The Pass (Wattys 2019)

Chapter Four

The Ural Polytechnic Institute was one of the premier university in the Soviet Union, filled with the best and brightest the country had to offer. Most were there to study math and science, with a large number being engineers of some sort. Few were there for the humanities. And even fewer cared less about their studies at the elite university as Nika did.

It hadn't always been the case, of course: she'd cared enough at one time to get accepted there. But then, she joined the outdoor club, and it all went downhill from there. Or, rather, uphill.

"Welcome back, Nika," Cyril, the kid who kept track of the archives when he wasn't studying, said as Nika approached his desk in the club house. "We were all taking bets on when you'd show up, again. Thanks for helping me earn fifty roubles."

"Happy to help," Nika said. "I need to look at old grade routes."

"Already looking for the next great adventure, are we?" Cyril asked. "What were you thinking? A pleasant walk in the woods?"

"A challenge, but not too much of one," Nika said. "I'll be off in a month or so."

"Grade III, then?" Cyril asked.

Nika nodded. "All the routes people used to get their Grade III certification. Not including mine, of course."

"Of course not: couldn't have anybody repeating a route they've already done, can we?" Cyril joked. "Have a seat: I'll bring you everything we've got in a second."

Nika nodded and walked over to one of the tables.

She took out her notebook and studied it while she waited for Cyril to bring the maps. She had a list of possible mountain ranges on that page, with expedition costs listed next to them. As of that moment, the Urals and the Caucasus were her best bet. At that point, she was most interested in any routes to the top of Mount Elbrus, the highest point in Europe. She wasn't certain that anyone had tried that route to get their advanced mountaineering certification, but if she could avoid drawing out a map for herself, she would do it.

"Here we are: twenty-five routes," Cyril announced as he came to the table. "There's more than this, of course: I don't plan on dragging all of it out if you end up finding a decent route in these."

"Well, how am I supposed to know that these are decent routes, then?" Nika asked, raising an eyebrow. "I have nothing to compare them to."

Cyril rolled his eyes and walked away, muttering curses under his breath.

Nika smiled to herself and began to pour over the maps.

Just like she'd thought, most of the routes were in the Urals. She recognized most of the peaks: Narodnaya, Payer, Karpinsk. A few were of seemingly random peaks, simply marked by their elevations. Most were right around 1,000 meters. None of them quite spoke to her, however: she'd climbed many of those peaks, already. She wanted to do something different.

After about twenty minutes of looking over the maps, eliminating some routes from the running and putting others in the maybe pile, Peter walked into the room and began to look around. That was, until he saw her.

He walked over to the table, a smirk on his face. "How did I know I'd find you here?"

"Because I have a one-track mind?" Nika suggested. "That's what you're always saying, isn't it?"

"That it is," Peter said as he sat down. "You have any ideas?"

"So far, it looks like I'm either heading to the Urals or the Caucasus," Nika said. "I'll probably just end up in the Urals: it's a cheaper trip, by far."