Point twenty six

I spent the last morning of November reading a government decree from 1996, which is not how I imagined the research phase of this book beginning. The list of the closed towns is a separate decree, from 2001, and all five of the places I need are on it. Sarov. Ozersk. Snezhinsk, Lesnoy, Novouralsk. Every address where the thing was actually made. I had all five open in tabs by nine.

The sentence that ends it is point twenty six. I read it three times. For citizens of foreign states, entry into the territory of a closed formation on private matters is restricted. Official entry exists, but it runs through an inviting organisation, a coordination with the security service and a permit from the plant director, and consent to the town is expressly not consent to the plant. I am a foreign national with no institution behind me and a private matter. There is no line in that procedure where a novelist fits.

The museum in Ozersk is free, opens on weekday mornings, and holds fragments of the first reactor. Free, open, unreachable. The one in Sarov states its public plainly: guests of the centre, employees, residents of Sarov. A door that lists who may open it has already told you the whole story of the place. I closed the tabs and started a different chapter.