Chapter Text
June, 1986.
The man looked at the watch on his wrist. It was already 3:36 in the morning and Boris Shcherbina knew that at that time he should be resting in bed, taking advantage of the slight sleep that radiation allowed him to have.
But no.
Instead, I was in the event hall of the Pripyat hotel. With the dim lighting of a solitary lamp, a bottle of vodka, several tapes and a cassette deck that he had found in one of the hotel rooms.
Moved by curiosity and with the volume to a minimum, he began to reproduce them. Most contained political speeches, which were immediately cut by Shcherbina when he pressed the stop button. He testing tape after tape until instead stopping it, he accidentally advanced a few minutes and Lennin's voice gave way to the first chords of a song.
It wasn't a common song, this was a melody from the west.
His knowledge in Western music was poor, the same applied to his handling of English. Even so, he could understand individual phrases from that song. After a few minutes, the man was immersed in music.
“I close my eyes, only for a moment, and the moment's gone. All my dreams pass before my eyes, a curiosity. Dust in the wind. "
Sitting in front of the window, Boris watched the night sky dotted with stars.
He was so absorbed that he did not listen to the timid steps that came in his direction.
"What is that?" Legasov asked.
Boris jumped.
"Sorry, it wasn't my intention." Distressed, the professor took a few steps back.
After the fright, Boris shakes his head.
"I found them in a room, apparently someone smuggled them." The man pointed to the chair beside him and Valery nodded, sitting there.
“Now, don't hang on, nothing lasts forever but the earth and sky. It slips away. And all your money won't another minute buy. Dust in the wind. "
“Music is interesting”.
"It is to be western."
"Although I suppose it would be better if I at least understood what they say."
"You don't miss anything. Basically the man who sings tells us that we are only dust in the wind. A drop of water in an endless sea. Isn't that lovely?”
Valery shrugged.
“You should be sleeping”.
"Like you." The politician replied.
"I was there for two hours, I had a nightmare and I couldn't go back to sleep." Legasov carved his eyes.
Boris took a sip of vodka.
"I used to have nightmares when I was a child. I had a few when we were in the great war. They stopped over the years but ...”
"They came back?"
“Yes they did it. Although when I wake up I don't know if this is better than my dream. Anyway, sometimes walking helps me sleep. I started wandering around the hotel, I found this and here we are”.
The professor let out a sigh.
"Even so Valery, with everything that has happened, you can't deny a view like this."
Shcherbina pointed to the window. Behind him, the stars shone in all their splendor. Legasov watched the man. The Ukrainian looked absorbed.
After a brief silence, Boris spoke.
“My grandmother used to say that when we died our soul became part of the stars." The politician took a sip of vodka. "I don't know if she really believed that happen. Maybe she just said it because she wanted me to stay still every time we lay on the grass to look at the night sky."
“Did they do it often?” Legasov asked.
"Yes, when I was a child, she told me stories based on constellations. She did it many times until he passed away. Since then I can only remember the name of a few. For example...” The man pointed an index finger at a particularly bright star. “That is Aldebaran, the eye of the bull, the brightest star in the constellation of Taurus.”.
Boris drank again. Sigh.
"Valera, what do you think happens to us when we die?"
If that question seemed strange to Legasov, he didn't express it.
“Well... our bodies will begin the natural process of decomposition...”
"No, I don't mean the biological details."
“Oh”.
Valery looked at the sky.
“When I was in university, I read about ancient mythology from several countries. One of them said there were three kinds of destinations for the people when they die. The cause of death determined the place to which they were sent.
“What were those places?”
"I don't remember the names, they were practically unpronounceable. But vaguely I know what they were. In the first, the warriors killed in battle and the women who died in childbirth accompanied the sun on their journey through the sky. People who perished drowned, by the fall of lightning or leprosy, went to a heavenly place, ruled by the God of rain where everything was happiness.
“Sounds lovely”.
Valery sighed.
“Finally, those who died from common diseases had to go through the nine regions of the underworld. With the help of dogs they crossed a river and then crossed obsidian mountains, snowy fields, deserts, dark waters, wild animals that devoured hearts and a mist that completely blinded them. At the end of all these proves, the gods freed them from earthly charges and they allowed them to be one with the universe.
Boris considered it, stopped seeing the cassette he was holding with his hands and turned to Valery. The man was staring at the window, he saw the stars through the glass.
"If that existed, do you think we would have to pass all those tests?" The professor asked.
"We still don't know how we are going to die, Valera." Perhaps our destiny is to accompany the sun for all eternity.
The redhead frowned.
"We are not warriors, Boris."
"But neither will we die from a common illness. A fight against an enemy that we do not see will kill us. It is not a conventional battle but the result is the same”.
"Borja ..." Valery murmured.
"Borja ?. It's the first time he calls me that. ”
The professor lit a cigarette, inhaled and exhaled the smoke and then sighed.
"I don't know what will happen after we die. I don't know if we will cross mountains of volcanic stone or accompany the sun. I don't even know if there is an after.” Boris rubbed his temples, looking for the right words.“ But, since you made it clear that we will die in five years, I understood that we had to enjoy every moment while we were still alive. I try to live with that idea. And with that thought I made peace with the price I had to pay for someone else's mistake”.
Valery nodded.
"Celebrate the small victories." Lagasov muttered to himself. "I agree with that."
The song concluded, was followed by a melody of similar rhythm.
Both listened to forbidden music until dawn began to rise. They did not speak, the silent company was enough for both of them to be calm. When the sun began to rise over the horizon, Boris stopped the music. He took the cassette deck and the tapes. He nodded to Valery and left the place.
Legasov stayed a little longer. He allowed himself to see the sunrise in full plenitude.
"Comrade Legasov, we have swept through the southern perimeter forest." Tarakanov pointed to the place on a huge map. "But the dosimeters indicated high levels of radiation 255 meters from that area." It is ground without important vegetation.
Valery blew out a puff of smoke. His head was starting to hurt, although he didn't know if it was the pressure of dealing with the emergency or the radiation itself.
“Do the same thing you did with the previous cases. Remove the surface layer of the earth and bury it on itself. Nothing can be left outdoors”.
Tarakanov nodded and left the mobile office that Legasov and Shcherbina shared.
The redhead marked the area. It was the thirty-second area in which they found high amounts of radiation without a similar index will be reported in neighboring parts.
Irregular radiation, scattered like the petals of a flower carried by the wind.
Legasov sighed. He had not slept well. His eyes were bloodshot and he felt incredibly tired. He put a cigarette to his lips and lit it.
He held the smoke in his lungs for a moment to let it out slowly. He wondered if what they were doing would help mitigate the consequences of the disaster. If the sacrifice of all the people involved would not be in vain.
He wondered if it was not too late for people living in Ukraine or Belarus, where radiation was concentrated. It was too late for him. It had been for firefighters and staff working at the plant. It was also late for Boris.
They had less than five years left. When he finished smoking his cigar, he lit another. He sat in front of his desk.
Minutes later, Shcherbina entered with a smile on his lips.
"It’s done, the lunar rovers will arrive in two days."
The politician took a couple of the many bottles of vodka he had at his disposal and offered one to Valery. The man nodded, taking it and opening it. He drank a large drink that surprised his partner.
"I'm still worried about Masha”. Legasov said after drinking another drink.
"We'll find something. Meanwhile, enjoy this victory”.
The professor looked annoyed. As if the politician was making fun of him.
"What?" Boris questioned.
“How could I enjoy something that only reminds me of what we are dealing with? Even if we succeed with this, the little satisfaction we have will be brief because an even greater obstacle will always appear”.
Valery spoke calmly, but could not hide his frustration.
Shcherbina sat down. He drank a little more vodka, meditating for a moment on what he was going to say.
"I can't say you're wrong. I don't know what a scientist's approach is, but let me share my point of view”.
The politician sighed.
"Things will eventually have an end, regardless of whether they are good or bad." No matter how much we fight against that idea. Nothing is forever. I am not saying that you should not worry, I just say that whatever the problem is we will find a solution for it. We already put out a fire, we avoid a thermonuclear explosion, we evacuate people, we do our best to avoid contamination...”
"BUT STILL IS NOT ENOUGH!" Valery yelled completely overwhelmed.
He took off his glasses and covered his face. He felt incredibly embarrassed. While he was right, Shcherbina was the last person who deserved to be the target of his anger and frustration. A few seconds later he heard Boris get up, heard him walk and when he thought he was going to the exit, the steps were heard closer. The politician put a hand on his shoulder.
Boris sighed.
"Do you remember what you told me that night?" What were we dealing with something that had never happened? Well, I think so far we have lived up to the circumstances. We are doing what we can with what we have within our reach. And I want to believe that everything we have sacrificed will not be in vain. So, please, don't belittle everything we've achieved. You are not alone in this Valera. I am with you, I mean ... we are with you.
It was clear to Legasov that Boris did not talk about politicians or the KGB who witnessed everything from the relative security that Moscow offered.
Shcherbina talked about firefighters, miners, soldiers, scientists, doctors, nurses. Men and women who tried to defeat an enemy that had no face or color but would undoubtedly exterminate them without mercy. All of them was trying to save the world.
Valery placed his hand on the one Boris had on his shoulder. They stayed that way for a short time until Valery nodded.
"I will try to celebrate the little victories." Legasov muttered.
Boris cut off the contact and sat down again.
“Enjoy the good times while they last, Valera.” Boris drank. “We only have five years left, maybe less than that”.
A couple of days later, Boris had witnessed a couple of events that, although they were completely different (one was something that came close to the miraculous and another was more ordinary), both had filled him with absolute happiness. Rarely did life reward him with moments of absolute happiness. The majority had passed so fleetingly that he had not taken the time to delight in them.
But the moment the lunar roover moved on that roof and he saw a smile form on Legasov's face, Boris did not let those moments slip from his hands. After a comment with humorous dyes, the man had taken his friend's cheeks and then hugged him.
Even in the presence of other people, the contact had felt so intimately that it ended up overwhelming him. For a brief moment he felt that only Legasov and he were in that room. For some reason he didn't know, when he hugged Valery he felt complete and happy.
A part of him suspected he would never experience again that degree of happiness. As if that moment was the maximum peak of joy and from there the days of life that remain will gradually descend towards bitterness. Shcherbina pushed the thought away from his mind and refused to take his arm off Valery's shoulders.
After all, he had promised to enjoy those perfect moments while they lasted.
October, 1986.
Of course the bitterness came.
After "Joker", that police robot failed and the liquidators began cleaning tasks on Masha, things started to go bad.
If it was not Charkov and his agents investigating them to the point of suffocation, it was the poor Tarakanov who continued to find more and more irregular points of radiation beyond the exclusion zone and if that was not the case, he was exasperated by the folly and incompetence of party men who refused to understand the magnitude of the disaster.
Boris walked back to the mobile office. After arguing heatedly with Minister Ryzhkov on increasing the dimensions of the exclusion zone and almost failing in the process, the man decided that a short walk would help him free the levels of frustration.
It was already the first half of autumn. The cold wind occasionally struck his face, shaking the khaki coat he wore. Small raindrops fell silently on his head.
A few men looked far away, although Shcherbina failed to distinguish what they were doing. Boris was already close to his destination when he sneezed. A few seconds later he coughed a little. He rebuked himself mentally for having gone out for a walk in that weather when the cough returned and forced him to stop. He covered his mouth with the palm of his hand and the intense coughing attack ceased within a few seconds. The metallic taste invaded his mouth. He saw pink phlegm on his palm.
The rain began to fall on her, mixing and diluting that mucus. Boris remained inert, he did not know for how long. They could have been seconds, minutes or hours. He only reacted when he heard Valery's voice speaking to him in the distance.
He stopped looking at his hand, looked up at Legasov.
"We will die in five years."
"What were you doing standing there?" The redhead asked as soon as Boris arrived. "You're soaked! You could get sick!.”
The man had already cleaned his phlegm with his coat. Same that ended up in the clothes rack they had in a corner of the place. To exemption from the coat and his head, he was completely dry.
"I wanted to walk and when I came back the rain took me by surprise. It's been a long time since I've seen the rain falling while I'm outdoors. Also, only the coat got wet. I'll be fine. “.
Valery looked surprised. Shaking his head.
"I know it sounds ridiculous, but I found it curious."
The man sat in front of his desk. He took a notebook from which he did not know its content and pretended to read it.
"Comrade Ryzhkov has accepted our suggestion to expand the exclusion zone."
Legasov nodded.
“It is fantastic”.
"Yes, it is."
Valery tilted her head, feeling bewildered. Feeling that Legasov was watching him, Shcherbina looked up, meeting his companion's worried eyes.
“What?” The politician asked.
"Boris, are you alright?"
"Of course I am Comrade Legasov."
“Borja...”
The man looked down again, making it implicitly clear that the conversation was over. Valery, feeling the heavy atmosphere that was beginning to settle on them, decided to sit in front of his own desk. Taking his small notebook and starting to write on it.
After a long time. Boris spoke.
"I saw the raindrops falling from the sky and wondered if it was the last time I could witness something like that."
Legasov nodded.
“Today I saw a young man crying near the central. He told me that a part of his suit had broken while cleaning Masha”.
Shcherbina did not flinch.
"It will always be said that we had it easier than them, Valera."
Two weeks later.
Boris was sitting in front of the bar counter at the Pripyat hotel. Somehow the neglected building had become a kind of refuge. He had taken one of the military vehicles and drove there. He had taken the cassette deck and the tapes what he found on that site so many months ago. He also carried a small bottle of Vodka with him. He drank it in little sips, slowly. Feeling that alcohol burned his throat. He couldn't be in the camper, he didn't want to make Valery more bitter with his mood.
He began to play one of the tapes, began with one of Lennin's many harangues until he became a voiceless melody. Electric guitar chords accompanied by a drums.
Knowing that you can die in five years is one thing. Having the absolute certainty that you will effectively die is something completely different.
The doctor had downplayed what happened. Saying that maybe it was just dry throat or maybe an irritation in the pharynx. Besides, apart from that coughing attack, he had not suffered another and felt relatively well.
He knew he had said it to calm him down, because Boris suspected that the man had no idea what was happening to him.
Shcherbina once again felt the unease he experienced when Valery told him they would die in five years. He was no longer able to silence the voice in his head that reproached him for having wasted his life. Even though he thought he had resolved to know that his life expectancy had been drastically reduced, doubts began to scourge his mind, wondering if he had lived well. If I hadn't wasted time.
Yes. He had married, he had formed a beautiful family, he forged an enviable career in the party over the years until he became the vice president of the council of ministers. But none of that had been, or would be, permanent.
Time passed and over the years eventually he was left alone. Widowed, his son finally formed a family, thus taking a different path from him and his position would soon pass into the hands of someone else.
He even felt ignorant. All the academic training and experiences he had obtained throughout his life had not prepared him for what he was living.
If it weren't for Legasov, he would be even more lost than he already was.
Legasov ... Valery.
He remembered the first time he called it that. When he distributed the sausage to those dogs and warned him to take care of his words. It had been so many weeks since that time but he could swear he had lived it just the day before.
Boris couldn't help shaking his head before smiling.
Valery was perhaps the most reckless man he had ever met in his life.
He knew as soon as Legasov hit the table during the first meeting they had, telling the most powerful people in the Soviet Union that something extremely serious had happened in Chernobyl based on the description of a rock.
He reaffirmed the fact when the scientist ran after Charkov himself. Demanding to know what had happened to Comrade Khomyuk. No matter what could cause him to be shot or worse, become the target of a man who, like his nation, did not tolerate dissidents.
Even when he valued that Valery quality, it also caused him terror.
He could no longer deny the fact that he had decided to protect him, but it was more than obvious that he could not be taking care of him forever. A tiny mistake, a phrase, anything that was not liked by Charkov or any other minister and his friend would end up in a situation that would escape his control.
Boris shook his head.
The imagination of Valera suffering, apart, far from him, made him feel chills.
He drank again feeling completely miserable. He felt incredibly tired, both physically and mentally. He didn't know when he fell asleep on the bar.
He woke up feeling sore, with someone else's coat covering him. He recognized the smell of tobacco and petrichor that the garment gave off.
Maybe that's why he wasn't surprised to see Legasov sitting in a chair. Writing in the notebook he always carried.
“What are you doing here?”
“Writing”.
"I mean the fact how the hell did you find me?"
"You left when we start to having dinner. I thought you had gone to a last-minute diligence related to cleaning, but I saw that the cassette deck and tapes were missing. You don’t know other place than this, and the fact that one of Tarakanov's men saw him cross the checkpoint in the direction here, it was not difficult to find you. ”
Boris wanted to smile, but the gesture did not end up coming out.
"You know me well, Valera."
"I don't think so." The scientist kept writing. "I can't imagine the reason that made you come to this place."
Boris sighed.
"I wanted to hear western music. The KGB continues to hear what happens in our camper but since we vacated the hotel, they stopped intervening”.
Legasov looked away from the notebook. He did not look convinced.
"There's something else." He muttered.
Boris smiled sideways.
“I told you. You know me very well.”
Boris took the last sip left in the bottle.
"Sometimes I have the feeling that everything is collapsing, and I have no place to lean on. I argued with comrade Ryzhkov about increasing the exclusion zone and he told me that we had already evacuated enough villages. That one kilometer more and that would end up discrediting the Soviet Union even more. I asked him if cancer, aplastic anemia, deformations in babies and everything that the radiation consumed would also be part of the discredit. He remained silent for a few moments but authorized it. Then he hung up on me”.
"So?" Legasov asked.
"So?" Shcherbina looked at him strangely.
“Boris, we have encountered this type of situation in innumerable occasions but they have never provoked a reaction of this nature on your part”.
Valery got up. He put the notebook and pen on the chair and walked towards Boris. The ukrainian also stood up.
"Does anything else happen?Something that has nothing to do with everything we are dealing with? You can speak freely here”.
The politician watched him. Valery looked genuinely worried about him. So much that it seemed endearing. He let the surge of pure love invade him from head to toe.
It was then that everything seemed to implode in Shcherbina's mind and he decided to do something that escaped all logic and reason.
He moved closer to him, finished with the distance between them. He took his cheeks and kissed him.
The contact was short lived. Boris himself had retired almost instantly. He felt in shock, as if he were a teenager giving his first kiss and not someone over 60 years kissing the man he considered his friend.
Valery's cheeks flushed. Trying to understand what had just happened.
"I don't like men." Shcherbina muttered feeling like a complete idiot. Imagining the possible scenarios, each worse than the previous one, that his indecency was about to unleash.
The ghost of a smile landed on Valery's lips.
"Me neither." The scientist replied.
This time it was Legasov who kissed him.
December, 1986.
In people's eyes, things between them did not change.
When they were in sight of the others, they continued with the work of containment, supervised the construction of the "sarcophagus" and tried to expand the areas where points with high radiation rates could be found. They argued, fought, Boris occasionally raised his voice and Valery threw darts full of truth that were going to stop where they hurt the most.
But alone, with as much discretion as possible, the russian and the ukrainian exchanged gestures full of affection. A coat on Legasov's shoulders every sleeping he sat in front of his desk. A bottle of Vodka waiting at Shcherbina's desk when he left and returned several hours later. Boris's hand on Valery's every time he felt overwhelmed. The look full of love that the politician only gave Legasov.
And if they were lucky and alone, they shared a kiss. Either on the cheeks or on the lips.
They dared no more. Someone could find out everything and that would give them a direct ticket to a psychiatric hospital or to a labor camp.
They had to conform.
One night, while they ate their rations brought from Kiev, Valery, talked about his cat. Something that seemed strange in Shcherbina's eyes considering that Legasov was not a man who was easy to talk openly about his personal life.
Still, the ukrainian listened attentively. He heard the story of how Legasov had found him when he was a kitten outside the Kurchatov Institute four years ago.
"And how did you name it?"
"Bogatyr."
"Bogatyr?"
“What?”
"Nothing, it's just that it's a weird name for a cat."
"Bogatyr is not just any cat. I found him in the middle of the night, it was so cold that my hands were numb but he didn't seem to care. He is a great hunter and does not fear the neighbor's dog. Don't you think it's a brave animal?”
Boris laugh willingly.
"Saying it like that, of course she's brave. Like his owner”.
Valery smiled.
Without knowing it, they were starting to say goodbye.
March, 1987. Vienna.
"Do you solemnly swear to tell the whole truth, only the truth and nothing but the truth?"
Although he had not heard it during the conference in Vienna, the phrase that someone from the committee had translated while he trying to understand a tv show did not stop spinning in his head throughout the day.
Yes, he had told the truth. But not completely.
Valery lamented in the hotel room. He wondered if he had done the right thing. I couldn't say it was the right thing since that would have meant humiliating a nation that is obsessed with not being. He hoped that the KGB would respect the treatment sponsored by Boris and repair the reactors with the utmost discretion, as promised.
Still, Legasov at the bottom of his heart knew that was not going to happen.
In a fair world, he would not even have seen the need to hide the truth. Maybe the accident in Chernobyl wouldn't even have happened.
The man sat on his bed, smoking the sixth cigarette of the night, in the dim light of a lamp in the bureau. Perhaps in other circumstances I would have left the hotel, walking a little through the surrounding streets, enjoying a completely different world. He would invite Boris to join him. But no.
I did not deserve it. He did not deserve to be rewarded or experience happiness for the atrocity he had just committed.
Someone knocked on his door.
He sighed as he exhaled the last breath of smoke. He crushed the cigarette in the ashtray and prepared to open.
When he did it and for the umpteenth time, the presence of Boris Yevdokímovich Shcherbina managed to steal his breath.
The man wore an impeccable navy blue suit. With white shirt and striped tie, combining dark blue with gray. He made his way through the room. It looked pristine and formidable.
He entered the room, closing the door behind him.
"You weren't at dinner."
"After what I just did, do you think I deserve a banquet?"
"We managed to mitigate the consequences of something that had never happened on the face of the earth. We deserve that and more”.
"No, Boris." Legasov shook his head.
The man sat back on the bed.
"I didn't tell the whole truth. I am not so sure that, without the pressure of the international community, defective reactors are fixed.
Boris cough.
"Charkov has given his word."
"It's a spy's promise." Valery laughed wryly. "Ulana was right."
The politician frowned. Even with the difficulty of the action, he flexed his legs, almost kneeling before Legasov.
"I will not deny that Khomyuk is right that we are naive in dealing with the KGB, but at least we have the possibility of fixing those reactors. You are scientists, Valera. Their duty is with the truth, but they are so worried trying to find it that they don't realize that there are people who don't want it revealed”.
Valery watched him.
"Your reasoning ability is incredible."
Boris smiled.
"Do you think im a too stupid to not understand the world around me?"
Valery smiled at him, then kissed him.
Normally it was the ukrainian who gave the kisses, not the other way around.
They kissed long and slowly. When they needing air they cut the contact. Putting their foreheads together and closing their eyes. Letting be enveloped by the warmth of their company.
Boris separated, Valery watched him, looked doubtful, wracking his brains, as if trying to choose the right words. The politician ducked his head and then whispered.
"There are no microphones ... and the three agents Charkov sent were already drunk before i came here."
Legasov chuckled. Blushing at the implicit invitation that those words contained.
He kissed him again. He began to take off his tie, Shcherbina sat up and then laid Valery on the surface of the bed.
Making love with Boris was not as he had imagined. It was not aggressive or impetuous. In the darkness and in a silence that was sometimes broken by groans or gasps, Valery loved Boris as he thought he would never do.
When they finished, the politician held him in his arms. He said in his ear that he loved him and then fell asleep. Valery watched him. Even when he could touch his hair, feel the warmth of his skin, see his chest rise and fall in each breath and listen to the beating of his heart, Legasov had a hard time believing Shcherbina was there.
With him.
He had a hard time believing that still carrying a death sentence, both of them had somehow managed to find some love in the midst of all that.
Love. The last thing someone expects to find in a place that is nothing more than death and tragedy.
Valery felt a tightness in his chest.
" Enjoy it while it lasts." He reminded himself.
Valery kissed Boris's forehead. Then he slept without dreaming.
Moscow.
"At the moment it will not be necessary for them to return to Chernobyl until the trial is held." Gorbachev leafed through the report submitted by Shcherbina. "The remaining tasks will be relegated to other members of the commission. If something comes up that needs your advice, they will be informed in a timely manner”.
Valery frowned.
"It's over ." He thought .
He directed a brief glance at Boris. The man beside him had simply nodded towards Gorbachev. Charkov watched the scene pleased.
"Meeting adjourned"
The ministers stood up, left the room, leaving them alone for a brief moment.
Valery tried to think of a proper farewell when a young soldier entered. Minister Charkov had sent him to provide transportation to Legasov to his home.
It was certainly something he couldn't decline.
He took the notebook from the inside pocket of his bag. He offered it to Shcherbina who, although he was confused for a few moments, did not hesitate to take it.
"Everything that happened in Chernobyl. I think it will be of great help for your testimony at the trial, Comrade Shcherbina”.
Boris nodded. Valery gave him a handshake. Muttering goodbye.
The ukrainian was left alone in the room. With a black book in his hand and a vacuum in his stomach that threatened to devour him.
When he returned to his apartment he felt a little more fatigued than usual, he did not know if it was because of the sudden farewell or the fact that it was a little hot. Boris took off his jacket, loosened his tie and sat down in the living room. It was then that he paid attention to the book that Valery had given him.
“ Everything that happened in Chernobyl.”
Shcherbina opened the notebook and started leafing through it. There were annotations of the reactor, projections of the effects of radiation on the population, periods of semi-decay of the radioactive particles. All the pages were dated, he advanced sheet by sheet, reading things he could not quite understand, wondering why Valery looked so compelling to want to give him the book. He continued reading until November 2th. Just below a couple of notes about the sarcophagus he found something different.
“I will keep intact the memory of this moment. I'm going to keep it whole because, although I knew it a long time ago, I'm convinced that I fell in love today”.
November 2th. It was the day they kissed for the first time.
He continued leafing through, to find more and more fragments among all that tangle of chemical symbols and numbers. He delighted in the words. That although they were not said, they made him feel loved.
On the last written sheet, located about thirty before to finishing the notebook, a note appeared.
"All this is for you".
I decided that it should be written this way because in the end it was Chernobyl that united us. I know that "this" was going to have an end, either because of us or someone else's fault. I don't even know if they allowed us a worthy goodbye. But I want you to know that I enjoyed every moment and I want to thank you. Thank you for loving me even knowing that death stalks us, even with the certainty that time will run out.
It's strange. Isn’t it? The fact that things we don't see are killing us or encouraging us to live. They make us feel guilty or on the other way they redeem us.
I don't talk about radiation itself. And I don't want to talk about death either.
I talk about love.
And I love you more than my life.
April, 1987.
“There has been no improvement since your last appointment. The deterioration is slow but constant. It's difficult for me to tell you how much time you have left. I will adjust your medications and their dosages. They won't cure you, but they will reduce your discomfort”.
“Fine”.
"The nurse will let you know when your next appointment will be, Comrade Shcherbina”.
The doctor withdrew from the office. Boris coughed again. He put the handkerchief he wore on his lapel over his mouth. Blood droplets were absorbed by the cloth.
"I know how much time I have left." The Ukrainian muttered to the void.
July, 1987.
“I voluntarily give my life the day they sent me to Chernobyl. Isn't that enough?
"No." Ulana replied. "It's not enough."
Valery remembered the conversation with Boris. He saw the blood on the handkerchief. He looked older, as if ten years had passed suddenly. It hurt to see him like this, feeling miserable for believing that his life had not been worth it.
"You were the one who mattered most."
He saw in Boris's eyes the desired absolution he needed.
Valery had already given his life, he was not willing for Boris's sacrifice to be in vain.
“I have not finished”.
"Your testimony has concluded."
"Let him finish." Shcherbina's voice rose. Powered by the look of Legasov.
If we go down, we go down together.
He listened to Valery's testimony, saw how each of his arguments moved him further and further away from him but he did nothing. He had already agreed to help him and now he would respect the decision he had made.
“And that's how an RBMK reactor explodes, with lies”.
As soon as the car advanced and saw Valera's face for the last time, Boris bitterly realized that he had lost it. He didn't need to ask Charkov what they were going to do with Valery. He had seen the same procedure being applied several times in the years he had been in the Party.
At that moment Shcherbina understood that he had never been Valery's protector. The scientist had been his. They didn't even let them say goodbye, but, being honest, they hadn't needed words.
Boris refused to let the tears that flooded his eyes run down his cheeks. On the other hand, Ulana began to fall apart in sobs, invaded by grief and although Boris was enraged, he hugged her.
“The suffering is temporary. It will stop hurting soon”. Shcherbina muttered.
He didn't know if those words had been uttered to comfort Ulana or himself.
April, 1988.
"My uselessness is coming to an end."
Of course he wasn't going to record a tape for him. Valery, as much as he wanted to, could not commit the madness of leaving something incriminating for Charkov and his men to make Boris last months more tortuous and difficult than they already were.
He had already left the book. They had been through so much. They didn't need to talk about what both of them were already aware of. His love story, if it could be called that, would die with them, as it should be.
Valery looked out the window, watched the night sky. He remembered when they talked about stars and gods from other cultures. He remembered the first kiss, clumsy and impulsive and those who followed him. He remembered the looks, the gestures. Feeling buried under his body every time he hugged him. When they made love. The trial and the last time he saw it.
They couldn't even say goodbye.
It happened. They mattered. And now it's over.
Boris didn't need to tell him that he loved him. Valery had enough with the endearing look that only he gave to feel loved. More than words or kisses, more than tapes or books, Borja looked him and that was love in Valery's eyes.
He filled Bogatyr's bowls, after that he set out to record his last tape.
When he ran out of words, in silence, he would be ready to leave.
залишатися на тисячу років
Part of Boris died the day he informed of Valery decease. The news had come from Charkov's lips. That man commented in the middle of a council meeting as if it were the weather forecast.
Shcherbina didn't scream, didn't cry o began to curse. He did not react even when he was told that the scientist had committed suicide. He let the news impact him from head to toe. He knew that Charkov was watching him but he was impassive.
He coughed and let the blood be absorbed by his handkerchief.
The council of ministers went on to another issue but Boris was not with them. It was as if his mind had moved back to Chernobyl and this time he had remained permanently there.
Two days later he decided to go to Valery's apartment. The relevant expertise was over. The door was not locked. Boris entered the house. Of Valery there was only the usual disorder, books on the table, cigarette ashes in the ashtray and a cat that seemed to have no idea of what was happening. Maybe he had left after all the fuss and the animal had barely returned. Hoping to see his owner again.
Without wasting time, Boris took the cat and left there.
The cat was incredibly quiet. After fedding him, Bogatyr had lay down in front of the door, as if waiting for something or someone. Boris sat on the couch, turned on the TV because he couldn't stand the deafening silence by drilling his head.
Valery was dead. Valera was gone. But Bogatyr and Borja were waiting for him. Boris felt tears fall down his cheeks as he watched the nightly news.
He sobbed, starting to breathe roughly.
He cried like a child.
The next day Charkov asked about the cat.
"What cat?" Shcherbina replied with a smile on his face.
The head of the KGB shook his head. He understood that this battle was lost and after all, with Valery Legasov dead, a cat and a dying vice president no longer represented any threat.
Lagasov's funeral occurred.
Shcherbina certainly did not attend. He spent the day buying a litter box and food for Bogatyr. The animal had spent the day in front of the door. In the expectation that its owner decided to return.
It wasn't until a week later that he decided to go to the Novodevichy cemetery. He walked until he found Valery's grave. He was comforted by the fact that there were fresh flowers in there. A consolation that there were people other than him who had not forgotten him.
The man sighed. Even if he wanted to, he couldn't cry. He had done it every night since he learned of Legasov death that he had no more tears left.
"I know you're dead Valera." The man thought. "You died and you took a part of me with you. Bogatyr is always at the door, waiting for you. Im waiting for you too. I know they already buried you, for God’s sake, I know they buried you a week ago and I know you'll never come back but I'm still waiting for you. I wonder if the radiation besides fucking my lungs is also leaving me like a lunatic. I miss you Valera, I miss you so much. Since returning from Chernobyl I feel that I left a cemetery to enter an asylum. I read the book you gave me, and I can only thank you”.
Boris sighed. The earth was still fresh. He understood that Valery would never be with him again.
He left without more. Bogatyr was waiting for him at home.
Three weeks later.
Tapes, tapes. The fucking tapes.
It started with them. It was fair that they also end.
During that meeting, where everything seemed to implode due to Legasov's posthumous allegations and Charkov's inability to keep them silent, Boris experienced a satisfaction he had not felt since that Lunar Rover moved over Katya. He did not reach the same level of happiness but he approached.
The KGB leader kept watching him. The politician was impassive. When the meeting ended, Charkov questioned him in his office. He asked with all the diplomacy he had if he knew anything about the tapes.
He knew it was dangerous, but Boris allowed himself to smile wryly.
"Oh, Comrade Charkov. I have been so busy these months between work and the hospital that everything related to Chernobyl has completely escaped my attention. So how could I, a simple, sick minister, know what a man who didn't even exist was doing?
If the KGB leader was upset he didn't show it.
"Don't take it personal, comrade Shcherbina. I trust you but ...”
"You must verify. I understand perfectly.” Boris smiled as he sat down at his desk. “And to think that the Americans believe that Ronald Reagan invented that phrase”.
The atmosphere tensed. Charkov left the office. That dialogue was reminiscent of another one he had had a couple of years ago.
With a man who shouldn't have ever existed.
August 21, 1990.
“I’m okay”.
Boris said that and it wasn't a lie. After all those months breathing with poisoned lungs, it seemed that they had improved considerably. Since he had woken up he felt energized. Something that seemed strange to him.
The doctor listened to his pulse and lungs with the help of the stethoscope. He measured his pressure.
"I'm glad to hear that Boris Yevdokímovich. You have to take advantage of the good days, isn't it?
“Yes. Enjoy them while they last”.
When he said that phrase he couldn't help thinking about Valery.
The doctor left his apartment, without prescribing anything additional to his usual medications. Minutes later, his son phoned. The man spoke in the beginning to know about their state of health and from there they left for more topics. They talked for more than two hours. They had not talked for so long that even when the subjects were banal, Boris could not help feeling a warmth in his chest. They ended the call with the promise that their son would visit him with the rest of the family next week.
Bogatyr wandered around. Eating at times to then climb Shcherbina's lap demanding attention. The man stroked the cat as he watched the noon news. When the program ended, he read Valery's notebook for the umpteenth time.
After that, he left his apartment, walked the streets for a while. Enjoying the warm weather and the sun rising high in the sky. He ate at a restaurant and before nightfall he returned home.
At night he watched the night sky. Aldebaran was there. The brightest point of the constellation of Taurus. It had been a great day. Common and current. But there was beauty in the world and Boris allowed himself to appreciate it.
Shcherbina felt that he was floating in the bed of his room. And in the stillness that his apartment offered him, he kept reviewing in his head the lives that had been intertwined with his. His family. Tarakanov, whom he had seen again in Spitak and had become an invaluable friend. Ulana, with whom he kept in contact because it made no sense to be upset with her and who gave her condolences when Legasov died.
Finally he remembered Valery. He remembered the talks, victories, failures, love. Everything that had united them in life, that had cracked as soon as it was decided that Legasov should be erased and that he ended up breaking when he died. That had been a devastating blow, but frankly he was not surprised. He had been a good man, but he was dying, and yet he knew he had a duty to the world.
Even with grief, he remembered with satisfaction Charkov's face when everything was uncovered.
Because he had not understood that someone like Valera could not be erased from the face of the earth. People like him never really left. Shcherbina understood it days after the trial. And that idea was still in his mind even now.
Boris could not prevent the fatigue from dominating him and his eyes closed.
And finally everything stopped hurting.