“I was in a POW camp when General Vlasov visited, recruiting for the RLA. He was already taking opportunity of war with Nazis to undermine Kremlin. With my own experience of horrors of collectivism in the Ukraine, I did not need convincing that Stalin was the real enemy of the Russian people.”
His eyes lit up and he boasted, “There were over one hundred thousand of us!”
“And after you joined Vlasov, you fought against your own countrymen?” Patton prompted.
“Da …” again the pain showed, but this time from a place where a deeper guilt emerged. Those they fought and killed would have been their friends or neighbors … even brothers.
Talking to the General was difficult He could sense he was under intense scrutiny, his honor being questioned, but he had to continue, he was here to build trust.
“At the Oder River in 1945 … it was January … very cold. As the Red Army attacked toward Berlin, our 1st Division made a stand alongside the Germans. We were beaten back and retreated toward Prague.”
Compassion welled up in the US General. Patton couldn’t help but admire Rhuzkoi’s conviction. While others may have seen him as a traitor to his country, it was plain to see that his intentions were to right the wrongs of a corrupt regime.
“You’re a very brave man Valentin.” he said quietly, in tune with the slow rhythmic walk of his horse.
“It takes guts to stand up for your ideals, and then take action to defend them.” Patton chuckled softly, “Why hell, you might have been right at home in the American Revolution!”
They continued on for several minutes without speaking. The only sound to disrupt the silent forest, the steady footfalls of the horses. Then the General got back to the subject of the tank battle at Kursk.
“Major, I’m particularly interested in the disposition of the Red Army heavy armor … and how the SUs and IS tank destroyers were integrated with the main battle tanks.”
The Major knew he could not jeopardize his mission by mistrusting the Americans. He proceeded to paint an accurate picture of the sheer, massive volume of Soviet forces at the Kursk salient. Within a one hundred and twenty mile front, over 1.3 million men, 3000 tanks and 20,000 pieces of artillery, arranged in a twenty-five mile deep system of main defenses. Within this area, they had prepared 10,000 miles of trenches and minefields, interspersed with countless bunkers, and anti-tank and machine gun positions.
Against this immense defensive system, the Nazis had thrown more divisions and aircraft than they had amassed for the invasion of Russia two years earlier.
Rhuzkoi also described how close the Germans had come to defeating his countrymen. Only a lack of resources such as fuel, and an insufficient number of divisions in reserve, had caused them to fall tragically short.
“Their heavy armor, in particular the Tiger tanks, were at times unstoppable. The guns of T-34s were useless against them. Some commanders even resorted to ramming the enemy giants.”
Patton thanked the Major for his account. It confirmed his own data, but he’d needed to hear it from Rhuzkoi himself. In the current post-war climate, trust was a valuable commodity.
His mind furiously processing the information, the general reinforced his ideas of the Red Army’s vulnerabilities. In his description of the battle, the major had described a kind of “mobile attrition” where armored units had continually destroyed each other in the fighting around key positions. Both sides incurred extremely high losses, and only the side with the most numerous resources could withstand them for a prolonged period. General Patton made a mental note on how to address this tactic with a plan he’d recently heard from one of his junior staff officers regarding the use of tank destroyers.
Lost in their own thoughts, the two made their way back to the villa where Colonel Blackett awaited them.
∞
And ye that live and move, fair creatures, tell,
Tell, if ye saw, how I came thus, how here?
John Milton
Paradise Lost
The Great Hall
Mojave City
2265 CE
“The soul … proven!”
The crowd suddenly hushed. Exasperated faces looked at each other, searching for a way to express what this new understanding would mean to them. No one had expected this. In the days leading up to the event, speculation had been rife that the announcement would be about the discovery of an extra-terrestrial civilization.
Arjon saw Margeaux’s face brighten, absolved of the burden she’d been carrying. Then it dawned on him, Of course! He turned to Eya and explained, “The law … imagine the ramifications!”
Eya’s mind, still grasping at the announcements ballooning possibilities … came back to earth with a thud. “Laws? Hey what about the important things … like death? Or the lack of it? Does this mean we’re eternal?”
Arjon laughed, as much at himself and his mortal viewpoint, as at his spouse’s joyful, if slightly fantastic speculation.
They turned their attention back to the Orator.
“The details of the founding research will be made available to the communication network shortly. For now, you must also be aware of an addendum to the decree … that the Free World will enact in all member countries, civilian legislation that will acknowledge, and by apropos, defend, the rights of a new legal entity – hereby known as the Human Spirit.”
Arjon chuckled, his mind spinning and weaving a framework of new possibilities. Not just for the way of life for all people – but also for his own career.
“Qwerty!” “This is literally going to change the world!”
They left the Hall to join the celebrations beginning in the streets outside. Pyrotechnic displays lit up the entire sky, the like of which had never been seen before. Light and sound rained down from high up in the atmosphere, providing a backdrop for the party which would last long into the night.
The celebrations continued over the next several days. Arjon and Eya hosted friends, enjoying the reveries over dinner.
“Just think …” Arjon mused, “I now have rights and legal consideration … above those limited to my physical form!”
Eya took a sip of champagne. The endless hours of conversation and exploring new ideas had been thrilling, but she was longing to return to her workshop and expend some of her pent-up creativity. She knew that newly charged inspiration would flow into her artwork as a torrent.
Arjon’s words called her back to the table.
“A new born child … innocent and untainted by the world they are entering, could have legal recourse against those who impair or cause that innocence to degenerate.”
“By default, the law must presume the innocence of the soul. Now that it is legally recognized, new laws must be framed so that they protect that innocence.”
Grillon emptied his glass. “People will think twice about having children, they could be liable for conspiracy to corrupt an individual … just by bringing them up wrong.”
“Just by being a negative influence or a poor role model!” added Margeaux.
As the conjecture continued, Eya daydreamed of ephemeral beings descending from a higher abode, transported to their place of birth and entering a newborn host.
“Oh look, on the holo … it’s about the Enlightenment!” said Margeaux excitedly.
They all turned toward an image of the Great Hall of the Center of Truth growing in clarity within the wall-size projection space of the holo-viewer.
“… has been released and we can now confirm the methodology of the scientific research.”
Silence gripped the dining room.
The Orator took the podium and began his confirmation. To accompany him, a stream of visual evidence began to display. Pictures of medical research establishments, a prone figure lying on an electrically charged platform … scientists dressed in isolation suits.
The most trusted figure in the Free World explained in a quiet and compelling tone, “… experiments, painstakingly performed over the preceding decades
, involving the use of DNA replication technology for cloning a human being, and also the quantum imaging of electric ionization boosted by stochastic resonance …”
He described with intricate detail how the research into cloning higher life-forms, such as human beings, had for years not progressed beyond creating an “empty shell.” Lower life-forms, such as sheep, pigs and even tool-wielding apes had been cloned in two ways. One, by implanting a DNA-altered embryo into a surrogate mother, and secondly, by incubating an altered egg to full maturity in an artificial gestation chamber.
But even those simple animals had to be “revived” from the gestation chamber in order to bring them to life. And although science had found a way to replicate the process of procreation, it still could not claim to have created life. It had just replaced an organic link in the chain with an artificial one. A viable, living egg had still been required.
Further, no sentient life-form capable of cognitive thought – or self-awareness, had been artificially cloned with success. An altered human embryo had only survived when gestation had been completed organically – within a human mother – until now.
The background history complete, the Orator raised his hand, “But that organic process didn’t prove how the ‘life-force’ belonging to the newborn came to be in the host. Perhaps it had simply generated from within, an inherent form of energy – a new mind awakened within an electro-chemical host, the brain.”
He then continued to describe how the critical evidence in the discovery came from a secondary branch of research using quantum imaging. Its origins lay in neural imaging techniques, and the controversial Kirlian effect, where images captured the “aura” of the departed component from a torn leaf. In a complex and high-risk experiment, a terminally-ill patient’s heart was stopped using a lethal depolarization impulse from a defibrillation device.
Once the volunteer, laying on an electrically-charged platform, was confirmed as deceased, revival of the clone in an adjacent gestation chamber began.
The dinner guests watched in fascination as the Kirlian imaging showed the ghostly shade of the departed human male leave the body laying prone on the platform. Then, as a medical team anxiously attempted to resuscitate the intended host, the clone – the ethereal form slowly moved across the few feet separating the two bodies … and simultaneously entered its now reviving host.
∞
St. Querin, Germany
July 1945
The pfederställe at the villa in St. Querin were typical for housing the many horses of the Bavarian nobility. A long stone building with rows of stables interspersed by tack and feed rooms. Colonel Blackett stopped in the breezeway to admire a huge but docile black warmblood.
“He’s a Percheron from Western France,” General Patton pointed out. “They make excellent hunters.”
Blackett stroked the wide forehead, having to brush aside the large handful of forelock to reveal the kind eyes below. Although he had a reputation in the OSS of being a stone-cold killer, animals always brought out his softer side.
His smile faded as he heard Patton add, “Heavy horses like this one had been used to trample infantry in the Middle Ages.”
As they walked along the barn the General felt compelled to share his thoughts on the information he’d gathered from Major Rhuzkoi on the morning ride.
“The Russkies still have a sizeable army of occupation in Eastern Europe. We’re going to need a different strategy than the one we used to beat the Nazis.”
“I agree. Though there are civilian reports we’ve gathered from people crossing the border from the East – that there are mass desertions from the Red Army.”
“What? Going home because there aren’t enough civilians left for them to rape?”
“Regardless of the reasons for the desertions,” Blackett continued, “Stalin is infiltrating communists into the governments of the countries they occupy. We can expect there may be political, and even military resistance from some of those quarters.”
Patton pondered for a moment, then said dismissively, “Those that have any military forces intact. If they were fighting alongside the Germans, like the Hungarians and the Romanians did, then they won’t have much left to fight with.”
They walked out of the stables and into the cool, late summer air. Stopping at a gate leading into the paddock, Blackett could see why the General had chosen this place as his headquarters. The meadow beyond positively glowed with lush green grass, stretching all the way to the shadowed dark of the forest.
“We’ll have all of our data ready for your trip to Washington,” he said with conviction.
“Good. The critical piece is the document we received from the RLA – the evidence we have of an impending attack by the Soviets. That’ll silence any doubters that may have the President’s ear. Then the Commander in Chief can concentrate on the influencers in Congress.”
The General stood as tall and somber as a bronze statue, steel blue eyes gazing out over the rural setting as though he were storing the image for later use. Perhaps to him it was a kind of Eden, an ideal to keep him going while he endured the upcoming process of getting politicians to see his way of thinking.
“Our hope is that once they are convinced of the threat we face here… then the continuation of strategic war production will only be a formality.”
Blackett agreed, “And I’m sure with your influence in the General Staff there will be little opposition to getting priority given to your specific programs.”
“There better not be. Air power isn’t going to be an issue, or getting the T32s to full production, but if we don’t get the new 203mm SPs we need, then the ground war will be very difficult.”
Blackett nodded, but Patton sensed he wanted to hear more.
“Those 203s have a high angle of fire – so they can hit the rear side of hills.”
He smirked. “I don’t expect we’ll see much of the Reds front on … they’ll be behind hills or hiding underground, not out in the open where we can just roll right over them.”
A thoughtful silence followed, as the two men soaked up the atmosphere of the peaceful meadow and horses grazing blithely nearby, oblivious to the apocalyptic planning occurring just out of earshot.
Patton shivered, although the heat from the bright sunshine was palpable.
“As Napoleon once said … to extraordinary circumstances we must apply extraordinary remedies.”
∞
Mojave City
2265 CE
The speculation after dinner had been vibrant after the Enlightenment’s follow-up demonstration. What had they actually seen? Was it a collection of photons held together by some inter-dimensional force? If part of the soul existed in another dimension, and that dimension was accessible from this one … then there must be some transitional state.
“So we saw the patient’s soul detaching from the mind of the original body, then moving to the clone – a new host … with a completely empty mind?” asked Grillon.
“Yes – apparently the patient has the mental state of a newborn baby,” Arjon responded, reading a news update from his hand-held.
“All of this is going to be too hard …” Eya pointed out, thinking way ahead as she tended to do.
“How will people know what impact their words or actions are having on innocent children?”
“Hmmm … we’ll need a decision matrix for the human mind!” Arjon offered.
“I’m sure the Bureau of Sanity will already be working on it.”
“No seriously …” Eya giggled, and then suddenly frowned, “Oh, we can’t let the BoS get a hold of this.”
“That’s their job,” said Arjon flatly. “And yes, if there is an ideal mental state to which we should aspire –a healthy mind and contented soul – then let that also be a definition of our sanity.”
“But … they’re so … logical!” she protested.
Arjon laughed. Logic and judgment went hand in hand for him. One of the reasons he worked with the law
was that to him, they were inseparable. Even if a verdict had in some way been influenced by emotion, or a supposed sense of justice … you could always define it logically. Rationalize it. The heart belonged in paintings and literature, not government and law making.
“The Bureau of Sanity has held the world together. More so than the Union of Nations or any of the other pillars of our society!”
“You know full well that I disagree with that,” Eya reminded him. “The Spire of Evolution has led the world to where it is now. Would we have attained this utopia … this nirvana, without guiding the human form into a flawless state?”
“Yes, I suppose there is some merit in that line of thinking,” he conceded, “… with no disease or infection, and the achievement of near-perfect cellular replication, the social burdens that result from our physical degeneration no longer afflict us.”
“We still don’t know how long we can expect to live – over five hundred years is the latest estimate,” added Grillon, looking thoughtfully into his wine glass.
Eya sighed, it was pointless to try to compare the Pillars. Deep down she might have even believed the Center of Truth had the foremost role in humanity’s ascent from chaos. Their role as the administrators of both scientific verification and spiritual confirmation, two disciplines who were previously in opposition to each other, had been pivotal in keeping the other pillars in sync. She remembered playing a game with the other little girls called “Round the Stump.” One girl would sit down away from the other girls, who would take turns skipping around the “pillar” girl in a relay. The pillar would slowly rise to a standing position, but have to sit down again if the skipping girl finished in time. Then another girl became the pillar, and so on, until they all got too tired to finish.
The Free World War Page 3
