A week is a long time in politics.
Pre-Fall statesman
Dispatch from [redacted] to [redacted]
Follow-up to the previous report, dated June 12th, 2173.
Item 1, high-priority.
Pertaining to previous instructions on potential out-of-state saboteurs and agitators, I confirm the presence of out-of-state elements in New Sandusky. However, I have seen little to no attempts at any political or criminal activity. Instead, the five immigrants, four of which have already confirmed residency locally (copies of registration forms for all five attached), seem to be setting up a major salvage-oriented corporation. At least two teams of the salvager’s haunt (ref. “High and Dry”) and a number of independents seem to have signed onboard (see tentative list attached).
They already did a large expedition to the Marches of the Lake with significant success; they also sold at least three Artifacts (see attached note for commercial evaluation by the local salvage wholesaler) and seem to have obtained loans from the local bank based on the strength of their skills. As usual, getting information out of the local bank is hard.
Their company is now preparing for an even bigger expedition to the East Coast death zone. I have no detailed information on why such a risky endeavor, and it does not match the profile of expected agitators. They also have secured the services of a scholar from Nashville’s Academy of Post-Fall Physics, and additional help in the form of a minotaur, presumably as specialists of some sort.
Current local analysis: Pure commercial venture, possibly owing to Artifact detection abilities. Barring instructions to the contrary, this will be demoted to middle/low priority. No other out-of-state unknown visitors to report so far.
Item 2, low priority.
The local pastor is investigating miracles. There is a local merchant (see attached bio) that was wheelchair-bound for more than a decade that has been spotted walking with a walking stick. The merchant dismissed rumors of divine intercession and attributed her partial recovery to…
Next report is scheduled no later than July 15th, 2173.
Unsigned
Harold Wexler, Executive of the State of Independence, was looking forward to the weekend. Even the Executive, the top position of the foremost, richest, and most populated State of the Union, even he deserved to kick his feet up on a recliner, get some real good booze from his private stock, and unwind by listening to his wife gleefully tell him of all the weird fashion crazes that came around every year during summer.
But until that weekend, shit regularly crawled up to his desk, and thus, there were meetings to be had.
The buck stops here, as the Ancients said, Wexler grimaced internally while keeping a straight face as his secretary announced the next item on the agenda.
“Bi-monthly Report from Internal Affairs next.”
“Usual staffer or direct?”
“Undersecretary Michaelson is there. Again.”
“Well, show her in. What’s after her?”
“Finance bill prep…”
“I can’t cancel it, can I?”
The smile of his secretary told him the sad truth.
“At least Katia is more entertaining.”
“Take a seat,” he said. “Drink?”
“Brown Moonshine,” she replied. “It’s much better here than the stuff at the office.”
“Well, you know the address.”
“Yea, but can my minions remember it? It looks like the answer is no.”
Harold poured two – small – drinks. He always did that himself, it smoothed out the relations with the various people he relied upon to keep the mechanics of the State of Independence running efficiently. Then he relaxed in his chair as his Internal Affairs Undersecretary opened her notes folder.
“So, you’ve taken to giving these reports personally these days, Katia?”
“I might as well. After all, you started that fire under my desk with this talk of potential sabotages from the Marches of the Montana. Speaking of which, I still have no idea why the Marches, and why now?”
He smiled back at her inquiring looks.
“Need-to-know, I’m afraid. It’s very, very serious.”
“More than Franchisees?” she asked.
The usual agitators for the universal franchise were bad enough, Wexler admitted. Like most politicians in Independence, he was of the opinion that letting everyone vote without a modicum of qualification was a recipe for disaster. He’d read enough stories of the pre-Fall politics to have a strong opinion on anyone who’d let that happen. People would vote for anyone who promised them impossible things, just because they didn’t even realize it was impossible. Various “Democratic” organizations agitated for that one issue, some a bit violently.
Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.
“It’s an external matter, not one of those things. I have Robert’s spy network fully mobilized, his budget expanded, and the army working out scenarios, but it’s not easy.”
“Do I hear fourth war?”
Katia Michaelson was smart, of course, Harold had to admit. Show her two pieces, and she’d draw most of the puzzle if they were the right ones. The prospect of a Fourth War of Unification was what made Harold Wexler very, very nervous.
And looking forward to a weekend without too many hassles.
“It’s not quite that bad. Well, okay, not yet. Robert expects we’ll see signs if, let’s say, Maistry gets what he wants – what he needs – to get that kind of capacity.”
“So, you’re not expecting trouble. Not yet.”
“We don’t know how, when. Or, well, even if. It might be a non-starter, and he might fail to get… that working. But it does not hurt to keep watch on potential… distractions at home.”
Katia nodded, then shrugged.
“So, do you want Nashville and our esteemed visitor first, or the basic boring stuff first?”
“Let’s skim over the basic stuff.”
Katia started going over her notes. All in all, it looked like the usual shenanigans were going on across the State, with more cities adopting a laissez-faire policy after the Assembly had upheld the repeal of the palisade laws.
“Very little activity on the Franchisee front, actually,” she reported. “If Maistry wants to stir shit here, that’s probably who he’d use as stooges.”
There was a special report on the Nashville Sky Watchers. It was one of the conspiracy cults that managed to survive since the Fall, convinced of knowing a secret truth about it. They believed in Ancients in space that could still use Ancient technology, and might even have caused the Fall. The Watchers kept watching for a legendary place in the sky, rumored to have been moving on its own long after the Fall made such a thing impossible.
Katia knew that the cult was always of interest to Harold, seeing as his son was still nominally a member, although an outer member, not privy to the mysteries of the inner believers.
Harold, of course, had complete summaries of the beliefs transmitted under oath by that inner circle. And an analysis by the Academy of Post-Fall Physics astronomers about the probable fate of said station in the sky. If the Sky Watchers expected to see signs of their fabled five, they would have to watch forever.
“We’ve been checking all sorts of people from all over, not just the Northwest since last year, as you requested. Most of the latter appear to be simple refugees running away from an ongoing war.”
“I suspect the Warden calling for a general mobilization will not help,” Harold said.
“True. Most have settled, taken jobs, the usual. If you really think they might be trouble later, then I’ll recommend my agents keep them under close watch, even without signs.”
“Please do so. Any special group of them?”
“Nothing matching an agitator profile. The most unusual is a group of five that have taken up scavenging near the Lake Marches, and…”
She consulted her notes.
“Apparently, they want to do an expedition into the East Coast zones. They have roped in a few of the local salvagers to help.”
“That’s not quite the sabotage I’d expect,” Harold laughed.
“Not quite. You always get people thinking that, with the slow reduction in mana zones, maybe the coast will become accessible. Most survive the experience. So, for the main and important part…”
“The Warden’s Adjutant in Nashville,” Harold said, straightening.
“So, he tried to recruit Ernesto Gomez,” the Executive said.
“The so-called Talent scholar, yes. I got reports from the University that the Montana had specifically inquired about him. Unfortunately for Agnello, the Professor was away on some kind of trip when he arrived in town. Why?”
Harold Wexler hesitated.
“That’s linked to what we’re investigating. That’s both a good sign and a worrisome sign.”
“How so? You’re still going to tell me need-to-know, aren’t you?”
Harold sighed.
“Well, I’m the one who decides that, after all. You probably need some context… So, yes. Our intel from the Northwest says that the Warden might be in possession of… an Artifact that can be used to confer Talents. Multiple ones, and permanently, not like the usual.”
Katia whistled.
“If he can raise an army of Burning Walkers, I can see why this would be a problem. How easy is it?” she asked.
“We don’t know, but we’re assuming it’s not trivial. If he’s trying to recruit an expert on the nature of Talents, then he’s definitively not cracked it. Yet.”
“What makes you think it’s doable then?”
“There were some that got multiple Talents from it. They ran away, and we got possible reports about how they maybe went to Yellowstone, based on some deserters there.”
He tried to remember the reports. For those, he didn’t just skim the summaries, but details still blurred after a while.
“Someone called Coby something told his family about four Talented deserters who might show up. Or maybe they got to the eastern frontier since Robert’s people got rumors about Talented or Artifacts from there. I guess they’re in hiding.”
“Talents? Powerful?”
“Like magical fire artillery. With perfect aim.”
Katia whistled again.
“And the occurrence of those Talents is not natural?”
“Zero chance of a random occurrence. Or we are being snookered, but I doubt it. Robert says there is enough independent confirmation. The Warden himself went to some random city of no particular importance away from the front, for quote-some reason-unquote. The Adjutant was also staying there before and left for Nashville only when Maistry replaced him. That kind of distraction in the middle of a war does not happen for no reason.”
“Well, his Adjutant is definitively active now that he’s here, and not just on the political front. Besides his inquiries to the Academy in Nashville, there’s a more than usual activity at the Montana embassy.”
“Agents being activated?”
“Certainly.”
“What about Gomez?”
“I got copies of the rejection letters once his interest in him was made obvious. He’s taken a leave of absence…”
Harold straightened, but Katia waved him down.
“No, he didn’t. As I mentioned, he was away before the Adjutant arrived, on some research trip north.”
She consulted notes again.
“Apparently negotiating the purchase of some kind of Artifact? Or expertise on its effects, maybe. His letter to the Academy says he expects to be back by October, with, I quote, ‘lots of ancient books’.”
Harold frowned again, and Katia shrugged.
“He is a Professor, after all. Not just of Talents, but of physics and engineering.”
“Keep watch on him anyway. Anything Talent-related is making me nervous these days,” Wexler said.
“Will do.”
Letter from Ernesto Gomez to the Nashville Academy of Post-Fall Physics
Mrs. Nathalie Viggins,
Nath, I’m sorry, but that little outing of mine will be a mite longer than I expected initially. Like, probably October. I know, first semester and all. Yvon can cover for me. I’m sure the students will appreciate it. As long as he prepares them for my inevitable return.
I did not expect to find what I found here, and that has changed my plans. This is an opportunity of a lifetime. If the Dean starts grumbling, tell him to wait until I return, and he’ll be more than happy to see the results. I know he has little time for my side studies, but it will be worth it in the end, I promise.
I thank you for notifying me of that delegation from Montana’s embassy. I suspect my second rejection did not sit well with them. My position hasn’t changed. Unless they tell me what they want my expertise for, my current research subjects are, let’s say, far more interesting than what they offer right now. Besides, the Marches are far away, and a bit more dangerous these days, so I need something more than some nebulous “world-shaking” matters. When it comes to world-shaking, I am quite blasé these days. If they come back and pester you again, you can tell them I’ll be back in three months or so.
Meanwhile, regarding my research expedition, I have a few things I could use. If you can get Estrella to find me copies of everything we have on Washington, the Ancient city on the East Coast, and more importantly the Library of Congress there, it would be very useful. Yes, you can show this letter to her, and yes, it is what she thinks it is. I will negotiate room in the wagons to bring whatever we find. In fact, if she has a list of what Ancient books or copies of we have in the library, it will be perfect. It wouldn’t do to bring back only copies of what she already has. Attached is where you should send me that. Be quick, I’ll be moving soon.
See you in October. Maybe early November, at worst.
Prof. Ernesto Gomez
END OF ACT 2