A Day of Ends and Beginnings - Part 8
Takomaan - 1:00 PM
After finishing her sandwich, Alexandra immediately ran over to the remains of the robot cow and started taking notes. As the others also finished their lunch, they began scanning the rest of the room, trying to find a way further into the lab. But Alexandra remained with the cow.
“Hey, Alexandra,” Gulichi said, “You find anything interesting?”
“Oh, I’m getting a lot of good data here.” Alexandra put a hand on the cow’s “skin.” “You see this? It’s metallic.”
Gulichi crouched to get a better look. “But it looks almost like the real cows on the farm.”
“Exactly. It’s not metal as we know it. It’s made of nanomachines.”
“Nano what?”
“Really small machines programmed to link up and move in a certain way.” Alexandra held up a hand and pointed at her palm. “Kind of like the cells in our body. Which is why this cow looks and moves so naturally.”
“Can we build something like it?”
Alexandra thought for a moment. “Perhaps. I’ll need to take this to a dedicated lab with equipment.”
“Depending on the size of the Sampo, we might be able to take this back with us.” Their helicopter was designed for lifting heavy machinery in addition to carrying a squad of soldiers. “Though that doesn’t solve the problem of a lab.”
“Thea will figure something out,” Alexandra said.
Last he had heard, though, Thea was bedridden. “After she gets better, right?”
Alexandra shook her head. “No. A few broken bones won’t slow her down. I bet you she’s already working on something right now.”
After they finnished the observation of the cow, they continued deeper into the ancient workshop. Gulichi and Samir took point as usual, while the scientists hung back and took notes. The cow seemed to be most of what remained, as the most they found in the following rooms was rubble and long decayed machinery.
“It seems their electronics operates on similar principles as our own.” Alexandra crouched to peer at what seemed to have been a circuit board a long time ago. “They really built their stuff to last if there’s still something left after thousands of years.”
“But can we pull data off them?” Leyla asked.
“If one of their computers still works, yes.”
“That’s a haunting feeling,” Leyla said, “It’s like someone’s reading through my browser history a thousands of years in the future.”
“I wouldn’t wish that on anyone,” Gulichi said.
Leyla’s face reddened. “What the hell do you know about my browser history!”
“He was just making an observation,” Samir said, “We’ve all searched up…stuff we don’t want others to see online. We’re putting future archaeologists through a lot of confusion.”
“Obviously the solution is to destroy the Internet. Thanks to Jerusalem and China, we’re already halfway there!”
“As much as I hate Dikastirio, I’m not sure that’s a good thing…” Alexandra said.
They entered another room, and this one surprisingly had more stuff than the previous ones. It seemed to be a storage room, but the door had long since rusted off its hinges. Three large objects took up most of the room. The largest was what seemed to be the frame of a ship, about the size of a medieval sailing ship. It was metallic like the cow, with a slight golden-bronze sheen that gleamed off the light from the team’s flashlights. It was obviously no longer seaworthy on account of all of the rust and rot that had affected it over the years, reducing it to little more than the frame. But even if it was still in perfect condition, Gulichi doubted it would sail. It looked more like an aircraft than something suited for the sea. And were those half-decayed blocks at the very end supposed to be rocket engines? The object next to it was smaller,, but not by that much. It resembled a plow, but it was a bit bigger than the ones Gulichi saw in the village. It had the same golden-bronze sheen as the boat and was full of what was supposed to be electronics, though it probably no longer worked. After that was something that looked like a giant gun, with two rails running parallel to each other and forming the barrel. Didn’t exactly look practical, especially in its current state of disrepair.
“Interesting…” Alexandra looked at the plow first. “This one holds the most promise.”
“Not the giant boat or the gun?” Magnus said.
“They’re little more than metal skeletons at this point,” Alexandra said, “I can’t do anything with them right now. But this thing here survived the years better.”
“Any idea what it does?” Samir asked.
“‘On the fourth day, Ilmarinen / Downward bent and well examined, / To the bottom of the furnace,’” Gulichi recited, recalling his childhood Kalevala lessons, “‘There beheld a plow in beauty / Rising from the fire of metals, / Golden was the point and plowshare, / And the beam was forged from copper, / And the handles, molten silver, / Beautiful the plow and wondrous; / But alas! it is ill-mannered, / Plows up fields of corn and barley, / Furrows through the richest meadows. / Ilmarinen, metal artist, / Is not pleased with this creation, / Quickly breaks the plow in pieces…’”
“So it was the plow that didn’t do its job,” Leyla said, “But the epic poem doesn’t explain why it isn’t in pieces here.”
“The poem was written in the 19th century by an author who was more than willing to change some details to make a better Yavdian nationalist narrative,” Samir said, “So we can’t take it as fully accurate to what really happened.”
“I also don’t like euhemerizing myths,” Magnus said, “It falls dangerously close into ‘Zeus was just a king from Socotra’ territory.”
“And yet the Sampo myth is real,” Gulichi said, “We’ve got all four of Ilmarinen’s failed inventions hidden in an ancient workshop under the lake. Which bodes well about the Sampo’s existence.”
“Better hope that part at least is real,” Leyla said, “Or else thousands will starve.”
Frankfurt - 10:00 AM
Binar sat against a server rack, gun in her lap and facing Ludolf. Her walkie-talkie had long since gone silent. No doubt her entire squad had finally succumbed to the ambush, and the Crusaders had turned their guns on the surrounding area. Hopefully that would buy her enough time to figure out a plan of escape.
“You need to kill me,” Ludolf said.
“Not a chance,” Binar said.
“Give it up already,” Ludolf said, “We’ve had this discussion enough times. If I could, I would kill you right now. So if you want to save yourself, you’ll have to kill me first.”
“I can’t let that happen,” Binar said, “You have to live.”
“You wanted me dead just a couple hours ago.”
“That was then, this is now,” Binar said, “We didn’t understand each other back then, but we do now. And now that we do, I don’t want you to die.”
“You’re a soldier, same as me,” Ludolf said, “You should know that’s downright stupid. We’re supposed to kill each other.”
“According to our orders,” Binar said, “But I don’t want to cut short your life. You can still get your life back.”
“Am I really worth saving, out of the millions of Crusaders out there?” Ludolf said. “I’m just another random grunt. Why am I different?”
“Because you’re here, and I’m in a position to change things,” Binar said, “I might not be able to save everyone in this country, but you’ll do just fine. Whoever saves one life saves all of humanity. So I’m going to sit here until I figure something out. A way to get out of here without killing you.”
“And what about everybody else out there?” Ludolf said. “You going to save them too?”
“Ideally I’d avoid fighting them,” Binar said, “But if it comes down to it, I’ll have to defend myself.”
She checked her gun. It was still in working condition. But she only had so much ammo. She wouldn’t get far if every Crusader in the city was coming after her. So she needed a plan. Her squad was dead, and the only people she trusted to not shoot her were in Ulm, a 2 hour train ride away. She wouldn’t make it out of the city. But she couldn’t stay here either. She had only enough rations to last about two days at most.
She picked up her waklie-talkie. “Colonel Eisenburg, come in!”
Ulm
At that moment, Frederica had been pinned down behind a wall, with bullets zipping around her. The crackling of her walkie-talkie and Binar’s voice startled her. “Hey! I’m quite busy here!”
“Sorry, but I need some new orders!”
“Just stay put!” Frederica said. “The rest of your squad’s gone, right? Well, wait until reinforcements arrive!”
“Reinforcements?” Binar said.
Heinrich was also confused. “Reinforcements?”
“Listen up, everyone,” Frederica said, “Ulm is lost, but if we can link up with Binar and any other survivors in Frankfurt, we might have enough to survive.”
“And then what?!” Sigmund shot at an approaching Crusader. “We can’t last against this many enemies at once!”
“We go after Moria,” Heinrich said, “We capture him and force him to rescind the order.”
“Marching on Berlin?” Sigmund said. “Are you mad?!”
“We don’t have any other choice,” Frederica said, “It’s our only option now.”
“And what if he doesn’t rescind the order? What then?!”
“Then we’ll make him,” Heinrich said.
“You hear that, Binar?” Frederica said. “Stay put. We’re coming to get you.”
“Thanks, Colonel, but I would really like to know how we’re getting past
the hordes of Crusaders hellbent on killing us all.”
“General Dandolo? Any ideas?”
Heinrich shook his head. “Need more time to figure something out.”
“Well, you better,” Sigmund said, “Because it was you pushing that button that got us into this mess.”
“Well, I think it was Ludolf—” Binar said.
“No, it’s Moria’s fault,” Ludolf said, “He’s the one who set us up.”
“Why is that guy still alive?” Frederica said. “You should really kill him now.”
“Not while there’s still a chance we can save him,” Binar said, “If we get the order rescinded, he can defect.”
“Who said anything about defecting?” Ludolf said.
“You got any better ideas? Your current superiors aren’t looking too good. To put it lightly.”
Ludolf sighed, unable to respond.
“Okay, just stay where you are and don’t die,” Frederica said, “We’ll hijack a train and try to make it to the Panopticon servers by the end of the day. Then we’ll take a train north to Berlin.”
“Sounds way easier than actually doing it,” Sigmund said.
“Well, we don’t have a choice.” Frederica stood up. “Alright, let’s move!”
Baku - 12:00 PM
When news of the change in Crusader tactics broke, the Liberation Legion scrambled to reposition themselves for maximum civilian protection. With all neighborhoods east of the school safely in Roman hands, Billy ordered the unit to advance west. As they pushed closer to downtown, a new challenge emerged. Thousands of townspeople fled in the opposite direction. Their bloodied and dusty clothes were disheveled and devoid of bright colors—a legacy of Jerusalem’s cultural suppression. The lucky ones carried their belongings in old rolling suitcases that looked like they would fall apart any minute now. The unlucky ones only had duffle bags and cardboard boxes. Their bloody and dirty faces were full of terror, and they constantly looked over their shoulders out of fear of being pursued. There were mothers with babies and young children, many teenage girls and young adult women, and quite a few old men and women trying their best not to be trampled, but there were very few teenage boys and young men. When they saw the approaching Romans, they surged forward and pleaded for protection in a variety of languages.
Ruby watched the crowd nervously, keeping her finger off her trigger and her gun lowered to show she wasn’t a Crusader. One wrong move and the crowd would become a mob.
“Listen up!” she said. “I am Ruby Moreau with the Liberation Legion. We have secured the oil refineries on the eastern shore. There, we have arranged for helicopter evacuations to take you to safer territory. We will cover your backs. Focus on making your way there ASAP. On our honor, we won't allow any Crusaders to get past our lines and go after you.”
That seemed to do the trick. Calm fell over the crowd.
“Now let’s do our duty as Romans!” she continued. “Look out for one another, and we will all get through this together.”
Although Billy hadn’t given any orders, he was probably thinking the same thing. He turned to the others of the unit. “You heard her! Set up defensive lines!”
Within minutes, a line of sandbags, machine guns, and improvised fortifications running from north to south across the neighborhood had been set up. The crowd of refugees quickly ran past the fortifications and into safer territory, their hopes restored by the very obvious show of force from the Liberation Legion.
“I’m sorry, Billy,” Ruby said, “I forced your hand.”
“It’s okay,” Billy said, “Rushing further west would only get us all killed. Better to dig in here and rescue who we can. Though about the evacuation…”
“Let me guess, Remmele is being stupid again.”
“Unfortunately.” Billy made a fist. “He’s prioritized fighting the Crusaders over saving civilians.”
“Are you kidding me?” Ruby was also disappointed. “What is wrong with that old man? Does he not care what the Crusaders are doing?”
“It’s precisely because the Crusaders have changed targets that he’s also changed priorities,” Billy said, “Damn him. He just wants to take the easy way. The military way.”
“So what do we do here?”
“Börte’s coming to our aid, regardless of Remmele’s orders,” Billy said, “She should be clearing out the city center and relieve our pressure.”
“Good to know someone out there’s still on the side of justice,” Ruby said.
Billy’s radio crackled. “What is it?”
“This is Squad Gamma.”
“Marks speaking. Go ahead.”
“We’ve spotted a company of enemy armor moving east on Victoria Street. One tank, four APCs, one squad of infantry. About 2 miles northwest of your position. They’re currently pursuing a lagging group of civilians. Börte’s reinforcements won’t arrive in time.”
“Damnit,” Billy said, “We can’t abandon our positions at the moment.”
“But maybe we can send a small fireteam for reinforcements,” Ruby said, “And that exosuit of yours is a significant force multiplier.”
Billy nodded. “That could work, Ruby.”
He turned to one of the other soldiers in the area. “Alright, listen up. We’ve got Kreuzie armor heading up Victoria Street, targeting civilian stragglers. One tank, four APCs, one infantry squad. We need to intercept and secure their escape. Corporal Canossa, you will take temporary command of the defensive line and oversee the evacuation. Specialist Heid, Specialist Ludwig, you’re with me and Moreau.”
“Yes sir!” the soldiers received the order with a salute.
Isfahan - 1:00 PM
One of the surgeons approached Theodor. “We’re done, sir.”
Theodor clapped his hands in excitement. “I hope you have good news.”
“Yes, sir. Despite the complication an hour ago, the implant was successfully removed. We’ve finished patching up Josh’s skull and closing the incisions we made.”
Theodor waved a hand dismissively. “Too much information. Didn’t need to know that. But when will he regain consciousness?”
“Probably in an hour. We estimate we’ll be able to release him from the hospital later this afternoon.”
“And back to jail with him,” Theodor said.
“Yes.”
“Alright, then,” Theodor said, “Let me know when he wakes up. I want to rub it in his face that he’s just a regular boy again. A regular, really messed up boy.”
“I’ll…uh…make a note about that.” The surgeon quickly hurried off.
Theodor sighed. “Just say what you need to say, coward. We’re not in some equalist hellhole. It’s a free country.”
With nothing better to do, he returned to the observation room and quickly fell asleep in his seat.
---
“Mozaffar!”
Mozaffar’s heart sank. After finishing his lunch, he had found a bench in a nearby park to relax and get his thoughts in order. But when he heard Parviz shouting his name and saw everybody turning their heads in his direction, he knew it was over. His vice chancellor was now making his way over to him, his usual crocodile-like smile plastered over his face.
“Where have you been this whole time?” Parviz said. “It’s been what, two hours?”
“I was getting lunch,” Mozaffar said.
“Well, lunchtime’s over! We’ve got a schedule to keep and quite a lot to catch up on.”
Mozaffar sighed. “Back to the grind, I guess.”
They got into a waiting car. As soon as his bodyguards closed the door behind him, Parviz handed him a heavy stack of papers. “Would you like the foreign or domestic policy briefing first?”
“Foreign.” He didn’t want to think about whatever madness Parviz was doing at home.
“Well, the Central Asian situation has gone south really quickly,” Parviz said, “And in some cases that is literal.”
“I thought we defeated Jerusalem’s remaining forces there,” Mozaffar said.
“We did, but China decided it wanted a second round.”
“I thought Han Xianyu withdrew back to his own borders.”
“We thought so at first, but there were some occupied territories he held onto,” Parviz said, “Our best intel suggests he’s still occupying northern Vietnam, the major Korean cities, northern Burma, and, most importantly for us, eastern Turkestan.”
“So he’s on the move again?”
Parviz nodded. “The Turkestan front’s back in play. The Chinese army’s heading west and south, putting pressure on Samarkand once again.”
“Just when we moved the bulk of our troops to the Mesopotamian front…”
“And then those ungrateful soldiers had the nerve to mutiny!” Parviz said. “Now Turkestan’s going to fall to China.”
“And then we’d be next, right?” If Turkestan fell, then northern Persia would be completely exposed to a Chinese invasion.
“Not to worry!” Parviz smiled. “Our border defenses there are adequate. They’ll be too busy dealing with Turkish partisans to actually fight us anyways.”
Mozaffar flipped through the foreign policy briefing. “This report from the Artesh says that Chinese troops are massing on the other side of the Strait of Hormuz opposite Gamrun.” Gamrun was an important port city on the Strait of Hormuz and the main base of the Persian Navy. “Shouldn’t we worry about that?”
“No worries,” Parviz said, “Gamrun is far away from Isfahan. I guarantee you, if they somehow manage to take that city, they wouldn’t even get to Shiraz.”
“We should really focus on, I don’t know,
preventing them from attacking Gamrun?”
“Rest assured the Artesh is working on it,” Parviz said, “Just focus on your job.”
“This
is my job!”
“You’re only one man, Mozaffar,” Parviz said, “And there’s only so much you can focus on. Speaking of which, let’s get to that domestic affairs briefing, shall we?”
If China really does invade Persia, we deserve to be destroyed. Mozaffar flipped open the domestic affairs briefing. “What did you want to discuss first? The economy or the security situation?”
“We can handle the economy tomorrow,” Parviz said, “Just the usual. Prices are high, unemployment and inflation are up, the stock market’s down. We’ll figure it out at the dedicated briefing. But the security situation in the capital is what needs immediate attention.”
“What, more protests? Thought we handled them already.”
“We still haven’t arrested Julian Anniona,” Parviz said, “As long as he’s out there, he’ll continue destabilizing your rule and disrupting your plans.”
“Then you’d better get to stopping him,” Mozaffar said.
“The police has its hands tied with all of the protests,” Parviz said.
“How big are we talking?”
Parviz took out a map of the city. “They’re concentrated on the north side. Isfahan University of Technology’s students have walked out of classes and shut down the campus. For some reason, the Chamber of Commerce has teamed up with farmers’ unions and shut down the Grand Bazaar with a big strike. A large crowd’s picketing in Naqsh-e Jahan Square, in front of Ali Qapu. Lots of streets in downtown have been shut down. They’ve gotten quite violent with the cops we sent there. But good thing we don’t need to go back there for another few hours.”
Mozaffar’s gala was being held in one of the reception halls of the University of Isfahan, which was in southern Isfahan. “I take it we’ve secured the area we
are going to.”
“We have. Rest assured, your gala will go without incident.”
“It better. I want the start of my term to go perfectly well. Make sure my security detail is informed of all possible threats.”
“I think we should just focus on security at the University of Isfahan,” Parviz said, “Southern Isfahan is peaceful. The people there are true patriots, unlike the traitors of the north side.”
“Then we should prioritize the suppression of those traitors,” Mozaffar said, “Deploy all available police and gendarmerie units to the north side and restore order.”
“Are you sure?” Parviz said. “Those rioters don’t pose a threat to your gala. We should prioritize your safety at the university.”
“Which is precisely why my security detail will be sufficient,” Mozaffar said, “We should use this opportune situation to eliminate my threats while they’re gathered in such insignificant locations.”
“Uh…as you wish, then,” Parviz said, “I’ll inform them of their new orders.”
“Thank you,” Mozaffar said, “With your help, my term will begin with my authority unquestioned.”
“That it will.”
---
I’m hastily retconning the Kalevala as the national epic and semi-religious text of Yavdi. It might change in DE with more research, but it’ll stay for now.
“Zeus was a king from Socotra” is a reference to how the philosopher Euhemerus claimed to have found an island around the Arabian Sea, believed to be Socotra by some scholars, with a register of the birth and deaths of the Olympians, proving they were regular people who were eventually deified. This was seized upon by early Christian writers as proof of the Olympians being false gods and inferior before the Christian God. From Euhemerus we also get the philosophy of euhemerism, which argues that all myths can be attributed to real people and events. As I’ve mentioned before, I want to avoid euhemerism whenever I can, as sometimes myths were always myths to begin with, as a way of explaining the world or teaching lessons to children. Of course, I’m saying this as I literally euhemerize the myth of the Sampo right down to the details, and my plans do want to euhemerize some other myths, but I want to emphasize that I won’t do this for everything. It would be a bit disrespectful to human creativity and cultural achievement.
