The Boy Who Glowed in the Dark (The Nadia Tesla Series Book 3)
Page 27
In fact, the plane exploded before the Evenki men ever got close to it. They’d spotted the crash from the ridge of a mountain five hundred meters away. The descent by horseback required a circuitous route—the path straight down was too steep. While the horses galloped around the trail, a young man accompanying the herdsmen slid off his mare and ran straight down the mountain. The herdsmen circled to level ground just in time to see the young man race the final hundred meters to the plane. They would later argue among themselves about the young man’s speed. All agreed he was the fastest human they had ever seen. Some said he was faster than any horse they’d ever ridden, while others insisted that was exaggeration.
The young man pulled eight people from the wreckage. Some of the Evenki swore he carried them two at a time, one under each arm, though that too sounded like an overstatement to others. The plane exploded thirty seconds later.
Afterwards, the young man insisted on going back to the village before the authorities arrived. He said he didn’t want any credit for his actions. He said he would not be alive if it were not for the Evenki who’d given him food and shelter when he wandered into the village a week ago. The Evenki were most grateful for his humility, especially when the passengers insisted on expressing their thanks with a monetary reward.
When the herdsmen returned to their village, they tried to learn more about this young man. His dark complexion suggested he was from Siberia, but he spoke elegant Russian as though he were from St. Petersburg. He had half-ears, the likes of which no one in the village had ever seen. It was as though he came from a cruel culture where fathers punished their male children by the saw, not the hide.
To add to their confusion, the young man had arrived without any belongings. The woman who cared for him upon his arrival said she searched through his pockets while he was sleeping. She found what looked like a foreign passport with his picture inside. She didn’t recognize the language because the letters were in Roman. The herdsmen feared he might be a foreign spy, but his bravery during the plane crash won their admiration. And his athletic skills would make him a superior herdsman or hunter who could contribute mightily to the village’s economy.
The young man called himself Luo. He asked if he could stay awhile. The village leaders said yes. The young man who called himself Luo expressed an interest in learning how to throw a boomerang. The latter was a Chukchi device, but one of the older Evenki herdsmen had some experience with the weapon. Young Luo became his constant companion. He practiced with the boomerang daily.
The village elders gradually made inquiries in surrounding villages about their strange visitor. Their investigation led them to three and only three conclusions.
He came from nowhere.
No one had ever heard of him or seen him before.
No one knew who he was.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I am grateful to the countless journalists and writers who published works about the Fukushima Daiichi nuclear disaster and Lake Baikal. Among them was William Sargent’s “Fukushima: Nuclear Disaster on the Ring of Fire.” The credit for the historical content of this novel goes to these writers, however, all mistakes are entirely my own.
Thanks also to the many people who continue to support my work, including Lou Paglia, Jon Brolin, Irka Kachorowsky, John Walton, Sumire Hasimoto, Roman Voronka, George Saj, Annie Buhay and the ladies of UWLA Branch 115, Bob Simeone, Kim and Jeff Palmer, and Mary Jane and James Cronin. Charlotte Herscher’s editorial insight is exceeded only by her thoughtfulness. I’m indebted to the entire Thomas & Mercer team, especially Alison Dasho, for their enthusiastic, congenial, and inclusive publication process. My literary agent, Erica Silverman, remains fierce and fabulous. And my wife, Robin, was a source of light during the entire excruciating enterprise.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
PHOTO © 2011 ROBIN STELMACH
OREST STELMACH WAS born in Connecticut to Ukrainian immigrants and didn’t speak English when he was a child. He’s earned a living washing dishes, stocking department store shelves, teaching English in Japan, and managing international investments. In addition to English, he speaks Japanese, Spanish, and Ukrainian.