Page 37 of The Half Life of Valery K

‘It was.’

‘We live in a James Bond novel,’ Valery said, pleased.

Shenkov smiled, or halfway smiled.

A small mental siren went off to inform Valery that he ought to be enjoying himself less. He had to dredge around for the reason, and then felt terrible when he found it. ‘Your baby, was it …’

‘She’s six now. She’s all right.’

So there were still miracles. ‘Good.’

They were both quiet for a while.

‘I suppose the question now is whether Moscow knows there’s a problem here, or if the cover-up was so quick that they missed it,’ Shenkov said at last.

‘They know. They’re telling you to limit people’s time outside close to the Lighthouse, they’re telling you not to let scientists sit around outside. Your own agent told me to wait in the car when I found Sasha. The figures on our maps are rubbish but whoever made your regulations knew very well.’

Shenkov said nothing for a while. ‘Can you measure what the radiation readings are inside the city?’ he asked. ‘Without obviously waving a dosimeter around?’

‘Why? What’s the point of knowing?’

‘Because if we know what we’re dealing with, we can take measures ourselves. Barbed wire on the banks of the Techa, like you said. Find reasons to close off anywhere especially bad. Moscow isn’t the only one who can bury things under paperwork.’

Valery took a breath to say no, he had no subtle way of measuring it, but then stopped. ‘Radiation shows up on film. Yes, film and sticky tape actually, we’ll be away.’

Shenkov was staring at him. ‘You can make a dosimeter out of some film and some tape.’

‘People think science is all specialist expensive stuff, but it’s mostly made of kitchen rolls and fridge magnets and we just spray it black when anyone with a news crew turns up.’

Shenkov did not look reassured about the state of modern scientific progress. ‘Then what do you do?’

‘Pin it up in various places round town for an hour, develop it, see what the results are.’

Shenkov took off his security lanyard and looped it round Valery’s neck instead. ‘In case anyone stops you.’

‘Thank you,’ Valery said, surprised, and too touched. He looked down at the pass and brushed the dark cord of the lanyard, ‘KGB’ woven in yellow on to it ten or twelve times.

Shenkov cradled Valery’s shoulder to turn him away. ‘Come on, let’s go in. I’m cold.’ I’m cold, not it’s cold, or you’ll get cold, or even, remember the radiation. Valery liked him a lot for that.

‘What are you doing for the rest of the day?’ Valery asked.

Shenkov took a newspaper out of his coat pocket. It was the one Valery had seen at the cafe on Saturday, the aliens in kyshtym!! one. ‘I’ve got to frighten a journalist. We don’t want anyone investigating funny lights and finding a big secret nuclear installation.’

They went inside laughing, and despite everything Shenkov had told him about the explosion, the extent of it, the radiation, Valery felt happy. It was very good to laugh with someone.

While Shenkov went to frighten his journalist, Valery dissected a film reel and made sixteen badges out of it. He used pin-on staff-card holders. He took eight of them to the mouse room and exposed the first to the uranium block for long enough to give it one roentgen, then the next for two, three, up to eight. Once they were developed, he’d have a clear scale. A light square of film would mean no radiation; a dark one would mean a lot.

The other eight he took out walking. In case they all got irradiated through his pocket, he left seven in a cupboard in the lab and took one out to the lake shore, where he pinned it to a signpost at chest height to stay out for an hour. The second, he pinned to a taxi stand on the main road; the third, on the edge of the school playing field, which was open because people walked their dogs there. Then out to the forest edge. After placing each one, he drew a line on the face of his pocket watch in marker pen to remind himself when he would have to get back to collect them. Nobody asked him why he was in and out so much, even Dr Resovskaya. He was just being Odd Gulag Man.

When he got back, having collected all the badges again after their hour was up, the students were worrying about whether or not slightly radioactive rain might induce balding, and they were deep in negotiations about who to send out for hats. He watched them for a while, tempted to chip in and recommend hazmat suits.

The phone rang before he’d even taken off his coat. It was next to his desk, so he picked it up.

‘Biology lab?’

‘Valery?’ Shenkov said at the other end. Valerie, like English. ‘Can you come to the office of the Lake News in town? It’s next to the theatre.’

‘Of course. Why?’