The map the breathless Logachev presented to Malomuzh showed the radiation reading just beside the plant cafeteria, scribbled hastily in pencil: 2,080 roentgen an hour. “You mean milliroentgen, son,” the Party chief said. “Roentgen,” Logachev said. Logachev’s commander studied the map. He finished one cigarette and then lit another. “We need to evacuate the city,” he said.
