Thing Including Tarakanov
Aug. 30th, 2019 04:48 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
0denseI just really hope I can keep writing during the semester! But also I was running the office today, soooo we'll see :?
For now, here's what I've got for the Tarakanov wip -
“Boris,” Valery broke through his review of the construction team's latest progress, an odd tone in his voice.
“Hm?”
“Come and look at this, will you?”
Hesitation. Less and less characteristic for the professor, he noted, and looked up.
The window was dirty when he crossed to it, streaked with water lines from countless attempts at decontamination. Through it, Valery pointed at a bus disgorging a load of men in uniform, and Boris could see how new some of them were in their eyes, so wide over tight masks. No one kept that look for long.
“Afternoon shift,” he shrugged. “What about them?”
“That one.” Valery’s finger jabbed at the glass. “And him.”
It took a moment for Boris to realize he meant the same men. “The ones tripping over their feet looking up? They'll get used to it here soon enough.” He swatted at Valery’s hand on the glass, moving back towards his seat. “But don't bother them. First way to keep the new ones uncomfortable, attention from command.”
Valery yanked his hand back and pulled himself away from the window.
“No, that's not what I -.” He swung around to face him. “They're sending us children. Children, Boris,” he pulled his glasses off and rubbed at his eyes in exhaustion.
Nikolai watched him, and looked to Boris as well. “Is he for real?”
Boris sighed. “More than you know. Valery,” he turned to him, “they're conscripts. The soldiers are needed elsewhere.”
“I know they are, the soldiers are, but you saw him too, that boy! He couldn't’ve been twenty if a day.”
“Eighteen, easily,” he said slowly, surprised at Valery’s distress. “And up to fifty or so. I suppose you were at university, instead.”
“But that’s for the military, isn’t it?”
Behind Valery, Nikolai raised his eyebrows, and Boris saw the same incredulity he felt shared across the other man's face.
“It’s a duty to serve, at war or not,” he pointed out, growing frustrated. “Look, how did you think we built the pipeline, then?”
“Honestly?” Valery glared back at him. “You were in Siberia, after all.”
Boris paused, closing his mouth. “Well.”
“Honestly, I had drawn the same conclusion,” Nikolai drawled, and Boris turned to frown at the sudden loss of expected support. “It's a far cry from the sweeping fields of the Ukraine, up there. You do make do.”
“We made,” Boris ground out, “a pipeline that is helping compensate for all four reactors right now. I won't hear that it wasn't worthwhile.”
“I never said it wasn't,” Nikolai held up a hand. “But Siberia is one thing. You and I, we know how large projects work. Our comrade the professor, on the other hand. Where would he get any idea of it, with chalk on his sleeves? Decent people don't expect to see those same sorts of things in country like this.”
Boris looked at Valery from the corner of his eye. Their comrade the professor had red high in his face, self-righteous offense at the young men in uniform giving way to hot embarrassment. It wasn't that Valery was ignorant, he knew. But that was the problem.
“You know. I expect certain things from you,” he began, and Valery nodded, jaw tight.
“Naivete, yes. You did say.”
“No,” he turned to face the professor. “That's not what I mean. You're a smart man, Valery. You know vastly more than I do, here. So every time you run face-first into something I take for granted, it's strange. Feels backwards,” he explained. “But where else do we get so many thousands of men?”
Valery listened, mouth a stubborn line. He didn't answer, and Boris let out a breath, growing impatient.
“You don't like it. Fine. If you started to like what's happening here, then I'd know you'd gone off the rails. But we're not here for anything but getting this finished. Don't start to blame the General or myself for what we all know needs to be done.”
Valery twitched back, as though Boris had gestured to hit him. “What needs to be done,” he repeated, voice hollow.
[insert connection]
Valery stared down at the mask in his hand. Crumpled it in a fist.
“I’m getting some air.”
He crossed the trailer in quick steps, shoving the door open and shutting it smartly behind himself. Boris could as good as see him still, in his mind’s eye, head bowed and shoulders tight for a moment before he remembered the picture he gave the men, and footsteps tramped down the stair and he was gone.
They’d been in each other’s pockets for far too long. He shook his head and turned back in towards the office. Nikolai was still staring at the door.
“I can't tell, for the utter life of me, whether he's the smartest idiot or stupidest genius I've ever heard speak,” he marvelled.
Boris pulled back a chair and sat down heavily at the table. “Believe me, I know what you mean.”
“Oh, I believe you, no doubt about that. And you say he's always been like this?”
“From day one. Do you know what he did, the first time I met him?”
Nikolai shook his head.
“Guess.”
“Told the west that we're working on reparations.”
Boris groaned, dropping his chin and dragging a hand down his face. “No. God, no, I'd forgotten about that.” He looked back up at Nikolai. “I don't know what he's thinking. I tell you, he comes from another planet.”
Nikolai chuckled. “Maybe they appreciate brains, there.”
“Maybe. But still, no. The morning after the accident, in the emergency cabinet meeting. I’d just been called back from the north, and you know who I’d spoken with by then, comrade Dolgikh. Comrade Ryzhkov. And then in wanders this four-eyed twitchy little man, who stands up and interrupts the General-Secretary himself.”
Nikolai let out a low whistle, shaking his head. “The balls on him.”
“When push comes to shove,” Boris had to agree. “And then I threatened to have him thrown out of a helicopter and out onto the core if he tried to give me a hard time, and he still kept my pilot from flying us right over it.”
“You were going to take a look straight in?” Nikolai stared at him. “Who's the legendary fool then, really?”
Boris glared at him, to no avail. Rank had burned that out of Nikolai long ago, he knew.
“Listen,” he defended himself. “If your options are the word of a set of party men who are also professionals in their field, or some little guy raving about minerals from one line of your report, who would you have believed first?”
“Conveniently,” Nikolai shrugged, “that's a question I got to skip. Lucky he kept you from getting you both and the pilot and basically a whole load of us from dying horribly, though.”
For a moment, there was silence again in the mobile office, and Boris reached for the report he was reading through. Valery would adjust, and come back. He’d more than managed to keep up so far.
Nikolai tapped a pen against his own materials, considering something.
“I’ll understand this report better by seeing it than suffering through this writing,” he said abruptly, closing his file. “Boris. Lend me your eyes for a minute.”
Boris grumbled, and Nikolai kicked his leg under the table.
“I’ll walk you through the updates,” he suggested mildly, but Boris saw something else on his face. He was more used to being on the other side of that expression, though, and decided he preferred it that way.
“Fine, then.” He flipped his own report shut and followed the General out.
[scene change]
It took until they approached the rise over the early containment foundations for Nikolai to get to the point.
“You know, though.”
“What do I know, then? You know, this is pretty far to come, if I already know it.”
Nikolai looked at him sideways, unimpressed. “That our professor’s as Party as they come. Alexei himself was in Ideological Compliance, directing it, even.” Nikolai shook his head, stepping around a loose stone in the path. “I’m not denying that he’s smart and well-placed, but that’s not just his own work. Or if he didn’t get anything else from his old man, I’ll scale Masha.”
He turned to Boris as though expecting an answer.
“I do know that, yes,” Boris tried not to snap. “He’s been decorated for good reason, but to advance fast as he did? Everyone starts somewhere.”
“Some higher than others, still,” Tarakanov said evenly, and Boris sighed.
“Yes, still. I'm not pretending it's not true when you already brought us out here. I don't see anything deeply remarkable about it, though.”
“It's not, really. But I wanted to know you knew it too. It's obvious you trust him, and well you should, I agree. I need the lay of the land, though.”
Boris sighed again, shoulders heavy under the hot sun. Nikolai Dmitrievich had been honest and helpful from the first cabinet meetings, putting their men first as much as he could, and without any of the histrionics that occasionally went through the administration. A few minutes was the least Boris owed him. He nodded for Nikolai to go on.
[insert connection or reorder something?]
“So, he started this whole thing off by yelling at the General-Secretary, and you started by wanting him dead.” Nikolai paused. “How did he piss you off that quickly, again?”
Boris shrugged just one shoulder, wondering where this was going and if Nikolai would get to his point in anything like a timely manner. “It was my report he caromed off of.”
“Right,” Nikolai nodded. “And now you’re getting him lunar rovers. That’s quite a turnaround.”
Boris stared at him, and then pointed at the ruined reactor. “You really don’t think that’s not enough of an incentive.”
“On the contrary, I think it’s an excellent incentive. It doesn’t hurt that he’s a good man, and dedicated to the cleanup at all costs.” Nikolai paused. “And I mean all costs.
“I’m working with you here, Boris. We have a job and a responsibility, and I want to do right by it. But to do that, the last thing I need is to run into a roadblock that I didn’t know existed. So.” He raised a hand for shade, squinting a bit against the sun. “Considering this project and his background, specifically, have you agreed to be accountable for him? And if so, what do I need to know not to stick my foot in?”
Boris blinked, impressed by the younger General’s candor. It shouldn’t’ve been any of his business, really, but
[connect or replace portions?]
NT: I'm not asking to tell. But there's contention here, you can't try to downplay it. And I don't want to have to be distracted by your bickering with Silayev or Legasov’s hysterics after clashing with Alexandrov, not to speak of when the two of you are at odds. You're in charge, here, and he knows everything, and when you two fight, I swear I'm going to strangle you both. We don't have time for it. I don't need to worry about you on top of this. So tell me, are you accountable for him? And are you going to act like it?
[OR: recycle old version:]
“So, I knew someone had to step in and keep him from putting his foot fully in his mouth.”
“And that someone’s you? How’s that been working out, then?”
“Well, we’re still here, so I’ll say well enough.”
Nikolai paused.
“When you say step in.”
He fell silent again, and Boris frowned at his evasiveness. “That’s what I said, yes. What about it?”
“Are you,” Nikolai waved a hand around the little office, insinuation sweeping over the phone. “Accountable for him, I mean.”
[scene change, skipping ahead:]
“Boris,” Valery shook his head. “You have the wrong of me. It's not you or Nikolai or even Bryukhanov that I'm blaming. I don't have the time for anger like that, it doesn't do any good now. I look at those boys and the only person I can fairly hold accountable for their being here is myself.”
Boris stared at him. “Valery. You're being an idiot.”
“Really? What happened to how smart I am?”
“You lost that the second you started to blame yourself for trying to fix a disaster you weren't even present for. You think this is your fault?” He grabbed a mask from the tabletop and shook it at him.
“Try again. Don't be stupid.”
[OR:]
“I was wrong, earlier,” Valery said first. “The way I was talking about the boys who’ve been brought here.”
Boris raised his eyebrows, and he went on.
“It’s not that there’s a ‘them’ I can pretend are accountable for what we’re being given to work with, here. Someone has to be signing the mobilisation papers, and someone has to be issuing the summons, and just because I don’t know exactly who it was doesn’t mean I get to pretend it’s their fault, somewhere in Moscow. They’re coming here, and they’re working for us. For once,” he looked up, “a collective really isn’t the answer. I can’t shift the responsibility onto any abstract group of strangers. I can’t try to hide behind shadows.”
[eventually connect to something like:]
“What are you going to do, then?”
Valery pulled his glasses off and rubbed the bridge of his nose.
“I don't know. I don't know,” he repeated himself, helplessly. “To take care of the reactor, we need hands and eyes and, and bodies to do work even robots can't handle.” He shook his head. “And for the rest of the continent to be safe, we have to spend those lives. There's no more room for indignation or decency, not when we're soaking in poison. How I feel about it doesn't matter; my principles,” he dropped his head again. “They don't matter, not here.”
He was silent for a moment, head bowed and breathing uneven. Boris couldn't see his face, and found
himself almost afraid of what might be bare on it. Then Valery cleared his throat and reached for his jacket pocket, pulling out a cigarette. He lit up and started smoking with automatic gestures, eyes unfocused and set somewhere along the horizon.
“You know,” Boris said awkwardly after a minute, “they're not just your principles. What
we're doing is abhorrent, we agree with you.”
“I know,” Valery nodded. “I do. But don't you see, I'm not used to accepting that. I haven't had to see it. So, knowing you've come around to compartmentalizing this, means. Means I see you differently as well.”
Boris blinked. Valery looked out across the city, and went on.
“You're not the man I thought you were, at the beginning of this. You're better than that. But, also.” Valery shook his head, tapping ash off of his end. “What kind of person does it take, to be able to do this?
2) intended outline
Broad outline:
1) Scene: Boris, Valery, and Nikolai in the trailer office.
- Valery expresses shock/distaste at the youngest liquidators
- Boris calls him out for ignorance
- They fight
- Exit Valery
2) Scene: Boris and Nikolai in the trailer office.
- B and N gossip about V’s outspokenness
- N insists they go elsewhere to speak
3) Scene: Boris and Nikolai outside
- N, having observed B and V’s dynamic, inquires as to the nature of their relationship
- B is defensive, but also forced to consider what V means to him
4) Scene: Boris and Valery, somewhere??
- B intends to reconcile with V
-- However, V has become subdued, speaking of individual rather than group accountability
--- Ie, the obverse of ignorance is responsibility
-- implication that he would not be opposed to blaming himself for the liquidators’ fate
--- He’s the one to say bio-robots (although I place this before that event), providing the grand opportunity for guilty feelings
- B feels guilty for pushing V towards self-castigation
- ???
3) citations so far
Legasov thinking the USSR would compensate people impacted by radiation is real tho;
(REUTER). "Soviets may Pay Compensation to East Bloc Allies on Chernobyl." Toronto Star, Jun 11, 1986, pp. A14. ProQuest, doc id 435453671, and oh, Valery.
His views against collective responsibility are inspired by reality as well, although I don’t know exactly when he said as much. I have a suspicion it was in his memoir, but the obituary I found it in didn’t specify:
Dickson, David. "Chernobyl Claims another Victim." Science, vol. 240, no. 4858, 1988, pp. 1402, ProQuest doc id 213540786
““I must share my conviction that responsibility must be in the hands of one man,” wrote Legasov. “Collective responsibility is the incorrect approach,”” he said, and then killed himself. /Oh, Valery/
Shcherbina was the well-known one of them, going into Chernobyl. He was promoted from Minister for Oil and Gas Construction to Deputy Prime Minister following the completion of the Urengoy-Pomary–Uzhhorod pipeline, which does enter Ukraine but whether it played any part in compensating for the loss of the reactor is a total invention on my part. I had to filter ProQuest on my search for him bc the western news was all atwitter about the pipeline running from Siberia out to the west, to the extent that, fun fact, the CIA might’ve been behind an explosion on a similar one in ‘82. Also I’ll admit, I was totally spitballing on what went on in Siberia, and then hm, well.
AP. "Soviet Pipeline Official made Deputy Premier." New York Times, Jan 15, 1984. ProQuest doc id 424856203
Russell, Alec. “CIA plot led to huge blast in Siberian gas pipeline.” The Telegraph, 28 Feb 2004. Web, https://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/worldnews/northamerica/usa/1455559/CIA-plot-led-to-huge-blast-in-Siberian-gas-pipeline.html
NA. “Human-rights consequences of the proposed trans-Siberian natural gas pipeline. Hearing before the Subcommittee on International Finance and Monetary Policy of the Committee on Banking, Housing, and Urban Affairs, United States, Senate, Ninety-Seventh Congress, Second Session, June 18, 1982.” United States: N. p., 1982. Web. OSTI doc id 6209167
4) writing process thoughts and struggles
This was initiated back when I had to do a massive double take at Pavel's age, because fuck me, 23 years old. I know draft is always a bad time, whatever the conflict or nation, I know it. But Pavel's place in this story was to be an innocent subjected to trauma and hey, it worked, I'm super sad. So that got the ball rolling.
The other thing I'm grappling with here is how unbelievable Valery is. A grown-ass professionally ambitious man who doesn't know how his world works? Pull the other one, it's got bells on. But again I suppose, he's got a narrative utility, like that: Show!Valery is an awkward loner who demonstrates the hypocrisy of the system by viewing it from an analytic angle. It's not realistic, but the story comes first, this time. So, I was interested in how his personal preferences and background would clash with the more practical outlook Boris knows.
I suppose I’m flanderizing him here, to no small extent. The level of ignorance is almost daft. I suppose he could be simply shocked by seeing such young men in this setting, but he’s still very out of touch. My hope is to move him from this semi-willful ignorance towards the sense of personal accountability that he argued for later in life. My fear is that he sounds abjectly stupid, and that I'm preachy.
But also, Tarakanov is here! If I’m harping on the narrative tool ‘newcomer points out issues in status quo,’ that’s exactly his job as well. Valery and Boris are fighting right this second, but they also have a strong relationship that Nikolai’s reading under the surface tension. He’s welcome, but doesn’t share any of their dynamic, and /exactly what is going on between them?/ he’s wondering.
However, it’s none of his business, isn’t it. I’m having a very hard time justifying the conversation. Like, I’m lowkey convinced that Boris was set up as the counterweight to Valery, in the same way Valery was for Ulana (spoilers for the Maxim Charkov story if I get around to it lol); their ot3 name in my mind is Accountability. But why on earth would Nikolai pry into that? I first sketched that conversation in the trailer office before realising discussing someone’s place under a surveillance system, should not be carried out under the same surveillance. But moving them somewhere more private doesn’t suddenly give it a justification. The fact that I, as the author, /want/ him to ask Boris if he’s accountable for Valery isn’t enough. So that falls apart.
My hope is that Tarakanov’s inquiring might prompt Boris to reevaluate his relationship to Valery, and try to be more compassionate. I guess I’m not quite in romantic waters at this point, but there’s still certainly a kind of love between them, and maybe Boris could start to take that more seriously. My fear is that the conversation is contrived.
The general theme I think I’m going for here is that all three of them are coming to understand one another better. Also, Valery’s mental state isn’t great.
I see this as taking place before the Bio-Robots conversation. Perhaps after Joker, to contribute to Boris’ ire.
If someone's interested in picking up where I've left off, by all means drop me a line! Or for characterization or concrit and things - I've been pretty busy lately, but I'm still very much invested in this fandom ;D hmu!
For now, here's what I've got for the Tarakanov wip -
They’d been in each other’s pockets for far too long. He shook his head and turned back in towards the office. Nikolai was still staring at the door.
“I can't tell, for the utter life of me, whether he's the smartest idiot or stupidest genius I've ever heard speak,” he marvelled.
Boris pulled back a chair and sat down heavily at the table. “Believe me, I know what you mean.”
Boris pulled back a chair and sat down heavily at the table. “Believe me, I know what you mean.”
“Oh, I believe you, no doubt about that. And you say he's always been like this?”
“From day one. Do you know what he did, the first time I met him?”
Nikolai shook his head.
“Guess.”
“Told the west that we're working on reparations.”
Boris groaned, dropping his chin and dragging a hand down his face. “No. God, no, I'd forgotten about that.”
1) fulltext of the wip: “Boris,” Valery broke through his review of the construction team's latest progress, an odd tone in his voice.
“Hm?”
“Come and look at this, will you?”
Hesitation. Less and less characteristic for the professor, he noted, and looked up.
The window was dirty when he crossed to it, streaked with water lines from countless attempts at decontamination. Through it, Valery pointed at a bus disgorging a load of men in uniform, and Boris could see how new some of them were in their eyes, so wide over tight masks. No one kept that look for long.
“Afternoon shift,” he shrugged. “What about them?”
“That one.” Valery’s finger jabbed at the glass. “And him.”
It took a moment for Boris to realize he meant the same men. “The ones tripping over their feet looking up? They'll get used to it here soon enough.” He swatted at Valery’s hand on the glass, moving back towards his seat. “But don't bother them. First way to keep the new ones uncomfortable, attention from command.”
Valery yanked his hand back and pulled himself away from the window.
“No, that's not what I -.” He swung around to face him. “They're sending us children. Children, Boris,” he pulled his glasses off and rubbed at his eyes in exhaustion.
Nikolai watched him, and looked to Boris as well. “Is he for real?”
Boris sighed. “More than you know. Valery,” he turned to him, “they're conscripts. The soldiers are needed elsewhere.”
“I know they are, the soldiers are, but you saw him too, that boy! He couldn't’ve been twenty if a day.”
“Eighteen, easily,” he said slowly, surprised at Valery’s distress. “And up to fifty or so. I suppose you were at university, instead.”
“But that’s for the military, isn’t it?”
Behind Valery, Nikolai raised his eyebrows, and Boris saw the same incredulity he felt shared across the other man's face.
“It’s a duty to serve, at war or not,” he pointed out, growing frustrated. “Look, how did you think we built the pipeline, then?”
“Honestly?” Valery glared back at him. “You were in Siberia, after all.”
Boris paused, closing his mouth. “Well.”
“Honestly, I had drawn the same conclusion,” Nikolai drawled, and Boris turned to frown at the sudden loss of expected support. “It's a far cry from the sweeping fields of the Ukraine, up there. You do make do.”
“We made,” Boris ground out, “a pipeline that is helping compensate for all four reactors right now. I won't hear that it wasn't worthwhile.”
“I never said it wasn't,” Nikolai held up a hand. “But Siberia is one thing. You and I, we know how large projects work. Our comrade the professor, on the other hand. Where would he get any idea of it, with chalk on his sleeves? Decent people don't expect to see those same sorts of things in country like this.”
Boris looked at Valery from the corner of his eye. Their comrade the professor had red high in his face, self-righteous offense at the young men in uniform giving way to hot embarrassment. It wasn't that Valery was ignorant, he knew. But that was the problem.
“You know. I expect certain things from you,” he began, and Valery nodded, jaw tight.
“Naivete, yes. You did say.”
“No,” he turned to face the professor. “That's not what I mean. You're a smart man, Valery. You know vastly more than I do, here. So every time you run face-first into something I take for granted, it's strange. Feels backwards,” he explained. “But where else do we get so many thousands of men?”
Valery listened, mouth a stubborn line. He didn't answer, and Boris let out a breath, growing impatient.
“You don't like it. Fine. If you started to like what's happening here, then I'd know you'd gone off the rails. But we're not here for anything but getting this finished. Don't start to blame the General or myself for what we all know needs to be done.”
Valery twitched back, as though Boris had gestured to hit him. “What needs to be done,” he repeated, voice hollow.
[insert connection]
Valery stared down at the mask in his hand. Crumpled it in a fist.
“I’m getting some air.”
He crossed the trailer in quick steps, shoving the door open and shutting it smartly behind himself. Boris could as good as see him still, in his mind’s eye, head bowed and shoulders tight for a moment before he remembered the picture he gave the men, and footsteps tramped down the stair and he was gone.
They’d been in each other’s pockets for far too long. He shook his head and turned back in towards the office. Nikolai was still staring at the door.
“I can't tell, for the utter life of me, whether he's the smartest idiot or stupidest genius I've ever heard speak,” he marvelled.
Boris pulled back a chair and sat down heavily at the table. “Believe me, I know what you mean.”
“Oh, I believe you, no doubt about that. And you say he's always been like this?”
“From day one. Do you know what he did, the first time I met him?”
Nikolai shook his head.
“Guess.”
“Told the west that we're working on reparations.”
Boris groaned, dropping his chin and dragging a hand down his face. “No. God, no, I'd forgotten about that.” He looked back up at Nikolai. “I don't know what he's thinking. I tell you, he comes from another planet.”
Nikolai chuckled. “Maybe they appreciate brains, there.”
“Maybe. But still, no. The morning after the accident, in the emergency cabinet meeting. I’d just been called back from the north, and you know who I’d spoken with by then, comrade Dolgikh. Comrade Ryzhkov. And then in wanders this four-eyed twitchy little man, who stands up and interrupts the General-Secretary himself.”
Nikolai let out a low whistle, shaking his head. “The balls on him.”
“When push comes to shove,” Boris had to agree. “And then I threatened to have him thrown out of a helicopter and out onto the core if he tried to give me a hard time, and he still kept my pilot from flying us right over it.”
“You were going to take a look straight in?” Nikolai stared at him. “Who's the legendary fool then, really?”
Boris glared at him, to no avail. Rank had burned that out of Nikolai long ago, he knew.
“Listen,” he defended himself. “If your options are the word of a set of party men who are also professionals in their field, or some little guy raving about minerals from one line of your report, who would you have believed first?”
“Conveniently,” Nikolai shrugged, “that's a question I got to skip. Lucky he kept you from getting you both and the pilot and basically a whole load of us from dying horribly, though.”
For a moment, there was silence again in the mobile office, and Boris reached for the report he was reading through. Valery would adjust, and come back. He’d more than managed to keep up so far.
Nikolai tapped a pen against his own materials, considering something.
“I’ll understand this report better by seeing it than suffering through this writing,” he said abruptly, closing his file. “Boris. Lend me your eyes for a minute.”
Boris grumbled, and Nikolai kicked his leg under the table.
“I’ll walk you through the updates,” he suggested mildly, but Boris saw something else on his face. He was more used to being on the other side of that expression, though, and decided he preferred it that way.
“Fine, then.” He flipped his own report shut and followed the General out.
[scene change]
It took until they approached the rise over the early containment foundations for Nikolai to get to the point.
“You know, though.”
“What do I know, then? You know, this is pretty far to come, if I already know it.”
Nikolai looked at him sideways, unimpressed. “That our professor’s as Party as they come. Alexei himself was in Ideological Compliance, directing it, even.” Nikolai shook his head, stepping around a loose stone in the path. “I’m not denying that he’s smart and well-placed, but that’s not just his own work. Or if he didn’t get anything else from his old man, I’ll scale Masha.”
He turned to Boris as though expecting an answer.
“I do know that, yes,” Boris tried not to snap. “He’s been decorated for good reason, but to advance fast as he did? Everyone starts somewhere.”
“Some higher than others, still,” Tarakanov said evenly, and Boris sighed.
“Yes, still. I'm not pretending it's not true when you already brought us out here. I don't see anything deeply remarkable about it, though.”
“It's not, really. But I wanted to know you knew it too. It's obvious you trust him, and well you should, I agree. I need the lay of the land, though.”
Boris sighed again, shoulders heavy under the hot sun. Nikolai Dmitrievich had been honest and helpful from the first cabinet meetings, putting their men first as much as he could, and without any of the histrionics that occasionally went through the administration. A few minutes was the least Boris owed him. He nodded for Nikolai to go on.
[insert connection or reorder something?]
“So, he started this whole thing off by yelling at the General-Secretary, and you started by wanting him dead.” Nikolai paused. “How did he piss you off that quickly, again?”
Boris shrugged just one shoulder, wondering where this was going and if Nikolai would get to his point in anything like a timely manner. “It was my report he caromed off of.”
“Right,” Nikolai nodded. “And now you’re getting him lunar rovers. That’s quite a turnaround.”
Boris stared at him, and then pointed at the ruined reactor. “You really don’t think that’s not enough of an incentive.”
“On the contrary, I think it’s an excellent incentive. It doesn’t hurt that he’s a good man, and dedicated to the cleanup at all costs.” Nikolai paused. “And I mean all costs.
“I’m working with you here, Boris. We have a job and a responsibility, and I want to do right by it. But to do that, the last thing I need is to run into a roadblock that I didn’t know existed. So.” He raised a hand for shade, squinting a bit against the sun. “Considering this project and his background, specifically, have you agreed to be accountable for him? And if so, what do I need to know not to stick my foot in?”
Boris blinked, impressed by the younger General’s candor. It shouldn’t’ve been any of his business, really, but
[connect or replace portions?]
NT: I'm not asking to tell. But there's contention here, you can't try to downplay it. And I don't want to have to be distracted by your bickering with Silayev or Legasov’s hysterics after clashing with Alexandrov, not to speak of when the two of you are at odds. You're in charge, here, and he knows everything, and when you two fight, I swear I'm going to strangle you both. We don't have time for it. I don't need to worry about you on top of this. So tell me, are you accountable for him? And are you going to act like it?
[OR: recycle old version:]
“So, I knew someone had to step in and keep him from putting his foot fully in his mouth.”
“And that someone’s you? How’s that been working out, then?”
“Well, we’re still here, so I’ll say well enough.”
Nikolai paused.
“When you say step in.”
He fell silent again, and Boris frowned at his evasiveness. “That’s what I said, yes. What about it?”
“Are you,” Nikolai waved a hand around the little office, insinuation sweeping over the phone. “Accountable for him, I mean.”
[scene change, skipping ahead:]
“Boris,” Valery shook his head. “You have the wrong of me. It's not you or Nikolai or even Bryukhanov that I'm blaming. I don't have the time for anger like that, it doesn't do any good now. I look at those boys and the only person I can fairly hold accountable for their being here is myself.”
Boris stared at him. “Valery. You're being an idiot.”
“Really? What happened to how smart I am?”
“You lost that the second you started to blame yourself for trying to fix a disaster you weren't even present for. You think this is your fault?” He grabbed a mask from the tabletop and shook it at him.
“Try again. Don't be stupid.”
[OR:]
“I was wrong, earlier,” Valery said first. “The way I was talking about the boys who’ve been brought here.”
Boris raised his eyebrows, and he went on.
“It’s not that there’s a ‘them’ I can pretend are accountable for what we’re being given to work with, here. Someone has to be signing the mobilisation papers, and someone has to be issuing the summons, and just because I don’t know exactly who it was doesn’t mean I get to pretend it’s their fault, somewhere in Moscow. They’re coming here, and they’re working for us. For once,” he looked up, “a collective really isn’t the answer. I can’t shift the responsibility onto any abstract group of strangers. I can’t try to hide behind shadows.”
[eventually connect to something like:]
“What are you going to do, then?”
Valery pulled his glasses off and rubbed the bridge of his nose.
“I don't know. I don't know,” he repeated himself, helplessly. “To take care of the reactor, we need hands and eyes and, and bodies to do work even robots can't handle.” He shook his head. “And for the rest of the continent to be safe, we have to spend those lives. There's no more room for indignation or decency, not when we're soaking in poison. How I feel about it doesn't matter; my principles,” he dropped his head again. “They don't matter, not here.”
He was silent for a moment, head bowed and breathing uneven. Boris couldn't see his face, and found
himself almost afraid of what might be bare on it. Then Valery cleared his throat and reached for his jacket pocket, pulling out a cigarette. He lit up and started smoking with automatic gestures, eyes unfocused and set somewhere along the horizon.
“You know,” Boris said awkwardly after a minute, “they're not just your principles. What
we're doing is abhorrent, we agree with you.”
“I know,” Valery nodded. “I do. But don't you see, I'm not used to accepting that. I haven't had to see it. So, knowing you've come around to compartmentalizing this, means. Means I see you differently as well.”
Boris blinked. Valery looked out across the city, and went on.
“You're not the man I thought you were, at the beginning of this. You're better than that. But, also.” Valery shook his head, tapping ash off of his end. “What kind of person does it take, to be able to do this?
2) intended outline
Broad outline:
1) Scene: Boris, Valery, and Nikolai in the trailer office.
- Valery expresses shock/distaste at the youngest liquidators
- Boris calls him out for ignorance
- They fight
- Exit Valery
2) Scene: Boris and Nikolai in the trailer office.
- B and N gossip about V’s outspokenness
- N insists they go elsewhere to speak
3) Scene: Boris and Nikolai outside
- N, having observed B and V’s dynamic, inquires as to the nature of their relationship
- B is defensive, but also forced to consider what V means to him
4) Scene: Boris and Valery, somewhere??
- B intends to reconcile with V
-- However, V has become subdued, speaking of individual rather than group accountability
--- Ie, the obverse of ignorance is responsibility
-- implication that he would not be opposed to blaming himself for the liquidators’ fate
--- He’s the one to say bio-robots (although I place this before that event), providing the grand opportunity for guilty feelings
- B feels guilty for pushing V towards self-castigation
- ???
3) citations so far
Legasov thinking the USSR would compensate people impacted by radiation is real tho;
(REUTER). "Soviets may Pay Compensation to East Bloc Allies on Chernobyl." Toronto Star, Jun 11, 1986, pp. A14. ProQuest, doc id 435453671, and oh, Valery.
His views against collective responsibility are inspired by reality as well, although I don’t know exactly when he said as much. I have a suspicion it was in his memoir, but the obituary I found it in didn’t specify:
Dickson, David. "Chernobyl Claims another Victim." Science, vol. 240, no. 4858, 1988, pp. 1402, ProQuest doc id 213540786
““I must share my conviction that responsibility must be in the hands of one man,” wrote Legasov. “Collective responsibility is the incorrect approach,”” he said, and then killed himself. /Oh, Valery/
Shcherbina was the well-known one of them, going into Chernobyl. He was promoted from Minister for Oil and Gas Construction to Deputy Prime Minister following the completion of the Urengoy-Pomary–Uzhhorod pipeline, which does enter Ukraine but whether it played any part in compensating for the loss of the reactor is a total invention on my part. I had to filter ProQuest on my search for him bc the western news was all atwitter about the pipeline running from Siberia out to the west, to the extent that, fun fact, the CIA might’ve been behind an explosion on a similar one in ‘82. Also I’ll admit, I was totally spitballing on what went on in Siberia, and then hm, well.
AP. "Soviet Pipeline Official made Deputy Premier." New York Times, Jan 15, 1984. ProQuest doc id 424856203
Russell, Alec. “CIA plot led to huge blast in Siberian gas pipeline.” The Telegraph, 28 Feb 2004. Web, https://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/worldnews/northamerica/usa/1455559/CIA-plot-led-to-huge-blast-in-Siberian-gas-pipeline.html
NA. “Human-rights consequences of the proposed trans-Siberian natural gas pipeline. Hearing before the Subcommittee on International Finance and Monetary Policy of the Committee on Banking, Housing, and Urban Affairs, United States, Senate, Ninety-Seventh Congress, Second Session, June 18, 1982.” United States: N. p., 1982. Web. OSTI doc id 6209167
4) writing process thoughts and struggles
This was initiated back when I had to do a massive double take at Pavel's age, because fuck me, 23 years old. I know draft is always a bad time, whatever the conflict or nation, I know it. But Pavel's place in this story was to be an innocent subjected to trauma and hey, it worked, I'm super sad. So that got the ball rolling.
The other thing I'm grappling with here is how unbelievable Valery is. A grown-ass professionally ambitious man who doesn't know how his world works? Pull the other one, it's got bells on. But again I suppose, he's got a narrative utility, like that: Show!Valery is an awkward loner who demonstrates the hypocrisy of the system by viewing it from an analytic angle. It's not realistic, but the story comes first, this time. So, I was interested in how his personal preferences and background would clash with the more practical outlook Boris knows.
I suppose I’m flanderizing him here, to no small extent. The level of ignorance is almost daft. I suppose he could be simply shocked by seeing such young men in this setting, but he’s still very out of touch. My hope is to move him from this semi-willful ignorance towards the sense of personal accountability that he argued for later in life. My fear is that he sounds abjectly stupid, and that I'm preachy.
But also, Tarakanov is here! If I’m harping on the narrative tool ‘newcomer points out issues in status quo,’ that’s exactly his job as well. Valery and Boris are fighting right this second, but they also have a strong relationship that Nikolai’s reading under the surface tension. He’s welcome, but doesn’t share any of their dynamic, and /exactly what is going on between them?/ he’s wondering.
However, it’s none of his business, isn’t it. I’m having a very hard time justifying the conversation. Like, I’m lowkey convinced that Boris was set up as the counterweight to Valery, in the same way Valery was for Ulana (spoilers for the Maxim Charkov story if I get around to it lol); their ot3 name in my mind is Accountability. But why on earth would Nikolai pry into that? I first sketched that conversation in the trailer office before realising discussing someone’s place under a surveillance system, should not be carried out under the same surveillance. But moving them somewhere more private doesn’t suddenly give it a justification. The fact that I, as the author, /want/ him to ask Boris if he’s accountable for Valery isn’t enough. So that falls apart.
My hope is that Tarakanov’s inquiring might prompt Boris to reevaluate his relationship to Valery, and try to be more compassionate. I guess I’m not quite in romantic waters at this point, but there’s still certainly a kind of love between them, and maybe Boris could start to take that more seriously. My fear is that the conversation is contrived.
The general theme I think I’m going for here is that all three of them are coming to understand one another better. Also, Valery’s mental state isn’t great.
I see this as taking place before the Bio-Robots conversation. Perhaps after Joker, to contribute to Boris’ ire.
If someone's interested in picking up where I've left off, by all means drop me a line! Or for characterization or concrit and things - I've been pretty busy lately, but I'm still very much invested in this fandom ;D hmu!
no subject
Date: 2019-09-07 04:12 am (UTC)Nikolai: How long have you been sleeping with Boris?
Valery: That’s disgusting. And wrong. I don’t even get– why would– I’ve never had sex with anyone, anywhere. It’s none of your- you have- the nerve, the audacity, Ben is my boss, technically. And he is terrible, face-wise. And how- how- do I know, frankly, that you’re not sleeping with him? Maybe you are. Maybe you’re trying to throw me off? Hmm check and mate.
I'm so glad other people think there's something to this! I'll def keep working on it :D!