'An engine block. I got a van specially outfitted, with jump seats for the customers.'
'Then they'll just be two customers riding along, as usual.'
'But I sense desperation. Desperation means risk, and risk means money. A thousand each.'
'Five hundred for both. You're going anyway. The real question is why you would come back.'
Bela spread his arms. His chains and medals jingled. 'Look around. I've got thousands of auto parts to sell.'
'Because you're losing your hair. Look in a mirror.'
Bela touched his hairline. 'What a joker. You had me for a second.'
Arkady shrugged. 'And the virility is normal?'
'Yes!'
'Five hundred for transportation for two to Kiev, for a service that you usually provide for free. Half to start and half on arrival, to start immediately.'
'Immediately? We're pulling the engine now, but it's not ready.' Bela glanced in the wing mirror of a car.
'Any dryness of the mouth?'
'It's the dust, the wind always kicking it up.'
'You'd know better than I. It's just that everyone rotates time here except you. I don't want to see you holding on to a sack of money with one hand and an IV tube with the other.'
'Don't lecture me. I was here for years before you showed up, my friend.' Bela slapped dust off his sleeves.
'My point exactly.'
'Change of subject!'
They turned the corner onto an avenue of heavy trucks. Halfway down the row was a shower of sparks.
'Fifteen hundred.' Bela touched his hair again.
'I hate haggling,' Arkady said. 'Why don't we do this? Clean your hairbrush and brush your hair. We'll start at five thousand. No, we'll start at ten thousand, and for every new hair in the brush, we deduct a thousand.'
'I wouldn't have any money left.'
'And we haven't mentioned yet that you're illegally selling state goods.'
'They're radioactive.'
'Bela, that's not a mitigating factor.'
'What do you care? They're Ukrainian goods. You're Russian.'
'I'll shut you down.'
'I trusted you.'
'Nothing personal.'
'Five hundred.'
'Done.'
To prevent the removal of the hotter engines, the hoods of some trucks had been welded shut. Bela's welder, in a mask and greasy coveralls, was cutting one open with an acetylene torch. A lifting sling and a crane stood by to pull the engine out; then the welder would seal the hood again. It was a perfect system. Arkady checked his dosimeter. The count was twice normal. Well, what was normal?
Feeling high from a successful negotiation and the euphoria of a sleepless night, Arkady detoured. Instead of returning directly to the dormitory, he went to Eva's cabin to explain to her that while he had to report to Moscow, he could return in a day or two on his own. Even if he wasn't allowed back in the Zone, they could meet in Kiev. She was difficult. He was difficult. They could be difficult together. They could try to 'forge the glorious future,' as the banners used to say. Or fight and break up, like everyone else. He imagined the entire conversation in advance.
As Arkady rode the motorcycle up to the cabin, he saw Alex's Toyota truck parked at the garage, and as he walked to the screen door of the house, he heard a scuffle within. There was something about the sound that prevented him from rushing in immediately. No one was in the front room; no one played the piano or sorted through the papers on the desk. He heard no real conversation: instead, a groan and a noise like shuffling feet.
Arkady moved to the bedroom window, and there, through the lilacs, he had a view of Alex and Eva. They stood together. Her bathrobe was open, and he was pressing her against a bureau, his pants down, his buttocks flexing in and out. She clung limp as a rag doll, arms around his neck, as he pounded his flesh into hers, covered her mouth with his. Was this the magical dance floor from the night before? Arkady wondered. A change of partners, obviously. As Alex pulled Eva's head back by her hair to kiss her she saw Arkady at the window. She freed a hand to motion him to leave. The bureau, jostled, spilled brushes, pictures, perfume bottles. Alex saw Arkady in the bureau mirror and more vigorously lifted her with his strokes. As she rocked, Eva listlessly watched Arkady. He waited for some signal from her, but she closed her eyes and laid her head on Alex's shoulder.
Arkady backtracked to the bike, staggering as if he'd lost his sense of balance. It was a little early in the day to cope with this. Apparently, Eva hadn't expected him back. All the same, it was, he felt, a little sudden. And it seemed to spell farewell. He felt a rage take over, although he wasn't sure at whom. This was, he understood, why domestic quarrels ended so badly.
Alex came out of the cabin's screen door, tucking his shirt in, buckling his belt, the man of the house encountering an unexpected visitor. 'Alas, poor Renko, I knew him well. Sorry you caught us like that. I know it's painful.'
'I didn't know you would be here.'
'I thought you were gone. Anyway, why not? She's still my wife.'
'Did you rape her?'
'No.'
'Was there resistance?'
'No. Since you ask.' Alex looked back at the cabin as Eva appeared through the haze of the screen door. 'It was very good. Felt like home.'
Arkady walked to the cabin door. As he reached the front step Eva belted the screen door and backed up to the middle of the little parlor clutching her robe tight. 'She'll get over it,' Alex said. 'Eva is tougher than she looks.'
Arkady rattled the door. He considered ripping it out, but she shook her head and said in a hoarse voice, 'This is none of your business.'
'You're upsetting her,' Alex said.
'Are you bruised?' Arkady asked.
Eva said, 'No.'
'I need to talk to you.'
'Go away, please!' Eva said.
'I need to-'
This was exactly the sort of scene that police the world over hated. Two men starting to wrestle on the ground, a motorcycle kicked over, a woman sobbing inside the house. The gun in Alex's hand was the next escalation. He pushed it against Arkady's temple and said, 'We had an understanding, you and I. You came here for an investigation. Fine, investigate. Any questions you want. But leave Eva alone. I take care of Eva. She needs someone reliable who will be here tomorrow and the day after. Go back to Moscow now, and no one's the worse.'
'I was lonely,' Eva said. She came to the screen. 'I phoned Alex and asked him over. It was my idea.'
'All of it?'
But she retreated from sight.
'Is that good enough for you?' asked Alex. 'So, you're finished here, right? We can be friends again. We'll run into each other on the street in Moscow, remember our drunken samogon party and pretend to wish each other well. Agreed?'
Alex was first to his feet. He tucked the gun, a 9mm, into the back of his belt. Arkady rose more slowly.
'One question.'
'The investigator is back on the case. Excellent.'
