Chernobyl’s Revenge

The Detective

I

We were a large, humble family. After all, my parents had to support five daughters, and back then, Kyiv wasn’t one of those cities where you could earn a lot of money. We lived in a very small apartment, and my four sisters and I shared a room. As you can imagine, our resources were very limited. The world was a tough place—it still is—but back then, there was always the threat of war, and we lived in constant fear.

As the arms race between the United States and the Soviet Union escalated, we had to work harder and harder. All of us sisters worked, and although it was a difficult time, we were happy. Our family was large but united, and we all worked together to survive.

As I mentioned, Kreves, you had four aunts, but Inha Shevchenko, your mother, was the most beautiful of us all. Our mother used to say she truly lived up to her name because "Inha" means beautiful, and she really was the resemblance of beauty. Her eyes were as blue as the ocean, her hair was as black as the night, and her skin was white and flawless, almost like porcelain. She was one of, if not the most, beautiful women in Kyiv. However, despite her beauty, that wasn’t what stood out most about her—it was her kindness and intelligence. She was an extraordinary woman.

She excelled in every aspect. She was one of the best in school, helped our mother with everything, and even though she was the youngest, she took care of us the most. She was one of a kind, and all the boys in Kyiv tried to win her heart, but she didn’t pay them any attention.

When she came of age, she decided to help with the family business, which was a small grocery store at the entrance of the building where we lived. One day, while working at the store, she met your father, Andriy Lutsenko, a 27-year-old man who was tall and strong, with eyes as blue as your mother’s and light brown hair. He was a chemical engineer working on projects to create new nuclear plants throughout the Soviet Union to demonstrate its supremacy to the world. But that’s not the important part. It was that afternoon in our store when your mother fell in love. I’d even dare say it was love at first sight—a love so passionate that after a year of knowing each other, they decided to marry.

On the other hand, while your mother was living her happy ending, I had to flee with Benjamin after becoming pregnant. He is from London and, as you know, held an important position in the government. Because of that, I was able to change my identity and live here, Kreves. Sadly, six months later, I lost my baby, and it was on that very day that I learned your mother was pregnant.

Your parents, on the other hand, stayed in Kyiv a little longer until your father received a job offer at the Vladimir Ilyich Lenin nuclear power plant. It was one of the Soviet Union’s most ambitious projects. At that time, there were very few reactors in existence, and this project aimed to build four reactors in one location. It was a risky endeavor, requiring a lot of personnel to work on the plant, which led to the founding of Pripyat—a city built for the workers of what would become the Chernobyl nuclear power plant.

Like many others, your parents moved to this city, which was called "the city of the future." It was known for its slogan, “Peaceful Atom,” and was viewed as a safe, modern city that showcased the brilliance and effort behind building the nuclear power plant. Of course, as we now know, this was far from reality.

Not long after moving to Pripyat, you were born, Kreves, on March 7, and you became the first grandchild in our family. You’re the exact replica of your mother… at least in appearance. That city witnessed your first words, your first steps, and your growth. The three of you lived happily; you were the ideal family. Your father helped maintain the reactors, ensuring the plant’s safety to prevent disasters. By the time you turned eight, the government transferred him to Moscow to pursue a doctorate in nuclear plant maintenance and safety. This was to ensure that in case of any failures, there would be a containment plan and someone capable of implementing it.

Your mother and you were going to join him in Moscow, but our mother developed a severe lung condition. She couldn’t live in Kyiv, let alone Moscow, so she moved in with you to Pripyat, where the climate improved her condition significantly. That’s why you stayed there. Your father visited often, and so the years passed. As employment grew, so did the city. Pripyat became a picturesque place, full of parks, flowers (especially roses), a large communal pool, many houses and buildings, libraries, an amusement park, and, of course, the four reactors that not only powered the city but also provided employment for most of its citizens.

During these years, your mother earned the affection of the entire town. As I’ve told you, she was one of the kindest women I’ve ever known. Everyone loved her, and the neighbors looked after her when your father was away. The Lutsenko family was particularly well-known in Pripyat—your mother for her kindness and warmth, and your father for being the man striving to improve and advance the future of clean and “safe” energy.

You all lived there until you turned 13, Kreves. That year, 1986, was when our mother’s condition worsened so much that she passed away three months later. After her death, your mother decided it was time for the rest of your family to go to Moscow, as the only thing tying her to that place was our mother.

Earlier that year, your mother contacted me to tell me that our mother was gravely ill and wouldn’t live much longer. She asked for my return. As you can imagine, at that time, the United Kingdom and the Soviet Union weren’t exactly friendly nations, so traveling to Pripyat wasn’t easy. But thanks to Benjamin, we were able to travel to Ukraine so I could say goodbye.

Our mother was staying at Inha’s house, and upon arrival, I saw that all the sisters had gathered there. My father had passed away five years earlier, which I hadn’t been told. A few days after I arrived, my mother passed away, and her final wish was for her ashes to be scattered in the heart of Moscow, a city she had always longed to see. Your mother couldn’t make that trip because she had responsibilities in Pripyat, and it was also very expensive for her. So, Benjamin and I traveled to fulfill her last wish.

The night I was set to leave, Inha came to me and handed me a letter addressed to your father. When I met him in Moscow and delivered the letter, he asked us to stay a few more days, as Inha would be arriving soon with you and needed family support, and I agreed to stay and wait for my sister.

We stayed in Moscow while your father traveled to Pripyat to bring you all back, and on April 25, 1986, the entire Lutsenko family was on its way to Moscow. Unfortunately, the great disaster occurred—the Chernobyl accident. The government tried to keep it secret at all costs, but it was impossible; the damage was too extensive. Upon learning of the incident, your father sought out former colleagues. I don’t know how, but he found out what had happened that early morning and understood the risks of you remaining on Soviet soil. He then asked us for a favor. He asked us to take you to London as if you were our son.

At first, we refused. It was already complicated enough for us to travel back alone, and now we would have to do so with a thirteen-year-old boy. But your father insisted. He explained how severe the accident was and how dangerous it would be for you to remain in Soviet territory once it became known that Andriy understood the magnitude of the disaster. Moreover, if we passed you off as our son, it would be easier for you to enter England than if you traveled with your parents. Unfortunately, they would not be able to follow you. There was no way to get them out; they had to remain in the Soviet Union.

After arranging all your documents, thanks to Benjamin's connections, the three of us managed to travel back to London. It wasn’t an easy journey, but we crossed all the borders. Immigration believed that you were a child we had adopted and that we simply wanted to return to London to give you a better life.

We had to change your name so that your true nationality wouldn’t be suspected. No one could know that you were actually Ukrainian. Shortly after arriving in London, we received news that your father had disappeared under suspicious circumstances. We all knew the Soviet Union would do anything to prevent the truth about the accident from being revealed, as well as its short- and long-term impact on the population.

Your mother also realized that his disappearance was no coincidence and stayed in Russia searching for him. She didn’t get far because not long after, she also died under suspicious circumstances. According to what we were told, she overdosed on medication due to her grief over losing your father. Obviously, this was a lie, but no one could do anything to expose the government.

You lost the chance to reunite with your parents. There was no way for you to return to Ukraine, and even if you did, they were no longer alive to welcome you. In fact, you would be at great risk if you ever set foot on Soviet territory. Benjamin and I thought it was best for you not to remember this loss, so we decided to take you to a psychiatric clinic. That place specialized in therapy for post-traumatic stress, the same kind soldiers felt after returning from war, so we thought it would be perfect for you. The treatment consisted of erasing all your memories up until the moment you entered London, achieved through hypnosis sessions.

Of course, we had to come up with a “reason” why you couldn’t remember anything from your childhood or adolescence, so we decided to deceive you with the story about the fall.

We deeply regret this, Kreves. We never wanted to lie to you so cruelly, and if we ever had to reveal these secrets, we never expected it to be in this way. We are only telling you this because of this killer... this maniac who seeks vengeance for the people of Pripyat. He wants to take justice into his own hands and punish those responsible for the nuclear accident that killed—and may still be killing—hundreds of thousands of people.

He gave us this clue through the journal. The people massacred so long ago and who continue to suffer are the people of Ukraine. Moreover, I have a feeling that he has some kind of fixation on you, Kreves... and that, above all, is what worries me most. Because surely, this person knows you from your past life, and unfortunately, because of us, you cannot remember them.