Chapter Text
Chapter 3
Chernobyl, 1986
Dasha lost her virginity in a car.
Her friends -well, the few she had from high school, as she had never been particularly popular -used to say it felt like floating among the clouds, only reaching the sun at the very end. They said it was romantic, the way you looked into each other’s eyes, the way you felt the man’s hands all over you, as if he were trying to memorize every inch of you like a map. They spoke of how good it felt when your skin touched his, when there was biting, scratching, panting. How beautiful it was to see pleasure on their faces, and how good it felt to come apart together.
To make love.
Men had never truly attracted Dasha. Around the more dominant, assertive ones, she had always wanted to be better than them, to prove she was no less. But beyond competitiveness -and, at times, outright hatred when they tugged at her skirt or called her names- she had never felt anything else. The gentler, smarter boys posed no issue either. They simply failed to spark her interest. Some of them were funny, handsome, intelligent, diligent, but whenever Dasha imagined kissing one of them, she felt a strange compulsion. As though someone were asking her to complete a task she had no desire to do.
For years, she did not worry about it. She hardly even thought about it. But as she grew older, the girls around her began to fall in love, sneak around with boys behind their parents’ backs, kiss in hidden corners of the schoolyard. And still, Dasha remained untouched by any of it.
At first, it didn’t bother her. She thought perhaps she was just slower than the others in this regard. Then she thought maybe she was too focused on her studies. Then she wondered if growing up with her father and brothers had made her so weary of men that she simply couldn’t fall in love with one. And when she ran out of explanations, she truly began to panic. She couldn’t understand what was wrong with her.
Her friends told her maybe she just wasn’t a romantic person. Kissing could be messy anyway, sometimes downright disgusting, especially if the chosen “knight” had just eaten a large bowl of onion soup. But sex? That was different. That was better. You didn’t even have to kiss if you didn’t want to. That’s where you could truly soar. Surely, all she needed was good sex, and she would realize she had been overthinking it all along.
So Dasha decided to try.
She knew a boy in the year above her liked her. Her friends were always gossiping about it. He didn’t impress her much, but she wanted to believe them, that something would change.
She met him at night, after her family had gone to sleep. Quietly, she opened the gate, slipped past the animals, and walked through the darkness to their meeting place. Damp blades of grass brushed against her bare ankles in the cold night, and stray branches caught on her skirt.
The boy was already waiting in his car.
Dasha took a deep breath before opening the door. She told herself she only had to get through this, and then she would be like everyone else.
Happy.
They didn’t talk much. They both climbed into the back seat, wasting no time. Dasha didn’t undress completely, it was cold, even inside the car, and she didn’t want to expose herself that much. The act lasted maybe ten minutes.
Afterward, the boy sat back, panting, wiping himself with a cloth he had prepared. Dasha remained silent.
She waited for the clouds, for the sun, for change. She waited to fall in love, to feel something for him, for anyone. She waited for the breathlessness, the moans, the scratching.
But nothing came.
She just sat there, legs parted, feeling only emptiness.
And a hint of humiliation.
Ulana’s car resembled the boy’s. Even at a glance, it was clear that it was an old model. The radio was rather rudimentary. The seats were soft, easy to sink into, offering little support. A small crack ran across the glass of the speedometer, and the fuel gauge was heavily scratched. A clean ashtray rested on the dashboard. The radio played softly, crackling slightly, some kind of Ukrainian folk music. The seatbelt hung loosely. Inside, the faint smell of cigarettes lingered, even though Dasha couldn’t spot a pack or a single stub anywhere. She took a deep breath, inhaling the scent.
She craved a cigarette.
“Do you smoke?” Ulana asked, not taking her eyes off the road.
Dasha turned toward her. She tried not to stare too openly, but she couldn’t look away from the woman’s beautiful face. From her precise eyes, fixed intently on the road. Her lips were set in a straight line, closed with such strictness. Dasha could have spent hours simply watching them as they parted and came together again. The way she softly drew in a breath through her nose, then let it out.
She wanted to become air, so that Ulana could breathe her in. So that she could be the air in her lungs, be consumed by her, giving every small part of herself away.
Dasha stopped herself.
This is too fast. And besides, what did she think she was doing, having thoughts like these about such a brilliant scientist in a situation like this? It was probably just the nicotine withdrawal speaking.
She was desperately craving a cigarette.
“Comrade?” Ulana finally took her eyes off the road for a few seconds to glance at her. Her brow lifted slightly; she thought Dasha hadn’t heard her properly. But
Dasha had heard her, more than that, she had been staring outright, which earned her a puzzled look from Ulana.
“What is it?” she frowned.
Dasha flushed with embarrassment. She hadn’t meant to stare at her like that, but the woman was far too captivating to look away from. Dasha had felt something similar before, more than once. But now it seemed as though all those past feelings paled in comparison to whatever this was.
“Nothing, nothing, sorry, it must be the fatigue.” she said, grasping for an excuse, then turned back toward the window.
At this, Ulana allowed herself a small smile. She found the girl sweet, there was something about her that made it seem as though she was trying, in her own way, to impress her.
“I asked if you smoke.” she repeated, her tone a touch softer this time. It was as much softness as she allowed herself. In truth, she wasn’t even entirely sure how to be gentle.
“Yes.” Dasha replied, looking at her again.
Ulana, still keeping her eyes on the road and one hand on the wheel, began rummaging in the compartment of the door beside her. After a moment, she pulled out an opened pack of cigarettes and a small box of matches, then held them out toward Dasha.
“Thank you.” Dasha said, taking the pack and slipping a cigarette from it. She set both the pack and the matches on the dashboard before lighting her own.
Ulana took one as well with her free hand, her gaze never leaving the road. But she couldn’t manage to light it on her own.
“Would you mind?” she glanced at her only with her eyes.
There was something intimate, to Dasha, in lighting her cigarette. She tried not to show it, but her hand trembled as she lifted the small flame closer and closer to the cigarette between Ulana’s lips. Closer and closer to those kissable lips. She wanted to touch them, but instead, she simply lit the cigarette, then dropped the spent match into the ashtray.
She rolled the window down slightly and took a deep drag. As the nicotine entered her bloodstream, a wave of overwhelming calm washed over her once more.
For a few minutes, they sat in silence beside each other. The radio continued to crackle softly between them. The car filled with the scent of cigarette smoke and the cool breath of the early morning air. They tapped ash into the tray one after the other. Sometimes their hands drifted close, and in those moments Dasha found herself hoping that even the smallest part of her skin might brush against Ulana’s. But it never did. She didn’t want to seem strange.
“Are you part of the investigation committee as well?” Ulana asked, breaking the silence.
“Something like that.” she said, taking a drag from her cigarette. “I suppose it only exists on paper. They don’t really allow me to share the results of my investigations with them.”
At that, Ulana glanced at her briefly, then returned her attention to the road.
“Interesting.” she said slowly, exhaling the smoke.
“And you? How did you end up in Chernobyl?” Dasha turned toward her. “Apart from the arrest part, of course.”
Ulana allowed herself a faint smile. But the moment she realized it, she quickly composed her expression again, returning to a serious look.
“We detected radiation in Minsk, at the institute. It was too high to have come from the surrounding area. I called around the institutes, no one knew anything. Then I called the Chernobyl Nuclear Power Plant.”
Dasha listened to her, holding her breath.
“And what happened? What did they say?”
Ulana stubbed out her cigarette in the ashtray.
“Nothing. They didn’t pick up.” she said, staring straight ahead at the road. Only now did the exhaustion, the uncertainty, and the pain truly surface in her eyes. She took a deep breath and continued.
“After that, I called a friend of mine who was able to provide some useful information. And then I came here immediately.” she finished.
Dasha looked at her in awe. She admired her courage, her determination, her boldness. There weren’t many women around her who dared to break the rules. Perhaps only Valentina.
For a time.
Back then, Dasha had thought about how good it felt to be around her. She was like summer, like sunlight after a long rain, or like the wind that blows the hats off children’s heads. With her, Dasha felt free.
Happy.
There was only one thing she hadn’t accounted for. Summer is fleeting. And deceptive.
“If I’m not mistaken, we’re almost there.” Ulana said, as they drove past more and more military vehicles.
Dasha’s stomach tightened. She remembered the conversation with the soldier, the commotion, the stress. But she forced herself to stay strong, focusing only on the fact that she was here to help and that, even if not by choice, she had to try again to present her calculations.
Perhaps this time, someone would finally take her seriously.
Ulana walked ahead toward the tent, with Dasha behind her, struggling to keep pace. Ulana was only a few centimeters taller than Dasha, yet she moved much faster, taking longer strides than Dasha could match.
They went on like this until a soldier stopped them.
“Comrade, you can’t go in here. Only soldiers and scientists are working inside.” It was the same soldier who had stopped Dasha earlier. She recognized his tall, lanky build, his stern gaze, the cap pulled low over his head.
“I am a nuclear physicist. Ulana Khomyuk, from Minsk.” She met the soldier’s eyes without flinching. She was like a wildcat ready to strike, intimidating, yet commanding respect.
“I don’t know who you are, and I have received no orders to let you in.” The officer did not take his eyes off Ulana.
Dasha felt that this might be her chance to make use of the fact that she had already been here before. She stepped out from behind Ulana and positioned herself directly in front of the officer.
“She is with me. She’s a scientist. Please allow us to continue our work.”
Dasha’s voice did not tremble, which even surprised her. She could feel Ulana’s gaze on her, but she did not turn to meet it. She wanted to appear resolute. Confident. Even though she was anything but at least she played the part well.
“No, I have not received any orders to do so.” the soldier said, once again staring off into the distance, not looking at her.
Dasha took a deep breath and stepped closer to him, close enough that the smell of sweat-soaked fabric and cigarette smoke reached her nose.
“But you will let us in-” she said firmly, “- because I assume you would not want to prevent us from carrying out our work. If you do not allow us inside, we will not be able to coordinate our calculations with the other scientists and leaders. Then this accident will not come to an end anytime soon, and when your superior arrives, you will be the one who has to explain why we have not been working, why you have obstructed us, why we have not yet found a solution to extinguish the fire or address the massive radiation. And if more people fall ill and die, it will be solely your responsibility, Comrade.”
She held his gaze for a brief moment.
“So allow the comrade to pass, and we will not cause any further trouble.”
She paused, then added quietly.
“For you”.
Dasha didn’t know whether she had just made their situation better or worse; all she felt was her heart pounding so hard it seemed ready to burst from her chest.
Only when the soldier slowly stepped aside a few moments later did she finally feel a wave of relief.
She tried to keep her expression stern and neutral, but she was so surprised that she could feel her features soften as she and Ulana walked past him. Only then did she dare to look at Ulana.
“That was quite convincing.” she nodded in approval.
Dasha couldn’t hold back a smile.
“The part about not causing him trouble?” she asked with a small smile at the corner of her lips.
The smile spread across Ulana’s face as well.
“Rather the rest of it.” she replied.
The atmosphere inside the tent was much the same as it had been before Dasha left. Perhaps the only difference was that people seemed slower now. The exhaustion was evident on their faces. Only one man was working continuously at a desk, writing without pause. His pen moved briskly across the page. His back was turned to them, yet they could still hear the scratching of the paper. Then, suddenly, he set the pen down and buried his head in his hands.
That was when the two women approached him.
“Comrade.” Dasha spoke. Valery looked up, as if snapped out of a deep thought.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t notice you.” he said, rubbing his forehead. Then his eyes fell on the other woman standing beside Dasha. He immediately extended his hand.
“Valery Legasov, nuclear physicist from Moscow.”
Ulana accepted the handshake, gripping his hand firmly.
“Ulana Khomyuk, nuclear physicist from Minsk. And I know that the reactor core is exposed, the zone is burning, and I’m certain the radiation levels are far higher than what’s being reported.” Ulana didn’t beat around the bush; she didn’t wait for formalities and stated immediately why she was there.
Valery nodded.
“I am aware of that, Comrade. I’m currently waiting for the results to arrive.” he said, clasping his hands together. He looked visibly stressed.
“What results?” Ulana stepped one pace closer.
“The true extent of the radiation.” he replied quietly.
Dasha’s eyes widened as she stared at him.
“They’re measuring it with a dosimeter that can register higher values? How did you manage that, Comrade?” Dasha was genuinely shocked. Ulana also raised an eyebrow. This was not what she had expected. She had assumed they would have to fight hard just to obtain the real radiation levels.
“It’s not my achievement.” he said, looking up at the two women. “It’s Comrade Scherbina’s.”
At that, Dasha’s eyes widened even further.
“Comrade Boris Scherbina?” she asked in disbelief.
“Yes.” Valery replied wearily.
“You mean Boris Scherbina, Deputy Chairman of the Council of Ministers of the USSR?”
“Yes, he was.” he replied.
“I wasn’t expecting that.” Dasha admitted.
“Comrade” he same soldier called out to Valery. “He has arrived.”
Dasha felt something tighten in her stomach. And she wasn’t alone. She could hear Ulana’s breathing change beside her. Valery slowly rose from his chair. Dasha and Ulana followed. The soldier didn’t even try to stop them anymore. That alone, even in this hopeless situation, filled Dasha with a small sense of confidence.
The man was wearing protective gear. It was lined with lead and he had on a gas mask, which was a rather frightening sight to Dasha. Besides them, two other men were present as well; Dasha deduced that one of them must be Viktor Bryukhanov, the director of the Chernobyl Nuclear Power Plant, and the other Nikolai Fomin, the chief engineer. She was almost certain, because their faces were filled with sheer terror as the man in protective gear drew closer and closer to them.
Dasha couldn’t read anything from the man’s expression. His loose-fitting green suit dripped constantly with water, the water used to rinse it, falling from him with every movement as he stepped. Boris stood rigidly beside Valery. His gaze was still serious, but it seemed as though any trace of cruelty had vanished from it.
When the man reached them, he removed his gas mask. At that moment, fear seemed to freeze everyone in place as Pikalov began to speak.
“It's not three roentgen. It's fifteen thousand.”
Valery closed his eyes. Dasha could almost feel the weight of the words pressing down on him, as though he were bearing them on his own body. Ulana stared at the ground, unable to find anything to say. Dasha simply looked ahead. Once again, she felt like a little girl with no idea what she was supposed to say.
Yet Bryukhanov was the first to speak.
“Comrade Scherbina… “ he began, but Boris cut him off and turned to Valery, which surprised even Dasha.
“What does that number mean?” he asked, looking at him seriously.
Valery drew in a sharp breath, as though he were about to deliver a verdict.
“It means the reactor core is exposed, and the fuel is melting. It means that the fire we are seeing with our own eyes is releasing nearly twice the radiation of the Hiroshima bomb. And that every single hour. Hour after hour.” - he said, glancing at his watch. The gears in his mind seemed to be turning with remarkable speed, even at such a late hour.- “Twenty hours have passed since the explosion. By now, that’s the equivalent of forty bombs. Another forty-eight by tomorrow. And it will not stop. Not in a week. Not in a month. It will burn and spread its poison until the entire continent is dead.”
Silence fell around them. No one said a word. No one had yet processed what they had just heard. Boris took a deep breath and tried to take control of the situation. As much as Dasha found him unlikable, she had to admit that Boris was indeed a leader.
“Escort Comrades Bryukhanov and Fomin to the local Party headquarters.” he ordered. Everyone knew what that meant. Nothing good for the two men.
Bryukhanov still tried to salvage the situation, but by then it was completely futile.
“Comrade…” he began, but Boris cut him off.
“Thank you for your service, gentlemens, " he said, and turned back to the others. Yet Dasha still heard Fomin shout back as he was being led away.
“Dyatlov was in charge! It was Dyatlov!”
Scherbina waited a few seconds until they disappeared into the night and silence returned once more, at least as much silence as could exist among so many people.
“Tell me how to put it out.” Boris said, addressing the question directly to Valery, but Pikalov answered instead.
“We use helicopters. We drop water on it, like on a forest fire.”
Dasha almost froze at that. If they started fighting the fire that way, the immense heat would instantly turn the water into steam, which the wind would then carry even farther, putting even more people in danger.
“No, no, you don’t understand.” Valery said. She felt a slight relief that she wasn’t the only one thinking this through. Valery stepped forward, visibly irritated, before continuing. “You are dealing with something that has never happened on this planet before. This isn’t a “fire.” This is a fissioning reactor core burning at over 2000 degrees. The heat will instantly vaporize the water, or worse, ionize it, and then… “ but Boris cut him off, nearly shouting, which made Dasha flinch.
“How do we…”he raised his voice, but at that moment Dasha also spoke up.
“Sand.” she stepped forward as well. Valery glanced at her briefly, then continued speaking, his voice now filled with emotion.
“Sand and boron. Thousands of drops, because helicopters can’t fly directly over the core, so much of it will miss, and there are other… risks as well…but I don't see any other way.” he exhaled.
“How much sand and boron?” Boris’s eyes seemed to burn with intensity. Dasha thought that if he kept going like this, flames might actually shoot out of him.
Valery averted his gaze. Dasha and Ulana could sense that this was not a good sign.
“Well I can't be as accurate as I'd…”
“For God’s sake!” Boris cut him off again roughly.
“Five thousand tons.” Valery finally said. At that, everyone fell silent.
Shcherbina and Pikalov exchanged glances. Five thousand tons? Had they heard that correctly? Dasha glanced at Ulana, as if silently calculating in their heads whether that much was truly required.
“And obviously we need to immediately evacuate an enormous area of -” Valery stepped toward Boris again, but Boris angrily cut him off.
“Never mind that. Focus on the fire.”
But Valery wouldn’t let it go.
“I am focusing on the fire. The wind is carrying the smoke, all that radiation- “
At that, Ulana raised her voice as well.
“At least evacuate Pripyat! It's three kilometers away!”
Boris snapped at both of them.
“This is my decision to make.”
“Then make it.” Valery replied. Dasha admired how much courage he had in him.
“I've been told not to.” Boris shot back.
“Is it or is it not your decision?! “ Valery spread his arms.
Touché.
“I am in charge here! This will go much easier if you talk to me about things you do understand, and do not talk to me about things you do not understand.”
Valery called after him one last time.
“Where are you going?”
Boris didn’t even look back as he shouted.
“I’m going to get you five thousand tons of sand and boron!”
And with that, he disappeared.
Valery remained where he was, unsure of what to do or where to go. Dasha and Ulana could only watch after him in silence as well. They both felt it was time to leave the base and return to the hotel.