←→The state corporation that owns the plants also runs a free digital library about its own history, and after three weeks of being kept out of every town in the Urals I find that funnier than I can properly explain to anybody. No login. No fee. Three sections, one of them the Soviet atomic project, and inside it the memoirs and the jubilee volumes and the anniversary brochures that institutions produce when somebody turns a hundred.
Both of the books I actually need are in there: a collected volume from 2004 whose title translates as the first lady of Soviet atomic science, and a brochure from 2024 for an anniversary. Neither was written to be honest in the way I would like honest. Both are nevertheless full of the only details anybody ever bothered to write down at all, which is why I am reading them at eleven at night with a pencil. Institutional flattery preserves the things institutional history throws away.
The site says it is still in test operation and the newest entries are from late 2025, which is a sentence I have learned to note in case the whole thing goes quiet one Tuesday. So I download. I keep local copies of things that are supposed to be permanent. The town is closed and the library is open. I copied everything twice, onto the drive that clicks.
One short email when a new book is out or a price changes. Nothing else, and no forwarding to anyone.