Closing Moves, Part 3
I am ready. The plan is ready.
Julian stood in front of an empty oil drum. Flames flickered under his hands as all of the notebooks, maps, charts, hard drives, and memory cards he had used over the last week were currently being reduced to ashes. To anyone passing by, his facial features would be obscured by both his baggy clothes and the nighttime darkness, making him appear to be a regular homeless man. It would not throw off the surveillance drones Mozaffar had started deploying, though. So he had to stay on the move. Once he was sure his physical media had been rendered unusable, he stuffed his hands in his pockets and walked away, letting other homeless people share the warmth.
He stuck to back alleys, where surveillance was lighter. That and he always felt more comfortable in the seedy underbelly of the city. It had been like this since leaving Bremerhaven. There was no point in keeping his hands clean when the rest of the world was mired in blood and mud. And he learned much more about what Persian society was truly like here than he could ever hope to by observing the clean public image on the surface. Men and women in flashy party clothes bobbed their heads to the faint punk music coming through dimly lit doorways. The air had a slight whiff of cannabis. He looked down an alley and saw a man doubled over, vomiting into a trash can. Examination campaign posters were plastered all over the wall, but they themselves were covered in all sorts of obscenities and non-mainstream political slogans. Many of the streetlights were off, and those that weren’t flickered intermittently, with flies and moths buzzing around them. This was the true nature of Persian society, which Mozaffar and his cronies would rather ignore.
Julian arrived at his destination, a nightclub in a secluded part of the alley. A tough-looking bouncer stood in front of the door, but he stepped aside when Julian took off his hat and sunglasses, revealing his face. He went inside and sat at a table. The night was young, and the nightclub was filled with young dancers living the life. During the daytime, these people would be college students and office workers just starting their careers, but when the sun went down, they could enjoy themselves in a way that made Julian jealous. He sometimes wished he could join them, but he had given that up when Eva became mayor of Bremerhaven.
If anything, I’ll make sure they can continue enjoying themselves like this, even if I’ll never be like them.
Navid sat opposite him. He couldn’t stand out anymore than he tried, with his twitching hands, constant looking around, and too nice clothes. “Uh…hey.”
“Navid, you can do a better job of being discreet,” Julian said, “It’s a miracle nothing bad happened to you on the way here.”
“Yeah, uh, sorry Julian,” Navid said, “I’m not used to this spy business.”
“Don’t worry, you’ll get the hang of it,” Julian said, “But as a word of advice? Wear something like what I do. And most importantly,
act like you belong.”
“Okay, uh, sure, got it.”
“Anyways, you got the goods?”
“Uh, yeah, here.” Navid handed over a small briefcase. “Man, if my roommate’s cousin hadn’t clerked for the Diwan of Mithra, I don’t know what we’d do.”
Julian opened the briefcase. Inside, he found several documents marked with government seals. One was a schedule of events for tomorrow. Another had a list of VIPs attending that event. Other documents listed locations and briefly summarized event discussion topics. And finally, there was an ID card.
“Everything you need, Julian,” Navid said, “I couldn’t get my hands on the Majlis archives, though. Voting records, donation disclosures, apprenticeships, session transcripts, the juicy stuff.”
“A shame,” Julian said, “I was hoping we could avoid all this and go straight to nailing Mozaffar to the wall. Oh, well. That’s what the rest of the briefcase’s for.”
“You sure about this, Julian? This is nothing compared to leaking all those documents to me and Noor or organizing those protests.”
“Navid, I was at Mosul when everything went down.” Julian moved his hand in a flood-like wave. “I can handle this.”
“Then let me help you,” Navid said.
Julian shook his head. “No, Navid. You’ve done enough for the cause. I’d hate to get you involved more than you have to.”
“But this is my country we’re talking about. I want to help uncover the truth, like Anders did.”
“You’re a civilian,” Julian said, “I don’t want to put you in more danger. It should be my burden and my burden alone.”
“Julian, you already put me, Noor, and half the campus in danger,” Navid said, “And we still helped you knowing the risks. We’ve done this because we believe in what you’re fighting for. Face it, this is much greater than you now. You already said it in your video. You’re the face of the movement, the vessel through which
we make our voices known. You can’t do this alone.”
“And what makes you say that, Navid?”
“Without us, you wouldn’t have gotten this far.”
“I found the location of the imprisoned royals myself. I won Mosul myself. I started these protests on my command.”
“You wouldn’t have been able to act on any of that without us,” Navid said, “Who edited and broadcasted the tapes you got from Börte and the others? Who got you to Mosul? Who helped you probe the security at the hospital? And who
actually protested? Why do you think you can only do this yourself?”
“Because I don’t want more people to get hurt because of me!” Julian raised his voice loud enough that people nearby were starting to stare. “When Eva was shot and put in the hospital, I was left in charge of Bremerhaven. The responsibility of defending a city against endless hordes of Crusaders was thrust upon me. Every single day, I looked over casualty rates, troop formations, and deployments. The lives of hundreds of men and women were in my hands. I decided who lived and who died by choosing who went to fight and where. For every Clara, Angelica, Anna, and Annie who made it out, there were eight more who didn’t, because I messed up. And then the whole city got nuked anyways.” He leaned across the table and pointed at his eyes. “Every night, when I go to sleep, I still see
her eyes. The same color as the ones you see before you, piercing right into my soul, right before she pushes me into the bunker and closes the door. Eva’s dead because of me. I was supposed to defend the city for her, but I couldn’t even do that. Everybody died.” He lowered his voice. “Now I’m in Persia, doing the same thing, and I failed yet again. The Romans have been cast into the wilderness because Mozaffar acted faster than me. Everything I was supposed to protect and preserve was taken from me yet again. So I told myself, no more. I can’t involve more people than I need to in my plans. And when I do, I have to keep them away. If I have to step into the darkness to keep everyone else in the light, the best I can do is keep them out of the darkness, even if I have to use them as pawns.” He tapped the table, as if moving chess pieces. “You do know I’ve been using you and Noor and Angelica and everyone else, right?”
“That’s not true,” Navid said, “We knew exactly what you were doing and still chose to help, regardless of the consequences.”
“But I was willing to sacrifice you all if it meant advancing my plans,” Julian said, “Even now…”
“We understand how important the work is,” Navid said, “I know you have a greater plan that I’m not supposed to know. That’s fine. I shouldn’t know everything. If Mozaffar’s men capture me, you have to make sure I don’t blab everything to them. Same goes for Angelica. She was with the Athanatoi before, wasn’t she? So she knows better than anyone that controlling information is king. Listen, Julian. I can’t say I’m an expert on these things. I wasn’t at Bremerhaven, and I’ve been far more fortunate than you Romans. But believe me when I say we all genuinely want to help. It doesn’t matter that we’ve only known you for weeks. The world saw what happened to the Reich and could only watch in horror as Jerusalem destroyed everything Romans held dear. We see the same happening with our country today, but unlike then, we don’t have to watch. We can fight back and make sure it doesn’t happen here.”
“You don’t understand, Navid, tomorrow is going to be extremely dangerous!”
Navid nodded. “Nothing ventured, nothing gained. If we don’t take a stand, then who will? Isn’t that what happened in the Reich? Nobody cared to stand up until it was too late. So you would rather we follow your path into damnation?”
“That’s not what I’m saying, what I mean is that I don’t want to put you in any personal danger. Leave it to me, I’ve handled stuff like this!”
“And
I’m telling you I can handle this too,” Navid said, “Me and Noor and the campus. Maybe we can handle it better than you, because we’ve lived here our whole lives. We know this country and how things work. Let us back you up, because we want to save our home. Together, we can overcome Mozaffar. Friedrich the Great didn’t work alone, remember?”
Julian laughed. “You make a big deal of Persians handling things better than me, a Roman, and then invoke our founding Kaiser?”
A bit weird, isn’t it? Surely they have a better Persian figure.
“The Roman way isn’t limited to the Reich,” Navid said, “It’s something we can all strive for, regardless of nationality or ethnicity. It’s what Friedrich the Great would have wanted. So we’ll strive for it here, in Persia. Julian, let me help. Let us help. You’ll have a better chance of victory if you do.”
“You want to help, regardless of the danger?” Julian asked.
“Yes.”
“Despite knowing you could possibly be arrested or worse?”
“If Anders Humboldt could do it, so can I.”
“Guess I can’t convince you otherwise, then?”
“I’ve already made up my mind.”
Was he really that devoted? Was he really that suicidal? Julian wanted to keep him out of this. Tomorrow’s operation was going to be more dangerous than even Mosul was. One wrong move, and that would be it for him and the Romans. For better or worse, it was ending tomorrow. Either Julian or Mozaffar was going down. So he didn’t want to get more civilians involved. Navid was just supposed to be the guy he went to when he needed to broadcast something outside of the mainstream media networks. Nothing more, nothing less. But what he said did make sense. He hadn’t gotten here entirely on his own. He escaped Bremerhaven because of Angelica and Tania. He made it to Persia because of Billy and Ruby as well. He wasn’t the only person in the government of exile. Without Börte and Igre, the flood would have wiped out the Yavdians along with the Persians. How did he not realize it sooner?
I wanted to fight in the darkness on my own, but I didn’t realize others had followed me there for the same reason: to keep everybody else in the light. Perhaps this was what Eva realized too. She didn’t protect Bremerhaven on her own. So why am I trying to fight alone? You know how that ends. The old Reich may be gone, but Persia can still be saved. To do that, I will need the support of its people. They know this country best, so I shouldn’t dismiss their help. That’s the Roman way. That’s one way we’ll keep our dream alive, if not through the Reich.
Julian sighed. “Alright, fine. I’ll adjust my plans.”
“I won’t let you down, Julian!” Navid smiled and pumped his fists. “We’ll show you what true Persian patriotism looks like!”
“I’m sure looking forward to it,” Julian said, “Now let’s get started. I have a role for you…”
Elsewhere
Every time Julius made the trip up from the depths of Olympus Base to the autoritter hangars, he couldn’t help but marvel as to its sheer size. On October 21, 2000, the day the first astronauts landed on the Red Planet, it came into existence when those astronauts connected and activated several prefabricated habitats sent on earlier unmanned missions. Since then, Olympus Base had always had a human presence. In 2002, the first heavy machinery arrived on Mars, and Olympus Base extended underground into a nearby network of ancient lava tubes. In 2004, the original habitats were dismantled and replaced by the first of the habitat domes, delivered on UNAP’s first ARC ship. These domes would become ubiquitous across the planet, with the only settlements not having them being those that were built around landed ARC ships. The first civilian residents—consisting mainly of Austrian soldiers, engineers, physical laborers, researchers, and youths with few ties keeping them on Earth—arrived in 2006 after the UN granted the Reich sovereignty over the area. In 2008, Emperor Claudius established Olympus Province, consisting of the base and the surrounding Martian territory, and appointed the province’s first governor. Due to communications delay, it was impractical for Olympus to send a delegate to the Imperial Diet in Vienna, or even for the a delegate to electronically commute, so the province was granted significant autonomy. In 2010, Olympus Base held its first elections, and the main issue discussed by candidates that year was how to expand the base further underground to accommodate new immigrants arriving on the ARC ships regularly making trips between the two planets. In 2017, the base’s population reached one million.
And then Earth died the following year, and the trickle of new arrivals became a flood. The Reich made contingencies to only send the imperial family, the most important noble families, the Diet, and the military leadership on its last remaining ARC ship,
Giselbert, but Eva had ordered the ship not to leave orbit until it was at full capacity. Initially built for 100,000 passengers and crew, with 80,000 of those supposed to be placed in cryogenic stasis, by the time Angelica and Julius took the last shuttle up to orbit it had been crammed with 150,000 souls. They landed at Olympus Base weeks later, and once all had disembarked,
Giselbert was placed in geosynchronous orbit above Olympus and outfitted with leftover military hardware that hadn’t been taken down to the surface. Rechristened as the
Gradivus, it was meant to protect Olympus Base against any attacks from orbit. But today, for the first time in 21 years,
Gradivus left geosynchronous orbit and initiated a hard burn towards Beck’s longitude.
Olympus Base had also transformed over the past 21 years. The expansions of the subterranean tunnels became a necessity as the 150,000 evacuees of 2018 were followed up by another 100,000 imperial subjects who had made it to Mars on various smaller ships like freighters, luxury yachts, repurposed Moon shuttles, and even a few military frigates. And those were the lucky ones—five times that number was estimated to have perished in the dark void between the planets. But the new arrivals, equaling a quarter of the base’s pre-Rapture population, needed to live somewhere. And so the base dug deeper underground. Each cluster of tunnels grew larger and larger, their peoples banding together to form communities and then neighborhoods. By 2025, some semblance of an economy emerged in Olympus, and with it the old social classes of the Reich were reborn. At the very top, where solar radiation was strongest, the chances of habitat failure were highest, and enemy attacks would target first, the surface laborers and rank-and-file soldiers lived in the dome itself. The general population lived in the tunnel networks below the surface. Below them lived the old researchers and engineers, who had been there since the base’s earliest days and now wielded significant political power due to their knowledge of Olympus’ life support systems. Below them, the lowest and safest levels were reserved for the most important imperials—military leaders, the Diet, the chancellor and cabinet, and the nobility, but as the years went on those groups increasingly intermingled. By 2039, Julius could barely see any distinctions aside from their titles. And below
them was the imperial palace compound, where Julius, Angelica, and his staff lived.
Today, none of that mattered. The entire base was united around a singular cause. The rivalries between the neighborhoods, the squabbling of the politicians in the Diet, and the grumblings of the researcher-engineer unions were all put on pause, just for this day. As Julius’ elevator ascended through Olympus’ levels, the usual sounds of people going about their lives were noticeably reduced. It was as if everybody was aware of the significance of what they were doing today, and they were all doing their part. The elevator dinged, and the doors slid open, revealing the expansive military hangar. In contrast to the subdued levels below, the hangar was full of noise and activity. Workers were always in a hurry, their hands completely filled with tools and materiel. Tank engines sputtered in the distance as their crews fired them up. Some pilots had already gotten into their autoritters, which now flexed their giant metallic limbs as the humans inside calibrated the control interfaces. Angelica had already fired up the Balmung and was doing some practice swings with her sword. There were no aircraft in this hangar—the atmosphere was too thin for them, and the only atmospheric spacecraft anybody used were shuttles to
Gradivus and UNAP’s ARC ship,
Fraternity. The bulk of the Reich’s military actions today would be confined to either the ground or orbit.
As soon as Julius stepped out of the elevator, it was as if a bomb went off. Everybody halted in their tracks, stopped everything they were doing, snapped to attention, and saluted. All of the commotion of two seconds ago disappeared, replaced by a single word. “MAJESTY!”
“At ease,” Julius said, “Please, resume your duties. They are more important to the Reich’s success than anything I may accomplish on my own. You have all lost much in service to the Reich. Given your all for our fair cause. I stand before you all as a fellow Terran, alive because of your dedication and loyalty both on the battlefield and in the workshops. A word cannot express my thanks in kind.”
He began walking across the hangar. “Today, we march into the jaws of fate. Our final enemy lies in wait at Beck. They will be expecting us, so we must be ready for them. And tomorrow, if we are all still here, my fondest dream is to walk among you once more, so I may give my thanks anew.”
He thrust a fist into the air. “Let not this grand dream of ours dissolve into despair! We will defeat UNAP! We will claim our birthright as rulers of Mars and turn it into a home for all Terrankind, free of the shackles of old Earth!” He swept his hand out at the crowd. “So Emperor Julius von Anniona commands you! Lend me your strength, lend me your imperial hearts, proudly beating with the iron blood of Mars!”
He stopped in front of the Sigurd. Having just received a new paint job and extensive repairs and replacements of its weapons, it looked almost brand new. Julius climbed up onto the Sigurd’s shoulder and turned back to the crowds assembled.
“Today, we forge a fate for all our civilization! One life can make its mark upon this world, but the lives of an entire nation working as one moves the wheels of history ever forward! Now be that life! Be among the millions of lives and push the wheel! Fight well! Fight brave! For blood and iron! For Anniona Universalis! For the dream of Mars and Terrankind forevermore!”
Everybody roared and thrust their fists up. “WANSUI! SIEG JULIUS! SIEG ANNIONA! BLOOD AND IRON! ANNIONA UNIVERSALIS! FOR MARS AND TERRANKIND FOREVERMORE!”
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Julius’ speech was loosely based on an Elincia speech I initially intended for Wilhelmina and gave to him and someone else in TESB when I realized Wilhelmina was in no position to say it.
For the record, habitat domes are not made of glass or transparent, in case anyone’s wondering. For obvious reasons.
