The feeling of unease settled like a freezing fog that blankets a valley after a snowstorm. The lurking suspicion that something was wrong, that malevolent forces were gathering weighed upon Andrei all day. Before heading off to his evening shift at the lab, he scraped a pan of snow from the previous nights storm off the pile by the door of the barracks and carried it back to set on the stove. He needed to wash his face and clear his mind. The news of Stalin’s death a week ago had cheered everyone except the commandant of the camp. Wild rumors had spread about how they would all be released shortly and given passes to ride the trains back to their homes and restart their lives. Men and women who had plodded blankly through their days were suddenly animated with hope and dreams. The possibilities of a future had transformed the atmosphere overnight. People greeted one another with a smile and excited chatter about what they would feel when they wrapped their arms around their lovers and children for the first time in so many years or felt the cobblestones of the main street of their home towns beneath their boots. Bodies that had seemed on the verge of death due to the starvation and the cold suddenly seemed healthy again. The thin emaciated bodies were standing straighter and walking with the confident strides of the living. Andrei watched it all with amazement. It made the miracles of medicine pale by comparison. An atmosphere of potential had been more universally transformative than all the tinctures and potions that have ever been administered.
But then the infamous machinery of the Soviet began to turn its wheels of command and control once again. The death of their leader Koba had unleashed the dreams of his enemies and the downtrodden, but they still held the levers of control and they would not relinquish them lightly. As the days passed and no concrete news of changes reached the camp the darkness again began to dominate the day. The euphoria of change began to be eclipsed by the dark forces of continuity. The camp commindant had suddenly left his office yesterday and toured the barracks snapping orders for everyone to return to work. The guards took up their arms again and stood with straighter backs.
Andrei watched the snow melt reluctantly into the pan. The dark water at the edges of the blackened metal grabbed at the white and dragged it down. He plunged his hands into the pan just as the last of the solid disappeared and felt the warmth for a moment. Then he lifted the cup he made and splashed his face and for a moment could imagine what the sun would feel like on his face sitting on a bench at the park and watching Alexis run around with his friends. Then the cold bit at him and he grabbed the rag he used for a towel and dried before the dampness would turn to ice. His breath steamed as he stood and picked his coat up from bed and pulled it over his arms. He put his cap on and headed for the door. He hoped the orders from the Commisars would be to end the experiments and burn their findings. But he feared a darker command would come from Moscow. A command he would not be able to obey.