Belly of the Beast (20 page)

“This is Maria’s house,” said Pytor.

“Everyone seems to know Maria,” Borya said, than pointed toward a field. “There’s a horse barn just down that track. Park your Zhuguli behind it, but avoid the manure pile. I’ll take Miss Michaels inside, then I’ve got to get rid of Malenkov’s car.”

Niki followed in Borya’s footsteps along Maria’s walkway.

Maria cracked her door and let light wash over the two night visitors. She looked up and down Niki, standing duck-like with a glove on one foot. “More tea?” she asked.

“She is a bit daft,” said Borya, “but I understand she is very good in bed.”

Maria stared at Niki’s leg. “Stop being crude and help the poor child inside.”

Borya helped Niki to the sofa. Before she lay down, she pulled her notebook from her pants pocket and slid it into the bottom of her leather satchel, then put the canister note, ski medal, and photo envelope on top.

Pytor arrived as Maria was cutting off Niki’s bloody boot.

Pytor looked at Maria, then Borya. “It seems we all know each other.”

“It is a small world among dissidents,” said Maria. “Borya and I have a shared history. I guess you two are included now.”

“Comrade Malenkov is after us,” Borya said to Maria.

“He’s back? My God, it’s been thirty years.”

“Thirty-three,” said Borya.

Maria looked at Niki. “We won’t let him get you, sweetheart. Let’s see that leg.”

Pytor cradled Niki’s head as Maria cut away her boot and pant leg, then she looked to Borya. “Can Malenkov trace you here?”

“Eventually. I have to get rid of his car.”

“Stoke the stove and put the kettle on first.”

“I’ll do it,” said Pytor.

Borya nodded and left.

“Be careful,” Maria whispered after him.

“How bad is Niki’s leg?” Pytor asked Maria.

“It bled a lot, but I don’t think she cut any major arteries. Is the water hot yet?”

“You want tea?”

“Don’t be foolish. We need hot water to clean this girl up. She got into something. The redness in her fingers and feet is not from the cold.”

“She was in the old tunnel at plant B,” said Pytor. “The floor was flooded.”

Niki nodded toward her coat. “We have a sample.”

Maria’s bald head turned ashen. “Pytor, heat more water in the big pot, and get the stove as hot as you can. We’ve got to warm this place up.” Maria pushed the boot and pant remnants away. Now her own hands were red. “We’ve got to get you out of these clothes.”

Maria stripped Niki, washed her as best she could, then covered all but her leg with an embroidered blanket. When she began to clean the gash in Niki’s leg, Niki passed out.

A few minutes later, Niki woke screaming.

Maria held a vodka bottle above Niki’s leg. “We had to disinfect it.”

“I thought I was on fire.”

Maria put on a pair of thick glasses, poured vodka on her hands, then gave the bottle to Pytor. “Give her a drink, then hold her arms. This is going to hurt.”

“I don’t want a drink. I want the medal,” said Niki.

Pytor looked at her.

“Katrina’s ski medal. It’s in my satchel.”

Pytor washed it and handed it to Niki.

“We’ll have to get rid of everything she wore,” said Maria, “and that canister. We don’t need to test it to know how bad it is.”

Niki put the medallion in her mouth, bit down, but then removed it and held it in her hand. “I saw that in a movie, but it’s not going to help.”

Maria dabbed at the wound with a vodka-soaked rag. Niki squeezed the medallion.

“Our lives are threads,” said Maria as she looked up at the bare bulb hanging from the ceiling and threaded a sewing needle. “We are all intricately interwoven into a grand tapestry.” She glanced at Pytor. “I knew your father.”

“I thought you might. I haven’t seen him for years.”

“Sad.”

The electric light flickered, then went out. Maria got up, lit two kerosene lamps, and returned.

“He was good to me,” said Niki. “He bought my plane ticket and all my clothes.”

Maria pushed the needle into Niki’s skin.

Niki and Pytor both winced.

Maria took another stitch. “Yuri Kolchak and Victor Malenkov were both here at the same time.”

“I’ll take that drink now,” said Niki.

Pytor put the bottle to her lips.

Maria glanced at Pytor. “You may want a nip too. It was no coincidence. Comrade Malenkov and your father had the same mother. They were half-brothers.” She let that sink in as she sank the needle back into Niki’s skin.

Niki’s eyes widened in shock and pain. “Brothers? Yuri and Malenkov?”

Maria nodded. “Yuri had two strikes against him when he was born. Pytor, your grandmother was a Kolchak and unwed. Yuri was given that awful name
and
he was a bastard, both considered disgraceful in Verkhniy where we all lived. He did not handle it well.”

“He could have handled his whole life better,” said Pytor.

“It’s easy to judge, but one cannot tell the warmth of a hearth by the smoke at the chimney. We lived in difficult times. A year after Yuri was born, your grandmother married Egor Malenkov and Victor was soon born.”

“Victor Malenkov,” said Pytor. “He knew who I was. My own uncle would have killed me.
Skotina
.”

“Once I saw Victor try to pull a turtle out of its shell,” said Maria. “I suppose he was always a bad egg, but his father made things worse. Egor had been a gulag commander and was used to complete control. He did sadistic things to both boys, especially Yuri as he was the bastard.”

Niki moaned.

“I had no idea,” said Pytor.

Maria adjusted her glasses. “In other ways, it was worse for Victor. Yuri was better looking, smarter, and more athletic. The girls worshiped him. Victor was always jealous. He started spending more time in the woods. Victor was the better hunter. He bragged that once he started tracking an animal, he always would get it.”

 “I didn’t want to hear that,” said Pytor. “I guess Borya knew him too. He said my father took something from him.”

“Borya knows only what I’ve told him.” Maria dabbed Niki’s leg to clear away some blood. “Victor didn’t stop at hunting animals. One day Yuri saw him dragging a girl into the woods. He went after Victor and almost beat him to death. Victor left the village after that and we didn’t see him again until he showed up at Mayak as Comrade Malenkov, special agent of the KGB. He even wore a
Torch of Truth
medal on his uniform for exemplary promotion of socialist ideals.”

“He probably stole it,” said Pytor.

Maria took a stitch. “Perhaps. The system tended to bring out the worst in people, especially young men in positions of absolute authority. I’m sorry to say that your father was not above it. He married the girl he had saved from his brother, but was prone to indiscretions.”

“Figures.”

“Don’t be too harsh in your judgment. It happens to young men in power, and Yuri was already a senior agent when he was assigned to Mayak. For safety, he left your pregnant mother in Verkhniy. He knew more about the dangers of radiation than most of us. He may even have thought that he wouldn’t live long. Most of the prison laborers didn’t.” Maria took another stitch.

“Are you almost done?” Niki whispered.

“You’re being brave, sweetheart.” Maria adjusted her glasses and took several more stitches.

Niki took another drink.

“Does my talking bother you?” asked Maria.

Niki shook her head and closed her eyes.

“Mayak became their battlefield,” said Maria. “Brother against brother, senior officer against decorated agent. Each tried to outdo the other as enforcer of the rules, a way to get ahead I suppose.”

“Father always had to be better.”

“And the rules were strict. The Americans already had the Bomb, and they weren’t afraid to use it. The survival of the Motherland was at stake. Some rules were do or die. Several workers died at Malenkov’s hand, and at least one at your father’s.”

“Doing his duty, I’m sure,” Pytor said sarcastically.

“Yuri changed after that,” said Maria. “I think it alarmed him to realize who he had become. I think he always regretted those first years at Mayak.

“I can’t believe they were brothers,” said Niki groggily. “Now they’re exact opposites.”

Maria concentrated on another stitch, then thought for a moment, lamp light flickering in her eyes. “Yuri and Victor were both molded from the same clay, but as they grew, one pushed against the other so hard, the other deformed to a negative image of the first. Yuri ended up pretty decent—for a KGB officer. Victor ended up, well, deformed.”

“My father left me to grow up on my own.”

Maria sighed. “We are all the result of what we chose to do, what we must do, and what is done to us. In the end, Victor never stopped trying to get even, and Yuri never stopped repenting for what he had done at Mayak.”

“But Yuri shot his brother,” Niki said unsteadily.

“As I said, there are things we must do.”

“Borya said my father was called the vampire,” said Pytor. “I suspect the death at his hand was something horrendous.”

“Yes,” said Maria, “but it was greatly exaggerated. There are things done to us. In this case, it was a blessing. As I said, it was the catalyst that refocused Yuri Kolchak’s vision.”

Maria tied a knot and wiped her bloody fingers. “Almost done.”

Pytor stroked Niki’s forehead. “What exactly did Father do?”

“He followed the rules and got promoted. The details are lost in the exaggeration.”

“Lost or covered up,” said Pytor. “More than bodies were buried around here. Did you know my mother?”

“Natalya. We grew up together. She was lovely.”

“Did Malenkov want to kill me because my father took her from him?”

“Who knows what another thinks, or does for that matter. After you were born, Natalya was dragged to the woods a second time. Her body was found a few days later.”

Blood rose in Pytor’s face. “Are you saying Malenkov killed my mother?”

“He had provocation, and it was certainly his style, but a fellow officer claimed he was in Kyshtym the night it happened.” Maria gently wiped blood from Niki’s leg. “How are you doing, sweet pea?”

“I’ll survive.”

“You’re tough. Do you want to know the whole story about Victor Malenkov and Yuri Kolchak?”

“I thought we just had.”

Maria ripped strips of cloth from a pillowcase. “This part is about you, Niki. This is about your mother.”

Niki nodded. “I want to know.”

Maria wrapped a layer of cloth around Niki’s leg. “As I said, there were indiscretions, to put it nicely. Victor had his way with many, but he singled out Svetlana, your mother, and often had his way with her.”

“I know. He could be my father.”

“Yuri went to the rescue again and threatened to kill Victor if bothered Lana again. It ruined Yuri’s rapport with other KGB officers, but Lana was thankful. Soon after, she and Yuri had an affair. Pytor’s mother was murdered a short time later. Because of the affair, Yuri was the prime suspect. Victor made sure of that.”

Niki tried to sit up. “I don’t believe it. Any of it.”

Maria eased her back. “Bad times don’t always bring out the best of us.”

“Yuri wouldn’t kill his wife,” said Niki.

“We know that. Being KGB, he was simply whisked away to another secret city, but distance didn’t quell the hatred between the brothers.”

“He may not have killed my mother,” said Pytor, “but my father slept with Niki’s mother while still married to my mother.”

Niki paled more than before. “That’s why Yuri got tested. He thought he could be my father. Either one of them could be my father? Did my mother sleep with everyone?”

“I suspect she was not often a willing participant. None of us were. KGB officers controlled everything about us except our feelings. I heard that your mother loved a German prisoner.” Maria wrapped more cloth.

“Joseph Hauser,” said Niki, then she slowly turned her eyes toward Pytor. “My God, you could be my brother or my cousin.”

“That’s why Russian novels are so long,” said Maria.

Pytor slowly shook his head, eyes wide.

“There’s just a little more,” said Maria.

“To the dressing or the story?” asked Niki.