And it's only going to get worse. Or should I say, it's already gotten worse.
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Maybe Yevan would show up in the prequels too given its significance as the site where the first Death Star was destroyed. heck, I imagine a lightsaber fight in the movies would be on Yevan similar to the great Yevan fight between Anakin and Ventress in the 2D Clone Wars (yes, I do disagree with you when you said the 2D animation of the 2003 Clone Wars looked bad, especially since I watched and loved shows like Samauri Jack and Dexter’s Lab as a kid and I have fond memories of them while they share similar animation to the 2003 Clone Wars. But I do like your description of the Clone Wars show in TTL through). I’d think maybe that the Ancient Sith homeworld shown in the Knights of the Old Republic games would probably make an appearance. Maybe as the place where the Separatist leadership is based around.
Actually, one change I would suggest for the Original Trilogy is to have the final battle between the Imperial Resistance and the Republic in Return of the Jedi be over Kashyyik instead of Endor so the Ewoks wouldn’t exist here. It would be much more realistic for the Republic to suffer a defeat at the hands of the Wookies than the Ewoks since they are less advanced than Ewoks but still martialy fomidable. I imagine that each Wookie would have different variations of design to keep Chewbacca distinguished from them.And it would give Chewbacca a pretty epic role as the one rallying Wookie resistance to the Republic while the Leia, Ludwig, Han and Lando lead the Resistance’s battle with the Dark Side and Republic. I guess Boba Fett can survive Tatotine here and persure Han, is eventually being some Stromtropers from Mandalore (you know, since he’s Mandelorean) to fight on the ground on Kashyyik so you would have more formidable Stormtroopers than the usual canon fodder in the other movies I think in Return of the Jedi.But that’s one change to the original trilogy, you’re free to keep it mostly the same if you want.
Actually, what are your thoughts on this Kaiserreich write up we saw in Crown Atomic
Personally, while it sounds good, it’s probably a bit too dark for Return of the Jedi here since it’s kind of important for the OT trilogy to have a happy ending, heroes journey and what not.
That and this write up is more suited towards Crown Atomic than this universe and we already have Kylo in the sequels so Han Solo living is kind of important for him to exist. But I imagine the Battle of Kashyyik being a very tense battle in Return of the Jedi, maybe it would be implied in universe to become more deadly and brutal than Endor, but that won’t be shown in universe in order to still appeal to children and families
What would some the old Sci Fi and Adventure serials that inspired George Lucas in the creation of Star Wars, like Flash Gordon, be like here? I’m also wondering what cultural symbolism the prequels and sequels would have outside of the historical connections like the Rise of Fasicm and the Cold War. I guess Anakin and Obi Wan’s conflict would have similarities to Wilhelmina and Kirill.
I wonder like Star Gate would be like since you have referenced it before. Particularly in your celestial empire campaign in Kaiserreich.
Going back to 1984 discussions from a long time ago, who would Big Brother be if Oceania is descended from Angeloi exiles? I know it’s probably best to keep Big Brother an ambiguous figure since it’s sort of implied in the book that he might only exist as an artificial piece of propaganda to instill loyalty in the populace to a single figure of authority. What should Airstrip One be since it is Britain under Oceania and the setting where the protagonist Wilson lives in.
I assume that Beserker show is a Scandinavian spin off of Doctor Who judging from the name. I imagine that the Berserkers in Scandinavia are pretty pleased about having two popular series that takes the name of them, One a Doctor Who spinoff show and one an manga.That is actually an original idea I developed from a random Reddit post. Originally, the post described an American spinoff of Doctor Who, so I decided I needed that here too.
I wonder if Dounghua and Manuha are popular in Vinland through since it borders Fusang who's also a producer of Donguha and Manuha. Also what is the Berserker order doing right now. I remember they were dissolved in WW1, but the Fylkir came back in the 90s so did they as well when Scandinavia was reunified?Also it’s probably a good idea the Star Wars discussion from the last page as notes on the table of contents. Maybe add the detail about German dialects from page 125 on the table of contents too.
Also I’m wondering, since Kaiserin Wilhelmina is an Angel now, does she still connect with her half brother Kirill like she did in CK2 after he died? I actually liked the relationship they had in CK2 myself.
P.S.
What are your thoughts on the Documentary I shared with you and what themes and cultural symbolism do you think you might include in the Sequel Trilogy since the Prequels are all about the Rise of Fascism while the Original Trilogy is very much the architypical heroes journey?
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The Sith homeworld will definitely make an appearance at some point.
I haven't done much work on the original trilogy, but I'll consider it. I really like the ideas you suggested.
I actually took some inspiration from that.
If you think this is too dark, you're in for a ride when I post the prequel summaries.
They'd be similar to the originals, only there would be themes of resisting tyranny and upholding meritocracy in addition to the fight between the good hero and the evil dictator.
Because it was such a major part of Return of the Celestial Empire, Stargate wouldn't exist here.
I would rather leave the origins of Oceania and the setting of Airstrip One ambiguous to make the Party feel even more all-powerful.
The Berserker is actually still a Roman show, but it's on RBC instead of IBC and it is marketed more to the international audience, particularly Scandinavia. The actual Berserker order would be very happy they are represented in popular culture as good guys again. They'd likely be reestablished as an elite special forces division within the Scandinavian military after the reunification.I assume that Beserker show is a Scandinavian spin off of Doctor Who judging from the name. I imagine that the Berserkers in Scandinavia are pretty pleased about having two popular series that takes the name of them, One a Doctor Who spinoff show and one an manga.
I'll try to find them.
I'd like to leave that ambiguous...for now.
I had family over this weekend, so I haven't had time to watch it yet. But I do remember some of the cultural symbolism of the trilogies. The prequels would be about the fall of meritocracy and the rise of dictatorship (especially fascism but also equalism). The original trilogy would be the hero's journey but also the struggle against an evil empire. The sequels would talk about complacency and the loss of political/social direction after the victory and the resurgence of dictatorship and tyranny as a result, in addition to the role of legacy (as opposed to a true meritocracy) and the succession of new heroes to replace the old. One thing I really liked about the sequels was their emphasis on anybody, not just the Skywalkers or Solos or Kenobis, potentially developing force sensitivity, so that would be a major theme of my sequels.
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Interrogation room - 10:59 AM
Martin sat on one side of the room and waited. Angela, Diana, and Olga entered and sat.
“Herr Wissman, we understand that you had an interesting morning in court,” Angela said, “What is it that you'd like to speak with us about?”
“You're Olga’s partner?” Martin said.
Olga sighed. “For Rod’s sake, Agent Markov. Agent Hansen. You know that. You met her and Agent Frank yesterday.”
“Yesterday?” Martin said.
“Yeah,” Olga said, “Yesterday. Wednesday.”
“Wednesday?” Martin said.
“Are you saying that you don't remember?” Diana said. “What is the last thing you remember?”
“Being shot by my father-in-law,” Martin said, “Tomorrow.”
“You're wasting our time,” Olga said, turning to the door.
“Listen,” Martin said, “I don't know what I experienced. But what if it was a premonition? A glimpse of the future. I mean, you do hear about these kind of things.”
“Yes, we do,” Diana said.
Angela leaned on the table. “Herr Wissman, this shooting aside is there anything else that you remember before that?”
“Um... I was in Constantinople... uh... for a sentencing hearing,” Martin said, “Defendant was a guy I brought in. I was staying at the Strand Hotel like you said.”
“That was three days ago,” Diana said, “Are you telling us that you don't remember anything else? Not the murder of your wife?”
“No,” Martin said.
“Out of the blue, charged with murder,” Olga said, “You wake up one morning and you can't remember a damn thing. Agent Markov, you haven't offered us one scrap of evidence to support your story. Now, we went through a lot in the KGB, so I'm going to listen to anything you have to say, but I will not be lied to. I know when someone’s lying, and you’re not even espionage track.”
“I'm not lying to you,” Martin said, “You're talking to me about key cards. I'm sitting in a jail cell. I don't understand any of this. But I did not... kill Svetlana.”
“If you don't remember, how can you be certain that you didn’t?” Angela said.
State Penitentiary - 11:30 AM
Martin sat on his cell bunk again, watching the spider spin it’s web. He closed his eyes, trying to remember what happened before “tomorrow.” He caught a few fleeting glimpses of memories, but they were also reversed. He saw broken glass un-shattering. Then Svetlana gasped in fear and pain, and a bloody knife rose up. He blinked back to the present and leaned against the wall, despondent and terrified at what he may have done. He looked back at the spider and in a sudden rage crushed it with his shoe.
Visitation room - 1:01 PM
Martin sat on a bench and saw his two daughters, aged 4 and 6, walking toward him. A Russian woman, Trina, their nanny, walked with them. Martin smiled happily and knelt to the floor, his arms open.
“Natasha!” he said. “Karina! Hey, guys! Oh! It's so good to see you.”
Natasha and Karina looked at the floor and stayed where they were. Martin stared at them, confused and hurt.
“Wh...?!” he said. “Come on! Come on, give Daddy a big hug.”
“Hug your father, girls,” Trina said.
Obediently, Natasha and Karina walked over and hugged Martin.
“How are they holding up?” Martin asked.
Trina wiped away tears. “Good. Good, Simon. They want to know when you're coming home.”
Martin looked at his daughters.
“Oh,” he said, “See, um... Daddy has some things that he has to do…very, very important things. That's why I have to be here right now, but then, guess what? I'll be coming home.”
Karina looked at the floor. “Grandpa says they won't let you come home.”
Martin was shocked and saddened. He also felt a small rage building in him. What was Al telling them while he prepared to kill him?
“Oh...” he said.
Another stream of images flashed by. He saw the glass reforming, Svetlana gasping, and a broken strand of pearls bouncing up. He blinked and returned to the present. He looked at Trina.
“Trina, I need you to get something from the apartment, from the girls' room,” he said.
Interrogation room - 3:00 PM
Gisela entered the room and handed a stuffed bear to him. Martin closed the blinds.
“Why didn't you mention this to me before the bail hearing?” Gisela said.
“I hadn't even met you before the bail hearing,” Martin said.
Gisela stares at him, confused. Martin dug through the bear’s stuffing and took out a hidden camera recorder.
“Nanny-cam,” Martin said.
“Herr Wissman, I wish you'd talked to me about this before,” Gisela said, “I really don't know if this is a great idea.”
“This tape may have the murderer on it,” Martin said.
“Whatever happens to be on that tape you know that I am an officer of the court,” Gisela said, “I have to share this with the prosecution.”
“You think I'm guilty?” Martin said. “Let's... let's clear this up right now. Here. My apartment.”
He rewound the camera and looked at the screen. Police investigators were coming and going through the room rapidly.
“That... That's the girls' room and this must be the police investigation,” Martin said, “What time did the … murder occur?”
“The official report has the police arriving at your apartment at 6:20 AM Monday morning,” Gisela said, “Your key card was used at 4:17.”
“Which means the killer is somewhere in-between,” Martin said.
“Wait,” Gisela said, “There's your wife.”
Martin gulped at the sight of Svetlana running her hand tiredly through her hair as she leaned against the door of the girls’ room sometime Sunday evening.
“Um... we must have missed something,” Martin said, “Right there.”
He fast forwarded again through the police footage. Just before the police arrived, he stopped at a figure in the doorway. The figure was familiar.
“Martin, that's you,” Gisela said.
Martin stared at his face on the screen and then put down the camera in shock.
Oof... So unless there's some shenanigans abound, Martin did kill his wife. By the end of this, he may be okay with his inevitable fate at his father-in-law's hands.
I think you mean evil republic.
But yeah those are some good themes for the trilogies, especially for the sequels. Also it would be very ironic for Imperials to be called "Rebel Scum" by Republicans.I actually took some inspiration from that.
That bodes well for the prequels if that's what you mean when got inspiration for the prequels.If you think this is too dark, you're in for a ride when I post the prequel summaries.
But yeah the prequels being darker than the Original Trilogy is sort of a given since it centers on the fall of the Jedi and the Empire to the Dark Side and the rise of a Totalitarian Sith republic.
We could also have Had Abbabdon somewhere there since not only did it appear in that Kaiserreich writeup and the early drafts of Return of the Jedi, I think it showed up in the EU in the Darth Kyrat storyline. Maybe it could replace Mustafar since the Emperor's throne in it is in a volcanic cave (So I see Had Abbadon as sort of a combination between the Sith homeworld, a twisted Corescant and Mustafar). I guess it would be the capital of either the Separatists or the First Order.
Oblivously he is the Darth Lord of the Sith behind everything in all of the Starkrieg trilogies!
Man I miss Darth Jar Jar memes.In all seriousness through, Jar Jar should definitely be removed from the Prequels. Instead, some light moments and humor should instead come from the banter between the characters as I think that would enhance the drama of some of the darker scenes in the trilogy. For example, I picture Owen Lars being a lighthearted Han Solo type character in the Prequels, having some Banter with Anakin in addition to getting along well with Obi Wan.
Midichlorians is another thing that should be removed as well. I mean the Force is meant to invoke aspects of spirituality and mythology, it wasn't meant to be explained in a scientific way since Science is not Star Wars strong suit (through I do remember I friend stating he heard a interpretation that the Jedi bringing science into the force is pretty much representative of the Jedi losing their way of what the Force means, but that probably wasn't the intended reading that George Lucas had.)
I know you had a disscusion of the sycreitzation of the old Uninted Batic State in Victoria 2, but I'm wondering what would the Liovian Commonwealth's syncrectiation culture would be like since it has been decades since the UBS has existed.
I remeber in one of the gameplay updates along timeago, I remember seeing a screenshot of a Die Zeiten article with a blurb talking about the Reich's metric system (in a proganganda sort of way tbh) and mentioned China having the Imperial system, which I assume is similar to the Imperial System of Great Britain and The USA's standard units (throught it seems like to me the US is moving towards the Metric System in the educational curriculum) and I wonder what effects does the Imperial System have on the Chinnese education and economy assuming that Die Zeiten blurb is canon.
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As with much in this AAR recently:
When I mentioned evil empire, I was referring to any totalitarian dictatorship, not really one led by an emperor. That would be weird.I think you mean evil republic.
I think I kept Geonosis and a couple other planets. Not sure if I want to use Abbadon based on how my summaries are going.
Implying he isn't already.Oblivously he is the Darth Lord of the Sith behind everything in all of the Starkrieg trilogies!
Oh, I definitely removed him. Just in a more literal sense.
Yep, midichlorians don't exist. I completely removed them from my summaries.
Basically, the south and west would be full of Germans and Christians, the north would have a lot of Norse, the east a lot of Russians, and the middle the Lithuanians. I don't know exactly what kind of culture developed there, and I still have some writer's block, so I'll have to get back to you on that.
For one, the Chinese Imperial system is not exactly the same as the American one. It's built on native Chinese measurement systems and not British ones. So I guess they use it as well as we Americans use the imperial system. As for the metric system in the Reich, I understand I have been measuring distances in terms of feet and miles lately, so that would be the Reich's imperial system. The situation is much like modern Britain, which uses the imperial system to measure distances and metric for other things.
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State Penitentiary - Wednesday, January 3, 2000, 8:00 AM
Martin woke up on his bunk. He rubbed his head and got up. He looked at the bunk above him. He reached up and felt his face but found no cut. The spider was crawling around again, looking for the best place to build its web. The door slid open, and the guard walked into the cell.
“I'm not going,” Martin said.
“How's that?” the guard said.
“I told you,” Martin said, “This is the day. If I go, I'll get shot. You cannot transfer me.”
“I don't plan to,” the guard said, “Your lawyers want to see you.”
Martin was led into the interrogation room, where his lawyer, Bernard Tufeld, waited for him, talking quietly with Gisela.
“There's my favorite cop,” Bernard said, “Martin, you holding up alright?”
They shook hands.
”Bernard, uh... I've been better,” Martin said.
“We're going to beat this thing,” Bernard said, “Guaranteed. Martin, I have here one of the finest criminal defense specialists in the Reich. I want you to meet...”
“Gisela Wirtz?” Martin said.
“Have we met?” Gisela said.
“We met,” Martin said, “I've been thinking all night about the tape and I don't see you having to turn it over to the prosecution.”
“I'm sorry?” Gisela said.
“I showed you that tape in a good faith effort to clear my name, not as an admission of guilt,” Martin said.
“Um... Herr Wissman, I don't think we've met,” Gisela said.
“Martin, what is all this about a videotape?” Bernard said.
“The... Nanny-cam tape,” Martin said, “That's why you're here, right?”
“I'm here to introduce you to your new attorney,” Bernard said.
“We met yesterday at the bail hearing, Gisela,” Martin said, “Don't you remember?”
“Martin, the bail hearing is set for tomorrow,” Bernard said.
“What day is this?” Martin said. “What... day of the week... is this?”
“Wednesday,” Bernard said.
“Yesterday you told me it was Thursday,” Martin said, “The day before that it was Friday. Wait. It's backwards. Everything's going backwards.”
The lawyers stared at him.
“Martin, I think we should have you speak to someone,” Bernard said, “You're under a hell of a lot of stress. Being locked up in this cesspool really doesn't help.”
“We can have you out of here by tomorrow afternoon,” Gisela said, “The prosecution's case is weak to say the least. They have no physical evidence tying you to the crime scene.”
“Plus, they don't have the key card that was used to access your apartment building,” Bernard said.
“Without it, they've got nothing,” Gisela said.
Prisoner exercise yard - 9:00 AM
Several prisoners played basketball on a court. A large Mongol man noticed Martin walking through the yard. He leaned down and whispered something to a Russian man who was lifting weights nearby. A young Persian man noticed the Russian and walked over to Martin.
“Oh, yeah,” he said, “Somebody likes you, my brother.”
Martin tried to keep walking.
“Come on, man,” the Persian said, “I'm just messing with you. What, got no sense of humor?”
“Do I know you?” Martin said.
“No, you don't know me,” the Persian said, “Damn sure put me in here, though.”
Martin recognized him. “Possession with intent. And concealed weapon.”
“Mm-hmm,” the Persian said, “That concealed weapon was a pipe wrench. I was on my way to my wife’s house to unstick the Pepsi caps from out her garbage disposer, but I told you all that when you brought me in! Concealed weapon added six months to my sentence, man. You remember my name?”
Martin avoided his eyes. “No, I don't remember your name. All I needed to know about you was that you broke the law.”
“I broke the law,” the Persian said, “Well, then, I guess that makes you ‘Baron von Wife Killer.’
Martin turned to face him, angrily. The Persian laughed without humor and walked away. Martin trudged away through the yard. As he passed a table where some prisoners played dominoes, one of them got up and hit him from behind, making him knock the dominoes to the ground. One of the domino players glared at him.
“Yo!” he said. “Pick 'em up you stumbling motherfrakker.”
“Let him be,” another player said.
Reluctantly, Martin knelt and picked up the dominoes. As he got up, he noticed the Russian man standing behind him. He recognized him from the spider web tattoo on one hand.
“Agent Smirnoff?” he said.
Smirnoff drew a blade and slashed him across the face. Martin fell back and screamed in pain. He rolled on the ground as the other prisoners silently walked away.
Interrogation room - 2:00 PM
Martin, the cut still fresh on his face, greeted Olga, Angela, and Diana as they entered. None of them winced at the sight of the cut. Olga cursed in Russian.
“Aw, Perun, Martin,” Olga said, “Your face.”
“It's alright,” Martin said, “Appreciate your coming to see me. Agents Hansen, Frank, I especially wanted to talk to you.”
Angela shook his hand. “It's nice to meet you. I'm sorry it's not under better circumstances.”
“This is the day we meet... something is happening to me... something I need to try to explain to you all,” Martin said, “I'm experiencing things backward in time. Every morning I wake up, it's the day before. For me, yesterday was Thursday, the day before that was Friday, only it's all new to me. Every single morning I wake up, I only remember what's happened the following day.”
“Agent Hansen, would you mind taking a closer look at his injuries, maybe check his scalp?” Olga said.
“I know this all sounds crazy,” Martin said, “But I'm telling you the truth. This cut, for instance. It was on my cheek when I woke up yesterday. I woke up this morning, it wasn't there. But then this afternoon I got cut. I killed a spider in my cell yesterday. First thing this morning, I woke up, it's back again. Because it happened the day before. I haven't killed it yet.”
“Herr Wissman, are you saying that you don't remember the day that your wife was murdered?” Diana said. “I'm talking about two days ago, Monday.”
“No, I don't... remember it, because for me, it hasn't happened yet,” Martin said.
“You do realize that you're not going to be able to prove this, right?” Diana said. “I mean, if, uh... if tomorrow is really the day before today, then we won't have had this conversation.”
“Oh, for crying out loud, Agent Markov,” Olga said.
“It means you're going to have to tell us all over again,” Angela said.
“Yeah, well, uh... make sure I skip that freaking meeting,” Olga said, walking out in disgust.
“Herr Wissman, let's say all this is true,” Diana said, “Why do you think it's happening?”
“I don't know,” Martin said, “There has to be a reason.”
“What reason?” Angela said.
“Something... I'm meant to understand?” Martin said. “Although I don't know what it could be.”
“Maybe you already have the answer,” Angela said.
Angela and Diana left.
Martin’s cell - 3:00 PM
Gisela stood outside Martin’s cell as he opened a thick file delivered through a gap in the door.
“I'd really prefer to stay while you do this, Martin,” she said, “I can take you through the chain of evidence again.”
“I think I've done this before, thank you, ma’am,” Martin said.
Gisela reluctantly left. Martin looked through the file on his wife's murder. The Persian, broom in hand, walked by the cell.
“Mmm-hmm, looking for some loopholes, huh?” he said. “Yeah, man, get yourself out of here. They just praying that you find that one little technicality so they can let you go.”
“I'm not looking for technicalities,” Martin said.
“Well, what are you looking for, brother?” the Persian said.
“The truth,” Martin said.
“The truth?” the Persian said, laughing. “You better stick to the technicalities! The truth is going to keep you in here and make you somebody's lapdog, that's what the truth's going to do. So put on that engineering hat, Casey Jansen, because you've got a whole lot of trains to be pulling...”
He laughed and imitated a train whistle and chugging as he walked away.
“The truth!” he said again.
Breathing heavily, Martin pulled out the photos of the murder. He sobbed as he forced himself to look at the images of his dead wife. As he looked, he again saw images of the glass reforming, blood seeping back into Svetlana and her wounds closing up, the knife rising out of the closing wound and back up into striking position. The hand holding it had a spider web tattooed on. Martin gasped in both pain and realization.
“Agent Smirnoff, of course!” he said.
So was Smirnoff trying to kill him with the knife and just missed the intended spot?
Yeah, he didn't get the kill. Then he decided it was too much trouble to follow through, so he left.
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One of Olga’s safe houses, [REDACTED], Constantinople - Tuesday, January 2, 2000, 8:42 AM
Martin woke up, disoriented, on a couch in a modestly nice house. He pushed aside the sheets and pillow. The TV was on busted muted. He rushed to the remote and unmuted it. A local news channel was showing footage of Martin being taken away in the back of a police car.
“...claims he arrived home from a business trip to discover the body of his wife in their living room,” the reporter said, “Apparently, Wissman is now in seclusion at a friend’s place. Nicaea police are giving no indication whether he is a suspect in the murder or if there are indeed any suspects at this time. However, Channel 9 News has learned police are focusing their investigation on the whereabouts of an electronic key card. The card in question belongs to Martin Wissman. It was used by the killer to enter the apartment building through the garage. Wissman claims no knowledge of the whereabouts of his key card...”
Olga entered the front door, holding two styrofoam cups of coffee. She handed one to Martin.
“Not something you want to wake up to, Agent Markov,” she said.
“...and suggests it may have been stolen,” the reporter continued.
Martin muted the TV again.
“How you feeling?” Olga said.
“Disconnected from reality, but I guess I'd better get used to it,” Martin said, “Oh, um... thank you. I assume you... let me spend the night here, right? Thank you.”
“Glad to help out an old comrade,” Olga said, “Need to put the safe houses to good use. Like I said, no problem.”
Martin began putting on his shoes. “So that makes today... Tuesday, the day after the murder. Agent Kirova, I know who did it now.”
Olga sat and stared at him in surprise. Martin too was a little surprised at himself, given how calm and rational he was.
“You know who killed Svetlana?” Olga said.
“Yeah, Agent Smirnoff,” Martin said, “Makes sense too. That guy was a true believer if I ever saw one.”
“He’s one of ours,” Olga said, “What’s he doing killing Svetlana?”
“Last I heard, he went rogue,” Martin said, “Disobeyed the last orders from headquarters to stand down and surrender. Told me he was going to expose every one of us as hypocrites.”
“Yeah, he’ll need to get in line,” Olga said, “Any distinguishing features?”
“Russian, obviously…early thirties, five-ten, 185 pounds,” Martin said, “He's still got the tattoo of a spiderweb on his left hand.”
“Simon, last night you told me you had no idea who did this,” Olga said, “Now you’re blaming Agent Smirnoff? That madman?”
“Yeah, now I do, trust me,” Martin said, “I mean, you can find him in the Nicaea city lockup. Call them. They can ID him based on what I just told you.”
Olga picked up his phone and called the police. Martin unmuted the TV again. The reporter was now interviewing Al.
“I just want to say my daughter was an exceptional person,” he said, “One who was loved by everyone who knew her.”
“Sir, have the police identified any suspects in your daughter's death?” the reporter said.
“They're not telling us much,” Al said.
“What about rumors your son-in-law is the prime suspect?” the reporter said. “What are your thoughts on that?”
Al began to cry. Martin muted the TV again as Olga walked back to him.
“No person fitting Smirnoff’s description has been processed in the past 36 hours,” Olga said, “I’ve notified our other ex-comrades in the area.”
“He's in there,” Martin said, “He's got to be there.”
“Sorry, Martin, he's not,” Olga said.
“It must be too soon,” Martin said, “He must not get arrested until later today. That's how he could have been with me in lockup on Wednesday.”
“Martin, you have seriously lost me,” Olga said, “If you're trying to admit something, I want you to just come out with it.”
“There's a reason all this is happening,” Martin said, “Maybe I already have the answer.”
“Well, how's that?” Olga said. “Valentin certainly did.”
“There's something in my apartment that you need to see,” Martin said.
Martin’s apartment, Nicaea - 11:18 AM
Olga and Martin entered the very nice and expensive apartment.
“Where is it?” Olga said.
Martin pointed to the girls’ room. “Over there.”
While Olga went to look in the room to the left, Martin slowly walked into the living room. Crime scene investigators had left their marks all over the place. Martin looked down at the shattered coffee table and saw it reforming, while Svetlana rose from the ground, screaming. He was shaken back to the present as Olga entered, carrying the stuffed bear.
“Is this it?” Olga said.
Martin took the bear, fished out the recorder, ejected the tape, and put it in a VCR. He picked up the remote and rewound through the footage.
“My daughters were at their grandparents'... thank god,” Martin said, “Their bedroom door was open with a clear view of the front hallway. The nanny-cam is motion-activated so it should have caught anyone coming in or out of the house.”
Olga stopped the tape when Martin appeared in the door.
“There I am,” Martin said, “Nobody else on the tape between my wife and the police. I don't understand it.”
“I'd say this makes you look more innocent than guilty,” Olga said, “There’s a bright reflection in the mirror…the sun. Your wife comes home before the murderer enters the building AT 4:17 AM. Her time of death is fixed shortly after that, well before sunrise. You came home later... when the sun was already up.”
“The killer turned off the tape,” Martin said.
“The only question is how?” Olga said.
“Smirnoff wasn’t espionage track,” Martin said, “He wouldn’t have had access to any jamming equipment or tape erasers. He was assassination, like you. He would be trained to find the best way to kill his target without leaving a trail. Then he would frame someone, like me. He’s good at finding small details to accomplish that.”
“What are you getting at?” Olga said.
“There's a remote control for the nanny-cam,” Martin said, “It's in a drawer by the front door but nobody else knew about it except for Svetlana and me.”
“Are you sure about that?” Olga said.
Trina’s house - 12:36 PM
Martin and Olga knocked on the door of the small run-down house.
“Guess Trina didn’t get much luck when the KGB disbanded,” Martin said
“She was a low-level informant, not assassins like us,” Olga said.
Martin knocked again. “Trina, open up!”
“Frak it, this is taking too long.” Olga kicked down the door and stormed inside.
“It’s Agent Kirova!” she shouted. “I know you’re in there, Trina! I saw your curtains move!”
Trina appeared from behind a couch and put down her shotgun.
“Agents Kirova, Markov,” she said, “What’s going on?”
“Trina, you knew about the Nanny-cam, didn't you?” Martin said. “You told Smirnoff about it. You must have given him my key card, too.”
“Markov, I-I-I wasn't even there that night,” Trina said.
Olga drew her gun. “I know you’re lying. And you know I never hesitated to shoot a traitor.”
“But I wasn’t there!” Trina repeated.
“Wrong answer,” Olga said, “First thing you're supposed to say is, what nanny-cam?”
In seconds, she was in front of Trina, and in another second, she had grabbed the shotgun out of her hands, and in another, she had jumped over the couch and punched Smirnoff, who lurked behind it with a pistol. He fell to the floor, and Olga quickly put him in a headlock, forcing the gun out of his hand. She grabbed his tattooed hand and held it up to Martin.
“That’s him,” Martin said.
Trina sobbed hysterically. “I'm so sorry, Agent Markov. He said he'd kill me. He made me give him your key card.”
Martin didn’t look at her. He continued staring at Smirnoff.
Nicaea Police Department - 1:14 PM
Martin watched through a window as Olga interviewed Smirnoff, occasionally punching him, shouting Russian profanities, and waving her gun around. She walked out and joined Martin.
“He’s using the alias Jonathan Becker,” Olga said, “One of my old aliases. Don't ask. Under that name, he’s wanted in four provinces and several dozen states for assault, murder, drug trafficking, the usual shenanigans. He's gotten sloppy.”
“We'll have Trina's testimony against him,” Martin said.
“Or maybe we won’t,” Olga said, “He's got her so scared we can't count on her.”
“Olga, let me go in and talk to him,” Martin said.
“Well, he says he only wants to talk to you,” Olga said.
“Go figure,” Martin said.
He entered the interrogation room and sat in front of Smirnoff.
“Nice seeing you again, Agent Smirnoff,” Martin said, “Last time I saw you, you were leading an RAF cell, the Left Hand right? Then I heard you went rogue. Now for my question: why?”
Smirnoff sighed. “Damn it, Comrade Markov, you didn’t make second in our class for that.”
“Why?” Martin repeated.
“You seriously don’t know?” Smirnoff said. “You know who I am and you can’t figure it out?”
“Well, the KGB sent out one last order after Parnu happened,” Martin said, “Demobilize and surrender to the Romans.”
“Yeah, those cowards sold us out,” Smirnoff said, “Betrayed the revolution.”
“We’re KGB,” Martin said, “We’re supposed to follow our orders, even if they’re terrible.”
“That’s what got the KGB destroyed!” Smirnoff said. “Issuing orders only serving the enemy. When we could’ve struck back against the Romans, we instead surrendered!”
“The war’s over, Smirnoff,” Martin said, “There’s no fighting back now.”
“For you there isn’t, traitor,” Smirnoff said, “I’m still loyal to the KGB and the revolution.”
“The KGB’s gone, and the revolution’s dead,” Martin said, “If it was ever alive to begin with.”
“You betrayed your country!” Smirnoff said.
“I was following orders!” Martin said.
“Illegal orders!” Smirnoff said.
“They came from Molotov himself, Rod rest his soul!” Martin said. “I’ve been trying to move on with my life, unlike you, Smirnoff. I didn’t want to fight and kill anymore, especially for a country that no longer existed and an ideology that might never have worked to begin with. I wanted to settle down and do something truly productive with my life. Start a family, give back to the community, build a life instead of destroying it. And for this, you kill Svetlana?! You take away my dignity, my reputation, my life, the woman I love, because you aren’t willing to admit the war is over?!”
“You know, you can’t really prove this without revealing you’re also KGB,” Smirnoff said, “You could be recording this, I don’t care. To prove I did this and explain my motive, you’d have to tell the court you’re KGB and lose the cover the Athanatoi gave you. You’ll lose the trust the community gave you. They’ll exile you, maybe even put you on trial. You know full well what I’m talking about. We’re both assassination track, Comrade Markov. We don’t go down easily.”
“I tell you what we'll do,” Martin said, “This isn’t Russia. We do things differently in the Reich. You’re going to be convicted of my wife's murder one way or another. Plead out now and I'll recommend a reduced sentence. Get you into a rehabilitation program. Maybe deportation to Russia.”
“Rehabilitation?” Smirnoff said. “I’d rather die in prison than go to a brainwashing camp. You won’t turn me into a capitalist dog.”
Martin got up and left the room. Outside, Olga waited with two police officers.
“I'm sorry, Martin,” Olga said, “I tried to talk them out of it, but they think they have a case.”
“Sir, turn around, please,” one officer said.
Martin turned around and held back his hands, resigned to his fate.
“Officer Martin Wissman, you are under arrest for the murder of Svetlana Vorshilova,” the other officer said, “You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney.”
They led him away.
Strand Hotel, Constantinople - Monday, January 1, 2000, 2:07 AM
Martin suddenly shook awake and rubbed his face. He looked around the room. Remains of room service and stuff from the New Year’s party that just ended sat near the bed. The clock read 2:08. Martin immediately picked up the phone and dialed.
“Come on, honey, pick up,” he said.
The ringing continued.
“Hey,” Svetlana’s answering machine said, “This is the Wissman residence, home of Martin, Svetlana, Karina and Natasha. We can't come to the phone right now. Please leave a message.”
“Honey, this is Martin,” he said, “Pick up the phone. Svetlana, pick up the phone. Pick up the bloody phone!”
He realized it wasn’t 4:00 yet.
“Svetlana, please, when you get this, get out of the apartment, go to your parents' house and wait for me to call,” Martin said, “I'm on my way back to the city.”
He quickly got dressed, got his keys, and ran out of the room.
Olga’s safe house - 2:30
Martin ran out of his car and pounded on the door to Olga’s safe house. Olga, still in pajamas but with a pistol in her hands, opened the door.
“Agent Kirova, I need your help,” Martin said.
“Agent Markov?” Olga said.
Martin pushed past her and shut the door behind him.
“Svetlana's going to be murdered inside of two hours,” he said.
“Svetlana?” Olga said.
“I called the police but I can't tell if they thought I was a crank,” Martin said, “I’ve alerted the other agents in the area, but I don’t think they’ll arrive in time. I need you to call them and the cops again. Now, I can describe the suspect, his name, motive, everything.”
“Well, how do you know all this?” Olga said.
“I haven't got time to explain it,” Martin said, “You wouldn't believe it anyway.”
“Now, Simon, you see, now, that's a bad sign because it's two-something in the morning,” Olga said, “I haven't seen you in three years, and last I heard you still loved to drink. And it’s New Year’s Day. You got to give me something more to go on.”
“This is all happening for a reason,” Martin said, “I...I'm being given a second chance.”
“A second chance to do what?” Olga said.
“To save my wife,” Martin said, “And to prove the war is over.”
“And where’s this coming from?” Olga said.
“No time to explain,” Martin said, “Well, for you, that is. I’ve already explained this to you, Agent Hansen, and Agent Frank about three times on Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday.”
“What do you mean, you’re somehow experiencing things backwards in time?” Olga said.
“The first time you didn’t immediately dismiss me as a crank,” Martin said, “From your point of view and mine. But we don’t have much time. We can save Svetlana.”
Olga picked up her phone. “Alright. I’ll call them. You go over to your place first.”
Martin ran back out and back into his car. He drove rapidly on wet streets through the dark city before arriving at his apartment building in Nicaea. Several police cars sat out front. Panicking, Martin ran upstairs and into his apartment. He was relieved to see everything looked fine. Two police officers, the same ones who arrested him tomorrow, ironically, stood in the living room.
“You got here in time,” Martin said.
“Are you Martin Wissman?” the first officer said.
“Yes,” Martin said.
He looked around the apartment.
“Svetlana?” he said.
“There's nobody here,” the second officer said, “We checked. What exactly are we looking for?”
“My wife's going to be attacked here tonight,” Martin said, “It happens... the killer's going to use my key card to enter at 4:17.”
“It's 4:20 now,” the first officer said.
“I don't understand,” Martin said, “Where is she?”
“Tell you what,” the officer said, “We'll sweep through the building... keep our eyes peeled. We're a phone call away if you need us.”
They left. Martin took out his phone and dialed Al’s number.
“Come on!” he said.
“Hello?” Al said.
“Al, it's Martin,” Martin said.
“Martin?” Al said. “What time is it?”
“Al, is-is Svetlana there?” Martin said.
“No, the kids are here,” Al said, “Svetlana left hours ago. Isn’t she home yet?”
“Not really,” Martin said.
He heard someone at the door.
“I’ll call you back,” he said, hanging up.
He found his old KGB-issued pistol in a safe in the closet and loaded it. He stood in front of the door and waited. It opened, and his hand tightened around the gun. Svetlana walked in and stared at him.
“Martin?” Svetlana said. “Why do you have a gun in your hand?”
Martin put down the gun and hugged her tightly.
“Honey, why aren't you in Tsargrad?” Svetlana said. “What the…"
“Where have you been?” Martin said.
“I-I got a flat on the way back from my dad’s…honey, you're really scaring me,” Svetlana said, “What's wrong?”
“It’s Agent Smirnoff,” Martin said, “He wants to kill you. We have to get out of here right now.”
“What?!” Svetlana said.
He turned to lead her out of the apartment, but the doorknob was turning again.
“Get in the bedroom, lock the door,” Martin whispered, “You call the cops and don't come out till I say it's over.”
She immediately ran into the bedroom. He turned off the light and locked the door behind her. Martin then cautiously made his way back to the front door, which was half open. Smirnoff was nowhere in sight. He slowly walked to the girls’ bedroom. It was empty. He turned just in time to see Smirnoff behind him, his pistol aimed at him. Martin ducked just as Smirnoff fired, hitting the wall behind him. Remembering his training, Martin tackled Smirnoff and wrestled the gun away from him. They stumbled into the kitchen, where they continued struggling. Smirnoff gained the upper hand, though, and punched him with an unexpectedly free hand. Martin fell to the ground, and Smirnoff viciously kicked him as he tried crawling for his gun. Meanwhile, Svetlana had just run out of the bedroom. She screamed.
“Oh my gods, Simon!” she said.
Smirnoff grabbed a knife from the kitchen and ran toward Svetlana. Martin continued crawling toward his gun, but he was too slow. Smirnoff grabbed Svetlana and broke her necklace. The pearls fell as he knocked her to the floor, shattering the glass coffee table. She screamed as Smirnoff prepared to slash her throat.
“SIMON!” Svetlana shouted.
“NO!” Martin shouted.
A shot rang out, and Smirnoff released Svetlana, staggering back to reveal he had been shot in the leg. Olga entered, her gun drawn. Angela and Diana stood behind her.
“That was a warning shot, Smirnoff,” Olga said, “The next one goes for your head, traitor.”
“I expected better from you, Firebird,” Smirnoff said, “But it turns out you’re just another traitor like Markov here.”
“You forgot,” Olga said, “I’m not the Firebird anymore.”
Smirnoff threw his knife at Olga, but Martin, using the last of his strength, hurled himself into its path just as Angela and Diana opened fire, hitting Smirnoff twice in the chest. The knife burrowed itself just above Martin’s stomach. He knew it was a fatal wound. Both Smirnoff and Martin fell to the ground. Angela ran over to Smirnoff’s side.
“He’s dead,” she said.
She and Diana then went over to Martin and felt for a pulse. Martin gasped for air, struggling to stay conscious even as he felt his body shutting down. Sobbing, Svetlana ran over to him, grasping his hand and holding it close to her.
“No,” she said, “Please no!”
“I’m sorry, Svetlana,” Martin said, “This…shouldn’t have…happened.”
“You said something about a second chance,” Olga said, “Was this it?”
“I guess it is,” Martin said.
As his vision faded away, Martin looked at Angela’s watch. It stopped at 4:39:52 on January 1. As everything faded into nothingness, the last thing he saw was it ticking forward again.
“The war is over,” Martin said, “Thank Rod it’s over.”
X-Division, Constantinople - 8:00 AM
Angela and Diana sat in the X-Division office. Angela was reading Martin’s file, while Diana stared at Anders’ desk nameplate thoughtfully. Just as she was about to put it away in the middle desk drawer, she and Angela heard voices cheerfully making their way down the hall.
“So this is where the bad kids are banished to,” one agent said.
“Put me down here, I’d probably cook up a lot of crazy ideas too,” the other agent said.
They left. Diana got up and walked into the hallway just as they rounded the corner. She glared at them, and they ran back the way they came. She turned around and saw Olga standing there, a cup of coffee in her hand.
“Morning,” Olga said.
“Morning,” Diana said.
“Morning,” Angela muttered.
“Those kids, I bet they were just curious,” Olga said.
“We’re not here to be curiosities, Agent Kirova,” Angela said, “We’re here to work. The break was long enough.”
“I am too, agents,” Olga said, “I’ve been here during the break. Last night, before Martin, I went through every case in the cabinets.”
“Do you have any questions?” Diana said.
“Just a few,” Olga said, “Maybe you could first tell me where your areas are and…uh…where mine’s going to be.”
Diana pointed to Anders’ desk. “Don’t even think about sitting there.”
Angela pointed at her desk and Diana’s. “Or there.”
“This is our office, Agent Kirova,” Diana said, “You will only be here temporarily.”
“So, where to we get started?” Olga said.
Diana picked up a large stack of files and dropped it in front of Olga’s feet. “There. Everything we have on the Martin Wissman case and related cases. And by the way, I’ve done some research of my own. Martin Wissman is actually Simon Markov, ex-KGB. Your colleague during the war. I think we can begin by going over exactly how much you—”
“Actually,” Angela said, “Let’s save that for this afternoon, after Sentinel. I need to catch the new kid up on what we’ve been doing recently.”
She started the slide projector, and Olga, pushing the stack of files aside, sat down. The first slide was of Merkmallen’s ancient fragment.
“Last year, an archaeologist named Solomon Merkmallen found an ancient artifact with writing in an unknown script on it,” Angela said, “Several days later, he was killed, as was the man he was supposed to meet.”
The next slide showed a picture of Dr. Bernhard. “This is his killer. He had a grudge against Merkmallen because Merkmallen played fast and loose with the scientific method.”
The next slide was a picture Angela took of the African spaceship. “Investigating further, I found this, a spaceship predating human civilization, or at least that we know of.”
“That we know of?” Olga said.
“Inside the ship, Di and I found more fragments, tablets,” Angela said, “A message from a past civilization of humanity to their descendants, us. A reminder of who we once were.”
“Who we once were?” Olga said.
“Di and I made an approximate translation of the writing, using various credible resources,” Angela continued, “We concluded human civilization is much older than we believe it is, and it was spacefaring millennia ago. It also seems to have been destroyed by an unknown enemy in a big galactic war.”
“Holy Rod,” Olga said, “Where is all this coming from?”
Angela pointed to the ship.
“And if I were to go there now?” Olga said.
“My friend there tells me it’s fallen into the ocean,” Angela said, “We can’t retrieve it without diving equipment. Plus we need to fill out the paperwork. Any questions?”
“How the yebat does this have anything to do with Agent Markov?” Olga said.
“That’s the sixty-four thousand mark question,” Diana said, “You see, X-Division deals with unexplained cases of all kinds, of which Agent Markov’s technically is.”
“I’ve seen some crazy stuff in the last fifteen years, but this…” Olga said. “This is just insane. Do you have any other hard evidence?”
“Yeah, my friend has the tablets,” Angela said, “She’s stored them in a secure location.”
“And do those tablets help us with this case?” Olga said.
“Well, there isn’t much of a case to investigate,” Diana said, “One of your old KGB buddies suddenly shows up at your doorstep, claiming his wife’s about to be killed by another assassin, then he dies at the hands of said assassin, who also dies. Also said something about experiencing the next few days but in reverse.”
“The short answer is no,” Angela said, “The long answer is: none of this makes sense. We found tablets from some ancient human civilization, and now we’re dealing with a guy whose days regressed backwards. Just another day at X-Division. The point is, weirdness is our specialty.”
“I have to admit, girls, I’m at a loss,” Olga said.
Angela and Diana smiled at each other and then high-fived. Olga rolled her eyes.
“This is payback for Vienna, right?” Olga said.
“That’s a good place to start,” Diana said, “Aside from killing you.”
“No, Di, we’re not going to kill her,” Angela said.
Olga sighed. “So…what do we do now?”
“Now, I’m going to complete my lecture, and then we’ll head over to Adrianople, where I will electrocute a cadaver,” Angela said.
“I don’t even want to know,” Olga said.
“Too bad,” Diana said.
It's not the end Martin wanted, but at least his name is clear and the truth of the case is known.
Soul Eater, Part 1
Aswan, Upper Aegyptus - December 6, 1999, 9:00 PM
It was a dark and stormy night, as cliched as that was. A man drove a car, an old black 1967 Chevy Impala, along a desert road. He stopped in front of a small house and got out of the car. Leaving the headlights on, he walked up to the porch, a gun in his hand. On the front door was a circular symbol with a cross in the middle of it. The man went inside. Another man, Paul Hangemuhl, recognized him.
“Maria!” he shouted.
His wife, Maria, also saw him. She cursed in Lithuanian.
“No!” she said. “Please!”
In a doorway, a creature stood, covered in shadows. It was vaguely shaped like a man, but its features were distorted, and its hair was long and unkempt. The man looked into the haunted eyes of the creature.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
He fired three shots into the creature, and it fell to the floor. Maria cried out in horror and ran to her husband’s arms. Paul held her as she sobbed. Anders walked back out of the house and got back into his car. He set the gun down on the seat next to him. He stared at the gun and then looked up at the house. Then he drove away.
January 13, 2000, 9:00 AM
Olga drove a rental car along the same desert road. She passed a sign welcoming her to Aswan. She stopped in front of the constable’s office and walked inside, where the constable, a man in his early forties, watched her suspiciously.
“You must be Special Agent Kirova,” he said, “I'm Constable Frey. Just call me Kurt.”
They shook hands.
“I appreciate the help, Kurt,” Olga said.
“Shame to have you fly all the way down here on a Saturday,” Kurt said, “Hate to say you're wasting your time.”
“Not if you confirm what you told me before,” Olga said.
“Yes, ma’am,” Kurt said, “Agent Humboldt was here, alright... last November.”
He opened a file cabinet.
“You said on the phone he was investigating a missing woman, Maria Hangemuhl,” Olga said.
“Well, she wasn't exactly missing,” Kurt said, “He wasn't exactly investigating, either.”
“I'm not following you,” Olga said.
“It was a false report,” Kurt said, “Maria never even left the house. The only reason Agent Humboldt found out about it was because Maria's sister got all excited about nothing. There. See for yourself.”
He handed Olga a file.
“Say, I've got some hot coffee and a lietuva here if you're interested,” he said.
“I’m good,” Olga said.
“You know, if you don't mind me asking, Agent Kirova, what's your interest?” Kurt said, pouring a cup of coffee. “I mean, I was actually surprised one Athanatos gave this case a thought.”
“It's not so much the case as it is the agent,” Olga said, “Humboldt disappeared last month.”
“Sorry to hear that,” Kurt said, “I still don't see what that has to do with us.”
“Did Agent Humboldt have a personal connection here, something that might not be included in your report?” Olga said.
“No, I don't think he'd ever been to this part of Aegyptus before, as far as I know,” Kurt said.
“I have phone records showing Agent Humboldt came back the week before he disappeared,” Olga said.
“What for?” Kurt said.
“That's what I want to know,” Olga said, “It's my job to find him. Or else his girlfriend and cousin will try to kill me. Again.”
Hangemuhl residence - 10:00 AM
Paul answered the door and saw Kurt and Olga.
“Kurt?” Paul said.
“Paul, this is Agent Kirova from the Athanatoi,” Kurt said, “She'd like to ask you and Maria some questions.”
Paul cursed in Lithuanian but reluctantly let them in.
“Maria, can you come out here a minute?” he said
Maria, a frail and sickly woman, walked into the room.
“This is an Athanatoi agent,” Paul said, “She wants to ask a few questions. What's this about?”
“My colleague, Anders Humboldt, questioned you last November and in December,” Olga said.
“Come on, Kurt, this again?” Paul said. “Look, this was a personal matter that's been blown way out of proportion.”
“He's not investigating you, Paul,” Kurt said, “He's investigating Agent Humboldt.”
“If you could tell me what you and Agent Humboldt talked about…” Olga said.
December 6, 1999, 5:00 PM
Anders sat in front of Paul and Maria. As he asked his questions, Anders pressed his fingers against the bridge of his nose, wincing as if he was in pain.
“You told your sister you were going to disappear, Frau Hangemuhl,” Anders said, “Tonight.”
Kurt stood off to the side, watching them.
“I told you already,” Paul said, “We had a fight, she was going to leave, not disappear.”
“I'm talking to Maria,” Anders said.
Kurt shifted uncomfortably. Anders focused on Maria.
“Frau Hangemuhl?” he said.
“What he said,” Maria said, “My sister lives in Sinai. I was going to her place... I didn't want her to worry.”
“You told your sister a story, a story you were afraid of?” Anders said.
“This is crazy,” Paul said, “There is no crime here!”
“I don't think you were going anywhere tonight, Frau Hangemuhl,” Anders said, “I think someone or something was coming here. And I think maybe it still is.”
Maria didn’t look at Anders.
“We had a fight,” Paul said, “We patched things up and that was the end of it.”
January 13, 2000, 10:00 AM
“The constable’s report says Agent Humboldt spoke to you on December 6th,” Olga said.
“Yeah, I-I guess so,” Maria said.
“Did you see Agent Humboldt again that night?” Olga said.
“No, he never came back,” Paul said.
“According to his cell phone records, he did,” Olga said, “To this area, anyway.”
She walked over to a large medical machine.
“What’s this, a dialysis machine?” Olga said.
“My wife suffers from end-stage renal failure,” Paul said, “She's a very sick woman.”
Olga nodded and looked down.
“Anything else?” Paul said.
“One thing,” Olga said, “This someone or something Agent Humboldt said might be coming?”
“I just told my sister I was afraid of the stories,” Maria said, “That's all, I didn't mean…"
“Let me ask you something, Agent Kirova,” Paul said, “Was this Agent Humboldt sick? Sick in the head, I mean? Is that why you're checking into this?”
“Possibly,” Olga said, “Though not what you’d expect. What stories, Herr Hangemuhl?”
“A folk legend about a creature who lives out in the woods,” Paul said, “Brought here by Lithuanian settlers centuries ago. I’ve heard these stories since I was a kid. So your colleague twisted it into a theory that she was going to disappear, alright 'cause this creature was coming to eat her.”
“Eat her?” Olga said.
“Alive,” Paul said.
A minute later, Olga and Kurt walked back outside to Kurt’s truck.
“Like I said, Agent Kirova, I hate to waste your Saturday,” Kurt said.
“The Hangemuhls own a gun, Kurt?” Olga said.
“No, I don't think so, why?” Kurt said.
“I saw three holes plastered over in their living room wall,” Olga said.
“Gunshots?” Kurt said.
“Possibly,” Olga said.
“You want to go back and ask ‘em?” Kurt said.
“No,” Olga said.
Anders’ apartment - 2:18 PM
Olga picked the lock and entered Anders’ abandoned apartment. She stared searching through the drawers. A light coating of dust covered the desk, and there were a few spiderwebs under the table. She fed the fish way too much food. She looked through books in athletic shoe boxes and Anders’ large umbrella collection. Nobody had taken out the trash, however. She sifted through it anyways, finding nothing. Finally, she looked under the kitchen sink and pulled down a small pistol that was taped up underneath the basin.
Cemetery, Aswan
Kurt supervised as a backhoe dug up a section of grass in a cemetery. Paul got out of his car and ran over to Kurt.
“Kurt, they told me you were out here,” Paul said, “I just can't believe it. Is it true?”
“That's what I'm here to find out,” Kurt said.
The backhoe continued uncovering the grassy area. In the process, it uncovered a circle of white stones with a cross in the middle.
Do you have a link to that post still? I'd kind of like to see that.That is actually an original idea I developed from a random Reddit post. Originally, the post described an American spinoff of Doctor Who, so I decided I needed that here too.
Also I don't mean to be rude, but when is the next cultural update coming out for pop culture? We sort of jumped back into the story-archs a bit suddenly tbh but then again we did have several cultural updates for a while so I'm okay with this break between them.
What was education like in the Occupied Territories under Soviet rule and Angeloi rule in WW2? I ask this because I remember one update in the End of History storyarch showed snipets of Angeloi education in a flashbacks synchronized with the Soviet conquest of Vienna, so I'm wondering how would Angeloi education would be compared and contrasted with Soviet education?
Would a cult of personality had form around Markos Angelos in the Imperium Romanum during WW2 since while the Imperium it self lasted five years, Markos was influential since his chancellorship began in 1933, especially with the propaganda films by Leni Riefenstahl (who I see still exists judging from the Speer bio). Also I'm wondering what was the process of the Angeloi from simply an authoritarian state (with a slight separation between civilian life and the government) in the beginning of WW2 to a full blown Totalitarian dictatorship by the end of the war? Also what was the Angeloi economy like in WW2 in terms of functions and workings?
What was life like for Russians in the Soviet Union during WW3 and what was it like for the Russians living in Tsarit Russia when they returned to a devastated Russia?
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I can't find the link, and I can't find the post anymore. I do remember it being on the Star Trek subreddit, but it's not showing up there. It's very similar to the final product in the Doctor Who summaries, only it's an American production aired on ABC. I think that's where I also got the idea for Patrick Stewart to be the Doctor.
Around 2001-2002. That's when I'll be posting the next couple of Star Trek/Doctor Who summaries as well as summaries for The West Wing and The Office.
Angeloi education would be thoroughly politicized and controlled by the state, like in Nazi Germany. Children would be taught to hate immigrants, minorities, and other political enemies. They'd learn how to use a gun, set up political organizations, and report on their parents for subversion and dissent. Above all, they would have to pledge their undying loyalty to Markos Angelos and the Angeloi.
Soviet education would also be politicized and controlled by the state. The Soviet curriculum would focus more on teaching children important trades but also the maths and sciences. History class would include harsh criticism of the Reich's past and portray religion in a very negative light (if portrayed at all). Deromanization would be taught as a natural progression of history and science, with all classes dedicated to condemnation of the Reich. Students would be organized into political groups and encouraged to report on their parents for subversion and capitalism. They would pledge their loyalty to the Party first and then their Occupied Territory.
There sort of was a cult of personality. Angelos had been politically active since the end of World War I, giving him enough time to promote his image. The Angeloi groups he organized were embedded in all layers of society, giving him the image of widespread public support (actual public support was probably around 35-40% of the population). As detailed in the last few chapters of Victoria 2 and the first few of HOI3, Angelos slowly repealed some laws and passed his own by strong-arming the Diet and intimidating the cabinet, using the young Kaiser Otto as a figurehead. By the time the war began, he had entrenched his power, and the Angeloi organizations had peacefully taken over many local governments and military units. As the war continued, Angelos solidified his power by purging Loyalists and disloyal Angeloi (some would rather want themselves in charge than Angelos). He transitioned the Angeloi organizations into a secret police to crack down on the Resistance and declared martial law in the territories he controlled. By the end of the war, as the Angeloi economy collapsed, he imposed harsh rations and other economic restrictions in a desperate attempt to keep what's left of his military functioning.
Imagine if you will the average Russian before the war. The system is corrupt. The economy doesn't work, law enforcement "disappears" people for even the slightest mistake, the KGB is on every corner, the government doesn't care, and rations are insufficient to feed one's family. But the average Russian's been long convinced there is no alternative to this hellhole or that the Reich is just as bad. So they put up with this rotten structure. Until it's kicked in. The Romans come in and blow the whole thing up. Cities are bombed, villages are torched (by the Soviet Army), and thousands of combat-age men are killed. The government completely collapses. The economy crumbles. The KGB disappears. Now the average Russian is free. Too free, that is. There is no authority, no hierarchy, no order. There is rampant looting and crime. Cities burn. Hundreds are killed every month. Farms are torched and raided. The Roman occupation forces try to install order, but it's hard. They manage to stabilize Russia by the end of the decade. But it's only slightly better than the Soviet dictatorship. Although the government is now meritocratically chosen, examiners are routinely intimidated into casting points for the candidate with the most money to hire intimidators, or points are switched or invalidated because the organization in charge of counting them is loyal to one candidate. The average Russian can now buy better things, but they're always very expensive and out of stock, and the economy crashes every few years. The government always defaults on its debts, so nobody wants to invest, keeping the country poor. If they can, the average Russian uses it to immigrate to the Reich as soon as possible. If they have the money and time, they go through legal channels, but if they don't, they just run over the border, sometimes with the help of smugglers. Younger Russians turn to gangs and cartels to give their lives meaning and order, and local governments don't stop them because they're already in the gangs' and cartels' pockets. Despite this hardship, the average Russian still thinks life is a little better than it was under the Soviets. Because they at least have freedom to do what they want now, and they know the Reich is better than this and is doing everything it can to help.
As for the Scandinavian Russians, the lower and middle class Russians stayed in Scandinavia. The upper class moved back to buy up the now very cheap land and businesses at home and to invest in the government. They're now effectively oligarchs ruling over neo-feudal fiefs stretching for miles through the countryside. The old nobility returned to their old lands. The farmers living there were either kicked out or forced to pay rent. For the average Russian who can't afford to pay a smuggler to flee to the Reich, working as a servant to a Tsarist oligarch or noble is the only alternative.
Soul Eater, Part 2
Firearms Toolmark Unit, Omar Mukhtar Building, Constantinople - 4:41 PM
Olga looked at the results of the tests he had Agent Raum run on Anders’ gun. As she read them, Erich walked in.
“Were you aware your nephew carried a second weapon, a Walther PPK?” Olga said.
“Yeah, in an ankle holster,” Erich said, “My daughter gave it to him as a gift after she decided she didn’t need it.”
“I found it hidden under his sink,” Olga said, “The clip was three rounds shy.”
“What's this about?” Erich said.
“Three shots were fired in a house where Humboldt investigated a case last December,” Olga said, “He never filed a report on the case or the discharge of his weapon. Do you know any reason why?”
“If Anders did that, he would've reported it,” Erich said.
“Humboldt submitted case reports, all right but they indicate he was here in Tsargrad on days his cell phone records prove he was in Upper Aegyptus,” Olga said.
“Are you calling my nephew a liar?” Erich said.
Olga pointed at the computer screen. “This is the muzzle of his pistol. You see that there?”
“It's blowback,” Erich said.
“Macrospatter of dried blood in a semi-circular pattern,” Olga said, “Which indicates Humboldt fired close-range at something or someone.”
“I've heard enough,” Erich said, leaving the room.
“Where are you going?” Olga said.
“It's where you're going, Agent Kirova,” Erich said, “You're trying to build a case that what? Humboldt killed a man and then made himself disappear? That's not what happened. I told you before, he was abducted. I saw it!”
“Agent Humboldt signed falsified case reports,” Olga said.
“Oh, come on, Olga, this isn't about Humboldt, it's about you!” Erich said. “Your career. Vienna. You give the Athanatoi a narrative for Humboldt’s disappearance, you're off the X-Division, have your record cleaned up, and back on the fast-track for promotion, with some payback for Vienna thrown in for good measure.”
“I'm just trying to find the truth,” Olga said.
“You want the truth?” Erich said. “Then ask my daughter!”
“I can't do that,” Olga said.
“Why not?” Erich said.
“Because she... she signed those case reports, too,” Olga said, “And Agent Frank.”
Erich looked at the file. “You take that story to Professional Review, the accusation alone could cost Angie and Di their jobs.”
“I'm not taking it to Professional Review,” Olga said, “I'm taking it to you.”
Outside Aswan - 5:00 PM
Kurt, Paul, and several other men, some with hunting dogs, approached an old cabin sitting on the top of a dune. They lined up in front of the house.
“You have two minutes to bring it outside!” Kurt shouted. “Then we're coming in to get it!”
An old woman, dressed simply, appeared at the door.
“Where is it?” Kurt demanded.
The woman cursed in Lithuanian. “It's dead. You know that. Dead and buried.”
“It's here,” Kurt said, “We've come for it.”
“You lied to us!” Paul said.
Everybody looked over the dune, to the sands behind the house. The creature, groaning desperately, ran past as fast as it could in the sand. The men and dogs chased after it. Despite having a head start, the creature stumbled on a patch of loose sand and fell. The men threw a net over it and dragged it back to their trucks as it groaned in fear and pain.
“Please, don’t!” the old woman said. “Don't do this! Don't do this to him!”
They ignored her as they chained it to the back of a truck and drove away.
Kurt’s office - 7:48 PM
Olga and Erich entered the station and walked up to Kurt’s desk.
“Back again?” Kurt said.
“This is Assistant Director Hansen,” Olga said, “We flew back down here when we couldn't reach you on the phone.”
“Yeah, sorry about that,” Kurt said, “I went fishing on the Nile and turned off my radio. So. You find something?”
“You might say that,” Olga said.
Erich handed Kurt a paper. “You filed this death certificate at the county seat, constable. We're hoping you might be able to tell us something about it.”
“Yeah,” Kurt said, “Yeah, last fall. An unidentified transient. Local woman found the body on the edge of the desert.”
“You got no suspects?” Olga said. “No motive?”
“No, why?” Kurt said.
“You get a lot of shootings here?” Olga said. “That why you failed to mention this one, Kurt?”
“What are you insinuating?” Kurt said.
“The body was found dumped outside this woman's cabin on December 7, the morning after Humboldt saw the Hangemuhls,” Olga said.
“Okay, so I didn't make the connection,” Kurt said, “So what?”
“Three rounds were missing from Humboldt’s weapon,” Olga said.
“So Humboldt came back to town to kill this man and now the Hangemuhls are lying about it,” Kurt said, “Maybe I am, too.”
“Pretty much,” Olga said.
“This theory is even nuttier than the one Agent Humboldt came to town with,” Kurt said, “Where's the evidence?”
“Where's the body buried?” Olga said.
Cemetery - 8:14 PM
Olga and Erich took out their flashlights and began looking around the graveyard.
“You're on pretty shaky ground here, Agent Kirova,” Erich said.
“Something happened here that night,” Olga said.
“But you're forgetting one thing,” Erich said, “Anders wouldn't do this.”
“Look, somebody shot that guy,” Olga said, “Somebody fired Humboldt’s weapon and Humboldt was here that night. I’m just connecting the dots.”
“And you trying to prove that Anders is a murderer is going to help you find him?” Erich said.
“Maybe he's not,” Olga said, “I'm not saying that he did this. Not yet. But he was here for a reason and then he disappeared.”
“Why would these people, people he'd never met before try to cover it up?” Erich said.
“That's the question, yeah,” Olga said.
She shone her light into an empty grave and then jumped in. She felt the earth.
“Earth’s fresh,” she said, “Kurt must've dug it up this afternoon after I left.”
“What would he want with the body?” Erich said.
“I don't know if he found it,” Olga said.
She saw a rough hole at the bottom of the open casket and a tunnel under it.
“Looks like there's another way out,” she said.
“Are you telling me the man inside that casket did this?” Erich said.
“Looks pretty deep,” Olga said, “A man doesn't get shot three times and then tunnel out of his own grave.”
“Kurt said this transient was unidentified, right?” Erich said.
Olga climbed back out. “That’s right.”
“Then why'd somebody leave these on top of his grave?” Erich said.
They shone their flashlight on the remains of the circle-cross of white stones over the grave.
Hangemuhl residence
Paul stood on his front porch with a bucket of dead chicken parts. Using the dismembered chicken’s blood, he drew the circle-cross on his front door. Behind him, Kurt stopped his car and ran up to him.
“We've got to move fast,” he said.
“She's not ready yet,” Paul said.
“Then she better get ready,” Kurt said.
He and Paul went into the house and to the bedroom, where Maria took off her wedding ring and stared at the mirror.
“I can't do this,” Maria said.
Paul put his hand on her shoulder. “You've got to do this. We don't have another choice.”
A car drove up to their house, and Maria’s breathing grew heavier. She turned to Paul, who kissed her on the forehead and then led her into the living room. Paul walked away. Kurt walked outside and pointed his shotgun as he unlocked the creature’s chains and led it inside. Maria continued sobbing as the creature entered the room and approached her. She didn’t move. Although she was frightened and terrified, she didn’t run away. The creature dislocated its jaw and swallowed Maria in one bite. It got back up and reattached its jaw. Then Kurt led it away.
In an adjacent room, Paul knelt in prayer.
“Our father, who art in heaven... hallowed be thy name…” he muttered.
Monsters eating people aside, it's nice seeing Erich and Olga working together despite the tension. It may go a long way in her earning some trust.