All at once
Eugene Rakhmanov

© Eugene Rakhmanov, 2025

ISBN 978-5-0067-6478-1

Created with Ridero smart publishing system

All characters, names, patronymics, surnames, locations, street names, firms, organizations, enterprises, companies, and events described in this book are fictional. Any resemblance to historical events or real people – living or deceased – is purely coincidental.

“Welcome to Krasnosibirsk”

Krasnosibirsk-6.

A small, closed city. High fences topped with barbed wire encircle its perimeter.

Watchtowers manned by armed soldiers of the USSR KGB Border Troops.

The city is strictly classified. Not marked on any maps.

Entry and exit permitted only with special passes.

Population: 19,369.

Core enterprise: Timber Processing Plant.

Logging, woodworking, and pulp/paper production.

The city’s top-secret facility: the V.I. Lenin State Institute of Nuclear Physics.

The city is guarded and supervised by a division of the USSR KGB.

08:00, December 3, 1983

In the auditorium of the V.I. Lenin State Institute of Nuclear Physics, all employees had gathered. They looked exhausted and drained. They yawned, rubbing their reddened eyes with their hands. Each fought sleep as best they could…

The hall was dimly lit, except for the bright lights above the stage. Scientists kept glancing back at the entrance door.

The wait weighed heavily on them…

After a while, confident, loud footsteps shattered the sleepy silence…

A stately, silver-haired elderly man in a white lab coat and glasses stepped onto the small stage. Professor, Theoretical Physicist Eduard Yuryevich Volynitsky.

He scanned the hall and smiled awkwardly. Clearly, he was deeply nervous. The professor wiped sweat from his forehead with a handkerchief. He smiled again, sighed heavily, and began his speech:

– Good morning, comrades! Today…

He stopped abruptly. Swallowed. Anxiety had dried his throat. He cleared his throat, dabbed his forehead, and continued:

– Today, December 3, 1983, at exactly 20:00, we will make our country even greater! Today, we will inscribe our names in the history of our nation’s glorious victories! Remember this day, colleagues. We’ve worked toward it for many years. As for me… I’ve devoted my entire life to it!

The professor removed his glasses, wiped them with his handkerchief, then his forehead, and continued:

– Today, we begin testing the High-Energy Electromagnetic Particle Accelerator, codename Taiga-6. This device will allow us to study – and later control – so-called dark matter… Dark energy! We will be the first in the world to achieve this! By mastering dark matter, we will enter a new era of achievements and inventions. An era of progress! For 15 years, I’ve studied classified materials provided to me from the KGB archives. They became the foundation for the accelerator’s invention. Success didn’t come easily… But as Comrade Stalin said:

– There are no fortresses the Bolsheviks cannot storm! And we’ve conquered this fortress! In my work, I was greatly aided by my close friend and colleague Pavel Konstantinovich Yushkov.

The professor gestured toward a forty-year-old man sitting in the hall, listening spellbound:

– When I was on the verge of despair… when I thought nothing would work… I turned to him. He is one of our country’s most respected and brilliant nuclear physicists! As they say, two heads are better than one! My experience and Pavel Konstantinovich’s unconventional thinking helped us find the solution. It took us five long years… Five long years! Following our blueprints, the finest minds of our great nation assembled the accelerator. And now, our government has entrusted all of us to test this device! This is a tremendous responsibility!

Enormous! You are the best specialists in your fields. Out of hundreds of applicants, you were chosen! You are the best! I’ll never tire of repeating it. They believe in us! And we have no room for error! We will do our job! We will succeed!

Approving shouts erupted in the hall. Everyone was in high spirits. They nodded in agreement and applauded.

– Some of you may think, – the professor continued, – that our government deliberately chose this city because it’s far from Moscow. To avoid endangering themselves! In case the tests fail for some inexplicable reason. That’s not true! I assure you! The accelerator is absolutely safe! This city wasn’t chosen randomly…

It’s surrounded by dense, impassable taiga. The city is well-guarded by KGB personnel. It’s classified! Not on any maps!

It’s the perfect place for our accelerator! For its testing and future operation. So, no need for false panic or rumors. Everything’s fine!

A light murmur swept through the hall…

The professor wiped his forehead again and continued:

– We’ve worked together for a full year! In this wonderful city! Adjusting the accelerator’s settings, calibrating all parameters… Countless hours spent assembling it here at the institute. And by the way… it was designed *specifically* for us! Built day and night for three years! Around the city, tunnels were dug 30 meters deep to house the accelerator’s dipole magnets. Imagine that – encircling the entire city! It was complex, titanic labor! A deep bow to our Soviet builders, engineers, and technicians! To everyone who contributed to this vital project for our nation!

Applause broke out again…

– My friends, I know you’re exhausted! We’ve been awake for 24 hours, conducting final calibrations… But allow me to share the accelerator’s origin story. Until today, it was a secret… I’ll tell you… and then you can finally rest… until 19:00.

So…

On January 7, 1943, Serbian-American scientist and inventor Nikola Tesla was found dead in his hotel room. After his death, U.S. intelligence agencies stole his technical documents, manuscripts, and blueprints. Among them was a black notebook… This very notebook was obtained by a sergeant of the USSR NKVD state security during a covert operation… at the cost of his own life! He was gravely wounded and died in the hospital. Unfortunately, information about him remains classified! We cannot properly honor the hero. But… we still say thank you for his bravery!

That black notebook was delivered directly to the General Secretary of the Communist Party of the Soviet Union, Joseph Vissarionovich Stalin. After thorough study, it was stamped “Top Secret” and archived by the KGB.

It was materials from this notebook that formed the basis for inventing the electromagnetic accelerator. Refined and perfected by me and my comrade, Pavel Konstantinovich Yushkov. This is our victory! Victory over the capitalist West and all enemies of our great nation! Tonight, we test the accelerator. And we’ll show the world that the USSR has always been – and will always be – first in everything!

The hall exploded in thunderous, prolonged applause.

At the Same Time
08:00, December 3, 1983
Apartment of Andrei Maltsev

– Andrei, get up, we’re leaving! – Lyuba shouted to her husband, closing the front door behind her. He opened one eye, barely mustering a reply, but the door slammed shut… Squinting against the bright sunlight from the window, Andrei slowly sat up and swung his legs off the bed. He stretched, yawned, and sat motionless for a few minutes. Finally awake, he stood and shuffled to the bathroom. His wife Lyuba had taken their children, Seryozha and Masha, to school. Then she’d rushed to work. As usual, they were in a hurry… As usual, running late… Andrei’s shift started at 10:00. He *could* have taken the kids to school himself… Helped his wife. Shared responsibilities. But… Lyuba preferred doing everything herself! Not that she didn’t trust her husband… She just did everything better than him! Or so Lyuba believed. And Andrei never argued or contradicted her! He wasn’t henpecked! He simply loved his wife deeply! Andrei was a modest, intellectual man. He loved reading books, learning new things. Loved nature and… quiet. Noisy Moscow depressed him! By chance, he learned that a small carpenter was needed in a closed town deep in the taiga… Andrei accepted the job. Packing his belongings immediately, he left! He and fifty others were escorted by plainclothes KGB officers… Secret city – Andrei understood. It didn’t bother him! It was here he found peace and unity with nature. Here, he met his true love! A woman he fell for at first sight… Lyuba! She became his life’s meaning! Made him the happiest man on earth! Within a month, he proposed…

She gave him two wonderful children. Andrei adored his family! Sadly, work consumed all his time… For his children and wife… he was desperately needed, yet rarely there! Only on weekends could he fully enjoy time with his loved ones! Officially, Andrei was a carpenter. In reality, he was just a loader. Hauled planks onto freight train cars. Afterward, long trains carried them across the vast USSR.

Andrei brushed his teeth, washed up, and headed to the kitchen. Ten minutes later, content, he devoured fried eggs with cracklings. After breakfast, he always approached the tear-off calendar. Ripping off the day’s page, he placed it in the kitchen table drawer. It was his ritual, his hobby! He saved all pages for a full year, then after New Year’s – usually January 1—he’d discard them! And start collecting anew… for the coming year!

– Time for work! – Andrei smiled. He went to his room to dress.

At the Same Time

08:00, December 3, 1983

Office of KGB Border Troops Captain Pyotr Orlov

Pyotr Mikhailovich Orlov was serious, responsible, and punctual. Strict but fair. A patriot! Solidly built, he kept himself battle-ready. He was no darling of fate. A child of war… From earliest childhood, he knew hunger and death… His large brown eyes held so much pain few could withstand his intensely heavy gaze! He rarely smiled. Spoke little. Had almost no friends. People feared him! He had no enemies – for the same reason!

His hair was prematurely white. His heart had no room for tenderness… Once, he’d been happy… made plans, wanted a family, children… Everything collapsed like a house of cards! When the woman he loved more than life left him… Forever! A year ago, his mother died! Orlov was utterly alone! Now, only his work remained… which he did better than anyone!

Years ago, young Pyotr Orlov served his military duty in the border troops… guarding Krasnosibirsk. That’s when he fell in love with this place! Dreamed of returning… Fate granted that chance!

For his dedication and exemplary service, Captain Pyotr Orlov was assigned to the closed city of Krasnosibirsk as company commander. Under him: 60 soldiers, 9 sergeants, 16 officers, and 3 warrant officers.

The company protected the city and its residents, preventing and suppressing crimes and administrative violations. Orlov knew and controlled everything in Krasnosibirsk…

Everything except the V.I. Lenin Institute of Nuclear Physics! Access was restricted to institute personnel only! Whatever happened there was a “Top Secret” mystery.

The phone rang. Captain Orlov picked up:

– Orlov here!

– Comrade Captain, permission to report! Duty Officer Vasilyev! – a crisp, youthful voice came through.

– Permission granted! Report!

– Observation towers one through six: no incidents. Checkpoint of the V.I. Lenin Institute of Nuclear Physics: no incidents! GAI traffic post in the city center: no incidents. At 06:30, patrol detained one intoxicated citizen… Nonviolent! Given a warning and driven home. No other incidents in the city!

– Any requests or complaints from personnel?

– None! – Vasilyev reported.

– Understood! Report anything immediately! You know the drill!

– Yes, Comrade Captain! – Vasilyev replied loudly. – Serving the Soviet Union!

– At ease! – Orlov hung up.

Later That Day
13:35, December 3, 1983
V.I. Lenin State Institute of Nuclear Physics
Office of Professor Eduard Yuryevich Volynitsky

The professor sat at his desk writing. A knock at the door…

– Yes, yes, come in! – he said.

– Eduard Yuryevich, may I? You called? – Pavel Yushkov asked timidly, peeking around the door.

– Pavel Konstantinovich! Pasha! – The professor rose excitedly and hurried to the door. – What are you saying, my friend? I didn’t call… just asked you to drop by. I need your advice! Your support!

– What’s wrong, Eduard Yuryevich? – Pavel tensed.

– Everything’s fine! Just want to discuss something…

– Eduard Yuryevich, you’re so agitated! Don’t confuse me… tell me straight. What happened?

– My friend… Pasha… The issue is, we lack sufficient power for a full-scale accelerator test!

– Phew… – Pavel exhaled, smiling. – Seriously? Eduard Yuryevich, your fears are unfounded! I assure you! Don’t worry so much. I thought something terrible had happened… you scared me!

– Pasha, I’m not joking! Power will be insufficient!

– How do you know? We checked everything, repeatedly!

– Pasha, Pasha, – the professor grew nervous, raising his voice. – Don’t you understand? The accelerator won’t yield results without correct power!

– What are you implying?

– I mean, – the professor stepped closer, whispering. – Pasha, I need your support! Understand?

– Yes…

– Hear me out! I called the center… explained the situation… they approved!

– Approved what?

– Pasha, I know if we run at maximum power… the accelerator will yield unimaginable results! Don’t ask how I know… Just trust me!

– I trust you… – Pavel stepped back, intimidated by the professor’s intensity.

Eduard Yuryevich stepped forward. Gripped Pavel’s shoulders firmly. Staring directly into his eyes, he spoke in a monotone, hypnotic voice:

– Pasha, exactly at 20:00 tonight… The power plant will divert all city electricity to us! For 15 minutes! In that time, we can run the accelerator properly! We’ll achieve what we’ve strived for all these years!

– What? All electricity? Cutting power to the city is a terrible idea! It can’t be done! They won’t allow it…

– They already have! Approved! I just told you…

– Eduard Yuryevich, I must…

– I know what you must do… – the professor interrupted. – As a project curator, you’re obliged to report any plan deviations to the center. To Moscow! But… I already called! Understand? They approved! Understand?

– Not entirely! Why are you speaking like this? What are you hinting at?

– I’m hinting that you shouldn’t call anyone… It’s decided, Pasha! Do you trust me?

The professor squeezed Pavel’s shoulders harder…

– I… – Pavel grew nervous, unsure what to say or do…

– Trust me, Pasha! Fifteen minutes without power won’t hurt anyone. No one will even notice! This is the first major test… It shouldn’t run longer than fifteen minutes anyway! Immense work has been done! So much… time, effort, money spent! We cannot fail! Support me, Pasha!

Pavel knew this was wrong. But… he trusted the professor. Suppressing his doubts, he nodded approval.

– I’ll always support you, Eduard Yuryevich! Do what you think is necessary!

At the Same Time
13:35, December 3, 1983
Cafeteria, Timber Processing Plant

Andrei Maltsev and his workmate Viktor ate lunch in the cafeteria.

– Great soup today! Awesome! – Viktor chewed admiringly.

– Yeah… agreed. – Andrei smiled.

– Glad I asked for seconds. Skipping the main course – better to enjoy the soup. This borscht… – Viktor moaned with pleasure.

– Doesn’t Tamara feed you at home? – Andrei asked.

– She does, – Viktor sighed sadly, – but she… can’t cook! Only here can I eat properly! Andryukha, don’t tell Tamara, okay? She’d kick me out. For such honesty! She’s sensitive!

– Like I’ve nothing better to do? Tell Tamara about you? – Andrei laughed.

– Where will you celebrate New Year? As usual? – Viktor inquired.

– Yeah! Home, with the family!

– Well, if you want, you can come over with Tamara. You know we’re always happy to see you! Chat, drink, watch *Blue Light*.

– Thanks, Vitya. Maybe… but not sure… They’re showing *Charodei* on TV. Our family’s favorite film!

– Charodei? I prefer Railway Station for Two.

– I love that one too. But Charodei is a New Year’s film! Feels festive! Magical… my kids love New Year!

– Got it! – Viktor drawled. – Well, just offering… Come if you want!

– Thanks, Vitya.

– Don’t mention it! Finished eating? Time to load planks! Sadly, they won’t load themselves.

– Yeah, let’s go! – Andrei agreed, finishing his compote.

At the Same Time

13:35, December 3, 1983

Office of KGB Border Troops Captain Pyotr Orlov

Orlov dialed the duty officer. Asked about the city situation… Vasilyev reported all quiet. Orlov hung up, glanced at the wall clock. Stood and unhurriedly left his office.

Lunchtime…

He walked straight down the corridor to the end. The medical unit was there. Headed for years by Klavdia Vasilyevna Shishova. Medical Sciences Candidate, war veteran, Hero of the Soviet Union, retiree, and incidentally, Captain Orlov’s friend. They spent every lunch break together over strong, hot tea. Discussing world affairs… Talking about life… sharing secrets. To Klavdia Vasilyevna, Orlov was like a son! She had no children… so poured all her care into him! Long retired, she still worked. Besides work, she had nothing. Like Captain Orlov. Two lonely souls! They jokingly called themselves that.

– Love your pies, Klavdia Vasilyevna. – Orlov chewed hungrily.

– Petya, at least drink tea! Eating dry like that! – Klavdia Vasilyevna smiled. – Only eating cabbage ones! Take some liver ones, with onion and egg… take them, don’t be shy!

– Thanks! You working New Year’s again?

– Yes! Like you!

They smiled…

– Klavdia Vasilyevna, will you make your signature salad for New Year’s?

– Of course! Where would I go… You love it!

– I do! Remind me of the ingredients, please. Keep meaning to make it at home. Never get around to it.

– Oh, it’s simple… Boiled eggs, canned seaweed, sausage – any kind, doesn’t matter. Onion, herbs to taste. Salt, pepper, also to taste. That’s it! Oh… dress with sunflower oil or mayo. Also flexible. Depends on preference.

– Got it! – Orlov said thoughtfully.

– What’s wrong, Petya?

– Hmm? Oh… Just remembered…

– Remembered what? Tell me.

– During the war… we lived with my aunt near Moscow. Food was scarce in the city, easier in the village. Mom often made stew… Chopped three or four onions into the pot. For flavor, she’d add a piece of salted pork fat. How delicious that stew seemed then…

His eyes moistened. Orlov turned away, wiping them with his hand.

– Sometimes I make that stew, – he whispered, staring into space. – It evokes strange feelings… Like remembering childhood, Mom young… Alive! But in reality… it ends with heartache! So intense it’s hard to breathe! Memory’s a strange thing… joy and pain fused. And it’s just stew… just onions and water… Damned war!

Klavdia Vasilyevna approached Orlov and hugged him so tightly his bones creaked. Stroked his head. Tears streamed from her eyes…

That Evening
19:50, December 3, 1983
V.I. Lenin State Institute of Nuclear Physics

The institute buzzed with nervous energy. All staff were at their posts, hearts pounding as they awaited the accelerator test. Everyone was on edge! Utterly focused! Professor Eduard Yuryevich Volynitsky stood at the main control panel. Over the loudspeaker, he announced:

– Comrades! In mere minutes, we activate the Accelerator. Be attentive and observe safety protocols! Exactly at 20:00, additional power will flow to the main accumulator… Testing at full capacity! Right sector, switch the accelerator to the main accumulator! Test duration: until 20:10. Repeat: shut down the engine and gradually decelerate the turbine at 20:10! Left sector, copy? *Gradually*! Comrades. All personnel prepare! Attention! Countdown…

Activate keys for engines one and two!

Ten, nine, eight, seven…

Activate keys for engines three and four!

Six, five, four, three, two, one…

At the Same Time
19:50, December 3, 1983
Apartment of Andrei Maltsev

Andrei and his wife Lyuba were in the kitchen. He ate soup hungrily; she watched him adoringly, occasionally stroking his hair. The apartment lights were off. Only the kitchen was lit. The children were already… asleep… Andrei and Lyuba spoke in whispers, trying to stay quiet.

– How was your day? Tired? – Lyuba asked.

– Exhausted! – Andrei grumbled. – Desperately sleepy!

– Eat up, then we’ll sleep… – Lyuba smiled, kissing his crown. – Guess what? Seryozha got an A in math today! Masha got two B’s! Our kids are great! Pity Dad barely sees them. They miss you. Masha even cried near school today. Said, “I want to see Papa more!” Barely calmed her…

Andrei stopped eating. Sighed heavily:

– I miss them too! Come home from work – they’re already asleep. Mornings… Don’t see them at all! Tomorrow, let’s go somewhere! Entertain them! Spend time together!

– Where? Nowhere to go!

– Visit someone, for example!

– Andrei, visits? People are saving every kopek for New Year’s! Skipping meals for a richer holiday table. And feeding guests? No! No guests! Sled them around the yard, that’s it! Or take them to the cinema. They’re showing a new film. Galya from work saw it recently. Said it’s good.

– Well, maybe we’ll go! I’ll think of something… Hard to plan when Saturdays are workdays! Who invented six-day workweeks? Fine for us… but kids? Studying Saturdays! Awful!

– Andrei, quieter, – Lyuba said fearfully. – Our government did! Said it’s temporary… Only a month like this… After New Year’s, back to normal. Five-day week. They promised!

– Yeah, listen to them, – Andrei fumed. – They didn’t do this for nothing! Temporary now, permanent later!

The kitchen light died. The fridge stopped rumbling…

– What now? – Andrei exclaimed.

– Fuse blew? – said Lyuba. – Check the hallway.

Andrei rose and approached the window.

Streetlights were dark…

Neighboring buildings were dark too…

– Not a fuse! – Andrei whispered fearfully.

At the Same Time

19:50, December 3, 1983

Office of KGB Border Troops Captain Pyotr Orlov

Captain Orlov sat at his desk, writing briskly in the duty log. Then he called Moscow… reporting the day’s events. They thanked him for excellent work, wished him a good weekend, and said goodbye until Monday…

Orlov hung up and slowly walked to the window.

Outside was deserted and quiet. Snow fell slowly, covering the swept roads and sidewalks. Orlov was profoundly alone… Nowhere to rush. He came home at midnight or 1 AM… much to his driver Sergeant Smirnov’s frustration, who couldn’t rest nights because of his boss!

The office light was off…

Orlov stood silently in darkness, watching the window. He savored the peace. Outside, fluffy snowflakes blanketed the city’s sidewalks and roads…

– Tomorrow, street cleaners will be busy! – he thought, smiling.

Streetlights suddenly died…

The city plunged into darkness…

– What? – Orlov gasped. Never in his memory had this happened! City power *never* failed!

Emergency!

He strode to his desk.

Picked up the phone to call the duty officer.

No dial tone…

He slammed it down… grabbed his greatcoat, and ran outside…

That Evening

20:06, December 3, 1983

V.I. Lenin State Institute of Nuclear Physics

The Electromagnetic Accelerator test was in full swing…

Engines roared at full power! Readings meticulously recorded. Professor Eduard Yuryevich Volynitsky stood near the main console, peering through the large observation window into the test chamber where the accelerator stood. It began emitting sudden grinding and ringing…

– Increase power! – he commanded.

– Time to shut down? – Pavel Yushkov clarified. – It’s ringing! Eduard Yuryevich, we have enough data. Something’s wrong!

– Pasha! – Eduard Yuryevich shouted. – Increase power! I know it’s close… increase!

Pavel swallowed nervously and obediently flipped switches, boosting turbine power…

The accelerator vibrated faintly; the ringing became a hum.

– More! – the professor demanded. – Pasha, more! One unit up. Now! I feel it… Pasha, increase! Come on!

Pavel glanced fearfully at the turbine sensors – glowing bright red… “Overheating.” He wiped his sweaty face with his lab coat sleeve. Looked again – horrified… now all sensors blinked… “Emergency.”

– Pasha, increase another unit! – Eduard Yuryevich yelled over the turbine’s roar. – Come on, increase!

– Pavel Konstantinovich, we’ll blow up! It’ll kill us all! Don’t listen to him, shut it down! – terrified scientists monitoring results cried.

Eduard Yuryevich stared wildly – first at the large digital clock near the accelerator, then at the device itself… He realized in minutes, he’d have to shut down engines and turbine.

Time was running out, yet the desired result eluded him! He rushed to Pavel’s console and flipped all switches – three notches up!

– Don’t touch anything! – he shouted feverishly. – Don’t dare! Hands off the console!

Pavel stared terrified, not recognizing his mentor… Before him stood not the teacher he’d revered for years, but a madman with manic tendencies! Pavel was too stunned and scared to move, barely breathing. In shock, he didn’t notice the accelerator stop humming and vibrating…

He only snapped to when Eduard Yuryevich screamed in astonishment:

– Pasha, Pasha, look! It worked! I told you! It worked!

Pavel looked at the accelerator – stunned…

He couldn’t believe his eyes.

– What is that? – he barely whispered.

– What we strived for! – Eduard Yuryevich gasped excitedly. – Dark matter! Pasha, it’s a piece of the universe! The greatest cosmic mystery! We did it! Did it! They didn’t lie…

All institute staff watched the accelerator, mesmerized. It rotated slowly; around it, something formed and grew…

Like bright green smoke. It expanded smoothly around the accelerator, shimmering dirty gold with crimson flashes. Then slowed, becoming transparent as glass. Then stopped completely, covered in a mirror-like surface reflecting everything.

– Impossible! – Pavel gaped. – It worked?

– Yes! – Eduard Yuryevich replied proudly. – It worked! Did you doubt me, Pasha? Think I’m insane? No! I’m a scientist! No great victory without risk, Pasha. We must act. Decisively! Only that way. Pasha, my friend, forgive me… I lied to you… I never called Moscow… No one would’ve permitted cutting… city power. Absolutely forbidden! But we needed the energy! I risked it… lied! Called the power plant, asked a favor… Said it was secret, no calls needed… I’m respected; they agreed quickly!

– Lied to me too! – Pavel whispered bitterly.

– Pasha, a necessary lie! – Eduard Yuryevich shouted defensively. – What choice did I have? Thanks to my lie, we achieved what we sought for years! They told me it would work… And they were right!

– Who? Who told you?

– Pasha, irrelevant! We did it! Just needed more energy… that’s all!

– Eduard Yuryevich, I don’t know who told you what… But you broke the law! The KGB will jail you! Or shoot you! And me too… What have you done? How? Why? This was forbidden. It’s sabotage! Treason! God knows what else they’ll charge us with… Horror! Why? The city couldn’t lose power! What if intruders entered? Nightmare! We’re doomed…

– Pasha, Pasha, don’t panic! Calm down! Our government will *reward* us for today! Forgive all sins… We’re heroes, Pasha, heroes! Not criminals!

– I doubt it! – Pavel said dejectedly. – Maybe rewarded first, jailed later!

– Pasha, don’t fear! I’ll say you knew nothing… take all blame!

– Eduard Yuryevich, under torture, *everyone* confesses!

– Pasha, I beg you, what—

Their talk was cut by a sudden, rising sound. Like an electrical whistle and crackle. It grew louder… Evoking fear and sharp headaches. Scientists covered their ears – useless. The sound was deafening! They tried fleeing… But standing, they collapsed paralyzed. Seized by convulsions. They screamed and writhed… blood flowed from eyes, ears, noses.

The accelerator stopped rotating. Green smoke around it froze mid-air… The sound ceased.

Seconds later, a deafening *crack* echoed… A shockwave vibrated through the entire city!

The Next Morning

08:00, December 3, 1983

Office of KGB Border Troops Captain Pyotr Orlov

The phone rang. Captain Orlov answered:

– Orlov here!

– Comrade Captain, permission to report! Duty Officer Vasilyev! – a crisp voice came through.

– Permission granted! Report!

– Observation towers one through six: no incidents. Checkpoint of the V.I. Lenin Institute of Nuclear Physics: no incidents. GAI traffic post: no incidents. At 06:30, patrol detained one intoxicated citizen… nonviolent! Given a warning and driven home. No other incidents in the city!

– Any requests or complaints from personnel?

– None! – Vasilyev reported.

– Understood! Report anything immediately! You know!

– Yes, Comrade Captain! – Vasilyev answered loudly. Serving the Soviet Union!

– At ease! – Orlov hung up and… paused. Something felt off…

Unease lingered. Strange! Like he’d meant to do something… What? He couldn’t recall! He checked his planner, flipped through duty logs… all normal. All fine!

Orlov sighed deeply, held his breath, slowly exhaled…

The Next Morning

08:00, December 3, 1983

Office of KGB Border Troops Captain Pyotr Orlov

The phone rang incessantly…

Orlov mechanically answered:

– Listening!

– Comrade Captain, permission to report! Duty Officer Vasilyev! – a crisp voice came through.

– Permission granted! Report!

– Observation towers one through six: no incidents…

– Stop! Halt! – Orlov blurted suddenly.

– Something wrong, Comrade Captain? – Vasilyev asked.

– Wrong? You mocking me?

– No, Comrade Captain!

– You reported this already!

– Reported what? When?

– All of it! You just called!

– Me? Aah… – Vasilyev hesitated.

– Stop mumbling! – Orlov grew nervous.

– I didn’t call you, Comrade Captain! I just came on duty!

– Meaning?

– Literally! Took over shift, calling to report!

Orlov stayed silent… His heart pounded so loudly he heard it. Thoughts tangled, breathing grew heavy. Anxiety mounted…

– What’s happening? What’s wrong with me? – he mentally asked.

– Comrade Captain, hello? You hear me? – Vasilyev panicked into the phone.

– Stop yelling! – Orlov snapped. – I hear you!

– Sorry, my voice is just loud, not yelling. You were silent, I thought—

– Oh, his voice is loud… – Orlov interrupted. – Vasilyev? You *are* Vasilyev?

– Yes, Vasilyev!

– Didn’t you have duty yesterday?

– No, Comrade Captain! Rybakov was on yesterday! I came on at 07:30!

– You sure? – Orlov asked skeptically.

– Yes, sure!

– Strange!

– What?

– Nothing… Tell me, Vasilyev, yesterday or the day before, did patrol detain any drunk citizens?

– No, Comrade Captain!

– Sure?

– Yes, sure! All incidents strictly logged. None yesterday! But today… you didn’t let me finish. Today they detained—

– At 06:30? – Orlov interrupted.

– Exactly! – Vasilyev said, puzzled. – How did you know?

Orlov broke into a sweat… heart raced faster…

– Hello? Comrade Captain… Hello! – Vasilyev persisted.

– Vasilyev, stop shredding your throat… with that loud voice! I hear you fine. Knew it… part of the job! Got it?

– Yes, got it. – Vasilyev mumbled, confused.

– All right, report accepted! Call if incidents occur!

– Serving the Soviet Union!

– At ease!

Orlov hung up, stood, and walked to the window. Bright sunlight blinded him… He closed his eyes, gathering thoughts… Trying to comprehend. Reasoning:

– This must have a logical explanation! How do I know what I can’t know? What’s happening? Has this happened before? Nonsense! Can’t be!

Chest tight… hard to breathe… Am I sick? What’s wrong?

At the Same Time
08:00, December 3, 1983
Apartment of Andrei Maltsev

– Andrei, get up, we’re leaving! – Lyuba shouted, closing the door. Andrei opened one eye, barely replying as the door slammed… Squinting at sunlight, he sat up slowly. Suddenly, he stood abruptly and marched to the kitchen wall with the tear-off calendar… Ripped off yesterday’s page, waited anxiously a few seconds. Then sighed deeply and opened the kitchen table drawer…

Among many torn pages, two identical ones lay neatly on top – both for December 2nd! In his hand, he held a third! Exhaling, Andrei slowly retrieved the two pages and sat at the table. Placed all three there… Studied, compared, scrutinized them… Then stood, threw *all* drawer pages into the trash. Carefully placed only December 2nd pages into the now-empty drawer. Andrei stood motionless, silent for minutes. Thinking… Many dark thoughts flooded his mind!

To distract himself, he decided to make breakfast. Thinking’s easier on a full stomach! And time for work.

Later That Day
13:35, December 3, 1983
Cafeteria, Timber Processing Plant

Andrei Maltsev and his workmate Viktor ate lunch.

– Great soup today! Awesome! – Viktor chewed admiringly.

– Yeah… – Andrei muttered thoughtfully.

– Glad I got seconds. Skipping main course. Better enjoy soup. This borscht… – Viktor moaned with pleasure.

– Where’ll you celebrate New Year? As usual? – Viktor asked.

– Yeah, – Andrei said automatically. Finishing his compot, added:

– Finished? Time to load planks! They won’t load themselves!

– Hmm… let’s go! – Viktor said, surprised. – Took the words right out of my mouth!

At the Same Time

13:35, December 3, 1983

Office of KGB Border Troops Captain Pyotr Orlov

Orlov called the duty officer. Asked about the city. Vasilyev reported all calm! With one exception…

Since morning, more people than usual sought medical help… Complaints: Persistent headache, weakness, dizziness, rapid heartbeat.

– Understood! – said Orlov. – Call immediately if worsening!

– Yes, Comrade Captain!

– At ease!

After minutes of thought, Orlov called the checkpoint where his driver, Sergeant Smirnov, waited. Told him to warm up the UAZ jeep and wait at HQ gates. Ten minutes later, they drove to City Clinic. Upon arrival, the chief physician assured Orlov no panic! Seasonal, she said… Bodies reacting to weather changes. Magnetic storms likely… Sun abnormally bright for early December. Though she noted patients with such symptoms weren’t unprecedented, *this* volume was unrecalled. Still, she promised no cause for panic! To update Orlov if things worsened.

The UAZ moved slowly down the frozen road…

Orlov gazed out the window, thinking:

– Something *must* happen! What? He didn’t understand his premonitions… Why? Depressing…

Anxiety grew…

That Evening

19:50, December 3, 1983

Apartment of Andrei Maltsev

Andrei and Lyuba were in the kitchen. He picked at his soup; she watched adoringly. Lights off; only kitchen lit. Children asleep…

Andrei and Lyuba whispered quietly.

– How was your day? Tired? – Lyuba asked. – No appetite?

– Huh? No! I just… – Andrei hesitated.

– What’s wrong?

– With me?

– Yes! You! Something at work? Tell me!

– Work… fine… Lyuba, ever had déjà vu?

– What’s that?

– Déjà vu. When you feel a situation’s happened before! Understand? Ever felt that?

– Hmm… dunno… – she pondered. – Can’t recall… why?

– Nothing. Just asked! Andrei didn’t want to scare Lyuba. He needed to figure this out alone!

– Maybe just tired? – Lyuba stroked his shoulder. – Eat, then sleep! Morning will fix everything! Your déjà vu and all! – She rose, kissed his cheek.

Andrei smiled.

– By the way… – Lyuba remembered. – Our Seryozha got an A in math today! And Masha…

Kitchen lights died. Fridge silenced…

Andrei sat frozen, fear paralyzing him. Muscles numb. He couldn’t move… Blood trickled from his nose…

19:50, December 3, 1983

Office of KGB Border Troops Captain Pyotr Orlov

Captain Orlov sat at his desk, writing briskly in the duty log…

He paused, lost in thought. Anxiety wouldn’t release him… Sighing heavily, he resumed writing.

Then picked up the phone to call Moscow with his daily report. Dead silence… Orlov grew seriously alarmed. Government line dead? Unprecedented! Dizziness hit. Hard to breathe…

Slightly calmer, he called the duty officer, ordering signalmen to fix intercity lines immediately.

Orlov rose, paced his office. Heart pained terribly; sweat broke out…

He slapped his cheeks hard. – *Snap out of it! Soviet officer! Come on… Need to go home. Just overworked! Plus these… magnetic storms! Home! Urgently home, sleep!*

He froze. A wave of fear and panic washed over him…

With sudden horror, he realized – he couldn’t remember… didn’t know where he lived! Remembered nothing!

Heart clenched his chest… Lump in throat… Gasping, he barely managed:

– What’s wrong with me?

Suddenly, the office darkened further…

Orlov looked out the window.

Streetlights off. Nearby houses dark too.

Staggering, he approached his desk, grabbed the phone to call the duty officer…

Drops of blood, one by one, hit the phone…

He wiped his nose. Blood on hand.

– What?.. – he barely uttered before losing consciousness.

The Next Morning

08:00, December 3, 1983

Office of KGB Border Troops Captain Pyotr Orlov

The phone rang like mad…

Orlov sat at his desk, empty gaze fixed ahead…

Weakness throughout his body, fog in his head…

Slowly, trembling hand lifted the receiver:

– Orlov… – he barely moved his lips.

– Comrade Captain, permission to report. Duty Officer Vasilyev.

– Ah… Vasilyev! Again? Report. Drunk detained… driven home… What else?

– Aah… – Vasilyev clearly bewildered, stumbled verbally. Didn’t know what to say. His brain’s regulations short-circuited… He was used to Captain Orlov always alert, by-the-book! Serious!

But here… someone mumbled! Drunk? Vasilyev thought. Though Orlov never drank… Why talk like this? How did he know about the detained citizen? Strange!

– Well… – said Orlov. – Understood… Silence, I manage alone! Report accepted! Goodbye. At ease!

He hung up.

– There! – he muttered. – How do I know all this? My head… my state… What’s wrong? Must see Klavdia Vasilyevna… she’ll help! Give pills…

He rubbed his face, slapped his cheeks to compose himself. Then, gritting teeth, stood and staggered to the medical unit.

Knocked… No answer. Opened the door sharply, entered.

– Klavdia Vasilyevna, may I? – he asked, closing the door.

– Yes, Petya, come in. – she replied tiredly.

Klavdia Vasilyevna sat at her desk, washing down a pill she’d just chewed.

– What’s wrong, headache? – she asked, setting down the empty glass.

– What? Yes… No! Yes! How’d you know? – Orlov sat beside her.

– Many have headaches today! That kind of day… crazy! Usually dawns late winter… But here… Sun shining since 6 AM, like summer! Pity it doesn’t warm! Hate winter!

– Agree! – Orlov smiled.

She smiled back:

– My friend from the hospital called. Said they’re swamped…

– Meaning?

– Many patients! Really many!

– Seriously?

– Yes! Said if this continues, patients’ll line corridors. Not enough beds! Symptoms all same:

Headache, rapid heartbeat, dizziness, psychosis… Horror!

– Strange! – Orlov frowned. – I was there yesterday… or… I *was* there…

– Why yesterday? I mean *today*. Yesterday was calm. This morning… chaos! She said the chief physician won’t report to authorities yet… Afraid? Dunno… Anyway, lively day! So it got you too? This madness? Headache?

– What?

– I said, did this day touch you with its madness? Headache?

– Well, yes… – Orlov smiled guiltily.

– How so? – Klavdia teased. – Invincible, mighty Captain Orlov defeated by a headache? Known you years, never saw you sick! Here… Look! Headache like all mortals! Don’t worry, I’ll give a pill, all pass… Hope! Mine hasn’t yet!

She opened her desk drawer, pulled out two pills:

– Here, take two now.

Orlov smiled, silently stared at the floor… He knew Klavdia joked, but still ashamed! Of his weakness and helplessness. Ashamed he didn’t know what was happening? Didn’t control the situation… as usual! Soviet officer, duty-bound to protect this city from any danger! Orlov didn’t know how! For that… he felt deep shame!

– Come on, take them, Petya! – Klavdia offered.

Breathing heavily, he slowly, shamefully took them, pocketed them, mumbled shyly:

– Thank you! Take later… head doesn’t hurt much.

– Well, as you wish. I’ll take another… Blood pressure’s jumping, awful!

Gathering courage, Orlov cautiously asked:

– Klavdia Vasilyevna, can someone forget where they live?

– Meaning?

– Forget! Can’t recall address, apartment layout… nothing!

– Wow! – she was surprised. – Interesting! And remembers nothing?

– Nothing at all!

– Absolutely nothing?

– Yes! Just – poof – forgot! Possible?

– Who is this?

– An acquaintance.

– What acquaintance?

– You don’t know him!

– Petya, what’s wrong? Speak!

– I… well… I say… an acquaintance forgot where he lives. Possible? How cure?

– Your… this acquaintance, drink?

– No!

– Hit his head?

– No!

Use narcotics?

– No!

– You answer confidently – ask your acquaintance?

– No need to ask, I know everything about him!

– You’re that close?

– Yes!

– Wow! – Klavdia eyed him skeptically. – I see! – she said slowly.

Orlov wished the earth would swallow him. He was a man of honor, always truthful! Yet here, forced to lie! To Klavdia Vasilyevna… someone he deeply respected!

– So, possible? How treat? – he asked, eyes down.

– Of course possible! From fatigue or severe stress. Alcohol or narcotics use. Head injury. Many reasons to lose memory. Need to see him! Can’t say without examination! Tell him to come. Tests… If we can help, we will! If complex case, send to Moscow.

– Okay, thanks. Tell him if I see him… – Orlov stood hastily. – Well, I must go… – He wanted to flee. Conscience tormented him for lying.

– Wait… – Klavdia called.

Orlov was leaving… He turned.

– You told me… about your acquaintance… And I thought… I don’t remember… how I got to work today! Probably headache. Blood pressure awful! Everything foggy…

Orlov swallowed nervously. Scared… for Klavdia! He didn’t know what to say. How to help?

Headache intensified… heartbeat, dizziness… He could barely stand! Needed to say something, support… but words failed!

He simply stared silently…

– Okay… – Klavdia breathed heavily. – I’ll lie on the couch, rest, something’s… Go Petya, go, all be fine! Don’t pity me… Don’t worry, all good… Truly! I can care for myself… Grown woman. Officer. Go!

– I… – Orlov whispered. – Visit later. Rest… Thank you! Get well!

Klavdia Vasilyevna smiled.

He quietly closed the door, slowly walked to his office. Suddenly, inspiration struck:

– Smirnov! My driver… *He* knows where I live. Tell him to drive me home! That’s it!

Energized, he entered his office, called the duty officer…

Soon, he sat in the UAZ:

– Smirnov, urgently need home! Drive me. Pick me up in two hours.

– Okay, Comrade Captain! – Smirnov said cheerfully. – Need it, must do!

The UAZ sped off but slowed after a hundred meters… Stopped roadside.

– What’s wrong? Why stop? – Orlov asked.

Smirnov sat silently, gripping the wheel, staring ahead, breathing heavily…

– Answer! Why stop?

Smirnov suddenly sniffled, cried.

– What? – Orlov asked. – What’s wrong?

– I don’t know where you live! – Smirnov sobbed. – Forgive me, Comrade Captain! I forgot… why? Forgive! I don’t remember…

He kept apologizing, weeping…

Orlov tried maintaining composure. Tried understanding. First him, then Klavdia. Now his driver, Sergeant Smirnov… All lost memory! What’s happening? What? Thoughts tangled… chest heavy… Heart felt squeezed!

– Okay… stop… – Orlov said, gathering thoughts. – All good! I’ll get home myself. Or drive me when you remember. Honestly, busy… So… Back to HQ!

Patting Smirnov’s shoulder, he calmly watched the window. Pretended all was fine. Though fear gripped his mind! Something deep in memory clawed like a wild beast to surface… Orlov felt with every cell – this memory would soon… break free, and he’d understand!

At the Same Time
08:00, December 3, 1983
Apartment of Andrei Maltsev

– Andrei, get up, we’re leaving! – Lyuba shouted, closing the door.

– I love you! – Andrei said suddenly.

Lyuba stopped on the threshold…

Hearing this surprised and pleased her! She thought Andrei slept.

– Love you too! – she smiled, slowly closing the door…

Andrei got out of bed, walked briskly to the kitchen. Approached the tear-off calendar…

Ripped off yesterday’s page. Opened the kitchen cabinet drawer, slowly placed it inside…

– Four… Now four! – he said, voice trembling.

Minutes passed, Andrei stood silently staring at the pages…

– What’s happening? What?

Fog in his head… thoughts tangled… He struggled to hold on! Suddenly wanted to run, hide…

Panic attacks, oxygen deprivation hindered focus… Andrei sweated profusely!

– Why does this day repeat? What’s happening? Or… am I dead?

He sat, did breathing exercises to normalize his heartbeat.

His wife taught him… Her father taught her… Before he left the family…

Calmer, Andrei decided to skip work. Dedicate time to solving… this insane day… He called his foreman:

– Hello! Sanych, Andrei Maltsev. Can’t come today. Sick, something…

– Maltsev! – the foreman yelled. – What the hell? I’m sick too! Head splitting, dizzy… But *I’m* working!

– Sanych, can’t. Sorry!

– Maltsev… Andrei heard the foreman’s angry breathing.

– You… – he spat viciously. – Anyway… if not here tomorrow, fired to hell! Got it?

– Got it!

– One day… hear? One!

Long dial tone…

– Sanych, you won’t even remember tomorrow! – Andrei hung up.

A polyglot and avid book lover, Andrei had amassed a decent library. Not just fiction… Dictionaries, reference books, scientific articles from journals.

He decided to start by studying those articles.

Then… refresh his memory by rereading favorite sci-fi stories. Soviet and foreign authors. Without delay, he got to work! Settling into the large armchair in the bedroom.

Later That Day
13:45, December 3, 1983
Apartment of Andrei Maltsev

Andrei reheated lunch. While eating, digested what he’d read…

Books were familiar. Rereading felt like remembering… Glancing at one word, skipping to the next. He knew these works almost by heart!

But reviving them in memory was necessary! Today, he read not for pleasure. Andrei sought clues… Sci-fi writers often predicted what later came true…

For now… Andrei decided to observe people outside. Scout the city…

Start downtown. Lived nearby…

He retrieved his old binoculars from the hallway shelf. Took a notebook and pen from the children’s room. Put everything in the bag Lyuba sewed from old pants. (He usually took it to work.)

Dressed and walked out unhurriedly.

Frost nipped cheeks and nose. Andrei rubbed and warmed them. He walked, scrutinizing everything. Passersby seemed nervous, tense, worn out and lost.

Ambulances passed frequently.

– Strange! – Andrei thought. – Third one in ten minutes. What’s happening? Epidemic?

He took out notebook and pen, jotted observations. Reached central square. Sat on a bench near Lenin’s statue. Observed through binoculars…

Recorded interesting or odd things.

After thirty minutes, thoroughly chilled, he headed home.

– Need to talk to Lyuba today. Explain what’s happening. – Andrei said, teeth chattering. Hurried, almost ran home.

Later That Day

14:36, December 3, 1983

Office of KGB Border Troops Captain Pyotr Orlov

Orlov stood by the window, squinting as snowflakes drifted down… Against blindingly bright sun, white fluffy snow. Each flake refracted light, sparkling like diamonds!

– Amazing, beautiful sight! – Orlov thought.

It hypnotized him. He watched, transfixed. Until suddenly, he saw a passing car… strangely familiar…

– Nonsense? – Orlov muttered. – Orange Moskvich with a Christmas tree tied to the roof… Elderly woman driving… I’ve seen this! When? There… almost hit a man… Impossible! I saw this… Already seen it! Exactly! Then a street cleaner… lit a cigarette. Now he’ll slip… Exactly! What? Impossible! How? Why know this? Calm!

He stepped back, paced nervously…

Dizziness hit… sweated. Oxygen deprived…

Orlov opened the window, inhaled cold fresh air deeply. Couple more breaths, closed it.

Leaned elbows on the sill, closed eyes… Head splitting… Weakness. Chest heavy.

Memories jumbled… Hard to distinguish recent from distant!

He inhaled slowly, held breath… Tried gathering consciousness.

Counted to five…

Exhaled.

Orlov learned this self-control technique in childhood…

Inhaled, held breath…

– I can! – he mentally said. – I must! Obliged! Remember… How do I know? Why in my head? Must remember… understand!

Counted to five…

Exhaled…

Inhaled, held breath…

Remember! Remember! Remember!

Counted to five…

Exhaled…

Gradually, memories formed logical chains – then collapsed, tangled again.

Formed, tangled…

He inhaled, focused…

Calmed.

Exhaled.

Pain slowly faded.

Another effort…

Another…

Another…

He finally subdued it!

Learned to control!

Now he commanded!

Pain gone!

Memory-puzzle pieces fell into place. Not all clear, much foggy… but progress!

Orlov opened his eyes.

– This already happened! – he said confidently. – I remembered! Yesterday. Or… how? Why repeat?

After seconds:

– Yes… today. Happened today! How? Why?

Thoughts suddenly interrupted…

Orlov noticed a suspicious man on a park bench, almost under his window…

This man observed people, houses, passing cars through binoculars… Then jotted notes.

– What? – Orlov bristled. – A spy under my window?

He squinted, peered…

– Bring you here! Then figure out who you are! – Throwing on his greatcoat, he ran outside.

Crossed the road, reached the square…

– Where’d you go? – he shouted, looking around. – Vanish into thin air… Bastard!

Orlov was too late – the suspicious man with notebook and binoculars was gone…

That Evening
19:05, December 3, 1983
Apartment of Andrei Maltsev

– Lyuba, finally home! – Andrei said excitedly as she entered.

– You’re home early? – she asked joyfully. – Off early? Why?

– Yeah… What? No! Skipped work today. Lyuba, not now…

– Andrei, what’s wrong?

– Asked off. Said sick!

– You’re sick?

– No! Lyuba, come in… Get settled. I’ll explain! Kitchen.

– The kids?

– Kids fine! Homework done. Fed. Getting ready for bed…

– What’s wrong? Scaring me!

– Lyuba, sit… Andrei pulled his chair closer, took her hands.

– Lyuba, see… thing is… don’t know how to start…

– Andrei…

– Please, don’t interrupt! Thing is, this day… this one. It’s happened before! Multiple times! It repeats! Don’t know why… but… working on it. I’ll figure it out, explain later.

– Andrei…

– Lyuba, don’t interrupt! I asked… I know it sounds crazy! But… I have proof! Andrei stood, went to the kitchen cabinet. Retrieved calendar sheets.

– See? Four… identical! Each day, more… Know what it means?

– What?

– This day repeats, over and over… Five times straight!

– Andrei…

– My dear, I’ll solve why. Just wanted you to know. Though… tomorrow, you likely won’t remember this talk.

– Andrei… – Lyuba stroked his arm. – Many had a hard day today… headaches, high blood pressure. Maybe you imagined?

– Lyuba! – Andrei snapped. – There are *four*! How imagine that? Sane? What are you saying?

– Well, misprint?

– Four times straight?

– Andrei, don’t shout! Listen! Galya, from work… says Americans are poisoning us from space.

– What? Nonsense? How?

– How should I know? Says poisoning with lasers… or pressure… Forget. Many feel bad today! Ambulances everywhere… Our street cleaner, Prokhor Fomich, blames the institute!

– Meaning? What institute?

– The one on the outskirts… Nuclear Physics. Recently built.

– Well… what? Connection?

– Dunno… But Prokhor Fomich said something’s off about it… Suspicious!

– Specifics, Lyuba!

– Said when picking berries on outskirts, saw long trenches dug around the city. Pipes laid there… with wires.

– What?

– Yeah… Galya and I laughed at him. But he was serious… Said, “Don’t laugh, no joke!”

– Then what? Pipes?

– Don’t know! Not sure… Pipes connected to the institute.

– Why?

– Don’t know, Andrei!

– What else he say about it?

– Said if it’s so guarded and hidden… means bad things happen there!

– Not necessarily!

– He says it is! One thing scared him badly… he avoids the outskirts now.

– What thing?

– Big thing…

– Lyuba, specifics!

– Andrei, why so interested?

– Lyuba, just tell!

– Okay, okay… don’t shout! If I recall… Told us three years ago, picking berries… saw a giant trailer hauling an iron barrel.

– What? Barrel?

– Thing like a barrel… Some engine? Dunno! Anyway, saw it, got scared! Avoids area since!

– Why’d that engine scare him?

– Probably looked scary.

– Lyuba, what he *say*? No guesses!

– He said… scary! Imagined it starting? For what?

– And?

– That’s it!

– Saw an engine, imagined, got scared?

– Yeah, scared. What? He’s old…

– Lyuba, he survived the war! Chest full of medals! Saw him on Victory Day. Hard to scare him!

– Dunno… said scared!

– Imagine what engine that was, to scare a war veteran…

Lights suddenly died… Fridge silenced…

– Started! – Andrei shuddered.

– What? – Lyuba gasped. – Fuse?

Andrei took Lyuba’s hands:

– My dear, I love you very much! Kids and you… love you deeply…

Before finishing, Andrei collapsed…

Muscles numb. Blood trickled from his nose…

At the Same Time

19:05, December 3, 1983

Office of KGB Border Troops Captain Pyotr Orlov

Orlov sat at his desk writing…

He paused, lost in thought. Anxiety wouldn’t release him… Sighing, he resumed.

Then picked up the phone to call Moscow for his daily report. Dead silence… Orlov grew truly alarmed. Government line dead? Unprecedented! Dizziness hit. Hard to breathe…

Slightly calmer, he called the duty officer, ordering signalmen to fix intercity lines immediately.

Orlov paced his office. Heart ached terribly; sweat poured.

He slapped his cheeks hard. – *Snap out of it! Soviet officer! Come on… Need home. Just overworked! Plus these magnetic storms! Home! Urgently home, sleep!*

He froze. A wave of fear and panic…

With sudden horror, he realized – he couldn’t remember where he lived! Remembered nothing!

Heart clenched his chest… Lump in throat… Gasping, he barely managed:

– What’s wrong with me?

Suddenly, the office darkened…

Orlov looked out.

Streetlights off. Nearby houses dark.

Staggering, he approached his desk, grabbed the phone…

Drops of blood hit it…

He wiped his nose. Blood on hand.

– What?.. – he uttered before collapsing.

The Next Morning

08:00, December 3, 1983

Office of KGB Border Troops Captain Pyotr Orlov

The phone rang relentlessly…

Orlov sat at his desk, vacant stare fixed ahead…

Weakness, foggy head…

Slowly, trembling hand lifted the receiver:

– Orlov…

– Comrade Captain, permission to report. Duty Officer Vasilyev.

– Ah… Vasilyev! Again? Report. Drunk detained… driven home… What else?

– Aah… – Vasilyev clearly bewildered. He didn’t know what to say. His brain’s regulations malfunctioned… Used to Captain Orlov alert, by-the-book! Serious!

But this mumbling… Drunk? Vasilyev thought. Though Orlov never drank… Why talk like this? How know about the detained? Strange!

– Well… – said Orlov. – Understood… Silence, I manage alone! Report accepted! Goodbye. At ease!

He hung up.

– There! – he muttered. – How know all this? My head… my state… What’s wrong? Must see Klavdia Vasilyevna… she’ll help! Give pills…

He rubbed his face, slapped his cheeks. Gritted teeth, stood, staggered to medical unit.

Knocked… Entered without waiting.

– Klavdia Vasilyevna, may I? – he asked, closing the door.

– Yes, Petya, come in. – she replied tiredly.

Klavdia Vasilyevna stood by the window, smoking. Exhaling thick smoke into the draft.

– Petya, dear, glad to see you. Come! – she smiled.

Orlov smiled shyly, sat.

– Klavdia Vasilyevna, working late again tonight? – he asked.

– Yes. – she replied sadly. – No one waits home! I arrive at seven AM. Leave near midnight. Something wrong?

– No. Just asking. Not afraid walking alone so late? Night, winter… Anything could happen?

– No… – she laughed. – Who needs me? Old woman! City’s quiet. I live close…

Klavdia Vasilyevna, hesitated…

– I think… – she added uncertainly.

– You *think*? – Orlov pressed. – Don’t remember where you live?

Genuine fear filled her eyes. She strained to remember… Failed! She stubbed her cigarette, sat silently. Looked terrified at Orlov, tears welling:

– Petya… I don’t remember! I… don’t remember where I live!

Orlov watched her, heart aching! But he smiled:

– I don’t remember where *I* live either!

– What? – she wiped tears.

– I don’t remember! But I remember where *you* live! I’ll take you. Familiar walls will help you remember! Don’t worry!

– Really? – she smiled through tears.

– Yes. – Orlov approached, hugged her tightly.

– All be fine! Don’t cry.

They stood embracing; Klavdia sobbed on his shoulder. Orlov stroked her head with a trembling hand… Barely holding back his own tears.

Suddenly, the room darkened…

Orlov, as if snapping awake, said sharply:

– I remembered!

– What happened? – Klavdia panicked.

– I remembered! – he repeated loudly. – Stay here! Don’t leave! Be back soon!

– What’s happening?! Petya… Petya, where?

But Orlov didn’t hear…

He ran outside…

Crossed the road, stopped center square near Lenin’s statue. Looked around. Dark…

Looked left, right… City engulfed in darkness!

He remembered… this repeating day! Start to finish.

Suddenly, the earth trembled; a wave of bright green light knocked him down.

Orlov rose… crumpled in pain!

He screamed, hands clamping ears. A piercing sound tore at his eardrums, drilling into his brain!

A minute later, silence.

Orlov slowly straightened, caught his breath. Looked around…

Looked at his hands… covered in blood…

The Next Morning

08:00, December 3, 1983

Office of KGB Border Troops Captain Pyotr Orlov

Phone ringing.

Orlov mechanically answered:

– Listening!

– Comrade Captain, permission to report! Duty Officer Vasilyev.

– Report!

– Emergency in the city! Since early morning, many citizens seek medical help… Hospitals overwhelmed! Symptoms identical: Headache, arrhythmia, psychosis, hallucinations. Doctors don’t know this epidemic. Psychiatric hospital full too. People going mad! Many deaths. Suicides. City in panic!

Orlov silently processed this…

He fought to stay calm and detached. It was hard!

– Hello? Comrade Captain, hear me?

– Hear you, Vasilyev! That all? Anything else?

– No!

– Understood… told you yesterday… damn… forget! Now…

Today… Now, tell signalmen – urgently restore Moscow connection! Immediately! Need communication! Got it?

– Yes, Comrade Captain!

– Execute!

Orlov hung up.

– The sheet! – he said anxiously. – I wrote on a sheet yesterday…

Opened a document folder… the top sheet was blank!

– Hm… figures! Almost expected! Okay… rewrite.

He rewrote yesterday’s notes…

Added in large letters at the end: SITUATION WORSENING!

– Klavdia Vasilyevna! – Orlov remembered fearfully. – Promised to walk her home…

He stood abruptly, strode to medical unit.

Knocked… Opened the door, entered:

– Klavdia Vasilyevna, let me walk you… – he froze in shock. By the window, smoking, stood a middle-aged man.

– Who are you? – Orlov asked distrustfully.

– Petya, hi! You? Came to chat? – the man smiled.

– I repeat, who are you?

– Petya, not funny!

– I’m not laughing! Who are you? Where’s Klavdia Vasilyevna?

– Petya, what’s with you?

– Who’s “Petya”? Count to three – I draw my gun!

– Pyotr, what’s wrong? Confusing me?

– One!

– Petya, crazy? Stop!

– Quickly! Who are you? Where’s Klavdia Vasilyevna? Two!

– What Klavdia Vasilyevna? Drunk? – the man hid fearfully behind the desk.

– Three! – Orlov drew his gun, aiming.

– Talk! – he shouted.

– Talk what? – the man wept, trembling.

– Who are you?

– Vasily Karlovich!

– Who? – Orlov kept shouting.

– Petya, what’s wrong?

– Call me Petya again – I shoot! Who are you?

– Doctor… work here. My office. Petya, what’s wrong?

– Warned you! – Orlov snarled. He rushed the man, pressed the gun to his head.

The man cried harder, begged Orlov not to kill him…

– Calmly, who are you? Where’s Klavdia Vasilyevna?

– Please, calm down!

– Don’t calm me! Talk! – Orlov released the safety.

The man squeezed his eyes shut, slumped…

– Talk!

– Vasily Karlovich… – he stammered, sobbing. – Work here… We’re friends! You… Don’t remember?

– Lying, bastard! – Orlov pressed the gun so hard blood trickled from the man’s temple.

– Please… – he begged. – It hurts! Stop!

Orlov lowered the gun, asked calmly:

– Where… is Klavdia Vasilyevna?

Wiping temple blood, the man stammered:

– Truly, don’t know who that is? Worked here long. Understand? No idea who you mean! What’s wrong?

Enough! Stop! Why? Why treat me like this?

Orlov saw the man likely spoke truth…

At least, believed it himself!

– What’s happening? – he asked mentally. – Am I going mad? Or already mad? Where’s Klavdia Vasilyevna? What’s happening?

Composing himself, he smiled awkwardly:

– Sorry, friend… Vasily. It was a test… and you passed! Apologize. Part of the job!

– What? What test?

– Yes… Don’t sweat! Routine test… Call from HQ…

– What call? – the man tensed.

– Checking everyone’s loyalty to the Motherland!

– Seriously? – the man stood stiffly.

– Yes! And you… friend Vasily, passed with honors!

– Really? – the man sighed relieved.

– Yes! – Orlov backed toward the exit. – Correct! Well done… Goodbye… – exited, slammed the door.

He strode to his office. Put on greatcoat and hat, descended stairs, exited…

Crossing the road, he passed the park, soon reaching Klavdia Vasilyevna’s building.

Entered, climbed to the third floor…

– What the hell? – he gaped. – Where’s her apartment?

Orlov stood center landing, disbelieving. Where Klavdia’s apartment was… now a wall!

– Wait! Apartment one, two, three… Where’s four? What the hell? What’s happening?

He knocked on one door.

A young man opened.

– Excuse me… – Orlov said. – Where’s apartment four?

– Always three apartments here. – the man replied calmly.

– Always? – Orlov bristled. – Joking? Every landing in this building has four apartments! This floor – three?! How? Where’s the fourth?

The man replied with equal calm:

– Comrade Captain, why shout? Answered your question. Four apartments per floor – here, apparently three. Complain to builders! Not my fault! Sorry!

– There was a door here… – Orlov fought for control. – A red door! Still here yesterday! Where? – He pointed at the wall. – Right here!

The man looked at the wall, then Orlov:

– Three apartments. Always only three! What else? Argue? Pointless? What do you want? Told you everything!

Orlov glared menacingly… couldn’t think of a reply… Silently turned, left!

He inhaled frosty air deeply, trying to calm down…

Thoughts jumbled, soul sick!

What’s happening? Can’t be real! Can’t! Reality changing! Or… someone’s changing it! Who? Why? Same day repeating… What?

For a moment, Orlov truly believed he’d gone mad!

He walked slowly back to HQ through the park.

Thought… Remembered… Questions flooded him.

Had Klavdia Vasilyevna ever existed?

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