Truth Hurts
Tsarberg - November 4
The SVI bombardment halted at midnight on November 4. Most of the city lay in ruins, including much of the Winter Palace. But with smoke still rising from the rubble, Olga wasted no time. First responders searched for the injured and delivered them to hospitals. Now that the bombardment had ended, the evacuation could begin in earnest, aided by the Russian Army divisions Olga had preemptively withdrawn from the border. But she was also personally helping out, along with Wilhelmina and Sophie. The street they were currently on was quiet and empty, aside from a police car constantly patrolling around the block.
“An evacuation order has been issued for all citizens of Tsarberg,” the police officer driving it said through a megaphone, “This is not a drill. Please proceed to your neighborhood community center for further instructions.”
“All citizens, huh?” Sophie said.
“I wonder if the Tsar has left already,” Wilhelmina said.
“Yeah, he did,” Olga said, “He was all too eager to get out. Bad memories of Chernomyrdin.”
“I totally understand,” Wilhelmina said.
“And you’re not?” Olga said. “You literally had to flee Berlin four years ago.”
“I was scared then,” Wilhelmina said, “Not anymore.”
“Alright,” Sophie said, “But remember the difference between bravery and recklessness.”
“I know, I know,” Wilhelmina said.
“Oh, and if you were wondering, Willie, the Romanovs flew out from Kiev earlier today,” Olga said, “Your grandson will be happy to hear Ilyana’s going to be okay.”
“I bet,” Wilhelmina said.
Olga went up to a house and knocked on the front door. An old man opened it.
“Good morning, sir,” Olga said.
“Chancellor Kirova,” the man said, “Princess Wilhelmina. I didn’t think you’d show up.”
“We’re here on behalf of the evacuation,” Wilhelmina said, “Just a friendly reminder.”
“I appreciate the reminder, especially in person,” the man said, “I’m actually in the middle of packing my stuff.”
“Would you like us to help?” Olga said.
“Oh, no, I can’t ask a chancellor and a princess to help me,” the man said.
“I insist,” Olga said.
The man opened the door wider. “Then come on in.”
They entered the house. It was rather empty, though that was probably because most of the man’s valuables were already packed into two suitcases. Regardless, those suitcases were too small to have fit everything in the house, which meant it must have been quite bare already. The man went to the kitchen and began brewing some tea.
“It wouldn’t do to just get right to business,” he said, coming back with the tea, “Here.”
Wilhelmina drank the tea. It was fragrant and sweet.
“This is wonderful,” she said.
“Made it just like how my father used to,” the man said.
Olga sipped the tea, and her face paled.
“Wait a minute,” she said.
“Is something wrong?” Wilhelmina said. “Is it bad?”
“Oh no, it’s fine,” Olga said, “This tastes very familiar.”
“You don’t remember?” the man said.
Wilhelmina noticed the man had a completely different demeanor now. Olga had prepared her gauntlet for quick activation.
“What do you mean?” Wilhelmina said.
“My name is Nikolai Petrov,” Nikolai said, “My father was Ivan Petrov. He was a KGB agent who knew Olga sixty years ago.”
“Ivan…” Olga said. “That’s a name I haven’t heard in years.”
“You remember now?” Nikolai said.
“Yeah, I do,” Olga said, “Ivan would always make this tea after training at the academy. Said he learned it from his grandmother in Smolensk. Gundegmaa and I joked he should have opened a tea cafe at the academy. Then again, none of us had a choice regarding the KGB. But I never knew he had a son.”
“Families of spies have always been targets of assassinations, reprisals, and hostage-taking,” Nikolai said, “The KGB kept my mother and me off the radar. Even from Ivan’s colleagues. Fortunately you only started long after leaving the KGB.”
“Tell me about it,” Olga said.
“Isn’t your father the brother of Viktor Petrov?” Wilhelmina said. “The father of modern Russia?”
“I don’t like bringing that up,” Nikolai said, “I like the quiet life the KGB gave me and my mother. You’d understand.”
“True,” Wilhelmina said.
“You look just like your mother,” Nikolai said.
“You met her?” Wilhelmina said.
“No, my father did,” Nikolai said, “It was the Kolyada of 1984 in Vienna. The Crown Princess was visiting Roman troops there, when—”
“—Mom decided to visit the Soviet ones as well,” Wilhelmina said, “At great personal risk. He must have been one of those she met.”
“Yes,” Nikolai said, “He was the first, actually. He and his unit put down their guns and stopped fighting that day, against orders from their superiors. They didn’t want to fight on Kolyada.”
“Yeah, meanwhile I was slaughtering entire squads of Roman soldiers that same day,” Olga said, “Past me embarrasses present me a lot.”
“My father served his country his whole life,” Nikolai said, “But he was more loyal to the ideals he was raised with. Equality, togetherness, brotherhood. That all people of the world should unite and be as one. The Internationale unites the human race, after all. The Crown Princess was not an enemy to him. But someone he could find common cause with.”
“Then why was he still fighting in the war?” Wilhelmina said.
“He believed in the cause,” Nikolai said, “That we were bringing liberation to the workers and the colonized. The truth of that can be debated, of course, but he definitely believed it, at least he did at first. His little Kolyada stunt got his squad discharged, and he was only spared punishment because of his stellar KGB record. But he never saw action after that, and his assignments were revoked. As the war dragged on and Varennikov grew more and more insane, he saw the Party for what it really was: corrupt, and an obstacle to the liberation he wanted. Which was why he sided with the Reich after the war, like you and Gundegmaa did. Every time he came home to Smolensk, he told me he was doing great work for the Reich, building a better future for humanity. I never saw him sad when he visited. He was always hopeful. He believed he was making a difference for the world. Up until…”
“He disappeared,” Wilhelmina said.
Olga said nothing, but she looked like she knew exactly what had happened.
“One day, he just didn’t come back from his mission,” Nikolai said, “Nobody would give me or my mother any details, other than he died in the line of duty. Olga, you were working with the Athanatoi at the time. You could’ve crossed paths with him. Do you happen to know anything?”
Olga hesitated for a moment. Wilhelmina briefly saw an expression of alarm on her face.
“I…did meet him for a couple assignments that year,” Olga said, “The details are classified. But he seemed okay when I was talking to him. Always hopeful…and brewed great tea. I don’t know what happened to him. All I was told was the ship he was assigned to went down, all hands lost. I’m sorry.”
Nikolai looked down. “Well, at least it’s better than nothing. Thank you, Olga.”
“I’m sorry I couldn’t be more helpful,” Olga said.
“No, it’s fine,” Nikolai said, “At least I have an idea of what happened. For that, I’m grateful. Now, let’s continue packing, shall we?”
They spent the next hour packing. Soon, they were done. Nikolai picked up his suitcases and headed to the door.
“Well, I better be off,” he said, “And I believe there are other people you can also help.”
“Yeah,” Wilhelmina said, “But it was a pleasure helping you.”
“Likewise,” Olga said.
They shook hands with Nikolai.
“Chancellor Kirova, you’re a good woman,” Nikolai said, “Don’t let anyone say otherwise. And Princess Wilhelmina…you remind me a lot of your mother. Can you promise me something?”
“Anything,” Wilhelmina said.
“Your mother promised my father she would visit Smolensk someday,” Nikolai said, “But she never got the chance.”
“I’ll try,” Wilhelmina said, “Once things get better.”
“Of course,” Nikolai said, “Ivan would really like that.”
On the way back to their car, Wilhelmina noticed Olga had a look of guilt on her face.
“Something the matter?” she asked.
“I didn’t tell the full truth to Nikolai,” Olga said, “I know exactly how Ivan Petrov died.”
“How?” Wilhelmina said.
“Gundegmaa and I killed him,” Olga said, “Cut off his head. It wasn’t exactly on the ship, and it was more like the ship exploded while docked, and Gundegmaa killed him nearby, but I might as well have participated in it.”
“Why did you do it?” Wilhelmina said.
“He was working for the people who killed our mothers,” Olga said.
“Really?” Wilhelmina said. “Him?”
“You’d be surprised how many people worked for them,” Olga said, “Maybe that’s how he thought he was helping the world.”
“Why’d you lie to Nikolai then?” Wilhelmina said.
“I didn’t want to cause him any more pain,” Olga said, “He wanted closure. I gave him it.”
“…I see,” Wilhelmina said.
“Sometimes, the truth hurts,” Sophie said.
