A week later, Katharina is standing next to Rosa in a field, slicing off the heads of cauliflowers. It’s nice that they’re all together again for harvest duty, just as in their first year, in foundation. Katharina, Rosa, Uta as well, who wants to be an industrial designer, and Robert, the sculptor. Somehow it’s ridiculous, says Robert, us chopping cauliflowers, while in Berlin people are being arrested. And clack, another head goes on the conveyor belt. After the incidents of October 7 and 8, the political economy lecturer brought up the protests and spoke of “counterrevolution,” and Katharina and eight or nine others got up and walked out in the middle of the lecture. Their names are bound to be on some list now. Half an hour later, she had a lump in her throat — so moved was she by her own indignation. Clack, another one gone. Are heroic feelings just a form of vanity? And does it take death or some severe punishment to eliminate it? Clack, another one. Was Zoya Kosmodemyanskaya vain? Or Julius Fučík? We lived for joy, we went into battle for the sake of joy, and we will die for it. Please do not associate our names with sadness. No, the only vain one is she. Head after cauliflower head lands on the conveyor belt that has been rigged up on the field, towards a truck. Anyone who is capable of manipulating their feelings that way is emotionally not to be trusted, Hans said to her lately, on the cassette.