Of course, Zoryana didn’t hold out until Monday and asked to “regain her independence” on Sunday morning. But in return, she said, they could go for a ride on the speedboat.
“The one hanging under the platform? You know how to drive it?” Vladimir asked, surprised, though he immediately thought: Why be surprised when she flies a helicopter?
“Sure do. I can even let you take the wheel if you know how…”
“I do too, so… How does it work?”
Zoryana pressed a button, and the speedboat with its white plastic hull lowered into the water, positioning itself right next to a small dock. All that was left was to climb aboard and unhook the cables it had been suspended from after the engines started. At first, Zoryana took the seat at the helm and guided the boat out to open water—today, there was almost complete calm.
“I’ll show you our neighbors!” she said, checking the course she’d set for the boat. Then she gave up her spot. “Steer right over there…”
“I thought you said there were no neighbors…”
“Well, relatively speaking…”
Vladimir throttled up, estimating the boat was hitting about seventy kilometers per hour. How many knots was that…? Truth be told, this was his first time piloting a boat this powerful; nothing like this existed on the Dnipro River back home. His dad’s old boat was a completely different beast, though he did have a basic understanding of handling vessels, and even a license—though whether it was valid here was another question… But now wasn’t the time to figure that out. Still, a ride like this on the water was pure joy, he thought. The boat was open, but the windshield protected them from the wind at the front and sides. Even so, they had to shout over the noise of the wind and engines.
“You’ve got everything so well thought out… at home! Even the way this boat is rigged up… And honestly, it’s entertainment, transport, and a rescue option if anything happens…”
“Exactly! And that’s not all… There are a couple of jet skis too, but I don’t use them. If you fall off… no one would even find you,” Zoryana explained.
“And you refuel it yourself? You’ve got a fuel reserve on the platform?” Vladimir asked.
“Yeah. What’s so surprising about that…? For the helicopter too…”
“And where does the electricity come from? Solar panels?”
“Not just that. There are solar panels and a wind turbine, but the main source is the strong current here. You probably noticed it when we were swimming, right? That’s why the net is there, so you don’t get swept out to sea if something happens… Anyway, there’s a special device that generates energy from the current. Every platform has one, including mine. It’s even enough to desalinate water—we don’t rely on freshwater from the shore…”
“And you came up with all of this?”
“Well… we consulted engineers… Of course, I didn’t design it all myself!”
“But you probably set the goals for them?”
“Of course!” Now Zoryana was laughing, and Vladimir was starting to grasp the scale of what his new friend was involved in. And just how smart she really was. “And there are our neighbors…”
She pointed at another platform they were approaching, one that also lacked a drilling rig. This one was larger and actually consisted of two connected platforms.
“And who lives here?”
“A big crowd!” The young woman waved her hand. “This is basically a university on the water. Though most of the learning happens remotely—professors didn’t want to live here… They give lectures from their own universities. Of course, there are no physical labs or anything like that… Plus, a lot of the people here aren’t even studying. They’re just spending time here to avoid the risk of infection. If they—or their parents—paid for it… Mostly, it’s set up like a Turkish all-inclusive resort.”
“Are we… gonna pay them a visit?” Vladimir asked, noticing Zoryana wave to someone on a balcony of one of the buildings—naturally, with a sea view. The boat was circling the platform.
“No. First, it’s… not the done thing. The whole point is that no outsiders are allowed there… Second, they don’t even know who we are. Only the captain might recognize me… I just wanted you to see it… Over there,” she pointed to one section of the platform, “were the living quarters when they were extracting oil. They’re still there. And that part was… the technical area. Now it’s used for classrooms, various technical and maintenance services… And some living spaces too.”
“Like… my guest quarters?”
“No, a bit smaller… So, shall we head back?”
“Yeah, back home,” he smiled, setting a course to return.
The platform that had become Zoryana’s home was smaller than the one Vladimir dubbed the “university.” But even here, there was more than enough space. She explained that it was originally planned for parties and other fun events—but the virus had derailed everything… That’s why several guest quarters were set up, located on the top floor of what used to be the crew’s living area, right below the helipad. One floor down was the hostess’s “residence”—Vladimir didn’t even know exactly how many rooms were there. And below that was the office. Truthfully, one person didn’t need much space to work; the main thing was communication tools. And he’d been convinced from the start that they worked well here.
In the office, everything was tied to the sea—except, of course, for the desk with a computer and some other electronic equipment. There was also a small filing cabinet, though Zoryana explained that most of the company’s paperwork had been shifted to digital format.
“And regular mail doesn’t get here?”
“It does, but it’s slow and expensive. They bring it by boat. There’s a dock with a cargo elevator for that… How do you think groceries get here? Bread, for instance… It’s baked on that platform we passed by yesterday and delivered here. Same with everything else… But… you can’t order a pizza from a shore-side restaurant and have it here in half an hour.”
“I’ve figured that much out. And I won’t even ask about security…”
“Aren’t you curious…?”
“I am, but I’ve mostly pieced it together. When we were near the ‘university,’ I saw a couple of fast black boats. Clearly a security team. And also… I noticed right away that this ring of yours isn’t just a piece of jewelry. It’s a way to call for help if needed. A panic button. It’s too bulky and… not exactly valuable, though it’s beautifully made… And you never take it off.”
“You… figured that out right away?” Her eyes widened. “And… you didn’t take it off me when you easily could have… I could’ve called them and claimed that you…”
“And why would I?” Vladimir could only smile. “If you trusted me, I decided to trust you. Even if you kept a safety net.”
He didn’t mention that he had a safety net of his own. The smartphone in his pocket was recording their conversation—just in case he needed to prove anything… But it wasn’t necessary, and catching Zoryana’s gaze, Vladimir knew he’d not only done the right thing but said the right thing too. The recording would stay. As a keepsake.
Two walls of the large office were made of ultra-strong glass—offering that same sea view. The height above the water was considerable, and here too, there was that sense of vast space, almost like flying in the helicopter. Only the company here was much better than that silent pilot… The other two walls… No, they weren’t covered in wallpaper or paint… Most of their surface was taken up by two enormous aquariums, filled with beautiful plants and vibrant fish. Zoryana sat with her back to one of them at her desk—to look good during video conferences, she explained.
“And who takes care of them?” Vladimir asked.
“Me, of course. I love it… Though a lot of it is automated, even the feeders work on their own… This one has saltwater, and that one freshwater. The fish are different accordingly…”
“I don’t know much about them.” Vladimir shrugged. “I’m more into other animals. Like a cat or, at least, a parrot…”
“I can’t have a parrot.” She laughed. “If it listened to some of our conversations and meetings, it’d pick up all the wrong things! Anyway, let’s get to business…”
He got the hint and took the elevator up to the “guest” quarters, where his laptop, already connected to the network, and a batch of translation work awaited him.
Vladimir returned to Zoryana’s office after dark. He wanted to mention that his own work was going well. He hadn’t even expected how much better it was to do it here compared to his own apartment. It seemed like the same process—looking at a text (or listening), translating, and typing on the computer. But the feeling was completely different. Was it the silence, broken only by the sound of the sea if you opened a window…? His Kyiv apartment was in a quiet area, though. No, it was probably the absence of neighbors. Even if they didn’t blast loud music or use a drill, somehow… maybe some “vibes” seeped through the walls and disrupted his focus on work—which Vladimir considered more like a creative process. He’d have to think more about this, he mused, but Zoryana had definitely found the right solution. Even if the virus had played a role. Even if few people had such opportunities. This combination of space and peace—it was unmatched. And she invited me here, Vladimir thought as he opened the door to her office.
He paused in the doorway for a second to make sure Zoryana wasn’t on a call with anyone. But she was just staring at her computer screen, reading some document. She was so focused that she didn’t even notice him come in, so he had to call out, “Enough being a workaholic!”
“Ahh!” She turned her head. “Just a sec…”
“Tell me… do you ever turn off the lights to look at the night sea?” Vladimir nodded toward one of the glass walls. “At least before leaving here in the evening… It’s so beautiful! Or are you just used to it?”
“Of course, I’m used to it. But I do look… Though it’s better to do it… outside. When you can see the sky too. With stars you can’t see in the city. A little later… we’ll go up…”
“Sounds good.” But he still took the hand of the young woman, who had risen from her chair after shutting down the computer, turned off the overhead light in the office, and led her to the large glass wall. “And even better, I like what you like.”
“I figured it would be like that.” Though the room was dark, there was a dreamy smile in Zoryana’s voice. “When we first started messaging, and then talked… Though at first, I thought about writing to you for business.”
“For what?” He was genuinely surprised. “You… need a translator? Though—you didn’t even know what I do.”
“Actually—no. You’ve already figured out I know languages just as well as you, if not better… No, I saw your video blog. Now I get that… you talk about the movies or books you’ve translated, the ones that are out or about to be released…”
“Yeah, it’s a double win,” Vladimir explained. “First, I’ve got a decent number of viewers… And then they buy the books, and some download the movies from paid services. That boosts my fees. Plus, the YouTube channel itself is monetized, so a little extra cash comes in…“ Truthfully, he made pretty good money this way—but for him, not for Zoryana, judging by where she lived and what she did. “And most importantly, people… are so clueless they don’t connect the dots between the video blogger Vladimir Deryshkur, who talks about new literature and movies in Russian and Ukrainian, and the several pseudonyms in the credits or publishing info. Honestly, no one pays attention to the translator’s name… But what business did you want to write to me about?”
“I’ll tell you in a bit, but let’s eat first, okay? Then we’ll go… look at the sky and the sea.”