Abyssus Abyssum Invocat

by Carlo Zen

  The report had several pages. It was so dangerous, it couldn’t be copied. The Federation would be in trouble if it couldn’t get the Imperial Army to be cruel invaders.

  No, it wasn’t even a hypothetical at this point.

  If this was true, then their multiethnic state was being undermined in the present tense.

  The only way to maintain support for the Communist Party was to fight tolerance with tolerance.

  If they were to be more permissive about nationalism than ever before, that might be one way to encourage resistance against the Empire.

  But once the presidium reached that idea in their contemplations, they had to reject it. It would be an utter nightmare.

  “The situation is dire.”

  “So there’s no mistake, Comrade Loria?”

  “No, Comrade General Secretary. The data in the report has been screened very carefully.”

  The most that would be allowed in their multiethnic state was affirmative action. Generosity on par with the Empire’s, featuring unconditional praise of nationalism, would be tantamount to the destruction of the Federation. Or maybe the party would even collapse and Communism’s cause would be undermined.

  “…Hmm. Are you sure you can trust the source?”

  “It’s based on reports from our undercover agent and political officers. We did our best to verify and guarantee its accuracy.” Am I keeping my voice even superficially calm? It was hard even for Loria. “The data from both sides matched. All the reports strongly suggest that the Empire and the separatists have formed a political alliance.” So he stated it firmly. “There is no room for doubt.”

  All the indications the Commissariat for Internal Affairs was able to acquire pointed to the truth that the two supposedly hostile countries were now beginning to work together.

  The shock at that moment was such that even Loria could hardly believe the conclusion. But there were too many signs that this was reality to ignore it. The greatest proof was the emergency rescue request that had come in from a partisan unit like a scream.

  They should have been swimming in a sea of the people, but the staggering news was that they were being wiped out.

  The results of the follow-up investigation were even more distressing.

  The ones on the ground with the mission to wipe out the partisans weren’t from the Imperial Army but a peacekeeping unit. And when they looked into it further, it was the local peacekeeping unit with support from the Imperial Army!

  At that point, it became apparent that there was an alliance. They had to acknowledge it.

  “There is a dramatic change taking place within the Imperial Army.”

  The pure violence machine had sprouted a bud of political context comprehension. And it was growing at a terrifying rate.

  The roots were surely too deep, so it was too late to nip it.

  The Empire was learning to see from the viewpoint of politics. The hard-core military state was building on its past experiences. That was more of a threat than if the violence machine had received fifty reinforcement divisions.

  Failing to notice early signs of these qualitative changes was a serious mistake. So Loria had to accept the reproachful looks from the now pale-faced participants in the meeting.

  “…But the change is too fast. We thought we knew the Imperial Army, but perhaps the extreme circumstances of war have enabled a rapid transformation?”

  Riding in his car through the streets of Moskva, Loria thought to himself.

  At its root, the crisis before us is the impossibility of our nation’s structure to maintain its legitimacy.

  No matter how much they went on about the “evil invaders” from the Empire…if the nationalists happily defected to the Imperial Army’s side, the Federation would be a laughingstock, howling in vain. He could easily envision the worst-case scenario. A journalist from a third nation would surely be the trigger.

  They would figure out of their own accord that the nationalists were siding with the Empire and write an article. Even just denying that one article would require a massive amount of work.

  “Most pressingly…our image abroad is horrible.”

  The gazes directed toward the Communist Federation from the governments on the West Side were terribly cold. Publicly, they proclaimed that they were companions in a joint struggle, but he was sure that inside, they didn’t feel even the faintest flicker of friendship.

  We joined hands only reluctantly in order to combat our immensely powerful enemy, the Empire.

  Even the Communist Party had that one point in common with the West Siders. Suppressing their antipathy, they had pretended to join up with a capitalist nation they didn’t trust.

  In a nutshell, the two powers were connected only by shared interests. The two sides were shaking hands against a devil they were desperate to ruin.

  “They probably hope that we and the Empire will take each other out. If I were in their place, I would happily do the same thing. Shit. I had to put up with those annoying nightmares, and this is what I get?”

  Son of a bitch. Loria heard his own voice arguing back in his head.

  Facing its powerful neighbor, the Empire, would be a catastrophic crisis for the Federation no matter when it happened.

  Comrade General Secretary’s decision to start the war as a preventative measure was valid.

  But from a national defense perspective, we should have done whatever it took to avoid this nightmare: a confrontation with the Empire, reining in the center of the continent after toppling neighboring countries with its martial power.

  “We were prepared to bear the brunt.”

  The problem is that those multidirectional warmongers really are good at war, if nothing else.

  Their army, which should have far outnumbered the Imperial Army, was crushed by the counterattack in the blink of an eye. The more Loria investigated, the more he was forced to realize that these neighbors were too dangerous.

  “…And we are left without allies…for now.”

  In a crisis, you want lots of friends. Unfortunately, in the classroom of international society, the Federation was the poor, lonely child ostracized by the others.

  Be that as it may, we can’t mistake our situation.

  Surely, it wasn’t inconceivable to gain friendship if they worked for it. In other words, friendship was attainable. The search for new friends was not a lost cause.

  “Let’s have the wonderful friend we call public opinion work for us. Isn’t democracy simply marvelous?”

  Even if he appealed to the emotions of this logical government devoted to raison d’état, all he would get out of it would be lip service.

  But… Loria smiled a genuine smile as if he had located his enemy’s weakness.

  “So far, throwing in idealists seems to be going well… Even if we can’t fool the diplomats, we can get the soldiers and the amateurs. It’s too great.”

  There were countless people with bad impressions of the Federation, but surely they would begin to hesitate when they noticed the disparity between that image and the soldiers and party members from the Federation they actually met.

  That psychological gap was the key to the Federation’s propaganda strategy.

  The more intelligent and sincere a person was, the more likely they were to interpret their situation as I was prejudiced, without any extra help.

  “Yes, employing idealists as political officers is so useful.”

  Idealists got respect not for their ability but for their personality. Once they gained some experience, they were perfect.

  But an idealist made a great story even if all they did was die holding their position. Just showing them carrying out their duty could have an effect.

  “The people of the Federation are so inspiring, heroic, and devoted. Let’s make idealists into martyrs by the dozen. We’ll make them saints of the Communist mythology.”

  Everyone likes heroes.

  Everyone loves honest people.

  Eve
ryone respects sincere warriors.

  Walking Federation PR machines devoted to their ideals, so noble and good. Lately, there was no end to Loria’s love for idealists.

  They were the secret weapon that would secure the West Side’s wonderful public opinion as a friend for the Federation.

  If the Empire is going to team up with Federation separatists, then we’ll firmly join hands with the West Side.

  “It might be fun to see which friend is stronger. Oh, how interesting.”

  This was war—a competition for swindlers to see how well they could manipulate people by concealing their dirty intentions with empty fluff.

  Let’s speak of ideals. We’ll praise the public-facing attitudes. And then we’ll compete—to see who gains more popular support. Let’s have a clash of trivial appearances and facades.

  Everyone loves beautiful things. I’ll give you illusions if you want them so badly.

  I’ll hand out dreams.

  “Ha-ha-ha, does that make me Daddy-Long-Legs, then?”

  Kind, gentle Daddy Loria probably. Quite the buffoon, no?

  “Or maybe Santa Claus. Ha-ha-ha, this is delightful. Either one seems fun. I guess I’ll be delivering hope, dreams, and beautiful fantasies.”

  Idealists deliver illusions and mirages.

  Since I’m the one managing them, does that make me chief of the post office? No, no, I should be a bit more elaborate and call myself the Santa Claus of Hope.

  Ohhh. There Loria had second thoughts.

  “No, attractive men and women are more popular. They would probably be easier to use.”

  It was clear that to hand out beautiful dreams, it would be best for beloved, beautiful people to drive propaganda.

  Considering his own appearance objectively, he reorganized his plan.

  I should definitely not be public facing. Loria laughed at himself. He had no intention of getting so foolishly carried away by the urge to be the center of attention that he couldn’t make that judgment.

  “To think the day would come that my screening process for political commissars would be searching for idealism with an emphasis on looks… Life sure is unpredictable.”

  That’s what makes it interesting, though. Every day is full of new discoveries… Is this what they call rejuvenation?

  But he wasn’t averse to admitting that not everything about it was good.

  He couldn’t help but get turned on.

  On that point, he found an awful lot to regret about his personal tastes, and it was hard not to get discouraged.

  For example, take the communications officer he dispatched to the Commonwealth Army, Liliya Ivanova Tanechka. What a tragic waste. Ten years earlier, I would have wanted to make her unclouded eyes glaze over, make her breath ragged…

  “Why does everyone have to ripen beyond my tastes…?”

  Sadly, by the time he met her, it was too late.

  “They say love is once in a lifetime, but I guess you can’t take these sayings from the Far East lightly. Each meeting should be dear to your heart.”

  Loria had also been taught not to cry over spilled milk.

  Which was why, with renewed determination, Loria smiled.

  “Wait for me, my fairy. I’ll catch you; I’m sure of it.”

  This time, this time I won’t let her go. Standing by while this supreme flower wilts would be the greatest folly in all of history—I can’t do it.

  Beautiful things must be appreciated while they are beautiful.

  I have no doubt that that is my most important duty.

  NOVEMBER 24, UNIFIED YEAR 1926, THE EASTERN FRONT

  When Lieutenant Colonel Tanya von Degurechaff receives the message, she is so impressed she bursts out laughing.

  What a splendidly devious move the General Staff has come up with.

  Honestly, the approach itself is classic. Even cliché. But it’s also rare to have a plan that so precisely grasps the enemy’s weakness and takes advantage of one’s own strength.

  To the Federation, this will surely be a more terrifying attack than a million-bullet volley.

  “Gentlemen, a notice from the General Staff. Remember this: Apparently, we’re going to liberate the minorities suppressed by the Federation.”

  In response to her good news, the officers are silent and tense, seemingly confused.

  “We’re going to liberate them?” First Lieutenant Serebryakov sounds as if she can’t quite believe it.

  “As a means to some end?” First Lieutenant Grantz, for his part, can’t seem to hide his skepticism. That’s the typical attitude of an experienced soldier toward any public-facing statement that seems impossible to make.

  I suppose you could call it being respectful while keeping your distance?

  Major Weiss is the only one maintaining a wise silence… The others are nodding in agreement.

  Sheesh. Tanya feels compelled to despair.

  These guys know combat, but they don’t know anything about politics. This is precisely the problem with them.

  No matter how much you win, it’s meaningless unless you can use that victory politically. That’s the absolute truth, but these guys have a tendency to forget it completely.

  No—to be fair, the intense combat on the eastern front doesn’t give them much time to remember.

  That’s not uncommon in war, though.

  “As Lieutenant Grantz says, perhaps it’s a propaganda effort? No one would actually believe it. But they might pretend to.”

  “That’s a very interesting opinion, Captain Ahrens, but what’s the basis for it?”

  “The people here. I’m sure if we started losing, they would raise the flag of the enemy,” the captain spits.

  That’s probably the general view on the front lines. I have no doubt that anyone who has served in the east would agree right away. Objectively speaking, it’s a rule of thumb that is hard to deny.

  Everyone is forced to be aware of the reality that many kiss the hand they wish to cut off.

  Two different types of nations make the most suitable example.

  “You mean how every house has both the Federation and imperial flags?”

  “Yes, you know about that, right, Colonel?”

  “Taking the side of the victor, even superficially, is simply the wisdom necessary to survive for these people caught in a war. Blaming them is a waste of effort.”

  I get why Captain Ahrens is angry. But Tanya thinks it’s like going about your sales approach in the wrong way.

  Like being upset that skis won’t sell in the desert.

  “Theoretically, the General Staff’s proposal makes sense. Eliminating some enemies with words alone can’t be a bad deal.”

  “That’s for sure. But getting called a liberator puts me on edge.”

  “I feel the same way. Sorry, Colonel…”

  While some imperial soldiers apparently take the title of liberator seriously at first… It’s hard to call someone a friend if you’re not sure they’ll stay your friend once the rain starts falling.

  They’ve probably seen the imperial flag abandoned in tough times.

  Captain Ahrens and Major Weiss, having seen that happen, must realize immediately that they aren’t being welcomed as liberators.

  “It’s not that I don’t understand, Major Weiss. But the higher-ups have defined us as liberators. And they have a great idea to go along with it.”

  “…I hope for once it’s actually a good idea.”

  “Put your mind at ease, Major. I guarantee this one.”

  You may go in calling yourselves liberators, but unless you can sell that idea to the people, the plan will fall apart sooner or later. But if the higher-ups make practical use of politics, you’ll be in a different strategic universe from mere wishful thinking.

  We have instructions from Lieutenant General von Zettour. The text from the General Staff proclaiming us liberators has clear meanings between the lines.

  You can read it as “divide and conquer.” As gea
rs in the machine, we have to get moving.

  Thus, Tanya declares in a stern voice, “Setting aside whether you agree with it or not, here’s your notice. This applies to officers at every level, no exceptions. From now on, ‘accidents’ involving civilians in our jurisdiction must be dealt with more properly.”

  These many citizens simply want to preserve their normal lives. The reason they want to turn on us is…most often misconduct by occupying units. Those horrible mistakes only feed the guerrillas and benefit the enemy.

  “Considering there might be some damn numbskulls who don’t understand, a test. Major Weiss, you get it, right?”

  “Yes, of course! You mean you want us to treat issues the same as we would if we were garrisoned in the home country?”

  Well. Tanya smiles. I don’t need to worry about Weiss.

  “What?! It’s not orders to cover up carelessness?”

  But she got some dramatic reactions from the idiots who apparently still didn’t understand… It’s so perfectly in line with her expectations that Tanya’s concerned.

  First Lieutenant Tospan gapes at her as he blurts out unbelievable nonsense.

  The instructor who passed him in the academy should probably be culled. How did they even manage to get him through? I’d love to ask someone.

  “Lieutenant Tospan, Major Weiss has stated my intentions correctly. A soldier’s misconduct will be treated as the officer’s misconduct. This is an occupation. Learn the art of administering occupied territory… Even if it’s a mask, we’re expected to act as liberators.”

  “But how will we prevent espionage?”

  The idiots are warbling again. I really can’t handle the ones who are not only incompetent but don’t even realize it. Perhaps, as the old saying goes, industrious idiots should be shot.

  “You’ll figure it out.”

  “Huh?!”

  “Deception, disguise, information warfare. It’s what you officers are here for, right? Or can’t you do any work unless you’re holed up in no-man’s-land?” Enduring a headache, Tanya flatly rejects Tospan’s objection.

  Still, internally, she feels gloomy. The reason is simple: She has been forcibly reminded once again that the commander of the majority of her forces, the infantry, is inept.