Svetlogorsk Planetarium
Svetlogorsk, Svetlogorsky District, West Baltic Soviet Socialist Republic, Union of Soviet Socialist Republics
October 21, 1986
Two weeks in, and still no news of Mr Pajari. The longer he stayed in the otherwise unassuming town, the more Nikolai began to learn about his father's life after his exile. For the townsfolk here, Aamu was not just another exile sent for rehabilitation. In a small town of just ten-thousand strong, practically
everyone here appeared to know each other.
Huddles in his coat and ushanka against the chilly autumn breeze, the Finn accompanied Violett down the road towards the local planetarium, a replica of the one in the Soviet capital. As far as he knew, he had asked just about everyone prominent in the town, and the answer seemed to be the same; 'haven't seen him of late'.
"Does everyone in this town know about Mr Pajari," he went, pulling his scarf up, "I feel as if they do, for some reason."
"Mr Aamu was one of the community leaders here," Violett informed him, "he performs at the Svetlogorsk promenade every weekend. The local West Baltic Fenno-Soviet Association has regular contacts with the Finland-Soviet Society as well. They were hoping to invite him to perform in Finland until he left the collective."
"What happened to his charges," queried Boyarov, a hint of nervousness in his voice.
"You mean sedition charges," Violett responded, sounding a bit solemn, "to be honest, I can't tell how someone like him would be arrested for any such things. His poems were strictly about the geography of Karelia. Any supposed subtext supporting secession from the Soviet Union would be next to impossible to pick up. Besides which, he's lived in the woods this whole time. He's never had an audience before his arrest."
"No..." uttered the lad in a morose voice, "no, he didn't..."
Rubbing his gloved hands, Boyarov realized he had not mentioned to Violett about his blood ties to Pajari yet. His surname, derived from 'Boyar' was a reversed translation of the Finnish word 'Pajari'. The boy who took on a more Russified name ironically had a somewhat believable claim to any Russian lineage the surname implied. But how would she react if he did? Would her teacher have told her the story of his son's betrayal?
"Is something the matter," Violett queried, as the two arrived at the door of the planetarium. As her clear blue eyes gazed into his, the guilty retired policeman did not have the heart to tear his gaze away. Bowing his head, he admitted, "I just want to know... if he's fine... We even checked the cemetery... Where on earth is he?..."
For a moment, Violett's doll-like facade cracked for a bit, her mouth opening in an inaudible gasp as she watched the elder trying to hold back his tears. This was not the first time she had seen him close to breaking down. He had very nearly broken down when he tried looking for Pajari's tombstone. But the girl could sense something bothering him deeply, especially concerning her teacher. Turning back at the door, she said, "let's go inside. Maybe he knows."
Zvezda 1 Moon Landing Exhibit, Svetlogorsk Planetarium
Svetlogorsk, Svetlogorsky District, West Baltic Soviet Socialist Republic, Union of Soviet Socialist Republics
Later, October 21, 1986
Zvezda 1, the Soviet Union's first and only lunar landing. Named after the proposed lunar base meant to mark the triumph of socialist sciences on the face of the Moon, the program was as doomed as the lone cosmonaut who, perhaps by sheer willpower and fortune, made it back to Earth in one piece. Looking at the spacesuit-wearing mannequins - a cosmonaut and astronaut - shaking hands, it seemed odd so little was mentioned about Zvezda 1. But the Soviet landing in 1971 only belied the harsh truth of their fatally flawed Moon mission. They were still second place to the Americans, forced to accept a consolatory handshake from the Apollo 15 crew, by then the fourth NASA team to have landed.[1]
Adjusting his spectacles in a dazzlingly suave pose, the strange, Oriental-looking curator exuded a cool flair, enough to make the policeman flustered. With a simple sleek crop of hair and a sharp, delicate expression, it was hard not to think the throng of female visitors were there for him than the exhibits. But Violett, for all the magnetic aura the curator was imbued with, appeared stoic as always. That the blonde German was completely unfettered over the green-eyed stares stabbing through her was remarkable.
"No, I'm afraid I haven't seen him in ages," the curator answered, "I was hoping you knew, Immergarten. Have you two filed a report with the Militsiya?"
"I'm not sure I trust them enough to find him, honestly," Nikolai admitted, "he was blacklisted for sedition."
A glimmer shining from his dark spectacles, the man replied, "I see. I think you might have conflated our local police a tad too closely with the rest of the MVD. While it is true that the Militsiya had become notorious for their corrupt practices, the division here was under direct command of the government of the West Baltic, separate from the capital's command structure."
"So I heard," Nikolai grumbled, "something about this place being a prison?"
"Crudely speaking, yes," the curator noted, "but there is more to the myth of the prison state than you think. Most people who come to the West Baltic do so out of their own free will, and a desire for a better life. Exiles like Mr Pajari are a significant minority, but most in this town seek better opportunities here. Now that the door to the West is open, many are beginning to leave. But even then, the kind of poverty and deprivation that's gripping the Soviet economy had not been as serious here so far, mostly since we operate independently of Soviet central policy."
"But enough about that," he spoke, "where else have you two checked?"
"The Promenade, the jetty, practically every place he had performed in," Nikolai admitted, "maybe he moved out of town. I don't know... I just want to know where he is..."
Gazing at the depressed man, the curator responded thoughtfully, "I see. Then I'll try to keep an ear out for you. We've had people moving in and out of town all the time. Perhaps you should take another look, in case you miss something."
Putting on a glad smile, the policeman replied, "thank you. And might I say, it's quite a surprise and honour to meet you, Mr..."
"Yeo," the curator stated, "Mr Yeo."
______________________________
Svetlogorsk Promenade
Svetlogorsk, Svetlogorsky District, West Baltic Soviet Socialist Republic, Union of Soviet Socialist Republics
October 21, 1986
Pacing down the promenade walkway with Violett, Nikolai still found it hard what was attracting so many to this place. Never mind the lone cosmonaut to have reached the moon, he had lost count the myriad of characters that had made their home here. The Aral fishermen at the Baltic Sea jetty, the Armenian pastor, the bartender and the collective farmers... It was not force that brought them all here. It was an opportunity. And it was these people that had helped those who did not have that choice, like his father.
"Strange place for a man who made history, huh," Nikolai tried to strike up a conversation, "what's a cosmonaut doing here in Svetlogorsk."
"I don't know," admitted Violett, "perhaps it was punishment for the Zvezda mission. While he had been a qualified cosmonaut, Mr Yeo was assigned as an engineer for the Soviet Lunar mission. The mission was meant for another cosmonaut, Alexei Leonov. However, official Soviet records slated a change at the final moment, and an earlier launch. I suspect that the entire Lunar expedition was never planned with Yeo in mind."
"An unplanned launch," went Nikolai, "so they were going to leave him to die if anything bad?"
"I don't know," Violett stated, "much of what I've heard is speculation, so please take caution."
Rubbing his hands as he tried to warm himself, Nikolai could not help but raise his eyebrow. If the hero Yeo had indeed stepped out of line in the Zvezda mission, it might explain why he was in Svetlogorsk. Moreover, his absence after the Zvezda 1 mission had put an end to the lunar program, just as America's was winding down as well. But what intrigued him was where Violett came to such conclusions. After spending so much time with her looking for Pajari, he never really asked about her self.
"Uh, Violett," he tried to speak, as the girl suddenly halted. For a moment, he could see an actual change in expression, her mouth opening a bit as she stared ahead in astonishment. Looking ahead, Nikolai's heart stopped as he recognized a familiar, handcrafted kantele being brought out in a box, its patterns reminiscent of the home he had almost forgotten, along with many personal belongings.
"Aren't those..." blurted Nikolai instinctively, bewildered by the smoking, bearded stranger hauling out his father's keepsakes. Before he could react, however, Violett let out a huge yelp, calling out at the stranger as her pace quickened Her expression, once aloof and unfeeling, was slowly twisting into a wry anger. As Nikolai tried to catch up to her, he spotted a dull grey hand reaching for Violett from the 'thief', shafting the belongings on a ledge as he tried to seize her.
"Violett," Nilokai called out, as the blonde girl caught wind of the attempt. Reacting quickly to the grab, she instinctively tried to elbow the assailant, matching the opponent blow by blow in a flurry of violent punches and kicks. Trying to reach for the side of his thigh, the hapless ex-policeman took a moment to realize his lack of firearms. It was then he took a closer look at the attacker, clearly locked in a struggle with a surprisingly competent fighter.
"CQC," blurted the assailant, a gruff, middle-aged man with a full beard and an eyepatch, "what're you, Stasi?"
Dressed in a long winter coat, the stranger's forearm appeared to be a prosthetic, though not as intricate as Violett's pair. His skills were also on par with a special forces soldier, though Nikolai was more unnerved over Violett's own skills. Uncharacteristically irate, Violett questioned sternly, "where did you get those items?
Answer me."
Glaring deeply at the girl, the gruff veteran-type kept silent for a good few minutes. But as he released his opponent and stepped back, his hands lowered, growling, "metal arms... You're looking for an old music man, ain't you?"
Nikolai and Violett's search was coming to an end.
OOC Notes:
- IOTL, the Soviets were just nowhere near able to launch a manned Moon mission, much less beat the Americans to the race. ITTL, Yeo's involvement in the project (both as project leader and astronaut) meant that the Soviets only just got to the moon and back by the skin of their teeth. Of course, that only solved part of the problem, and the Soviets still failed to beat the Americans to the Moon. As a result, they had to contend with the consolatory prize of second place and a peacemaking handshake with an Apollo crew.
Cast: