Epione laughed. “That is what makes you such a darling. All these other men, they are so afraid of being blunt, especially with me, but not my gladiator Falco. He says what he thinks, no matter what the consequences might be.”
“Things cannot be worse for me,” Falco observed.
“Things can always get worse,” Epione said. “You need more wine, I do, too.” She signaled for him to get the jug.
Falco was already light-headed from the potent fine wine, nothing at all like the slop served at the gladiator school. As he poured, he considered the noblewoman lounging in front of him. She was older than he, in her mid-forties. Why she had chosen him to be her toy, he didn’t know, and he regretted that she had ever laid eyes on him.
He had been with her once before he went into the army, and she had been waiting when he came back. That one time, as a slave, he could not refuse her, and he had never told Drusilla about it, although he knew that she knew something had happened. But they had both spent their lives in captivity and accepted, in the way those with no choice did, the things their lowly fate bound them to. The mistake he had made was using his special power of sense to please her, hoping that by doing so he might earn a powerful ally, which every slave could use. He had performed too well, he knew in retrospect.
He had certainly never expected Epione to do what she had done after Drusilla died while he was in Palestine. Phaedra and Fabron were the only things he had to come back to, and she had taken them away.
“Actually, my gladiator, I do not totally lie,” Epione said as he handed her a full chalice of wine.
Falco sat and waited.
‘I will not free them. I am not done with you yet.”
“When will you be?”
She laughed and took a drink. “I don’t know. When it strikes me to. They have not earned their freedom like you did.”
“What was not a lie then?”
“I may let you see them. I think you think I lie about them. That maybe they died also with the fever as did your dear Drusilla, who you constantly mope over.”
Falco had indeed considered that possibility, but he had not dared take the gamble that she did lie. Plus, sometimes he had visions of them, but he was never certain if he could trust those visions. “Where are they?”
“Pompeii. With a trusted friend of mine.”
Falco felt a fist thud into his heart.
“I will allow you to travel there the day after tomorrow when you are done with the games. You will meet your spawn. And then you will come back here and continue to serve me.”
Two days. Falco remembered the vision he had had. Of Vesuvius. If there were gods who determined such things, would they control the fury of the mountain for two more days?
Epione lay back on her couch. “Now, more wine, my gladiator.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Pytor and Felix Shashenka saw the cooling towers first as the helicopter approached the Chernobyl Reactor. Three were intact, one was covered in a sarcophagus of concrete. This was not their first trip here. They had come many times before to pay their respects to their brother’s tomb, the mass of concrete enclosing Reactor Four.
Today was different in one important aspect. They were here to conduct a mission. The twins were both officers in the Russian Army, both serving the elite Spetsnatz commandos, and both had volunteered for this mission. But it was Pytor who had the cancer, and thus it was Pytor who would go.
The helicopter landed next to Reactor Three, which was still in operation along with the other two. Pytor and Felix got off, each carrying a heavy backpack. Several soldiers were waiting for them, also Spetsnatz and heavily armed.
“This way,” the major in charge of the security detail indicated. They followed as he approached the massive edifice of concrete that covered Reactor Four. Two soldiers flanked a steel door, which the major opened with great effort. They were in a tunnel that had been bored into the concrete. The corridor went ten meter, then ended in a room protected with lead shielding. Numerous video monitors lined one wall. Pytor and Felix put the packs down and went to the monitors. This monitoring station was highly classified and had never been shown to many foreigners who came to the area to check levels of radioactivity.
“That’s the core,” the major said. “We had to send in a remote-controlled robot to put the camera in place.”
But both brothers were looking at a different monitor, the one featuring the remains of the control room. There were several skeletons littering the floor.
“They died instantly, the gas burning the flesh from their bones,” the major said. “Better fate than the ones who got a fatal dose and died the slow death.”
Pytor and Felix knew one of those skeletons was Andrej. And they knew everything the major was telling them as Pytor had been the commander of the first group to watch the reactor. There was little doubt in both their minds that is when the cancer started. Even though the control room was heavily shielded, the entire area was still a dangerous place.
“The orders I received-” the major began.
“Yes?’ Pytor asked. He was now looking at the core. The black triangle was still there, as it had been since that fateful day in 1986.
“Well, they said one of you was going in. Of course that must be wrong, is that not so?” The major was stumbling over his words.
‘No, the orders are quite correct,” Pytor said. He went over to one of the packs and opened it. He began pulling out pieces of a radiation suit.
“But it’s hot in there. Even with that on, you’ll get a fatal dose inside of a minute. No one’s been in there since the explosion.”
“I know that,” Pytor said as he began pulling on the suit, Felix helping. “Have you picked up anything new in the monitoring?”
“There were some scientists here from the Academy of Sciences,” the major said. “They picked up indications of time fluxes coming out of the triangle.”
“Time fluxes?” For the first time Pytor was surprised. “How do they know that?”
“The time indicator on the video cameras shifts about. Sometimes running backward, sometimes making jumps.” The major pointed at the monitor. “Whatever you have to do in there, why not use a robot?”
“There is not time to rig such a thing for what we want to do,” Pytor said. “Perhaps I should take my anti-radiation pill?” he added, referring to the placebo tablets that used to be issued to all Russians soldiers with the instructions that if taken, they would protect them from radiation. He pulled out the helmet and set it on his head.
Felix picked up the second backpack and put it on Pytor’s shoulders.
“Where is the new access point?” Felix asked.
The major pointed to a steel door on the side of the chamber. “You go through there. Down a corridor fifty meters, then it turns left to another door. That door leads to the air chamber. You hit the red button. When it turns green, you go in. Then you reverse the process to come out, but-” the major fell silent. They all knew that once someone went inside, they could never come out. Even the remote robots that had been used over the years had to be left inside. That was why there were none to use now. Also, the probe was too large for the small robots they had in inventory.
Felix gave his brother a hand as they went to the indicated door.
“Good luck,” the major offered.
Pytor could hear his breathing inside the enclosed helmet. Sweat was already running down his back, and he knew it would get hotter. He almost laughed aloud at that thought: hotter. Soon he was going to be very hot indeed. The pack was heavy, and he had lost much strength in the last several months from the chemotherapy treatments. The doctors had given him two months at best, and they promised to be a very painful two months. Because of that, Pytor was actually grateful to be able to do this mission, to die doing something positive rather than wasting away in a hospital bed.