Belly of the Beast (10 page)

After another long silence, Galina sat up and smiled. “See, I told you Joseph is the father.”

“Where is he now?” asked Niki.

“You’ll have to come back tomorrow.”

Niki studied the old woman. “You don’t know, do you?”

“Do too,” said Galena. “I’m just not telling.”

“Then I’ll just have to talk to Lana,” said Niki.

Lana returned to her blank stare.

“Okay. I’ll tell,” said Galina. “Joseph lived near Mayak—that place I’m not supposed to say. Guards took him to the foreigners’ barracks in Techa after the interrogations, but sometimes I saw him in that Alpha Tunnel. The guards moved the blocks that were supposed to seal it and sent workers and prisoners in to mop up the floor, but they never went in themselves. It was plutonium solution on the floor. It was always leaking from the pipes, and it was the most valuable stuff in all of Russia. It was worth a man’s blood. Just ask Yuri.”

 “I don’t need to know,” said Niki. She touched Yuri’s arm. “I just need to know about my family.”

Yuri closed his eyes in resignation. “Go on Galina, but don’t talk about political officers, don’t talk about plutonium, and don’t talk about Mayak.”

Galina smiled. “You said Mayak.”

“Where is Joseph now?” asked Niki.

“Looking for me. We leave notes in the tunnel. We were both in the tunnel one time and I was supposed to crawl under a row of pipes to wipe up a spill, but he did it and wouldn’t let me help. He said plutonium was killing us. He wrung out his wet clothes in the collection bucket. I took off my clothes too and pulled him to me. It was not the first time. I was already pregnant. Joseph said the plutonium would kill the baby too.”

Niki shook her head. “I had no idea. It must have been horrible.”

Galina eased her legs over the side of the bed and swung them happily. “Not so bad for me. We had special privileges. We were the chocolate eaters. We had horses and ski trails. In winter, I skied every minute I was not working. I am going to the Olympics someday.”

The room fell quiet again.

It was insane; Niki listened to her crazy mother through another crazy person’s warped perception while Yuri tried to stifle both of them. Niki began to wonder then,
Had radiation make them crazy?
Then she remembered Dr. Baxter’s question about nuclear power plants and chromosome damage.
How could my parents not be damaged? And me. My God. I
am
the cause of Alex’s leukemia.

“We were in the tunnel when the big explosion happened,” said Galina. “They called it the Kyshtym Explosion. It was October.”

 “September,” Yuri said soberly, “1957. If we are going to reveal state secrets, we may as well get the dates right.”

“We thought the whole plant blew up,” said Galina. “Joseph said things would be different. He said we might not see each other again. He showed me a cut off pipe along the west wall. He said if we ever got back in the tunnel, we should put notes in bottles and hide them in the cut-off pipe. That way we could find each other. Joseph is coming back for me.”

“That was thirty years ago,” Yuri said calmly. “The radiation would surely have killed him by now. May we go now?”

“My mother is still alive, maybe Joseph is too. If he was at Techa, maybe we could—”

“Victor Malenkov took him away,” said Galina. “When he comes back for me, he’ll bring tea in a silver samovar.” Galina closed her eyes.

There was an uneasy quiet.

Niki finally nodded. “This is all crazy. We can go now. I’ll just say goodbye to my mother.”

Yuri was already out the door when Lana spoke once more. “It was a stainless steel sample canister, not a bottle. I left a note for Joseph when I left. He will leave one for me.”

Yuri waited in the doorway. Niki reached out and touched her mother’s hair. “I’m sorry about everything,” she whispered, a tear in her eye. “I wish you could see your grandson. I’ll come back when I can.” Niki walked to the hall and quietly closed the door.

“Maybe Joseph did leave a note,” Niki said to Yuri back in the car. “And there must be records of him. He may even be in the phonebook.”

“You don’t understand,” said Yuri. “Mayak is the heart of the Russian nuclear industry. It, and every village around it, is closed to the rest of the world. There are no phonebooks. It’s not even on a map. The entire complex is known only by a postal code. But that’s academic. Joseph was exposed to enough radiation to kill an army. At the very least, his bone marrow must be damaged.”

“But he’s my last hope.”

“I’m sorry, Niki, but even If your father is alive, even if by some miracle he was a match, it doesn’t matter. We can’t go there, and if we could, we’d never find him.”

“You were at Mayak.” Niki said as Yuri drove back toward his apartment.

“I thought you agreed to clemency about anything Galina said about me. She is crazy. And don’t throw names around casually. People have died for knowing Mayak exists.” Yuri looked at Niki. “I’ve given you false hope. I shouldn’t have taken you to your mother. I shouldn’t have showed you that place. I’ve grown careless with age.”

“Compassion is not a fault, but you’ll kill us both if you don’t stay in your lane.”

Yuri jerked his car back to the outside lane. “There’s a fine line between life and death,” he said. “You have to forget most everything you saw and heard. It’s not just about you. You hold the fate of Lana, Galina, and Thomas.”

“I thought Thomas just worked here. I thought he was American.”

“So did the Americans. We were very good at what we did.”

“I suppose you all knew what you were doing, and I bet you all knew your past could catch up with you, but my son is innocent of whatever you and Lana and Galina did. I won’t protect you at his expense.”

“If you ask questions about Mayak in the wrong places, he’ll be an orphan.”

“I’d do it to save him. Yuri, I only have one lead left. You know people. Please help me find my father. I have a truck. I’ll sell it to pay you.”

Yuri sighed. “I wish I could help, but my political connections are as cold as a Siberian night, and I have many enemies. I can never return to the Soviet Union.”

“The Soviet Union is dissolving. Maybe—”

“Some things never change.”

Niki drew in a deep breath. “Then I will go to Russia.”

“Of course you are not serious.”

“I’m going to save my son or die trying.”

“There’s no way you could get into Russia now, much less get out.”

“I’m not going to give up.”

“I admire your determination, but . . .” Yuri exited the freeway and pulled to a stop. “Perhaps my son could ask a few questions. He lives in Sverdlovsk. Yeltsin is calling it Ekaterinburg again.”

“Never heard of either.”

“My point exactly. You may understand Russian, but understanding Russia herself is difficult even for a Russian, beyond comprehension for an American.”

Niki thought for a moment. “If what Galina suggested is true, I was born in Russia. That makes me Russian.”

“But as I said, most Russians don’t understand her, even the ones who live there. I’ll try to contact Pytor, but don’t get your hopes up.”

“Tell him to pick me up at the airport.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“If I can’t find my father, maybe there’s someone else. Dr. Baxter said I probably come from a small gene pool. I could—”

“You had trouble just flying to San Francisco,” Yuri interrupted. “Looking for your father or some lost relative would be like trying to find a stick of dynamite in a haystack with a blowtorch for light. Russia is a tinderbox. When Yeltsin banned the Communist Party last month, he lit the match. Everyone from thieves to theologians will grab for what they can. There could a civil war, riots at the least. You cannot imagine what Russia is like even in the quiet times. Besides, we don’t know for sure that Joseph Hauser is your father, and should you chance to find him, it’s not likely he would be an antigen match for your son. Even if he matched, his bone marrow would probably glow in the dark. Going to Russia would be profoundly stupid.”

Niki Michaels managed to board another airplane, but she was not going home. She settled into the plush comfort of Delta First Class, glanced at her ticket stub, and looked to her left. “I understood SFO for San Francisco but what’s YYZ?”

Yuri Kolchak smiled. “Something to know about your new country. All Canadian airport codes begin with Y and it’s anyone’s guess why YYZ is Toronto. I thought it best to show you leaving Toronto—Toronto to New York, then non-stop to Moscow.”

Yuri Kolchak may have lost influence with the KGB, but he retained some power in the west. On a Monday morning, two days before Christmas, he had obtained a Canadian passport for a woman without a birth certificate, a visa to a country in its death throes, and a trans-Atlantic airline ticket on one of the busiest travel days of the year.

“First class is a lot different than the back of the plane,” said Niki. “I may not need the Valium Dr. Baxter prescribed.”

“She is a good woman, but this is still a foolish idea.”

“That’s what she said, but my father or someone from my ethnic group is still my best hope. Maybe there’s a donor registry in Yekaterinburg or Chelyabinsk.”

Yuri glanced about to see if anyone was listening. “Where did you hear that name?”

“Galina said it.”

“Chelyabinsk-40 actually. It is a post code that includes Mayak and the surrounding villages. Either name could get you in trouble.”

“It doesn’t matter to me what it’s called,” Niki continued. “The important thing is that Dr. Baxter said that if my father is still alive, his bone marrow would probably be pretty healthy. Some people tolerate radiation pretty well. The bad thing is that reproductive organs are easily affected, so sometimes it doesn’t show up for a generation or two. Alex’s problem is all because of my genes.”

“It’s not your fault, Niki.”

“It’s my fault if I don’t do everything I can to save him.”

Yuri emptied the little vodka bottle that sat on his tray into a glass and downed half of it. “It will be my fault if you don’t return. I’ve facilitated this foolishness.”

“I begged you to help me.”

Yuri studied his half-empty glass. “When all is said and done, I don’t know if I’ll go to heaven or hell.”

“I wish you could talk about what happened back in Russia,” said Niki.

“I made mistakes there and here. It’s enough for you to know that I made your life miserable, and this is inadequate compensation. I’m glad you finally accepted the clothes.”

Niki looked down at her new outfit. “I’ve never had such nice stuff. Thank you.”

“You look nice, very professional, but you look exhausted.”

“Dr. Baxter spent all day and half the night teaching me how to harvest bone marrow. I think she could lose her license if anyone finds out.”

“Then we won’t tell anyone,” said Yuri. “Perhaps you can get some sleep when you’re on your own after New York. Now there’s a lot I need to teach you.” He reached for his briefcase.

“What were you counting at check-in?”

 Yuri smiled. “I didn’t know it was obvious. I group things by number. Wallet one, glasses two, briefcase three, and so on. I might end up with six essential items. All I need to remember is the number six. Each time I move, I count to six.”

“The guy on the plane to San Francisco used an acronym.”

“Do what works for you.” Yuri opened his briefcase and handed Niki a Black Diamond Skiwear catalog and a pair of lavender ski gloves.

“The fabric is Gortex,” said Yuri. “It’s microporous, same as the down parka you stuffed in your suitcase. You can read more about it at the back of the catalog. I’ve added some pages about stitching, seam-sealing, et cetera. The Black Diamond sales office will verify that you are a sales representative if someone checks.” Yuri also handed Niki a stack of business cards and a small box. “Use the cards if you need to, but never offer more information than is required.”

Niki put them in her new leather satchel, an Yves Saint Laurent with the YSL logo in gold. “And the box?”

“You’ll need to keep track of time.”

Inside was a Seiko watch with the Black Diamond Skiwear logo on the face.

“You were their top salesperson in September.”

“I can’t believe you got everything done in a day and a half.”

“I wasn’t able to talk directly with Pytor, but I got a message to him. He’ll pick you up. I still think this is an awful idea.”

“What about my American accent?”

“I doubt a Russian will be able to tell, but use ‘aboot’ and ‘you bet.’ Just to be sure, add ‘eh’ to the end of each question. It’s a nice day, eh? And don’t let anyone know you speak Russian, and never mention Chelyabinsk-40, Mayak, or Kyshtym.”

“Pytor speaks English?”

Yuri hesitated. “I don’t know.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“The hardest thing will be changing planes in Moscow. The international airport is north of the city, but the domestic airport is across the city to the south. You’ll need to take a taxi across town. I understand it is quite expensive now. I’ll give you money in New York.”

“Thank you for everything. I still intend to repay you when I can.”

Yuri smiled. “You help your son and I’ll be repaid. It’s a foolish thing you do, but I admire why you are doing it. Your mother did the same for you.”

Niki thought about it. After years of judging and hating her mother, Niki appreciated that she finally had an idea of who her mother really was. Old wounds began to heal.

In Toronto, Niki picked up her bags, and then rechecked them for Moscow. Yuri nodded. “This is where your trip begins. You are Canadian now.” He covered Canadian history and politics on the short flight to New York City. Niki absorbed what she could.

“I wish I could go with you,” said Yuri as he led Niki to her Moscow flight. “I wish I could protect you.”

“I’ll be fine. If nothing else, my mother made me tough.”

“That she did. When you see my son, tell him—” Yuri hesitated. “Just say that I really admire what he’s doing too. If anyone knows about a donor list, he will.” Yuri handed Niki a package. “Take this to him, please. Tell customs it’s a used radio. And I noticed you were writing when I returned from the toilet on the plane. You’d better give me your notebooks for safekeeping, and for God’s sake, don’t keep notes in Russia.”

Niki thought about her notes about San Mateo, Mayak, and Tatysh. “There was a little post office just past the ticket counter. I’ll send them to Rob.”

While Yuri bought stamps and an envelope, Niki tore out several pages with notes about Mayak; there was too much to remember. She slipped the pages into her pocket

While Yuri stood by, Niki mailed the balance of her notebook, then Yuri went to exchange currencies. Niki spotted a rack of cloisonné pins, all fifty states, made in Taiwan. She bought two spiral-bound notepads and a “Colorado” pin with blue columbine and snow-capped mountains. A shiny ’91 quarter was all she had left of her own money. She stuck it in the envelope with Alex’s picture, all that she had kept of her old stuff.

“This isn’t exactly what I wanted,” said Yuri when he returned. “I went to all three currency exchanges, but only one had Russian rubles, and not many at that. I suppose the value of a ruble is risky at best. I should have thought of that.”

“It’s not like I gave you a lot of time.”

Yuri handed Niki ten hundred-ruble notes and a stack of twenty-dollar bills. “You’ll have to change the dollars to rubles at Sheremetyevo Airport. You should get forty-seven rubles per dollar. I had to give you twenties because they won’t change anything bigger.”

Niki slipped the dollars and rubles inside her YSL satchel. Yuri shook his head. “Don’t put all your eggs in one basket.”

Niki nodded and moved half of the dollars to an inside pocket of her new leather coat, and the other half deep inside her purse. She put the rubles in a side pocket, separated from everything else by a partition.

“Trust no one,” said Yuri, “but if you must, choose carefully.”

Niki nodded again, then handed Yuri the Colorado pin. “I want you to have something to remember me.”

Yuri looked at it, then hugged Niki like a long lost child. “I have known of you since that day you and Lana were first spotted in Vermont,” he said, his voice quivering. “The first time I saw you was at Hunter Creek. You were as beautiful then as you are now. I will always remember you, Niki Michaels. I only wish I could do more. My heart goes with you.”

“Don’t worry about me; I’m a survivor. I’ll be back in six days. I’ll call you. Thank you for all you’ve done. I’m going to call Alex now.”

No one answered Rob’s phone. “Alex must have gotten worse,” said Niki. “They must have gone to the hospital.”

“They probably went for a walk,” said Yuri. “I’ll try to call them later and get word to you.”

 When the Moscow flight was called, Niki had second and third thoughts about boarding. Not only was she leaving everything she knew behind, she was leaving everyone who cared about her. “I’m doing this for Alex,” she whispered to herself. Barely able to see through her tears, Niki left Yuri on the other side of the boarding gate.

 The New York to Moscow flight was almost empty.

“I don’t understand,” Niki said to the flight attendant as she was serving dinner, “How can you make money without any passengers?”

The attendant smiled. “Delta just started flying to Moscow last month, but we’re always full on the return trip. Everyone wants to get out of Russia, no one wants to get in. You know there’s a travel restriction for Americans, don’t you?”

“Sure, you bet.”