December World - game thread

[Masada]

The Judges

The sign on the door reads: "Senior Disciplinary Committee for the Correction of Cadres". An old women walks to the door and enters. The room she enters is sparse, three chairs with two occupied and a wooden table face the door. A steaming tea pot and three cups are the only things that occupy the table. The women who has just entered greets the other two women. All the women in the room are old with grey hair and lined faces. One is slightly taller than the others, but that is all that differentiates them. Their uniforms are identical, forest green tunics that run from a high peaked collar straight down to their ankles cinched at the middle with polished black belts, sensible buns all but hidden under black peaked caps.

Fan: In the name of Hong and Christ I open these proceedings. Amen.

Zhang: Amen.

Huang: Amen.

Fan: I apologise for the late hour. The request comes from elder brother. As usual I was told the matter couldn't wait. You know how they are. Boys.

Fan rolls her eyes and throws her hands in the air while laughing.

Zhang: Things are strange these days. This is the second time this month. I hope they made it worth your while.

Fan: Tobacco. Enough for three pipes.

Zhang: Well that's something. Elder brother doesn't usually spring for the good stuff. Stingy bastards.

Huang spits. The other two women look at her with knowing glances.

Huang: Something's up. Elder brother don't do gifts. I don't like it. Let's start.

Fan: Right, well, let's have a look at what we've got.

Zhang reaches into her jacket and pulls out an envelope tied with red ribbon. She undoes the ribbon, pockets it and opens the envelope revealing three pieces of paper dense with characters and ruled lines.

Fan: Okay. Miss Min Zhang. Born 11 January 1867. Ascension Day. Good luck that. Han. Born Nanjing. Cadre entrance 1882. Young for that honour. Social class...

There's a long pause here as Fan swallows and looks around in confusion.

Fan: Kang Zhang. Old Believer. National martyr.

Huang laughs and nods to herself. She reaches for the tea pot and pours herself a cup. She takes a sip.

Haung: More to come. Bound to be.

Fan: Foreign contacts nil. No notes on physical appearance. Family and relatives: Father dead. He was the national martyr. Killed outside Shanghai in 1867. Mother AI Rengan.

There's another laugh pause. Fan looks shaken. Huang doesn't laugh and with shaking hands put down the tea cup. Zhang looks confused.

Zhang: Can we be sure?

Fan: Yes. See here. Her godfather. The chop reads Prince Gan. Dear God.

Haug: See. More to come.

Fan reaches into her coat and produces a pouch and pipe. The air fills with the slightly acrid smell of tobacco. The other women nod at fan and produce their own pipes. Each takes the pouch in turn and fills their pipe lighting it from the small brazier under the tea pot. The speed of the operation suggests this is a regular occurrence.

Fan: The mother must be a cousin of Prince Gan.

Another pause as Fan draws in a deep breath of smoke. She looks almost afraid. Another puff sees her continue.

Fan: No other siblings. Father died young perhaps? No. He was 30. Married late then. Tragic. Primary education at the Lai Xiying Institute for Daughters of National Martyrs. Further education at the Madam Wang Institute. Two commendations at the national level. English. Manchu. Two commendations at the provincial level. Japanese. French. Excellent marks. No wonder she was a cadre at 15. First job. Political Section 44th Division. Rose to Senior Political Cadre. Honourable discharge. Second job is in the Foreign Language Institution. No further information.

Huang: Obvious. Baby spy.

Fan: Yeah, seems like it. Third job is listed as...

Zhang interrupts.

Zhang: Junior Clerk in the Ministry of Rites?

Fan: Exactly so.

Huang: So we have baby spy. Very good family. Very good education. Godfather is Prince Gao. What she done?

Fan turns the paper to look at the charges and snorts.

Fan: You won't believe this. I'm quoting this verbatim.

The investigation instituted by the organs of the House of Merciful Vigilance has established that on the instructions of the intelligence services of foreign states hostile to the Heavenly Kingdom the accused in the present case attempted to organize a conspiratorial group the object of which was to overthrow the Heavenly Kingdom and restore the Manchu Warlord to power.

Lacking all support within the Heavenly Kingdom, the accused in their struggle against the Heavenly Kingdom placed their hopes exclusively in the armed assistance of foreign aggressors, who promised the conspirators this assistance on the condition that the Heavenly Kingdom was to be dismembered and that the provinces of Guangdong, Fujian, Zhejiang, Jiangsu and Shangdong be hand over to the foreigners.

This agreement between the accused and the representatives of the aforementioned foreign states was facilitated by the fact that the accused was proficient in the languages of the foreign powers and had extensive access to foreigners including agents of foreign intelligence services and had for many years carried on espionage activities on behalf of these intelligence services.

The accused is furthermore carrying a document that constitutes a significant threat to the Heavenly Kingdom which must be intercepted before it can reach the hands of foreign intelligence hands. This document must absolutely not be read under pain of death so grave is the threat it poses to the Heavenly Kingdom. The Disciplinary Committee for the Correction of Cadres is asked to issue a directive requiring that all organs of the state assist to their fullest the capture of the accused.

Further, the accused is charged with treason, conspiring with the enemy, espionage, and such other offenses as theSenior Disciplinary Committee for the Correction of Cadres might think appropriate. The materials in the possession of the accused and held by the House of Merciful Vigilance in the present case establish the guilt of the accused and the gravity of the charges warrant an immediate sentence of death. It is regrettable that these documents cannot be provided to the Senior Disciplinary Committee for the Correction of Cadres owing to their sensitive contents.

Huang: Strange.

Zhang: What other information is in the file, Fan?

Fan: Nothing.

Zhang: Do you want my read of this?

Fan: You're the expert.

Zhang: Maybe. Who knows. Here's my read:

Elder brother hired a girl whose good with languages. As Huang said, a baby spy. But elder brother made a mistake. They hired a girl whose godfather is their sworn enemy. There's only one answer really. They only read the short file. The short file only has the father's name on it. All they saw was a regular old Zhang. Zhang the orphan. Her father dead in the war. They saw what they wanted too. Sloppy work. The error would have been picked up if elder brother had read the long file – the one we've got with us now – they'd have seen the mother's maiden name and who her godfather was. They didn't. I assume the girl didn't know just what her godfather was. I suppose it's never really come up? “Hello goddaughter. I'm not just a Prince. I'm also God's dagger in the night”.

The others visibly blanch at the casual blasphemy. Zhang waves the others off and makes the five motions of the cross.

Zhang: Sorry, it's an old joke. Anyways, the girl heard something, or saw something or read something. It must have been something juicy about her godfather. I suppose that's when she learned just what Prince Gao was. She's shocked. But she's smart this girl. She avoids the telegrams and post. Those are controlled by younger brother and younger brother is tight with elder brother. So she makes for the roads. Prince Gao's up north isn't he?

Fan: Yeah, he's in Beijing.

Zhang: So she takes to the roads. She's making good choices this girl. She knows the roads are controlled by younger sister and younger sister really hates the brothers. But she doesn't reveal herself to young sister. She figures that younger sister is a leaky boat. I suppose our baby spy knows that for a fact. So she runs. Why does she run though? Elder sister has offices in Nanjing.

Huang: She knew elder sister is leaky.

Zhang: That's a disquieting thought. But why did elder brother come to us?

Huang: Simple. Younger sister like us. We old friends.

Zhang: But why ask us? They know we're close to elder sister too.

Huang: They use short file. They still ignorant of who girl is. She just a traitor to them.

Zhang: That's quite an oversight.

Huang: Elder brother sloppy. Hire girl. Sloppy. What changed?

Zhang: That makes sense. So what do we do?

Fan sits back in her chair. Takes a deep breath of her pipe which is starting to die.

Fan: Elder brother could at least have given us more tobacco. I guess we'll have to tell elder sister then. But we've done that haven't we Zhang?

Zhang: Maybe.

There's a smile on Zhang's lips. She rises out of her chair. Taps out her pipe on the table. The ash drifts on the breeze.

Zhang: You will have to excuse me ladies. I'm going to have to step out to use the facilities. I won't be long. In the meantime, can you draft a response? Something polite but noncommittal requesting additional information would be perfect. Thanks.

Zhang walks out of the room taking the now empty tea pot with her. The other two sit in a state of stunned silence. It was one thing to suspect that Zhang was an elder sister but it was quite another thing to have that confirmed. The brazier has burned low and the room is almost black. In the murky darkness comes the sound rummaging, fabric rubbing against fabric, and then two flares of light. Smoke curls in the darkness.

Fan: That's from my own stash. You owe me one.

Huang: You should have said that before you gifted me some tobacco, comrade.

 

[Ahigin]

Just a reminder to all of you out there that the first, early deadline is 3 days away.

Early orders deadline for Update 3, i.e., all economic, domestic, and diplomatic orders are due by: October 16, 2017, 9 am CST
Late orders deadline for Update 3, i.e., all military orders are due by: October 20, 2017, 11 pm CST.

 

[tobiisagoodboy]

The People of Tyrol race to help their cousins

Spoiler Tiroler Standschützen :

Thousand of proud sons of Tyrol are gathering and preparing to assist their Northern cousins in their struggle against the French and Hungarian invaders.
Several wealthy private persons from the regionare supplying the proud men with supplies and weapons.
The Italian goverment itself has not given any official statement to this matter, they neither support the volunteers, nor did they anything to stop them.
Experts say that this won't change very fast, since the Italian goverment has no real interest to stop these men from fighting in the War in the North.

 

[thomas.berubeg]

This isn't really an RP post, but rather a place for this information if anyone is interested. (Ahigin, anyone else writing stories that might include CSA manufacturing)

Here are the major manufacturers in the CSA, whether it be automotive or other heavy machinery.


Tannehill
Scott-Gaar & Co
Park & Lyons
Roupes Valley
Shenandoah Steel
Withers
Schofields
Confederate Powder Works
Arsenal
Austenaco
Nanye-hi

The last two of which are Cherokee companies.

 

[Ahigin]

Orders are due in less than 24 hours.

 

[Belgarion95]

“Following the overthrow of military junta by Communard groups in the wake of the famous “High March,” there existed a period of quiet rebuilding. Due to the lack of prolonged armed struggle, there hadn’t been a particularly large military build-up by the victorious Communard revolutionaries, and there had thus been little need for centralized institutions. DeLuna’s new government in Lima existed in name only; its “Citizen Directives” were ignored in all but the nearest of the highlands, and the limited capacity for taxation afforded an extremely size-limited armed police force. Recruits needed to be paid fair wages, DeLuna insisted; this respect and compensation was important without the immediate threat of counter-revolutionary forces to bind them together. Highland confederacies began to congeal around strongmen, and the solidification of this fracturing was imminent.

“In order to achieve buy-in for Unified Andean rule by the “Oficina de Coordinación Comunista” (OCC) from the now self-governing highland valley agrarian communes, former-plantations, indigenous communities, Union-run towns and cities, etc, DeLuna enshrined in the new constitution a compromise; centralized executive powers and legislature in exchange for massively devolved powers to Communes. The document also formally defined this unit of government as democratic, intensely local, and responsible for everything not explicitly in the national interest. Each contributed a portion of its taxes to the OCC, and received security and an OCC congressional representative in return; for all else, (medicine, education, utilities) they were responsible.

The Congress of the OCC, being composed of 864 voting members, seemed at first too large to be able to meaningfully agree upon anything. This is the story of how DeLuna's government, constructed entirely on the back of these squabbling local interests, has nevertheless been able to succeed in retaining support among its many constituencies. Important questions are asked, and answered. How is consensus achieved among comrades who are rarely in the same place? To what extent does this regime depend upon the personal charisma of Marco DeLuna? And will, most importantly, the 'United Communes' ever truly be united?”

- Promotional material published internationally for the coming Biography: "DeLuna: Justice, Dignity, and a United Andes," by Enrique Talmare.

 

[Ahigin]

Crisis update

Franko-Austrobavarian War
Citing liberation of Francophone workers in the region of Alsace-Lorraine lost by France on the last stages of the Communard Revolution, the Commune of Communes declared war on the Princely Confederation of Austria, Bavaria, and the Rhineland. So far, the Austrobavarians have received plenty of diplomatic support, but no real commitments from their neighbors (with a sole exception of the Triune Kingdom of Illyria, but that may change soon.

Austrobavaro-Hungarian War
In an opportunistic move unexpected by the many, Hungary, a fellow Hapsburg monarchy, sent an ultimatum to Austria-Bavaria that was essentially masking what many neighboring nations have called an aggressive blackmail. The Congress of Brno, summoned in futile efforts to thwart the war and preserve peace, produced no results, as Austrobavarian neighbors merely expressed their condemnation with little will to risk the lives of their men on the battlefield. However, anti-Hungarian sentiment in both Germany and Russia is growing, and it remains to be seen if these nations would choose to act upon it, after all. Meanwhile, Austrobavarian allies in Illyria have confirmed they would be standing by their protector in this war, while the Hungarian puppet state of Romanian Domnate has followed the Hungarian lead and declared war on Austria-Bavaria and Illyria.

Tokugawa-Donghak War
The Tokugawa Shogunate didn't bother preparing popular opinion even inside of its country to the war it was planning. With little pretext, but a simple desire to finish its conquest of Korea, started, but unfinished less than ten years ago, the Shogunate has declared war on the nation that is still drifting in administrative and constitutional limbo.

All players are now free to declare their pile-in moves and join the wars as they see fit for another 24 hours.

 

[Nuka-sama]

Did I miss Immaculate's post declaring war? I can't seem to find it

 

[Ahigin]

Did I miss Immaculate's post declaring war? I can't seem to find it

He did it via his orders. It's allowed by the ruleset.

 

[Nuka-sama]

Gotcha, just wanted to make sure I was not going crazy

 

[Shadowbound]

Converte gladium tuum in locum suum. Omnes enim, qui acceperint gladium, gladio peribunt.

 

[Traveller76]

El Heraldo de California
A Transcontinental Railroad?
As the program to expand the railroad network in Mexico nears completion many have already asked what is the next step for the FMN. We may have an answer with the rumor that the FMN is planning a Transcontinental Railroad stretching from Dallas, Texas to Los Angeles in cooperation with the Confederate States of America. The idea is not new, the United States was planning and building a similar railroad through the central parts of their country until the Atlantic War and the succession of the Confederacy placed the plan on hold. With the restoration of law and order in the northern parts of the country the idea has gained popularity in Mexico City. Already the Army and Rurales garrisons are being enlarged and surveyors been spotted in several towns and citites across the north. However the FMN has not made any official statements as of yet. According to the FMN "We are in the early stages of this plan and will make a full announcement when all data has been collected and the government votes on a plan."

Rural Education to receive additional investment
Last year we saw the government expand investment into improving the rural education system. Despite some slow starts the program will receive additional investments from the national government and foreign investors according to the Secretariat of Public Education. "Education is the key for our country to progress. The children of today will become the workers and leaders and soldiers of tomorrow. We cannot simply rely on sheer numbers of men or the traditional economy in order to protect our country or provide for her people. We must work hard but be more skilled and intelligent. We already see such programs being implemented across the world, Mexico should and will do the same."

President Diaz to run for Re-Election
President Porfirio Diaz announced that he will run for re-election this year under the slogan Paz y Progreso (Peace and Progress). President Diaz, first elected in 1877 has helped the country reclaim portions of the country lost to the former United States, expand the economy and industry along with improvements in education and social policy. The country has also seen the expansion of the Guardia Rurales to combat banditry and has started programs to improve the arms and equipment for the Army and the police. Many believe that the President will win easily against his opponents.

 

[JohannaK]

The Sikh Empire formally issues a condemnation of Japan's unilateral and unprovoked military action in Korea. The spectre of Imperialism that Europe has brought to our shores is reflected on the mirror of the Eastern seas as if it were a rising sun.

Beware, our Asian fellows, that we should not devour each other in foolish imitation. We must not follow: we must learn. We must be different, we must be better than the foreigners who walk our streets as if they were theirs, and use the backs of our brethren for footstools. Beware and redress course before your feet lay on Korean's backs.

 

[Masada]

The Spy – Part 1:

The Church service had already begun when Min Zhang entered. The faithful standing, the voices of the congregation rising in song:

Our Father, which art in heaven,
Hallowed be thy Name.

She sees a half empty pew, near the door her only neighbor an older women in a Ministry of Rites uniform with a pin on her collar marking her as a unit head of the Woman's League. Min Zhang takes her seat with care. Next to her the woman sniffs the air and her nose wrinkles with disgust. Min looks down at the bandage around her right arm. A faint red mark is now visible past the edge of the bandage. She presses a finger to the mark and can feel the heat. Infection. No wonder she was starting to smell.

Thy kingdom come.
Thy will be done,

With care she turns her head to watch the entrance to the church. She sees Pan enter unaccompanied. He begins to move towards her and takes a seat a few pews down. Before he sits he waves and smiles at her. Min feels cold now and wraps her mantilla tighter around her head. Her neighbor taps her and the pain of the touch to her wounded arm causes her to pass out. She wakens second later to see her neighbor gesturing her to pay attention to the service. No matter where you were, it seemed to Min, you could always count on a Woman's Leaguer to be officious.

in earth as it is in heaven.
Give us this day our daily bread.

The Church was large, the biggest in Jinan. The stained glass windows around the Church showed the story of Jesus' birth on the right side: three wise men, the shepherds, angels, a donkey and Mary and Joseph beaming with beatific delight. On the left was Hong's birth the images mirrors except for the Chinese looking parents and the three wise men. Instead of Persian non-believers, there were European heretic priests come to marvel at the Savior of the East. Above all of them was a dragon of iridescent gold, the Holy Spirit, and higher still was God his long wispy beard curling down from Heaven to cradle his two sons born on other sides of the world and ages apart.

And forgive us our trespasses,
As we forgive them that trespass against us.

This was Min's third week on the run.

And lead us not into temptation;
But deliver us from evil:

Elder brother had only realized she had run on the second day. The posters pasted with her photo and scarlet characters saying “Please help in the arrest of notorious traitor Min Zhang” confirmed that. At the time she had been pleased her ruse had held up that long. All she had done was pretend to be sick. Stuffing some clothes under her quilt had been afterthought. Escaping the compound was as simple as throwing her coat over the barbed wire and scaling the wall. Dropping on onto the other side Min waited for a shout and hearing none walked off with her head down.

For thine is the kingdom, the power,
and the glory, for ever and ever.

Reaching what seemed to be a quiet alley Min changed into a Ministry of Rites uniform and matching identification card in the name of Chen Fan. Chen Fan's haircut wouldn't have looked out of place on her grandmother, her uniform was ill-fitting and the fabric a coarse cotton and her mantilla hid her entire face. Chen was plain and the kind of girl who would never get married. She was fated to forever fade into crowds, to be overlook for promotions and ignored by those around her. She was, in other words, the perfect cover.

Amen.

Min hadn't taken much out of her religious education. But she had always loved the story of the fall, how the serpent had come into the garden, tempted Adam into eating the orange and how man has ever since been burdened with sin. Sine the fall nobody had been prefect and Chen was no different. Min was not sure how elder brother had figured out her cover. She had taken all the precautions she could think of in creating the identity. But she had used elder brother's presses and darkrooms and she supposed there were safeguards she hadn't know about. Whatever the case, she was tracked down.

Now, brothers and sisters of Hong and Christ, we come to the First Reading. Today's reading comes from Isaiah. I ask that when you hear this passage, you consider it in the context of the government's Agrarian Struggle and how you might be inspired to take struggle harder in our collective effort to build the Kingdom of Heaven.

It was the fifth day of her escape. She had spent the night at a Ministry of Rites hostel. It was free of bed bugs which was a plus. She had been suspicious of sharing her bed with three others. But the inclement weather had made a virtue of that. The wind howled through the walls all night long. Min in the middle, insulated by companions either side managed a good nights sleep the first since her escape. The breakfast proved a welcome sight. Noodles. A quarter egg. Wild greens. Vegetables. The thin broth the only disappointment.

On this mountain the Lord Almighty will prepare
a feast of rich food for all peoples,
a banquet of aged wine—
the best of meats and the finest of wines.

Chen had just finished and was pleading for more when the door opened and a man walked in. Min knew who he was before she even saw his face. Old Gao was hard to mistake, a six foot tall giant. Rumor had it that he was a Mongol. His face supported that. It was so flat his eyes seemed to erupt from his head and the cheeks were permanently red like he spent a lot of time on the steppe. Old Gao was a good man. But at this moment he was Min's mortal enemy. The Min part of Min's brain froze in fear. But the Chen part – a different person in Min's mind – looked up and dismissed the newcomer with a glance. Chen was interested in having seconds and no freak was going to distract her from her mission to get seconds.

On this mountain he will destroy
the shroud that enfolds all peoples,
the sheet that covers all nations;
he will swallow up death forever.

From the corner of her eyes, Min saw Old Gao look around the room. In an even voice Old Gao announced he was an agent of the House of Merciful Vigilance and could everyone please hand over their identification cards. Chen handed over her identification with a roll of her eyes, she had nothing to hide. Old Gao looked at the card, smiled and tackled Chen. The attack caught Min off-guard and she hit the table hard. Min was slight and with the wind knocked out of her she was soon pinned to the ground.

Old Gao satisfied that his prisoner couldn't escape, grabbed Min by the hair and pulled her close to his face to have a better look. This was a mistake. Min headbutted Old Gao. Her blow caught Old Gao low on the chin. She heard the sound of his jaw snapping shut and a grunt. For a moment Old Gao's grip loosened. Min still on the ground felt something near to her side. With a free hand she reached out and found a bowl. The first blow from the bowl hit Old Gao near the temple. Old Gao toppled over. The second, third and fourth blows were delivered while Old Gao was on the ground. Old Gao, her friend, was the first man Min killed.

The Sovereign Lord will wipe away the tears
from all faces;
he will remove his people’s disgrace
from all the earth.
The Lord has spoken.

Min was not sure how she had escaped the hostel. All she could recall were tears that blurred her vision and the sobs which stole her breath away. She also had no memory of how she had found her bag, hidden the previous night in the forest and changed into the clothes of Mei Cheng. Mei was stylish. Her hair was in the French style, a casual bun tied with ribbon. Her dress a soft cotton which showed her curves. Her mantilla was light, gauzy silk that finished the look. Mei liked male attention. But when she saw herself in a window she regretted the choice of her mantilla which did nothing to hide her broken nose and rapidly blackened eye.

Mei told the group of women on leave from their factory and traveling to their home village that an aggressive suitor had been the one who roughed her up. In hushed tones she confided that he was an officer in the House of Merciful Vigilance and that she was certain he was still looking for her. In even more hushed tones she told the women that she had left her job and hadn't been able to collect her final pay. The woman’s sympathetic looks showed that they understood and whenever they stopped for a meal she never had to pay. The women as much for her safety as theirs avoided asking Mei any further questions. That suited Min just fine.

In that day they will say,
“Surely this is our God;
we trusted in him, and he saved us.
This is the Lord, we trusted in him;
let us rejoice and be glad in his salvation.”

The women kept Mei safe for two days. They covered her face in bandages for her nose and to help hide her face. This suited Min just fine. With the bandages on Min had far less to worry about. The posters with her face on them had multiplied. It seemed like every corner had one now. The newest posters even had a likeness of Chen splashed on them. The sketch was so good at capturing Chen's blandness, it made it all but impossible to pick out any distinguishing features.

What helped Mei more was the willingness of the women to hide her whenever they encountered a roadblock. The women explained that to the guards with patience that Mei was their cousin and she had received a disfiguring injury on the job that had left her mad with grief. The guards hearing the sad tale would give Mei's identification card a cursory look, remark on how beautiful she was in it and shudder at the imagined damage under the bandages. That they never saw any real injuries never bothered the bored soldiers.

All goods things come to an end and the women soon had to depart. As they left they begged Mei to present her case to the Woman's League which they were sure would intercede on her behalf with the House of Merciful Vigilance. Mei was skeptical but agreed that she would consider it. The women offered a few names of cadres who could be relied upon in the town Mei lived in and with a final blessing the other women departed.

The responsorial psalm, please repeat after me:

The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want.
He makes me lie down in green pastures;
He leads me beside still waters;
He restores me soul.
He leads me in right paths
for his name's sake.

Min had left the road and had taken to the hills. The going was tough, her shoes had fallen apart on the third day and she had been forced to sleep in the rain. Her food had run out on the fourth day and she had spent the last three days trying to steal vegetables from peasant gardens. She had matches but no tinder and so she was forced to eat the vegetables raw. Hungry but not in any real danger of starvation Min's continued on despite the hardships. What Min hadn't counted on was the peasant woman who hit her on the back of the head after catching her stealing turnips. It was the sixth night and Min had been captured.

 

[Seon]

Intercepted Intelligence Report: 1892,

Esteemed Gentlemen, Madams, and Chancellor

I have the honor of submitting this year's intelligence report as it pertains to various instances of war ongoing throughout Europe, Americas, and Asia as relevant to the interests and goals of the Federation.

Regarding Franco-Princely War

Last year I submitted a report indicating that the war between France and Austro Bavaria appeared to be imminent, defying civilian analysts who predicted Italian-French invasion on Sardinia-Piedmont. Indeed, background analysis of political ideologies of the governments of Italy and French indicated a falling out between the two ochlocracies, one of which distrusted the other's criminal or otherwise shadowy government, and the other who harbored distaste towards France's socialist, anti capitalist and anti-imperial system. This, combined with various breakdowns in diplomacy between the Princedoms and its neighboring states, including Hungary and Italian border tensions, appear to have been the deciding factor in France's declaration of war.

While AB and France was more or less evenly matched when it came to martial power, it appears as if the unexpected entry of Hungary (more on the issue below) have forced a reassessment of the likely outcome of the war.

1. Compared to the Princedom's capital and core regions of Wien and Austria as demanded by the Hapsburgs of Hungary, region of Elsaß-Lothringen is the periphery of the Princedoms
   1. Thus it is unlikely for the Princedoms to devote as many forces on this front as they will against the Hungarians, pointing towards possibility of French breakthrough against the Princely forces.
2. The issue of French partisans on Elsaß-Lothringen continues. Majority of the French population in the region harbor intense dislike towards the Communard government, and the Princedoms have generally been successful in keeping political consciousness level down in the region. In fit of either overconfidence or foolishness, the French Communard government have made no move towards spreading their ideology into the region, believing, against all reason and logical analysis, that the superiority of their ideology will enable them to win the heart of the people--proven false as in Quebec and lately, Vietnam.
   1. Recommended actions are as follows for the Federation: [Redacted by orders of the Chancellor. Note: Suggested course of action by the Bundesnachrichtendienst was denied due to unacceptable risk to Luxembourg and Deutsche Wallonie]
3. Once breakthrough in the Princely forces is accomplished by French Communards, it is likely for the French to exploit this break in the lines to take strategic and political objectives within Elsaß-Lothringen--urbanized and gentle geography of the region makes for poor defensive fortifications unless the Princely forces are willing to stake cities and other densely populated regions to warfare.

Regarding Hungarian-Princely war

Unexpected entry of Hungary into the war effort have significantly destabilized the region's political calculus and our own foreign policy measures, including [REDACTED]. In certain ways, the NGF foreign policy of attempting to divide Austro-Bavaria and Hungary to prevent the reformation of the Hapsburg Empire capable of existential threat against the Federation is to blame. Nevertheless, the sheer speed and scale of the breakdown of relations was unexpected by many within the intelligence bureau as well as the diplomatic corps, many of which were caught flat footed and now in the process of exfiltrating to Sublime Porte as we speak.

1. The casus belli of Hungary is of significant concern to the Federation, as they have claimed as their birthright not only Wien and other German territories, but also Czechia, home of one of the most economically prosperous city of the Federation.
2. While Wien and its surrounding regions are hilly and well defended, very few of its fortifications are pointed eastwards towards Hungary, not to mention being surprised by Hungarian ultimatum. Even with majority of forces concentrated against the eastern flank, it is unlikely for the Princedoms to retain Wien against Hungarian attack.
3. Significant amount of Hungarian internal dissent over the war is to be expected. [REDACTED]
   1. [REDACTED]
   2. [REDACTED]
4. It is expected for Hungarian forces to make a two pronged assault in Austro Bavaria, with one line attacking Illyria and its rather pitiful amount of continental defenses and another pushing into the political capital of Wien. It is unlikely for the Hungarian forces, who are much more specialized towards defense, to be able to exploit their victory further.

Regarding Columbia
[REDACTED]

Note attached to the section: What our intelligence chief brought up in our last meeting disturb me too, chancellor. I already began to process of scrubbing certain records but obviously this cannot be done over the course of this afternoon.

Regarding Donghak-Japanese War

Our [REDACTED].

Complaints from [REDACTED]. Our strategical analysis on the situation is as follows.

Japan is woefully underprepared for the invasion. While it is unlikely for them to lose this campaign, it is extremely likely for them to suffer significant amount of losses over the course of this war, weakening their position in [REDACTED].

1. Strategic analysis suggest that Japanese will land somewhere in Incheon or other west coast of Korea to launch their invasion. Pusan landing is a possibility but poor development of infrastructure, mountainous terrain, and lack of naval facilities throughout Korea necessitate multiple insertion points for a successful Japanese invasion barring significant Japanese investments to improving naval facilities in the region.
2. Korean East Coast suffers from underdevelopment due to lack of meaningful trade and unusually rough seas around the peninsula as a whole. Armies inserted through this route will likely suffer from extreme amount of supply issue, barring significant Japanese investments into securing convoys and other supply vessels.
3. Japanese invasion force will likely land south of the peninsula and along the west coast and push north from there along the Chinese Yellow Sea for the following two reasons.
   1. Ease of supply route through naval resupply along the coasts. Infrastructure in Korean region is negligible and it is unlikely for the Japanese invading force to be able to supply off the field.
   2. Highly populated regions with certain degree of infrastructure.

 

[Seon]

Glassmaker Gone North

Join the expedition. Wipe away the debt. It sounded so simple for the man. The expedition leader hearing his story shook his head slowly. "You are an idiot, Hans," said the expedition leader. "You are doing this to wipe away a stupid debt?"

"Yeah," the man said. "I ran a lens crafting workshop. Business haven't been good. I can save it if I get the pay for this expedition."

"You are an idiot, Hans," the expedition leader said. "There is no saving anything if you die, have you considered that? I've told people to prepare for harsh conditions and even death and finalize their affairs in the Federation before leaving. I didn't expect people to leave *because* of an ongoing attachment to the Federation." The man shrugged and aimlessly started counting the number of gloves in a wooden box. "If I die, my wife will collect the insurance money and she will continue the workshop."

"Your... wife?" the expedition leader said incredulously. The lensmaker nodded. "Yup. She's the best lensmaker around. Better than me, maybe." The expedition leader laughed, and the lensmaker frowned. "I'm being serious."

"I'm sure you are," the leader said. "But you sure about all of this?" he said, poking the lensmaker in the chest. "About you being here, I mean."

"What do you mean?" the man asked defensively. "I meant that you appear to be here for someone else, rather than yourself. You have the credentials, you passed all the tests and physical exams, and you volunteered for it, but I don't know, it appears as if you aren't here for yourself if what I am hearing is right."

"I am here, trying to get money for a chance to be happy with my wife. Is that not enough?" The leader shrugged. "Whatever, I don't get to pick my own crew. Just do your job."

.............................................................................................................................................................................

Amidst Drumbeats and Shouts

The shooting range was not occupied by its usual occupants today. Here, at the outskirt of Hamburg far away from wars or tensions, the shooting range was frequented primarily by bored men trying to win bets against each other. Today, it was being rented out to the army as a training facility. The engineer had to avoid at least two bodies of soldiers marching to the tune of drums around the range to make her way into the administrative building, carrying the most valuable thing to her life at this moment inside a leatherskin pouch. The magazines racks of the waiting room carried magazines of latest scientific and engineering progress, the covers of which featured diagrams of war machines and artillery projectiles. She sighed as she placed the leatherskin pouch to her side.

War fever had gripped the Federation's much vaunted intellectuals, and each and every one of them were obsessed with creating and developing the latest and newest weapons and machines to 'better prepare' the Federation against unwarranted aggression. She herself was not an exception. Normally, she would never even consider developing military technology--it was not that she was opposed to the military, bur rather that it simply never came up as being part of the consideration.

Now, the military had the budget and the money, and she needed that money. The man, a corporate suit with graying hair, who finally emerged to shake her hand and lead her into the meeting place maintained a friendly smile and confident posture expected of a corporate representative despite the background noise of firearms and explosives being tested in the range. "Ideal meeting place for inventors, we found," the man joked. "Some of the inventors were...overzealouos to show off their inventions in the corporate offices. Less chance of that happening in the firing range. Less."

"I promise you I won't open fire within the office, sir," the engineer said, clutching her leatherskin pouch closely. "Not that kind of invention anyways."

"What is your invention, then?" She wordlessly opened the pouch, pulling out a fragile looking tube of metal and glass. "Is... is that a spyglass?" the corporate suit said incredulously. "We manufacture rifles and other firearms as a specialty, not other assorted military goods. I can write you the list of corporations you can try to sell it to, if you wan-"

"If you will allow me to explain," the engineer cut the man off. "Modern day rifle technology have been improving its accuracy more and more, but the improvements in accuracy is ultimately limited by one simple thing."

"Explain."

"Human eyes can only see so far on what they are trying to hit. By using lenses to magnify the target for the shooter, a skilled shooter will be able to hit targets reliably at much larger range. This scope can be attached to one of your rifles--certain modifications to the rifle is necessary, of course, but the testing I have done showed very little drop in the gun's performance--may need specialty high quality ammo for maximum performance though."

The corporate suit was silent for several long moments afterwards, the engineer nervously shifting her feet as she waited. "Could you give us a few testing runs?" the man said after a while. The engineer smiled. "Of course!"

..........................................................................................................................................................................

westwards towards dubious freedom

The analytical machine at Berlin doubled as an archival tool. You inserted your identification punchcard into the machine, pressed a series of buttons and levers, and the machine automatically sucked out and delivered an archival document to you through a series of pneumatic tubes. Technocrats, bureaucrats, and spooks alike loved the machine--it made archival work much easier.

The censor, for instance, loved that he could work on his job of censoring documents allowed for public view without leaving the comfort of his desk. Through a series of levers and buttons to his side, he could bring forth any document he wished from the archive straight to his desk. He had kind of made a game out of it--sometimes censoring completely inane information while not censoring certain meaningless words in sections alloted for total scrubbing. All the information that he was being told to censor now, however, had drained a certain amount of fun out of the whole ordeal.

The NGF was changing, with much more military-related missives and recruitment orders coming into his desk rather than details of the next arctic expedition or espionage reports in Zanzibar. There were more Prussians and Junkers in the administrative buildings too, bringing with them their own style of militant bravado into the administration and infecting the others with their war fever, calling for some 'glorious crusade' against the communists and the traitor Hungarians alike, some even calling for war against Bavaria itself to finally settle the German question once and for all. He disliked them, as did the majority of the people in the administration.

Yet, the administration continued to hire them, and it appeared as if majority of the new generations of officials and staff hailed from Prussia and the noble background. The censor had the sinking feeling that he may be a dying breed within the Federation as he tendered his resignation--done were the days when the whole administration could become excited by overseas adventures and scientific expeditions. In were the days of faceless bureaucrats infected by war fever. If the war *did* come to the Federation, however, he would be long gone from it.

He resolved to travel west. There was a program hiring administration experts and teachers in Mexico--perhaps he could find a new place to call home there.

............................................................................................................................................................................

Upwards and Free

In the fields of Konigsberg, the inventor stared with distaste towards the column of troops marching within a hundred meters of the engineering fair. The bloody reactionaries had always disliked the science and engineering fairs in Prussia, as evidence of further corruption of German and Prussian way of life by the controlling technocratic government of the Federation. Now, they were using the ongoing war fever and tension as an excuse to make their presence known to the rest of the people here. They marched within ear and eyesight of the fairgoers to make the inventors and hopeful technocrats realize that the time of soldiers and officers have returned.

The inventor shook his head towards many of the booths within the fairground, showcasing newest inventions in weapons (some downright silly) and explosives. Inventors capitalizing on the focus upon weapons by the NGF government in order to buy federal grants. He didn't need to conform to government programs, he had decided. He would simply force them to acknowledge his own superiority and genius.

So he didn't grin in joy or smile when a group of investors and onlookers, in their steam carriages and diesel cars, puttered and crowded around his "booth." He had rented out an extra large slot to showcase his invention. "What is the purpose of this rail?" one of the onlookers cautiously asked, craning his neck around the wide monster of a machine he had made. "That," the inventor joked. "Is a new artillery system."

"And that?" another onlooker asked warily, pointing towards the large winged and wooden structure on top of the rail. "That is the new guided shell."

A series of oohs and aahs followed. "Why is it pointed towards that column of soldiers marching around there?"

The inventor wordlessly entered the winged machine and started the engines, the propeller came to life, and he felt a rush of air as the catapult rails launched him forward. Gasps and screams followed as the machine, for one terrifying moment, dipped low, before rising up and away. The soldiers stopped marching, the officers and drummers silenced and staring with their mouth ajar at the machine launched from the fairgrounds, before breaking out into swears and screams and throwing themselves flat to the ground as the machine buzzed overhead.

The machine landed roughly in a field of grass, the superstructure groaning and threatening to break with each bump on the ground as the machine came to a stop. Automobiles and steam carriages full of onlookers, investors, and even some other inventors drove towards him unmindful of the rough terrain and scattering the shaken and disrupted soldiers even further. "The design of the launch system-" "A novel form of glider?" "What kind of engin-" the questions poured in and the inventor silenced them with a raised hand. "I appreciate your attention to my project," he said. "But I believe the gendarmes will be wanting to question me first for that stunt. I'll be willing to answer any questions on the way to the police station with them."

Most of the onlookers, staring nervously at the angry and reforming column of troops, decided to leave. Some stayed. The inventor answered their questions in generalities and technical descriptions for about an hour, before the gendarmes flanked by Prussian officers arrived to apprehend him.

...........................................................................................................................................................................

Goodbyes

Daring Inventor Arrested for Reckless Endangerment was the headline for the day that the arctic exploration ship, the Dreadful Whale was due for launch. The sponsors for the expedition were disappointed that the media was so focused elsewhere, of course, but the expedition was funded by the federal government and they had made their profit off that already. The lensmaker had spent the last few days in pleasant chats with some administration officials and educators due west towards Mexico, and the expedition leader was cataloging the last of the supplies being brought into the ship.

"You sure you want to leave, Hans?" the expedition leader had asked him again. "We can always replace you--you can easily earn money in this economy without risking life and limb in the arctics."

"This is the sure bet," he had replied. "Whatever," the leader had said exasperated. "Where's your wife though? I hoped to be able to see her before we left. See why she's worth dying for and all that."

"She-"

"Hans!" a woman ran towards the ship, jumping over a security barricade and clutching at a leatherskin pouch. "Hans! Don't go! You don't have to!"

"Erika?" the lensmaker said in disbelief. The expedition leader raised an eyebrow. Burly men in security uniforms moved to chase her down, before the expedition leader waved them off. "I got it, I got it," the engineer said breathlessly. "You don't have to leave anymore."

"What do you mean?" the lensmaker said, shaking slightly. "The contract! A government grant AND a corporate partnership!" We have enough money to pay off our debt and expand our business! The government is buying!" She rummaged through her leatherskin pouch with shaking fingers and pulled out a tightly rolled document. "Look!"

Lensmaker didn't look at the document, staring silent and motionless in disbelief. The expedition leader gingerly took the document instead. "Oh boy, that's a lot of zeros," the leader said, whistling. "Good news for you, Hans, you can be happy with your wife in Germany." "It's amazing!" the engineer continued. "We can have everything we wanted for the workshop, and more!"

"Erika..." the lensmaker said, standing motionless.

"We can go home, and be happy again free of debt..." the engineer said dreamily.

"Please... please don't take away my reason for going north away from me."

A deafening silence. The expedition leader stared incredulously at Hans making a little 'o' with his mouth. "Wh...what?" the engineer said. "I said you don't have to go. What are you talking about?"

"I'm sorry, Erika. I'm still going."

"Why? I don't understand. I can't understand," she said, tears welling up in her eyes. "I thought that's what we were struggling so hard for, for a chance to be happy again."

"I just... I just wanted to be something more than a lensmaker in Germany," Hans said. "You... you pig! You coward! You selfish, goddamned..." the engineer screamed. "There's more to life in Germany than just these accursed glass and lenses! What about me? What about-" the security guards put their arms around her shoulders. "Let go! What are you doing?"

"I'm so sorry, Fraulein," the expedition leader said. "I'm afraid it's about time we launched the ship."

"Don't you dare leave! Hans! This isn't over! LET GO!"

"Come on, Hans," the expedition leader said, smiling, patting the rookie expedition member on the back. "Let's get off this land before you change your mind."

"Thank you, sir."

"You really are an idiot though," the leader said, chuckling as he walked up the ramp. "Welcome to the crew."

 

[Nuka-sama]

Empress, proclaimed by God, to rule this land
Worker, proclaimed by God, to labor
Noble, proclaimed by God, to be fanned
Soldier, proclaimed by God, to wield a saber

Each has their proper role
A divine order, not to be disturbed
Yet one seems to have an empty soul
From this sacred bargain he is perturbed

These malcontents are none other than the lords
Those well-dressed fools who would take our labor
And when we speak out, they reach for swords
Oh Empress, we workers cry for our Savior!

Their vows to the people forgotten
The nation would truly be merry
If the Empress destroyed what was rotten
And provided Her empire sanctuary

Empress please, to you I beseech
The worker is your most loyal servant
Please, Empress, remove this leech
And for You, our love will grow more fervent

-James Evans
​

It was not uncommon for poets to comment on the politics of the era, and even Portugal-Brazil was no exception. What emerged in Brazil during the 1890's though was a bit of an oddity. The continued existence of slavery and the unchecked power of the nobles were seen to malign the Empress' power. Poets attempted to appeal to her instincts of absolutism and Christianity to challenge the status quo, and such a personal appeal became common, though it was Evans who was thought to be the first. Their poems combined an ideology of unionism, monarchism, and absolutism, while also having a basis in Christian thought.

OOC:

Poem was written by me, any feedback is much appreciated

 

[Seon]

Newspaper and Magazine Articles dated 1892

From the Journal of Science and Engineering

Use of skirmishers have generally been discounted in modern day battlefields and training due to improvements in manufacturing processes and rifling procedures leading to greatly improved accuracy of mass-produced firearms and rifles for the ordinary soldier. While the use of partisans and other forms of ambush troops are, if not accepted, a known reality of warfare, their employment as an effective and separate army unit have increasingly been dismissed. This is largely due to limitations of the human body--a soldiers' eyes can only see so far. Even if the rifle grows accurate enough to hit the target at extreme range, a soldier may simply be incapable of detecting a target moving at such ranges, let alone aim their sights at the target.

The H4 Scope, mounted atop the Mauser 78, allow for magnification of the target as the operator aims down the sights of his rifle, vastly improving the effective range of the rifle previously thought to be limited by shortcomings of the human body.

While the designs of the spyglass scope is not a novel design, integration of it into the Mauser 78 and series of reticles etched into the lenses to assist with range finding for the operators was of sufficient design and engineering challenge for the federal bureau to grant a patent to Fraulein E. Hoffman, who will oversee the production of the weapon system in partnership with the Mauser corporation.

While the weapon system have been hailed by many as an engineering and technological triumph, others have pointed towards ethical issues regarding its usage on the battlefield. "This weapon allows a man to hunt another like game, without giving the victims any chance to fight back or even know they are being sighted. I shudder to think what kind of sick mind would be required to use this weapon, let alone design it," said a veteran who declined to be identified. Others have quickly fired back that such a weapon is not so different from artillery systems in use today with very few questions regarding the morality of its usage.

Fraulein E. Hoffman have refused to comment regarding the ethical challenge levied against her invention.

..........................................................................................................................................................................
From World Geographic:

Dreadful Whale Safely Launches from Spitsbergen

Telegraph messages from Spitsbergen have confirmed the safe launch of the arctic exploration vessel, Dreadful Whale, lead by Captain E. Weber. The crew of the arctic exploration vessel spent early winter this year and spring training in harsh weather of northern Norway and its mountains before launching northward early summer.

E. Weber is a survivor of the failed northern expedition of 1890, and have maintained his ambitions of reaching the Poles and a cheerful disposition despite the tragic failures of the past expedition. Surrounded by energized and smiling crew of his arctic expedition, Captain Weber had the following words of inspiration for the people of the Federation: "You can always be more than what you are. Whether you are boy or a girl, we are entering into a world where more opportunities await than ever before. Pursue your dreams and don't give up, no matter what anyone tells you, because if you don't fight for yourself, who else will?"

..........................................................................................................................................................................
From Journal of Technologies and Oddities

First Powered Flight or a Hoax?

The purported first powered flight in history in the fields of Konigsberg have raised significant amount of controversy. While the inventor and his supporters claim that this was genuinely the first instance of manned flight, others contend that it was a simple glider, moving on motive force received from the catapult launch system. Due to damage sustained from the flight itself and the current incarceration of the designer by Prussian authorities, it does not appear as if further testing of the device will be possible despite significant amount of interest from several industrial and technological firms such as Junkers and several leading figures in the Council of Savants.

What have gotten even more attention than the invention itself, however, was the stunning act of defiance of the inventor in the machine's maiden flight, where the device flew or glid dangerously close to a column of marching soldiers near the fairground and leading towards a stampede of excited fairgoers and investors that scattered and disrupted the military march even further. While the incident caused no injuries, the prosecution have alleged that it could have easily resulted in fatalities.

The inventor, for his part, have actively encouraged such behavior in his few statements to the media, calling on fellow engineers and aviators to defy the growing militarization and authoritarianism in German society and reject the war fever gripping the nation.

 

[Crezth]

The Zeddmore-Spengler Thesis

The loud hoot of the train whistle predicated its departure from the station, the grinding wheels on the iron track leaving the distinctive, coppery smell of hot metal. A man in a red coat, of short but lean stature, stepped away from the platform and checked his pocketwatch, scanning the dense crowd of travelers as they proceeded, hunch-shouldered, away from the platform. From the streets beyond there was a sound of merrymaking and music, and several costumed individuals wearing the heads of bulls and antelope and long flowing colorful robes pranced towards the exit gates.

"Dr. Spengler? Dr. Edward Spengler?"

The red-coated man focused on the gentlewoman accosting him, dressed rather peculiarly in corduroy trousers and a jacket, like she were an attendant or butler. She was taller than him - which annoyed him, but he was used to suppressing that feeling - and was looking at him curiously.

"Edward Spengler, yes," he said. "I presume you're Dr. Sophia Gerykova?"

"That's right," she said, shaking his hand as if she were a man. "Dr. Zeddmore sent me to pick you up. We have an automatic carriage waiting outside, I can take you directly to the bureau to meet him."

Edward felt a sense of relief come over him. It had been a long week and the train rides had been distinctly uncomfortable: he quite wanted to get this meeting underway as soon as possible.

"Thank you," he said, at a loss for anything else. "I've been on the rails for several days now. The last ride from Vereeniging was very crowded."

"Yes, commuters," said Dr. Gerykova as she led him through the exit gates. "Most of them come in from Ennerdale to work the shops and game halls."

"As far off as Vereeniging? That trip took three hours."

"Not as far as Durban, though, eh?" she said with a somewhat flippant tone. They walked out onto the street, which was not paved and instead was a great dusty trail. The path was dense with passersby and the occasional horse-drawn carriage. "The wages in the game halls are quite good. Many of them are saving to make the move to Johannesburg directly, I imagine."

"Hm," said Edward, as he looked towards the sound of music. Many great and colorful banners were waving around from tall poles and many-storied buildings, and the sound of storecriers was extremely apparent. "Come one, come all!" someone shrieked, and Dr. Gerykova led him away towards a small automatic carriage that was parked outside the station.

"Mind the step," she pointed out to him as she opened the door on one side. The carriage was clean, and black, with fine leather seats and a pristine finish. He had never seen such a fine automatic carriage before, especially as they usually were handcrafted for private use and lacked utility in general applications. He had seen one in Durban before at an inventors' fair, but it was a clanking and colliginous pile of junk. It was easier to go by horse carriage, or walk and allow the trains to make up the difference.

Edward entered the vehicle as Dr. Gerykova mounted the driver's seat, initiating the engine with the pull of a few levers, filling the air with the smell of burning diesel.

With a lurch, they were off, wheeling down the dusty road, turning a corner and proceeding down a paved boulevard with fancy-roofed manors on either side.

Edward had never ridden in an automobile before, and his hands went for the side of his seat and the door window as he tried to brace himself against the unusual and bumpy ride. For her part, Dr. Gerykova seemed perfectly unfazed by this activity, and drove the vehicle in an almost-lazy way, her hands and feet operating the control mechanisms with supreme ease.

She noticed his discomfort and made an apologetic look. "I know it's not the most comfortable journey, but it is faster than walking. We'll be at the bureau in only a matter of minutes. Dr. Zeddmore is quite eager to meet you."

"...Good," Edward managed as he tried to quell the queasiness in his stomach. "I-I'll trust you not to get us killed."

She laughed, which surprised him, but said nothing else. They continued down the roads of Johannesburg, which twisted and turned the further north they went, before finally arriving at a large, clean paza. Great columns supported the marble awning of a magnificent building with a copper dome, golden lettering on the front bearing the words BURO VIR BEREKENING.

"The Bureau of Computation," she said. "Here we are."

The ride was significantly smoother on the plaza and she pulled up to an area shaded by thick wide-canopied trees, with flower gardens along the side, parking just beside the flower bed. The vehicle shut "off" with a sputter and a click.

Although there were innumerable difference engines throughout the entire world, rarer, more valuable, and far more complicated still were the powerful analytical engines upon which the task of government-tabling was most heavily placed. Difference engines, small and large, could handle rather straightforward tasks of mathematical calculation; but the operation of analytical engines was in itself a matter of great complexity. In other parts of the world, analytical operators were sometimes known simply as savants, but in Boerika they had another name: programmers.

Dr. Gerykova opened his door, and Edward was brought back to his senses. He climbed out of the vehicle and steadied himself upon the still ground.

"Are you okay?" She seemed somewhat amused by his bewildered attitude. It was too obvious that he had not been to the base of an analytical engine before.

"Yes, I'll be fine," he said, trying to muster his pride. "I'm just - taking in the scenery."

"Good, I'd hate to be held responsible for losing you before you had a chance to meet the Professor." She led him through the gardens and up the marble stairs that climbed towards the dome, and politely opened the door for him. Together they entered a vast antechamber with several suited men filing past into dozens, if not hundreds, of offices that lined the long hallways.

Clearly not willing to dally, Dr. Gerykova led him through the hubbub down a narrow corridor that ended in a small, gated room with a lever on the side held by a man in a pinstripe jacket and small hat.

"Take us to the engine room, please," she told the man as they entered the room.

"Going down," he said, and pulled the lever. A bell clanged, and an electric light at the helm of the lift bore the symbol of the floor they were on: clearly the top one, with over a dozen subterranean levels thus enumerated.

The doors clanked shut and, with a gentle lurch, the room began descending. Again, the experience of riding in an elevator was new for Edward, and he steadied himself against the wall of the lift.

The lights flickered and a bell clanged for every floor they past - after a minute of this they arrived at the bottom floor, and Edward felt the air change, feeling much, much cooler than the air above. Although he cursed the heat earlier, now he felt somewhat grateful for his jacket.

"Engine room," said the attendant, and Dr. Gerykova thanked him and gave him a small coin.

The lift doors opened up, revealing a long hallway with electric lights every few yards, that branched out at the far end where a mighty set of double doors was visible. Edward straightened himself up, not willing to be caught discombobulated by her again.

She turned to him. "Dr. Zeddmore's office is down this hall, so we'll call in on him - then, I suppose, we can tour the engine room."

Edward nodded as they proceeded down the hallway, and privately he wondered what the cost of maintaining such a facility as this was.

She led him around a corner of the hall which shortly ended in an office with a frosted glass window, embroidered in golden lettering with the words:

DR. P. M. ZEDDMORE
STATE MECHANIST, FIRST CLASS
EXECUTIVE CHIEF OF OPERATIONS

Dr. Gerykova knocked on the door with the back of her knuckles. There was a light visible from within, although no answer or noise came by way of return. Frowning, she knocked again. "Dr. Zeddmore?" she called, but there was still no answer.

She gave a puzzled look. "How odd. He said he'd be waiting here."

Edward looked around the halls, which were empty although a few office doors along its length were lit from within. With a shrug, he said, "Perhaps he's in the engine room?"

Dr. Gerykova nodded, as if she were admitting a triviality. "Yes, that must be it. One of the contractors must have called on him."

She walked past Edward back in the way they had come, and he followed, having to move quickly to keep up with her longer strides. In short order they turned down the hall and engaged the large, oaken double doors, which she pushed open with a slight grunt of effort.

They entered what seemed to Edward like a warehouse, a very high-ceilinged room that was filled with the sounds of clicking and clacking. In the center of the room, and occupying the majority of its space, a tall mechanical structure tabulated on an endless cascade of pistons and abaci which click-click-clicked away. Ladders and portholes adorned the structure like some kind of circus device, and near the base of it a population of mechanists with magnifying glasses and spectacles inspected paper readouts that emerged from the machine at regular intervals. The room was bathed in white light from several shaded high-voltage bulbs embedded in the walls and on the machine itself.

Edward was so impressed by the spectacle of the device that he hardly noticed the din of the machine was overshadowed by a heated argument in close proximity.

Dr. Gerykova was looking in another direction, which drew Edward's attention: a tall, dark-skinned man with a well-coifed goatee, glasses, and a clean black suit was staring bemusedly at a bearded white gentleman with a cane, who was waving it around in the air as he yelled hoarsely.

"I tell you, the results you have given me are all wrong!" said the white man. "There is absolutely no way you ran the calculation correctly. My colleague ran the projection on his difference engine and told me there was a regression in this data. I would think you government calculator-heads would be able to follow through on such a promising lead! Your machine is clearly dysfunctional."

"I don't know what you want me to tell you," said the black man, clenching his teeth. "I guaranteed the completeness of the results myself. There simply is no statistical regression between leopard attacks and the movement of the stars."

Red-faced, the white man stomped his feet. "Your machine must be mistaken! I have pored over the data myself. You must not be familiar with astronomical physics - listen here! Analytical engines like this have errors all the time! How can you be so sure you were correct? You should run the trials again!"

The black man looked astonished at this suggestion. He folded his arms. "I assure you that this machine is computationally complete. We clean the pistons daily and I can prove that the calculations are correct. If you would look at the report I gave you, you would understand that. If you have a problem with the results then you should change your assumptions and initializations. No amount of re-computing your time-consuming programs will change the outcome."

"Then what about the differential results?"

"Those are projections. Sometimes projections are based on a false assumption, and you should know better than to think otherwise."

The white man wagged a finger in his counterpart's face. "I'm going to write the Pretorian bureau and see if they are more amenable than you. You have been a great disappointment! The stars have either addled your mind or your machine. Good day to you!"

With that the white man stormed off, brusquely striding past Edward and pushing him aside as he exited the room through the double doors.

The black man watched him go, a look of severe disgust on his face, as his eyes wandered to notice Dr. Gerykova and Edward standing there. His expression relaxed and, as he inspected Edward, a look of dawning comprehension seemed to appear.

Adopting a polite smile, he strode to meet them, extending an arm to Edward as he acknowledged Dr. Gerykova with a nod. "You must be Dr. Spengler? I am Peter Matthew Zeddmore."

In spite of himself, Edward blinked, surprised and at this point significantly overwhelmed. He took the tall man's hand, somewhat limply. "Dr... Zeddmore?"

"None other," said the man, and he shook his arm firmly. "What's the matter, Dr. Spengler? You seem out of sorts."

"He's been like that since I picked him up," said Dr. Gerykova.

"No, no," said Edward hurriedly, trying to save face. "I only - I wasn't expecting you to be, err, I didn't know you were a black Boer?"

Dr. Zeddmore gave a nod of the head, one that seemed to suggest he was used to this kind of reaction, and in the pit of his stomach Edward felt a kind of regret at his uncharitable attitude.

"I prefer to think of myself as a scientist and an engineer first," said Dr. Zeddmore, straightening out his jacket. "And Boer second, if at all."

"I beg your pardon," said Edward. "I've seen a great deal many peculiar things today, after all." Privately, he kicked himself for phrasing it like that, but on the other hand he could find no other way to reconcile his feelings at present.

Dr. Zeddmore gave a sympathetic look. "I understand. You've been traveling for quite some time, and Johannesburg can seem quite peculiar to outsiders."

"That, and... well," Edward gestured towards the machine.

Dr. Zeddmore smiled proudly. "The Kolibrie Mark 5. [Hummingbird] Quite an impressive device, isn't it? It's an analytical engine of my own design. I've proctored operations here for about five years now, since the Boer State licensed us as a government bureau. I beat a competitor based in Kaapstadt for the privilege, after the director at the Pretorian office miraculously realized the other guy had no idea what he was doing. I swear, these days any joker thinks they can assemble an analytical engine based on Babbage's outdated theory. There's just no respect for completeness - difference engines have made people lazy, and all people want is results."

These words cleared Edward's mind of his uncertainties a little bit, as he couldn't help his focus shifting suddenly to his work. "Ah, yes - I believe, in our correspondence, you said you could help me with my model?"

"Yes, or at least I think I may be able to help you - we can help each other." Dr. Zeddmore stroked his goatee as he stared down at Edward. "I've been trying to prove the Kolibrie can encompass any other analytical engine for some time now, but there's something missing from my notion of calculability. Still, my intuition tells me the Kolibrie is equal to the task. What did you say your model is called?"

Dr. Gerykova and Dr. Zeddmore stared at him expectantly. Edward took a deep breath and drew himself up, feeling in this moment not so much shorter than Dr. Zeddmore as he actually was. "I call it the lambda calculus."

 

[Ahigin]

FAQ - Part 7:
Why do I have more resources than the update mentions? Is it an error? Most likely, not. You simply received some bonus resources for writing up a story or an interesting post in the thread, thus helping to expand the December World. It won't break the game, don't worry. Enjoy!