"Miracle" Short Story - Part II

(Continued from the last post: "Miracle Short Story - Part I)

“I am an old man, I have nothing to fear,” replied Anatoly, now crouching over the block.  It reached up to his shoulders, rough edges, rough sides, a smooth round hole opening into it.  He traced hole's edges, feeling the thing’s heat through his glove.

Hastily, he withdrew his hand a second later. Some creature’s whiskered nose was timidly emerging.  With mounting surprise (and no small amount of disbelief) he watched as a grey head and white-fur-socked paws came into view.  A cat! An extremely tiny, white-grey kitten.

Padding weakly over his lead smock, into Anatoly’s lap, it stared up at him.  Green eyes, flecked with gold.

“How is it possible?” one of the engineers behind him cried out.

“Nothing can live in this,” another said, a doctor this time.  “Nothing at all, its, its …” he broke off.  Quietly this time, “Look at its ears.”

Anatoly, still caught by the cat’s gaze, didn’t respond.  With a now-ungloved, trembling hand, he traced the fur between its two left ears.  One pair was smaller, set in front slightly of the other.

He whispered, “Chudoturnyi”: miracle.  Surrounded by so much death, red sick trees, burnt houses, scattered concrete; still he stared into the cat’s eyes.  “Miracle” he whispered again.

"Miracle" Short Story - Part I

They were the first to enter the hot zone.  A team of doctors, physicists, and a technician from the reactor who had left just before the meltdown.  A small team of American’s was also part of the team, but so far, they had kept to themselves.  This was fine with Anatoly.  Not getting to know them meant saved time.  And any time saved meant less time taking 30 rads per second.

Unconsciously he smoothed the heavy lead smock pulled over his shoulders.  Though it slowed him down and let sweat pool under his arms, the weight was comforting, safe, secure.  To have something thick and dense between him and the radiation.  As a nuclear physicist, indeed as one of the top nuclear physicists, he had seen first hand the damage that invisible “radiatsiy” could do.  Men had come away from some of the first breakthrough tests looking sunburned.  Loss of fertility and leukemia were also common. They had been so careless in those early days.  Things were supposed to be different these days, precautions were taken, people were careful.

Not careful enough it seemed.

He was retired in the name of God! He’d thought he had left it all behind, but then a knock at the door… “There has been an accident.”

The harsh crackle of a geiger counter up ahead snapped him back to the present.  A slightly metallic grey block lay slightly askew a few meters in front of the group.  The youngest in their group, a doctor, Arkady, approached it, holding the now fully-awakened Geiger counter before him.  The constant crackling sound, a bit like endlessly tumbling gravel, rose into a flat tone.

“The meter has maxed out,” said Arkady, fear in his voice.
“It’s a piece of the control rod housing,” said one of the American engineers, “probably graphite,” he added.

Grunting, Anatoly nodded his assent.  Once again smoothing his leaden smock, he approached the object.

“You’ll kill yourself,” the American again.  The alarm in his voice was slightly muffled by his heavy mask.

Part II to follow soon.