But one day, a yellow envelope arrived. Inside was a single sheet of paper, typewritten, dated 1962.
And on the first page of every copy, under his name, he wrote the old motto: bukhovtsev physics
He recalculated. He was wrong. He was grateful. At eighteen, Dmitri took a train to Moscow. He had no diploma, no formal education. He carried only the Bukhovtsev book, now held together by electrical tape, its margins filled with his own furious notes. But one day, a yellow envelope arrived