A train window at dusk showing the flat Kazakh steppe receding, a glass of tea in a podstakannik on the fold-down table, a notebook open, the inside of a train compartment warm against the darkening landscape outside

I am writing this from the train.

The train departed Almaty-1 station at 21:14. It is now 23:47. We are somewhere in the steppe. I cannot tell you more specifically than that because it is dark and the steppe looks the same in the dark regardless of which part of it you are in.

The Station

The station was built in the Soviet era and has been renovated twice since, in ways that made it more modern without making it more comfortable. The announcement board is digital now, which I note because the last time I was at this station in 2003, it was a physical board with rotating letters. I had forgotten about rotating letter boards. I found myself standing in front of the digital board thinking about rotating letter boards for longer than necessary.

Almaty-1, Platform 9. Departure 21:14.

I arrived at 20:31, which gave me 43 minutes on the platform. This is 23 more minutes than necessary. I am aware of this. I left early anyway.

The train is a standard long-distance composition. My compartment is number six. It has four berths; at departure, two were occupied, including mine. My neighbor is a woman of approximately 60 who immediately arranged her luggage with military precision and has not moved since. She has a thermos. I respect both of these decisions.

The Departure

The train began moving at 21:14:38, which I noted because I was looking at my watch.

Almaty from the window at 21:15 looks like any city looks from a departing train: lights, then fewer lights, then the dark outlines of buildings against a darker sky, then nothing but the platform lights receding. I watched until there was nothing specific left to watch.

This is the third time I have left Almaty by train. The first time was 2003, Novosibirsk, to decline a job offer. The second time was February, Karaganda, to open three boxes.

Each time the lights look the same.

Hour One

At approximately 22:30 I went to the dining car.

It was open. I ordered tea. This was correct. I also ordered something described on the menu as “traveler’s cutlet,” which was not described further. It arrived. It was acceptable.

I ate Mrs. Kuznetsova’s eggs at 22:05, before the dining car, because I had not eaten since lunch and the dining car did not open until 22:00. This means she was correct and I was incorrect about the necessity of the eggs. I have noted this without commentary.

First Measurement

At 22:47, approximately 90 minutes into the journey, I took Ruslan’s first waypoint measurement. The Nokia Method does not perform identically on a moving train as it does on a fixed desk, but the setup functioned.

Result: 50.003 Hz. No anomaly. This is expected — it is not Tuesday at 14:37. Ruslan’s table specifies that waypoint measurements are baseline readings, not anomaly searches. I confirmed 50.003 Hz ± 0.004 as baseline for this location and logged it.

I sent Ruslan the result at 22:51.

He replied at 22:53: “Good. Next waypoint approximately 340 km. Sleep first.”

I had not told him what time I planned to sleep. I do not know how he knew I was going to stay awake doing waypoint measurements instead of sleeping. This is a known property of Ruslan.

I will do the next measurement at approximately 06:00 tomorrow, depending on when I wake up.

Messages

Dima sent a message at 21:19 — five minutes after departure: “good luck. let us know what the archive says”

Mikhail sent a message at 21:45: “I will be at the station. Saturday morning, arrival platform.”

This is the same information he has communicated before. He has communicated it again anyway. I find this, in Mikhail’s terms, significant.

Artyom sent a message at 23:11: “When do you get back? I have a question about the gradient.”

I replied that I would be back after the 15th and that the gradient question was also my question. He replied: “ok. safe travels.”

Safe travels from a person I have never met, who measured the Tuesday anomaly for the first time six days ago, who said “interesting” when the data came in. The network continues to expand in ways I did not plan.

What the Train Sounds Like

A train at night, moving through the steppe, sounds like a calculation that takes longer than expected. The rhythm of the wheels on the track is consistent at approximately 2.3 Hz — I estimated this without instruments, which means the estimate is approximate. The heating makes a sound at irregular intervals. My neighbor’s thermos occasionally produces a small click.

These are the measurements available to me at 23:47 in compartment six, somewhere in the Kazakh steppe, en route to Novosibirsk.

Current status:

  • Location: compartment 6, somewhere in Kazakhstan, moving north.
  • ETA Novosibirsk: Saturday morning, approximately.
  • Waypoint 1: complete. 50.003 Hz ± 0.004. Logged.
  • Mrs. Kuznetsova’s eggs: consumed (hour one). She was right.
  • Dining car: confirmed open. Traveler’s cutlet: acceptable.
  • Mikhail: confirmed at arrival platform. Saturday.
  • Dima: good luck received.
  • Artyom: has a question about the gradient. So do I.
  • Foil ball and dried leaf: windowsill, apartment 4A, Almaty.
  • Misha: apartment 4A, Almaty. Mrs. Kuznetsova has the spare key.
  • Emotional state: the train is moving. This is a statement of fact that contains more than it appears to.

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