The tiny lab brought to mind their home valley, the way it would look after a good snow storm. White sludge clung to the walls, the equipment, the floor, their shoes, covered their claret-colored lab coats with abstract patterns. Kostya's jet-black hair got silver admixed to it, ash-blonde thatch on Thete's head was shedding lumps of wet chalk dust. He coughed, spat out a little chalk and grinned.
"Something went a bit wrong, I think." he said merrily.
Kostya blinked, then rolled his eyes.
"I'd say we should've turned the pressure down." Thete reached for the regulator (what for? Kostya thought), but left it alone hearing the yell.
"What happened here?" Thete spun around to greet instructor Caerulia with his most rougish grin.
Unfortunately, despite several years practice, Thete's teeth still failed to disarm any of the instructors.
"What is the meaning of this?"
"We've h-had a bit of an accident with the filter press" Thete muttered bravely, straightening up as if he swallowed a stick. The lady turned to Kostya with a piercing gaze, and he nodded, shaking off several white lumps.
"Have the students" her voice could liquefy nitrogen, easily "followed the instruction for the task to the letter?"
Thete automatically looked around for their crystal reader (strictly speaking, Kostya's reader, and a rather expensive one at that). He cleared his throat.
"Ermmm... weell... not exactly..." he admitted with a schoolboy-ish backwards kick which missed his friend by a hair's breadth.
The instructor raised her eyebrows, but Thete's gaze remained firmly somewhere around her nose.
Kostya moved from behind his back. "Madame" he coughed some dust out, then repeated, clearer. "Madame, I am of opinion that our misadventure is due to a fault in the pressure regulating system."
If the instructor's eyebrows could go any higher, they'd fly away like a flutterwing. Still, she gamely went over to check the machine. Kostya licked his lips and, behind the lady's back, scowled at the sour taste of chalk. If they get out of this one and Thete doesn't buy him a magenta juice, he's regretting this for the rest of the year.
"It is set wrong." the lady said, bringing him out of his reverie. Thete wrung out his hands, staring at a corner of the room. Yes. Definitely a large magenta juice.
The instructor shook her head.
"Students should take care to properly maintain the laboratory equipment." she muttered, with a hint of disbelief, but Kostya was already pulling his friend away from the danger.
"Stop."
"Madame?"
The instructor tapped her shoe on the floor, which really sounded like a squelch. "Even if you are not responsible for the... accident, it remains students' duty to keep the common areas in a state permitting their use for didactic activities. You have more than sufficient time before the noon meal to clean up thoroughly."
"Madame" Kostya started, but Thete gave her an obedient nod. Caerulia looked them over imperiously, then marched out.
Thete reached for a bucket.
"You're giving up?" Kostya asked, arms folded.
"No need to lie for me." Was it him, or did Thete's ears turn red?
"You know we could go to the dining hall for some cold juice-"
"Somebody has to clean up." Bright red, for sure. "And I made the mess, so-"
"Oh, here's my reader." Kostya wiped the device with his labcoat and experimentally slid his finger over the screen. It remained dark. With white spots.
"I don't get it." he said, turning round. "Thete?"
His friend walked back into the lab, carrying an armful of rags. "Been to the storage." he explained needlessly. Kostya rolled his eyes. "Look, you can go. You didn't-"
"Why are you doing this? Thete, it doesn't matter who cleans up all this slurry."
"It does." Thete dropped a rag into the bucket with a splash. Kostya shook the water off his shoe.
"Every time you have to confess." he sighed, putting his damaged reader into his coat pocket. "Trying to get kicked out?"
Thete stared at him for a while. "You're lecturing me? You?"
"I'm not saying, don't have fun, I'm saying, be reasonable."
Kostya didn't hear the muttered answer, but it was not particularily pleasant in tone. Still, he added "Whan we've finished school-"
"It's gonna be worse." Thete snapped. "Look, either lend a hand or leave. Alright?" He dropped onto his knees and, using a scoop and a rag, proceeded to shovel the slurry into the bucket.
Kostya stood for a while, watching Thete push chalk sludge over the floor, which made both steadily whiter and whiter. Then he cleared his throat and took a rag for himself. Thete spared him a passing look.
Kostya's hands were itchy from all this chalk. I'll get this juice off you, sport, he thought. And the new reader. Thete was ridiculously easy to get things from, not that Kostya couldn't afford them, but he wasn't keen on explaining to his parents why he suddenly needed a new reader.
In silence, they were wiping the floor.