WORSE THAN RADIATION and 7 odd Chernobyl stories

[FROM] Part 2. The Night        [...]        I'm sifting through the last pile. I'm desperate for sleep, back of my neck aches...        I divide the work mentally in into components. I am in a fury — dissecting — crushing — smelting it — piecemeal — until it's done...        Every line of doses — is a line of attack.        Every crew registered — an exhalation.        One, one more, another one...        ... to lay my head on my hands on the cosy polythene of the table — and sleep, sleep...        'Hi there, father-commanders!'        A white moon of a face looms in the black opening of the window.        'Hi, Stasik!','Hi! Come in.'        Stasik is the dosemetrist for the whole camp. He's from our company, there was a moment when we pushed hard to have our man in this position.        Stasik comes in, the instrument on a strap over his shoulder.        'You going out or coming back from your round?'        'Back.'        'How much is it?' Valera asks.        '0.3,’ I reply confidently. Since I’ve been here the camp background has never varied — we're a good distance from the NPP.        '0.3 milliroentgens an hour,' Stasik confirms.        'How much ... compared to the normal background...’ Valera screws up his eyes.        '20 pre-war levels. More.'        'And in the tents?'        '0.2.'        'And where is it highest?' Valera keeps up the questioning.        'At the compound gate — 0.5.'        'Vehicles bringing it in.'        'Don't worry, villages get evacuated at 0.7.'        'Can I have one of your nice white man's fags?'        We present Stasik with a filter cigarette.        'Merci. By the way — Special Section ordered me to turn up tomorrow morning after breakfast at the vehicle compound. With the instrument.'        We prick up our ears:        'What for?'        'To measure the armics. To find out who's been slipping past the PUSO on the way out of the zone.’        I whistle — that's all we need!        'Part of a campaign against over-irradiation.'        'Why don't they stick to catching spies...'        We're in a real mess. The number of times I said — we should leave them in the parking area in Chernobyl... And now we’ll catch it.        'Did you see that new camp — over beyond ours? Three tents behind barbed wire with a sentry — didn't even let our people go near it... Military prosecutor's.'        It's started... Life was too good to be true, too peaceful.        NEXT >>> Design by: M.Opalev Studio ARWIS  Kharkov, 2001