Part 75, Chapter 1121
Chapter One Thousand One Hundred Twenty-One
1st March 1955
Moscow, Russia
They were sitting in the study of the Czar, a fire to ward off the cold of the Russian winter. Fyodor Volkov was discussing the latest series of events with the Czar, the Chessboard forgotten as they had moved into thorny topics.
It was all part of a heroic narrative that many in the Russian Government were trying to sell the Russian people. Considering the events of the prior decades it was funny how things panned out, steam east of Moscow and electric to the west. In the long run it was predicted that diesel would completely replace steam and the main lines that ran to the Far East would be electrified. That was engineering on a scale that might have once been unimaginable made particularly poignant by who was paying for a great deal of that, the German Imperial Railroad and they were definitely getting a return on that investment. The riches of Siberia finally opening up and the Russians were having to fight tooth and nail to keep that wealth in Russia.
Fyodor liked to think that they, the Russians, would win in the end. That the unfolding story of the Trans-Siberian railroad and the Russian Far East might one day inspire a multitude of novelists and screenwriters the way that the American West did. The difference was that the Americans could keep their cowboys, they would have soldiers, engineers, railroad workers and unfortunately, many prisoners to play a role in that very Russian story.
It was that last group that concerned the Czar today. The woman who had been dubbed the Poisoner of Leningrad, Alisa Rosenbaum, had died of tuberculosis in Siberia a couple months earlier. She was alleged to have quietly killed several men and had systematically removed every asset she could find of theirs before the authorities figured out that they were dead. It hadn’t been until an official had grown suspicious of a forged marriage license supposedly signed by of one of the recently deceased that she had been arrested. It seemed that the men who she had preyed upon were those deemed sexual deviants, a community that had many reasons not to alert authorities themselves. The man in question was of the sort who was considered rather unlikely to get married.
“The whole situation is a mess” Georgy said, “In Saint Petersburg they were happy to learn that she was dead, they were however less thrilled to learn the NKVD had been keeping her alive for mostly propaganda reasons.”
“A living example of crimes motivated by greed and of being a Jew” Fyodor said, and he saw the look on Czar’s face as he said that.
Georgy had grown up in Paris in the Russian exile community there, later going to school in England. He had seen first hand the consequences of the French Government attempting to solve its problems by throwing Jews and Gypsies out of France. It hadn’t worked, the French Republic had fallen apart, and that action had proven to be to the benefit of the nations where those people had ended up. Mostly Germany and Italy, which was rather ironic to anyone who knew the history. Privately, Georgy had said that he felt that anti-Semitism was retrograde and frequently counter-productive, but as Fyodor had learned, Georgy maintained his position by choosing his battles carefully. Fighting against bigotry while they had a nation to rebuild would have been pure folly.
“I understand that” Georgy said, even if he wasn’t happy that he did.
“The present reality again?” Fyodor asked, “Not what we might want in a generation or two?”
Georgy just frowned. Despite Stalin’s boasting, it seemed like so much of Russia was stuck in the agrarian past. There was heavy industry, but much of it had been damaged and worn out during the war. Or worse, remained in Ukraine or Belarus, where the people had absolutely no inclination to cooperate with them. That on top of the demographic problems that Russia was having and their best minds emigrating to Europe and the Americas. It was a real mess. Problems that had taken generations to create were going to take almost as long to solve. It was a source of great frustration for everyone and not just the Czar.
“It doesn’t matter” Georgy replied, “Have you given any more thought to what we discussed last week?”
“Kaiser Louis Ferdinand’s trip to Jerusalem?” Fyodor asked.
“Rome and Constantinople as well” Georgy replied.
“He’s covering all of his bases” Fyodor said, “I’ll give him that much.”
“He needs to” Georgy said, “He rules over a nation that has a long history of religious violence. He has to make sure that everyone gets included or he will create a major headache for himself.”
“You’ve never felt the need to concern yourself with the concerns of various groups within our own empire.”
Georgy just stared into his drink and the light of the fire that was reflected in it.
“A considerable number of goat herders a thousand kilometers from anywhere of importance?” Georgy asked, “Besides that, if I didn’t give the Army something to do then I fear I would swiftly come to regret it.”
That was one of the brutal truths that Fyodor had learned from being close to the Czar. A saint would not have lasted long in that job and if shooting at Muslims kept the Army feeling like they were accomplishing something then it was a small price. Better out there, a thousand kilometers from anywhere, then how things had been in Stalin’s time with the NKVD on the loose and Military Intelligence not being a whole lot better inside the cities themselves.
“Our people in Rome have things handled there” Georgy said mildly, “Constantinople and Jerusalem remain under your sphere of influence.”
“Constantinople, sure” Fyodor replied, “Jerusalem, not so much.”
“Whatever” Georgy said, “Just make sure of one thing, no surprises, the Kaiser’s trip goes exactly as planned.”
“I know he has his own people for that” Fyodor said, “Remember that we had the BND and the German Army crawling up our backsides the entire time we were in Potsdam?”
“You know what I mean” Georgy said, “If you know someone is about to do something stupid, teach them the error of their ways. It is in our best interest that Louis Ferdinand has quiet, enjoyable tour.”
1st March 1955
Moscow, Russia
They were sitting in the study of the Czar, a fire to ward off the cold of the Russian winter. Fyodor Volkov was discussing the latest series of events with the Czar, the Chessboard forgotten as they had moved into thorny topics.
It was all part of a heroic narrative that many in the Russian Government were trying to sell the Russian people. Considering the events of the prior decades it was funny how things panned out, steam east of Moscow and electric to the west. In the long run it was predicted that diesel would completely replace steam and the main lines that ran to the Far East would be electrified. That was engineering on a scale that might have once been unimaginable made particularly poignant by who was paying for a great deal of that, the German Imperial Railroad and they were definitely getting a return on that investment. The riches of Siberia finally opening up and the Russians were having to fight tooth and nail to keep that wealth in Russia.
Fyodor liked to think that they, the Russians, would win in the end. That the unfolding story of the Trans-Siberian railroad and the Russian Far East might one day inspire a multitude of novelists and screenwriters the way that the American West did. The difference was that the Americans could keep their cowboys, they would have soldiers, engineers, railroad workers and unfortunately, many prisoners to play a role in that very Russian story.
It was that last group that concerned the Czar today. The woman who had been dubbed the Poisoner of Leningrad, Alisa Rosenbaum, had died of tuberculosis in Siberia a couple months earlier. She was alleged to have quietly killed several men and had systematically removed every asset she could find of theirs before the authorities figured out that they were dead. It hadn’t been until an official had grown suspicious of a forged marriage license supposedly signed by of one of the recently deceased that she had been arrested. It seemed that the men who she had preyed upon were those deemed sexual deviants, a community that had many reasons not to alert authorities themselves. The man in question was of the sort who was considered rather unlikely to get married.
“The whole situation is a mess” Georgy said, “In Saint Petersburg they were happy to learn that she was dead, they were however less thrilled to learn the NKVD had been keeping her alive for mostly propaganda reasons.”
“A living example of crimes motivated by greed and of being a Jew” Fyodor said, and he saw the look on Czar’s face as he said that.
Georgy had grown up in Paris in the Russian exile community there, later going to school in England. He had seen first hand the consequences of the French Government attempting to solve its problems by throwing Jews and Gypsies out of France. It hadn’t worked, the French Republic had fallen apart, and that action had proven to be to the benefit of the nations where those people had ended up. Mostly Germany and Italy, which was rather ironic to anyone who knew the history. Privately, Georgy had said that he felt that anti-Semitism was retrograde and frequently counter-productive, but as Fyodor had learned, Georgy maintained his position by choosing his battles carefully. Fighting against bigotry while they had a nation to rebuild would have been pure folly.
“I understand that” Georgy said, even if he wasn’t happy that he did.
“The present reality again?” Fyodor asked, “Not what we might want in a generation or two?”
Georgy just frowned. Despite Stalin’s boasting, it seemed like so much of Russia was stuck in the agrarian past. There was heavy industry, but much of it had been damaged and worn out during the war. Or worse, remained in Ukraine or Belarus, where the people had absolutely no inclination to cooperate with them. That on top of the demographic problems that Russia was having and their best minds emigrating to Europe and the Americas. It was a real mess. Problems that had taken generations to create were going to take almost as long to solve. It was a source of great frustration for everyone and not just the Czar.
“It doesn’t matter” Georgy replied, “Have you given any more thought to what we discussed last week?”
“Kaiser Louis Ferdinand’s trip to Jerusalem?” Fyodor asked.
“Rome and Constantinople as well” Georgy replied.
“He’s covering all of his bases” Fyodor said, “I’ll give him that much.”
“He needs to” Georgy said, “He rules over a nation that has a long history of religious violence. He has to make sure that everyone gets included or he will create a major headache for himself.”
“You’ve never felt the need to concern yourself with the concerns of various groups within our own empire.”
Georgy just stared into his drink and the light of the fire that was reflected in it.
“A considerable number of goat herders a thousand kilometers from anywhere of importance?” Georgy asked, “Besides that, if I didn’t give the Army something to do then I fear I would swiftly come to regret it.”
That was one of the brutal truths that Fyodor had learned from being close to the Czar. A saint would not have lasted long in that job and if shooting at Muslims kept the Army feeling like they were accomplishing something then it was a small price. Better out there, a thousand kilometers from anywhere, then how things had been in Stalin’s time with the NKVD on the loose and Military Intelligence not being a whole lot better inside the cities themselves.
“Our people in Rome have things handled there” Georgy said mildly, “Constantinople and Jerusalem remain under your sphere of influence.”
“Constantinople, sure” Fyodor replied, “Jerusalem, not so much.”
“Whatever” Georgy said, “Just make sure of one thing, no surprises, the Kaiser’s trip goes exactly as planned.”
“I know he has his own people for that” Fyodor said, “Remember that we had the BND and the German Army crawling up our backsides the entire time we were in Potsdam?”
“You know what I mean” Georgy said, “If you know someone is about to do something stupid, teach them the error of their ways. It is in our best interest that Louis Ferdinand has quiet, enjoyable tour.”
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