Alaska Republik-ARC

by Stoney Compton

  “The lights, ever see anything like them before?” He pointed up to the aurora borealis filling the dark sky with light and dimming the distant stars.

  The aurora curtained across the void with sheets of cold flame that seemed to be hundreds of miles wide, knife-blade thin, and stretching upward into outer space. The lights wavered, shifted; the color changed from opalescence to a mild emerald and bent into a scroll.

  “You’re supposed to be on perimeter patrol, not watching pretty lights in the sky, you dumb bastard!”

  “How can you not watch them, Smythe. Is there no poetry in your soul?”

  “It’s Corporal Smythe to you, Trooper Bates, and if you don’t attend to your duty, I’ll put you on company punishment!”

  “Yes, Corporal.”

  “I wish to hell it would cloud up,” Smythe said. “When it’s clear like this the temperature plummets.”

  “What are we doing out here, anyway? Nobody in their right mind would be poking around here in the middle of a night this cold.”

  “What Major Riordan wants, Major Riordan gets,” Smythe said. “We get paid to follow orders, not question them.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I said—”

  “No! Over there!” Bates said in a whisper, pointing into the dark forest.

  Corporal Smythe stopped and peered into the trees, trying to pierce the heavy darkness. Above them the aurora twisted and writhed, color shifting to a rose blush that reflected off metal for just an instant.

  Smythe quickly raised his rifle and fired into the darkness next to where the glint had vanished.

  The gunshot shattered the still night and four shots, fired nearly simultaneously, erupted from the trees.

  Two rounds hit Bates in the chest, knocking him back against a tree, dead before he hit the ground. Two rounds found Smythe, one grazing his skull and the other shattering his left scapula. He fell unconscious in the snowy forest, his blood melting snow crystals before freezing into a red pool that reflected the dancing aurora borealis.

  110

  Nowitna, Provisional State of Doyon, Alaska Republik

  “That’s the slowest damn retreat I’ve ever made,” Colonel Del Buhrman said, holding the cup of tea in both hands.

  “If you break a sweat in weather like that,” Lieutenant Colonel Heinrich Smolst said, “you die.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you breathe deeper, strain for more air, and the air is cold enough to frost your lungs—and kill you.”

  “Extreme place, this Alaska of yours.”

  “And full of extreme people,” Smolst said with a nod. “Like you.”

  Buhrman grinned and looked up from his cup of tea when Iago Titus came through the cabin door.

  “How’s our patient?”

  “My auntie has stabilized the wound, but we need to get him over to Tanana as soon as possible. She says his arm needs surgery.”

  “Damn, I was afraid of that. I’ll see if I can get a plane in here to pick him up.”

  Smolst shook his head. “It’s somewhere between fifty and sixty below out there, Del. The air is too thin for small planes and we can’t get a big one into Nowitna—the strip is too small.”

  “What do you mean, ‘the air is too thin’?”

  “All of the moisture is frozen out of it and a small plane has trouble getting any lift without a bit of moisture in the air.”

  “You’re pulling my leg, right?”

  “I had the same response when they told me that one back in Siberia in ’79. So I asked a pilot about it and he verified the story.”

  “I’ll be damned. You learn something new every day.”

  “If you pay attention,” Smolst said.

  “So we can’t get out by air unless it warms up. I sure as hell hope it doesn’t get any colder.”

  “Which begs the question, Colonel Buhrman: why are you still here?”

  Colonel Buhrman gave him the squint-eyed, half-smile look that told Smolst the man had an ace in the hole. They had played innumerable games of poker to pass the hours waiting for things to happen and Smolst lost a lot before he began recognizing the colonel’s “tells.” This time the ace in the hole wasn’t a card.

  Smolst pressed on. “After all, the war with Russia is over. The war with Japan is all but over. And except for a few bands of rogues like Riordan’s, things have gotten pretty quiet. Yet you’re still here and in the field despite the fact that most of your people returned to California.”

  Buhrman’s grin grew under the heavy moustache.

  “That’s what I like about you, Heinrich, you’re smart.”

  The door flew open and a bundled figure hurriedly slammed the door behind him. After he pushed back the parka hood and pulled the scarf from around his face, Buhrman recognized First Sergeant Scally.

  “My God, but it’s cold out there! I think my balls have shrunk up to my esophagus.”

  “Now there’s an image I really don’t want to dwell on,” Buhrman said. “Do you have anything further to report?”

  First Sergeant Scally hung up his parka, turned to the colonel, and saluted.

  “Our pickets report nothing other than an incredible display of the northern lights, sir.”

  “At ease, Sergeant. You performed well out there tonight.”

  “Thank you, Colonel. I found the mission to be exhilarating as well as incredibly frightening.”

  “Well put. I have to agree with you.”

  “So what do you want the men to do now, Colonel?”

  “Stand down, take it easy. I don’t anticipate the enemy doing anything crazy for at least three days. They have no idea where their opposition originated or where it went.”

  “Are they really that dumb?”

  “No, Sergeant, they are really that paranoid. We’ll happily use that against them.”

  “Works for us, Colonel. We’ll be in the main lodge.”

  “Tell the bartender to give everyone a drink on my tab. Once.”

  “Everyone? No matter who’s in the bar?”

  “Everyone, friend or foe.”

  “Class act, Colonel. Thank you.” First Sergeant Scally saluted.

  Buhrman retuned the salute. “Dismissed, First Sergeant.”

  The sergeant grabbed his gear and bolted through the door. The general store was no more than fifty meters from where they sat.

  “You’re a real pushover, Del,” Heinrich said with a wide smile.

  “Not at all, Colonel Smolst. I reward achievement and am quick to acknowledge it.”

  “So why are you still here?”

  “My government gave me the task of seeing the first elected government in the Alaska Republik to fruition. Until there’s a First Speaker elected and sworn in, my mission is not complete.”

  “Sweet Baby Jesus, you could be here for years!”

  “You say that like it’s a bad thing, Heinrich.”

  Smolst laughed. “Is it? Do you like it here, Del?”

  “I admit to having developed a taste for moose meat. I’ve never tasted anything better.”

  “Seriously.”

  “I am serious! I like moose meat. I also like the idea of helping a new republik get its shit together. This is the first mission I’ve ever had that really makes an historic difference and I want to do it right.”

  “My God, you’re a visionary!”

  “Screw you, Smolst. You’re much more hardened than you think I am.”

  “Not really. I applaud your stance. I think you actually mean it.”

  “Well, I do. I’ve been through a lot in my career and until now I really didn’t give a damn about the outcome. I just followed orders and endured. This time I actually care about what happens. I care about the people I’m working with and I care about their future. I attribute it all to my advanced age—I’m just getting soft.”

  Smolst laughed from the bottom of his belly. “You’re a fraud, Del, why don’t you just admit it?”

  “I will when y
ou do.”

  “I’m glad you’re on our side, Colonel Buhrman, and I’m glad you’re here.”

  111

  Klahotsa

  “What do you mean, ‘you found nothing’?”

  “One of our guys hit someone, but there was just frozen blood and no body.”

  “Those sons of bitches!” Riordan shrieked. “Why don’t they fight fair?”

  Everyone in Bachmann’s store remained silent.

  “We’ve got a dead man and a seriously wounded man with no medical support.”

  “We do have a village health aide,” Bachmann said as if mentioning an exotic flower.

  “Has he treated a gunshot wound before?”

  “She has treated many gunshot wounds. People hereabouts tend to hunt for their own meat and accidents happen.”

  “Why the hell isn’t she here already?”

  “Nobody asked her,” Bachmann said in a flat voice. “You seem to think that everyone anticipates your needs. You need to lose that illusion.”

  “Get her here! Now!”

  “James, would you please ask Auntie Andi if she would please come over and look at our patient?”

  The man disappeared into the night.

  Riordan turned his attention back to his men.

  “Sergeant Dierks, how did these people escape?”

  “The best guess we have is that they walked away, Major. Probably had a vehicle a few miles down the road.”

  “Walked?”

  “If you move faster than that you tend to frost your lungs, sir. And that will kill you within minutes.”

  “So our pursuit was at a walk also?”

  “We didn’t even mount a pursuit, Major. There was no point in doing so.”

  “You arrived at this conclusion all by yourself?”

  “No, but I take responsibility.”

  “Do you know the penalty for failure in the Free—in my company?”

  “Yes, sir. But I also recognize futility when I encounter same.”

  “Major Riordan,” Bachmann said, “I would like to talk to you in my office.”

  “I’m busy right now, sorting out a sergeant.”

  “And I pay both your wages. Keep that in mind on the way to my office!”

  Riordan fought the wave of rage that welled up from deep inside his soul. He wanted nothing more than to kill the arrogant bastard.

  But I don’t know where he hides his money.

  The rage subsided but his anger didn’t.

  Riordan slammed the office door behind him. “What are you trying to do, make me look bad in front of my men?”

  “Shut up, Riordan!” Bachmann snapped. “I want you to understand that I’m running this operation, not you. You obviously don’t know shit about arctic survival; your sergeant did exactly the right thing.”

  “He didn’t do anything!”

  “Precisely! Keep in mind we’re training killers, not soldiers; expert assassins, not mercenaries. I want these men to hit their targets and get out of the area.”

  “What’s the point of killing a bunch of people if you’re not going to gain any territory?” Riordan felt baffled.

  “Are there snakes where you come from?”

  “Snakes? There are no snakes up here.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong, Major Riordan. We have an ample supply and your men are going to render them headless.”

  “Kindly tell me what the hell you are talking about, Bachmann.”

  “The Dená, the Tlingits, or Kolosh, and the Eskimos are planning to create an Alaska Republik. The Russians are gone for good. Political and civic venues are in upheaval and I mean to take advantage of that to secure my future.”

  “And I thought I was an optimist! Do you really believe that you and me and thirty, uh, twenty-eight guys good with weapons are going to take over an entire subcontinent?”

  “If you take out the top thirty people in a small nation, that doesn’t leave much above a colonel. We can handle colonels with our second shot.”

  “Do you think they’re all going to line up for you in one place?”

  “Actually, I do. But first we have to figure out who is harassing us and take care of them. Probably something to do with those men your guys used for target practice. Send two of your men to track them, but each one alone and a half hour apart.”

  “So we know when and where the first one dies.” Riordan allowed himself a slight smile. “You’re good at this stuff, Bachmann. You could go places.”

  “I fully plan to. And if you play your cards right, you can go with me.”

  112

  St. Anthony Redoubt, Provisional State of Doyon, Alaska Republik

  “Lieutenant Colonel Yamato, how good to see you again,” Colonel Stephan Romanov said. “Please, sit down.”

  The only thing that had changed in the colonel’s office was the absence of the Russian flag and he now wore a different uniform.

  “Thank you, Colonel,” Jerry said as he eased into the chair. “I am pleased to see you here, as well as Sergeant Severin. The Alaska Republik Army needs all the good people it can get. Not to mention, you know the area well.”

  “You honor me and my men.”

  “Having served so long in the California Air Force and now in the Republic’s army, my discipline has slid somewhat. Do you mind if I call you Stephan when we are not in proximity of others?”

  Romanov grinned. “My pleasure, Jerry. How is your fiancée and prospective in-laws?”

  Jerry mirrored Stephan’s grin. “Magda is fine. I feel so incredibly lucky to have found her.”

  “The way I heard it, she found you.”

  “Well, yeah, that’s probably closer to the truth. Pelagian and Bodecia are both well. And we’re all happy that the war is over.”

  “A most remarkable war, I must admit. Frankly, I thought I would end up in front of a firing squad at some point. I had no idea that events outside Alaska would make such a difference here.”

  “Nor did I. General Grigorievich asked me to take stock of what personnel and material we have here. I figured you would already have that information.”

  “Rightly so. We lost a third of our troops, and three officers, in the Battle of Delta. Two officers and nine troopers elected not to stay when I, and the majority of the garrison, went over to the Dená. So currently we have five officers and sixty-two soldiers.”

  “Compared to the rest of the army that’s not bad. The Dená lost a lot of people in the war and, since the cessation of hostilities, a good number have quit the uniform and gone home. I think there are more US and ROC troops in Alaska than Republic troops.”

  “Is that something we need to worry about? Foreign troops on our soil?”

  Jerry laughed. “Said the Russian to the Californian!”

  Stephan chuckled. “But we have found a new country, even helped create it. I haven’t seen that many US Army or ROC personnel changing uniforms.”

  “First of all, I don’t think we have to worry as long as both allies have a presence here. If one pulls out, then we might have to take measures. Second, I think that in the end, a lot of the ‘foreign’ troops just might elect to stay, despite this insane cold weather.”

  “I am amazed that you stayed, Jerry. I understand that California doesn’t have winter as such.”

  “Northern California has winter, but nothing like this. Besides, I fell in love and I think I can better adapt to Alaska than Magda can to California.”

  “I envy you. You have found happiness and a lovely, accomplished mate.”

  “I’ve noticed that there are a lot of lovely, accomplished Athabascan women out there, Stephan. And a lot of them are single and looking for a good man.”

  “Perhaps I don’t get out enough.”

  “Back to the inventory,” Jerry said, pulling a notebook from his pocket. “What do we have in the way of equipment?”

  “We had a Grigorovich fighter until a certain lieutenant flew away in it.” Stephan grinned.


  “You still have the fighter. That lieutenant managed to get it, and him, shot up a bit. Both are good as new and the Grigorovich will be returned to Delta Aerodrome so I can face Sergeant Suslov again.”

  Stephan’s face lost its animation. “He would be proud that you remembered his name, and happy that you kept your promise. But we lost Yuri Suslov to Russian artillery in the Battle of Delta.”

  Jerry winced. The sergeant’s good-humored face shining with gap-toothed pride flashed through his mind. So many good people, promising people, had been lost.

  “I am bereft to hear this. I wanted him to work on our P-61s. He was a superb maintenance sergeant.”

  “Yes. We also have a Sikorsky helicopter and most of a Yak 3.”

  “Helicopter? Do you still have a pilot for it?”

  “We have two, much to my surprise.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Our pilot officers are sons of a nobleman in St. Petersburg who is very close to the Czar. Without the influence of the Czar, neither of these men would have made it through officers’ training let alone flight training. Until we made contact with the Freekorps, both men were abject alcoholics.

  “One was wounded while they were on a reconnaissance flight over the Freekorps and nearly bled to death. This event sobered them in more ways than one. They both ceased drinking, became very good officers, and elected to stay here rather than go back to Russia.”

  “And they both made it through the war?”

  “Indeed, and brilliantly led troops in combat. I was astounded to say the least.”

  “Is the helicopter airworthy?”

  “Oh yes. We didn’t lose all of our mechanics, just the best one.”

  “With your permission, Stephan, I would like to have the airfield named after Sergeant Suslov.”

  Stephan’s eyes brightened. “I can think of no better name, nor a better way to show your Russian-born citizens that they made a difference and are fully accepted in this new republik. Thank you for that gesture.”

  “No thanks needed, sir. It’s the very least we can do. I hadn’t thought of it as a unifying gesture, but you’re right. If we both sign the request, I think Tanana will agree.”

  “It probably helps that you will soon be related to the First Speaker.”

  “Pelagian hasn’t been elected yet. He has a lot of campaigning to do before the May elections. People up north don’t know him as well as folks around here. Gri—General Grigorievich is going to take him down to the Tlingit country, uh, Sealaska State, and introduce him around. The general was very impressed with Pelagian during the constitutional convention.”