think so. Why?" "I'd like to get in touch with him." "Yes, do go and have a talk with him. He'll throw cold water on your idea, if anyone does." They sat on the balcony drinking tea. Professor Bakhtiar Bagbanly thoughtfully stirred his glass as he gazed out on the broad crescent of city lights skirting the bay. A Corresponding Member of the Academy of Sciences, he was a clever, erudite man with the skilful hands of a gifted experimenter. He had been Privalov's favourite lecturer when Privalov was an undergraduate twenty years before. Many of Professor Bagbanly's former students dropped in to discuss their work with him. He was generous with his knowledge and advice, and he addressed all the young people by their first names. They addressed him in the Eastern fashion as "Bakhtiar Muellim", meaning "Teacher Bakhtiar". The old man had a large grey head, black eyebrows and a drooping silvery moustache beneath a hooked nose. Professor Bakhtiar Bagbanly fixed his twinkling brown eyes on Privalov |
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