Most others in metropolitan Kiev were asleep. Captain Azef of the KGB slept alone, his apartment filled with the sounds of his snoring.
Chief Investigator Chkalov of the Kiev militia snored in harmony with his wife, the combined symphony shaking the bed frame.
Farther north along the Dnieper River, farmers and some of their wives also snored. Except for an occasional rendezvous of young lovers in a barn, it seemed the entire world was asleep. In Pripyat, Nikolai dreamed an avalanche of unopened letters buried him, while Pavel dreamed a dream that would have angered his jealous wife. On the other side of town, Juli had just fallen asleep after another long talk with Marina.
In sleep, the joys and fears and desires of life were diminished, making the world calm and peaceful. At dawn the population would begin to scurry about, many of them queuing up at Saturday markets. But for now, speaking in relative terms, all was silent.
At the Chernobyl Nuclear Facility, it was never completely dark or quiet. The security lighting along the fences shimmered in the cooling pond, and the hum of power continued unceasingly. In the yard outside the main control room, extra lighting had been erected, and a crew of workers in hard hats stood about a high-tension tower.
Some drank coffee or tea from thermos cups; a few smoked. Two workers held a measuring tape along a slightly bent lower section of the tower.
Inside the main control room, one could not tell whether it was day or night because the room was wrapped in light from the fluorescent fixtures and the glow of the control console. At the sides of the console, which was over fifteen meters long, more light illuminated the room. A crew of electricians had lit up the back of the console in preparation for their work.
The chairs in front of the console had been pushed into the center of the room. No one sat at the chairs. A dozen or so technicians of various grades, from operator first class to engineer third class, stood at the console, concentrating on the lighted panels before them. All of the technicians were dressed identically in off-white uniforms and caps. Several observers, who stood back from the console area, also wore off-white uniforms. Two of the observers were women, but this was only apparent when they were viewed in profile.
The technicians muttered among themselves, careful not to speak loud enough for the observers to hear. They spoke of the weariness of operating what they quietly called “the bitch” under manual control for so many hours. They spoke about the absence of the chief engineer on this special shutdown duty. Several wondered if “bitch number four” would be shut down soon so they could go home. Others joked about the chief engineer referring to each of the units not as bitches, but as toys.
“The chief engineer home asleep while we play with his toy,” whispered one operator.
“I’d like to be there,” whispered another.
“Playing with his toy?”
“No, in bed with his wife.”
Several laughed quietly.
“You wouldn’t know what to do.”
“I’ve got experiments to perform.”
“You’d have to do them on yourself. Like our experiment here, seeing how long we can keep the power in our system up after the orgasm is shut down.”
Several laughed again.
“Keep talking this way,” said one of the assistant engineers, “and the director will have you sent to a place where you’ll have plenty of time to play with yourselves.”
There were a few chuckles, but not the comfortable laughter of earlier.
The supervisor of the electricians walked out from behind the console and stood with his thumbs hooked into his tool belt. “I don’t understand. First it’s supposed to be down this afternoon, then this evening, now it’s already after one in the morning. Up-down.
On-off. Nobody knows what they’re doing around here.”
Mihaly Horvath, the senior engineer in charge, looked from the console to the supervisor of electricians. “Can’t you be a little patient? What’s all the noise back there?”
“We’re removing access panels,” said the supervisor. “How much longer before you shut down? Now? Or do we have to wait until Sunday?”
“Not long,” said Mihaly. “What’s the big hurry?”
“You should know,” said the supervisor. “You’re the ones who made us come in for this shift. My boss wants us finished with the lock-ons by the end of the shift, but we can’t start until you shut this damn thing down.”
Mihaly did not answer the supervisor. Instead he gave orders to the other technicians and told them to watch the panel indicators.
The shutdown process had been in progress twenty-four hours.
There were signs of boredom, technicians looking at the clock and yawning, something they would not have done if the chief engineer had been on duty.
During the slow process of lowering the control rods while maintaining steam and water flow, various valves and pumps in the system went through many cycles. It was an excellent time to watch for malfunctions. And, theoretically, it should be a safer time because if anything should go wrong, the reactor was already in the process of being shut down.
The effect of bringing down the power of unit four could be heard in the large room containing the turbine and generator. The sound was similar to a jetliner very slowly shutting down its engines, or to a long, drawn-out sigh of relief. But power was not supposed to drop this fast, and a signal was sent to a panel in the main control room.
“I’ve got a light!” said one of the technicians in a loud whisper.
Others tried to whisper back, but the whispering got louder and louder and eventually changed to shouting.
“What is it?”
“The power is dropping too fast!”
“Why?”
“How the hell do I know?”
“Pavlov, you dog! Where the hell is Pavlov?”
“Stop calling me a dog, idiot! Especially with visitors here!”
“Did you program the computer?”
“For what?”
“To prevent the bitch from dropping below the minimum!”
“I… I don’t know.”
“You don’t know? Mother of God! We already hit the minimum, and look how it’s falling! Do something! What happened to the alarms? How come there are no alarms?”
“I… We shut them off.”
“Tasha! Begin the manual procedure for reinserting the control rods!”
“Reinserting?”
“Yes! Now, before it’s too late! Someone run and get the computer printouts! You! Is your foot still in your mother? Run and get them!”
Several minutes went by, during which the technicians who were not at the console went to the console. Everyone was visibly shaken as they watched the semicircle of lights and gauges. Their expressions conveyed confusion, annoyance, fear, and everything in between.
“I don’t know what’s happening!” said one technician. “First the pressure is down, then it’s up!”
“Same with the temperature!” said another technician. “It’s the highest I’ve seen! Wait! It’s not going down! There’s something wrong with the cooling system! Core temperature up two hundred!”
“All right!” shouted Mihaly, stepping back from the console.
“Bring her under control with the backups! Open the primary cooling backup valve slowly! Sergei, call out the temperature changes!”
“But this afternoon…” said one of the technicians.
“What about it?”
“The chief had us turn off the backups so we could work on those first.”
