Philip Hemplow: Sarcophagus

Looking over Yosyp’s shoulder, Victoria watched the video feed bounce around madly as the RIV scudded across the floodlit snowfield, its motor buzzing like an electrical saw. The most direct route to the interior was through one of the many gaping holes in the Sarcophagus itself. Victoria guided Yosyp towards two warped metal panels at ground level, already rehearsing the most efficient route it could take through the reactor once they got it inside.

“Concentrate on the low risk areas,” advised a voice from behind her. It was Osterberg. He had left the winch controls and was pulling on a protective smock and gloves. “Head upstairs, and I will go downstairs.”

“What are you doing?” hissed Victoria, looking around wildly for the VV commander, only to see him lecturing his troops on the other side of the winch, a hundred feet away. “You heard what they said. They’ll shoot you if you try to go inside!”

“I would appreciate it if you could stop them from doing that,” replied the German, with a mirthless smile. “I have to find those men. There are twelve lives at stake.”

“Thirteen, if you go in as well!”

“I will be fine.”

“What if you get stuck, and you can’t get out before the place is sealed?”

Osterberg cupped her cheek fondly with one giant gloved hand. “Not possible. We Germans do not die ironic deaths.”

Ignoring her protestations he pulled the respirator mask down onto his face and lifted the elasticated hood over his hair. Then, with a squeeze of her shoulder, he was gone, jogging towards the reactor through the snow.

One of the VV guards noticed him before he was halfway there and alerted the captain with a shout. Victoria watched the captain’s face cloud with anger, saw the guards raise their weapons—and found herself rushing through the snow to put her body between their gunsights and her friend.

“Hold on! Don’t be bloody… stupid!” she panted, while the captain yelled at the departing German. “Just—wait a minute, Captain! He’s spent more time in that reactor than any man alive. There’s no point in stopping him now. Are you listening?”

She stopped in front of them, waving her arms to distract them and stop them taking aim. For a moment she wondered how she had ended up staring down the barrels of a dozen rifles, in a blizzard, in Ukraine. Maybe they would just shoot her, and then Osterberg. She tried not to think about that.

“He’s got responsibility for this place. He only wants to see if he can bring any of his people back out. And yours! Your people, too! Just let him do it.” She sounded braver than she felt.

A quick glance over her shoulder confirmed that Osterberg had almost reached the Sarcophagus, barely visible now through the pelting whiteness. Beyond him, the Carapace was a giant, creeping shadow that became sharper and more distinct as it inched forwards, preparing to eclipse Chernobyl reactor number 4.

The captain was glaring, teeth clenched. His men kept their guns trained, and waited obediently for the order to fire. Osterberg reached the breach in the reactor wall and squeezed inside, and the RIV followed him like an obedient dog.

Victoria exhaled softly, and offered up a silent prayer of thanks. When Osterberg came back out, she might just shoot him herself. Why could he not just stick to the plan? Though she had been nearly as stubborn, she reminded herself, when he’d demanded she leave the site.

“Your friend is a stupid bastard!” the VV captain spat, an angry tic pulling at his mouth. “If he returns he will be arrested, I can promise you that! Does he mean to just leave these winches to run out of control?”

“His men can manage the winches,” replied Victoria, hoping as she said it that she was right. “All they have to do is adjust the cable tension to balance the load. Anyway, what will you be doing to help?”

She realised she had crossed a line as soon as she said it, and quickly turned around to walk away. He called after her angrily.

“Treasure your ignorance, Doctor! It might just save your life!”

Fighting tiredness and cold, Victoria stumbled back to the shelter of the lean-to. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to go to Majorca for Christmas, after all. It might at least help her feet thaw out. Behind her, the captain set about redeploying his brigade of armoured vehicles, sending them charging around in the snow, presumably in accordance with some kind of tactical doctrine. The ground continued to vibrate even after they had gone, and it was a moment before Victoria realised that it was the approach of the steadily creeping Carapace that was causing it.

Yosyp was glued to the screen of his laptop, nudging the RIV forwards with minute movements of the thumbstick on the control unit. Hunched forwards, staring slack-jawed at the screen, he reminded her of Malcolm playing his tiresome video games. She sat down next to him on the crate the RIV had been stored in, and tried to work out what was happening onscreen.

The robot seemed to be navigating a narrow corridor, one half of which was screened off with plastic sheeting. Wires drooped along the wall, but no current ran through them anymore. All power to the Sarcophagus had been shut off when the Carapace started moving. Yosyp was relying on a pair of bright LED bulbs to see where he was going, although he was probably using those rather than the infra-red camera purely for Osterberg’s benefit.

As she watched, the German pushed past the body of the RIV in his bulky protection suit. He bumped against one of the microphones, drawing an aggressive crackle from the laptop speakers, and briefly drowning out the tocking of the on-board Geiger counter. Victoria watched him on camera, raising his radio to his mouth, but still jumped when the handset in front of her burst into life.

“Yosyp? Come in, Yosyp.”

Victoria grabbed the radio before Yosyp could, and thumbed the ‘send’ button. “It’s Victoria. Yosyp is driving. That was a bloody foolish thing you just did, Wolfgang! You could have been shot! I could have been shot!”

His voice was muffled by the respirator, and she had to strain to make out his reply. “I think not. One of the sentries told me that their rifles are loaded with blanks. They do not trust the men to carry live ammunition so close to the Sarcophagus. Tell Yosyp that there is a ladder here. I will climb the ladder but the robot cannot. You know where we are?”

“Somewhere near room 190, looks like, on the right of the turbine hall.”

“ Ja , that is right. I will check the turbine hall. You and the robot go to the control room. I will meet you there.”

“Be careful, Wolfgang,” begged Victoria, but he didn’t reply, putting the radio away so that his hands were free to climb the ladder.

Yosyp accelerated the RIV around him, the sound of its motors whining through the laptop speakers as he let it pick up speed. Victoria laid a cautionary hand on his arm. “Slowly, Yosyp! You’re kicking up dust. There’s enough radioactive crap in the air already. Just go gently.” He slowed obediently to a crawl, moving through the gloomy interior at walking pace. “There’s a flight of stairs beyond the next doorway,” continued Victoria, refolding a map of the Sarcophagus to show the area they were navigating. “Head for the next floor up.”

The RIV’s oversized, articulated tracks could handle even steep stairs without too much difficulty, but climbing them was painfully slow compared to going down them. Discarded fireproofing equipment and bits of bent and broken stair rail threatened to snag the chassis, making navigation even more treacherous. Yosyp stared at the screen with intense concentration, grimacing silently as he eased the ungainly machine up to the next storey.