110 Entropy
Time passed like an eternity inside one of the many rooms of the Grand Kremlin Palace where Alexander was having a meeting with the Ambassadors of the Deutschland and Austrean Empire. And he was glad that it ended because the discussion turned roundabout to the point he decided to leave them with a promise they’ll find out who caused the attack.
Though it wasn’t their job in the first place, but since his technology is involved, the Ruthenia Empire will be obligated to take part in whatever investigation. After all, the head of state of the Empire is also the chief executive officer of the Imperial Dynamic Systems.
Alexander returned back to his room and he was glad that it was empty. He grunted as he sat in his office chair and dialed the telephone to call Kaiser Wilheim, who according to Sergei, has been demanding to speak to Alexander since then.
The call from Alexander goes to the telephone operator, who then connects the jacks for Berlin, the signal reaches the Deutschland telephone exchange and the respective operator connects the call to the Deutschland Royal Palace which rings the phone in the Kaiser’s office.
An assistant of Kaiser Wilhelm picks up the call and listens.
“Uncle…It’s Alexander…can I speak to you personally?”
The assistant does a quick glance at the empty space where the television once stood, the device has been dismantled and taken away by the Deutschland Army Technicians.
The security has increased and emergency martial law has been declared.
“Your majesty, it’s him,” the assistant presents the phone piece to the Kaiser.
Kaiser Wilhelm is furious in the aftermath of the bombings, he looks more ferocious than ever.
He grabs the phone piece from his assistant, his knuckles turning white from gripping it in anger.
Kaiser Wilhelm spoke into it, his voice deep with controlled rage.
“Alexander, you have a lot of explaining to do. Are you aware of how many lives of my people your televisions killed?”
“I understand your pain, Uncle…”
“DON’T YOU DARE CALL ME UNCLE!” Kaiser Wilheim’s voice cracked like a whip, his left deformed smaller fist pounded the hardwood of the table.
“I’m the Emperor of the Deutschland Empire and you will address me formally. Do you understand?”
Alexander sighed deeply and replied, “Yes, I understand, Your Majesty, I apologize for my transgression, please forgive me.”
Alexander clicked his tongue inwardly, trying to contain the frustration building up inside him. Yes, it was given that his television was the source of calamity the Deutschland and the Austrean Empire are having right now but why does it feel like it’s all his fault? That he is the one who caused this?
Since he received the news of a terror attack, though that angle is still under investigation, he was infuriated. Why does it have to happen in one of his important moments in life? He should not be here answering calls from an angry statesman, he should be with his wife and family cherishing each moment of this day.
But no. He was forced to stay in his office fixing up this mess. So here he is now, in front of his phone, trying to hold his temper in, knowing that he needs to speak calmly and reasonably with him to avoid further argument.
“We had a precarious discussion with your Ambassador, Your Majesty. However, it was inconclusive as both sides were playing the blaming game. So, I figured that if I reach out to you personally, we can clear this one up, but allow me to reiterate that we are denying our involvement in the attack.”
“You sure? Then why are the only ones outside Ruthenia exploded?”
“That is something I would like to discuss with you and King Licht because I don’t know either. I’m hoping that we can reach a solution to this tragedy. I’m sorry, Your Majesty, but by what the people would say, Ruthenia will not benefit from this attack.”
Kaiser Wilheim was silent for a moment and then spoke. “Because of this incident, there are riots breaking out in the city, jeopardizing public order. We’re having enough problems dealing with the civil unrest. My ministers are thinking that the Ruthenia Empire is involved in the attack by using television as an experimental secret weapon.”
“I’d say that this plan, if I had any part of it, sounds extremely foolish.”
Alexander explains “Your Majesty. Let’s think about this logically, why would the Ruthenia Empire attack the Deutschland Empire? What benefit would we get from it? We’re not barbarians and if we are going to attack, we rather have a proper declaration of war to get civilians out of harm’s way. In fact, we are the ones who are in a pinch here because we are losing our biggest trading partner to such attacks. Your intelligence certainly informed you that we aren’t ready for an all-out confrontation, your majesty. Not to mention your alliance with Austrean Empire .”
“. . .I’d say you have a point.”
Alexander closed his eyes as he breathed “Finally, we’ve come to an understanding. Let’s keep it that way. We will help in any way we can and as for those who have lost their lives, please assure them that the Imperial Dynamic Systems will have their guaranteed support.”
“I agree, let’s discuss this matter further.”, Kaiser Wilhelm leans back in his chair. His tone is less angry now.
“Great…” Alexander propped up his chin onto his hands while staring ahead at nothing in particular, lost in thought until he heard a voice.
“So if it is not your doing, then whose?” Wilheim asked.
“We’re assuming it was the Black Hand,” Alexander answered.
“Black Hand?” Wilheim repeated. “Are you saying that international syndicate?”
“Yes, that’s the only theory we can come up with. We can add extremists or separatists but I don’t think they’d have the resources to pull off such a simultaneous and calculated attack. We all know that Black Hand is an infamous international syndicate with access to unlimited resources. I believe they did this to implicate Ruthenia and probably as revenge for removing them from our lands. They intended to make me pay by forcing us into a war, which I believe could be the goal of this attack.”
As Alexander was having a conversation with Kaiser Wilheim, someone suddenly entered the door. It was Sergei.
“Your Majesty, there’s something I need to tell you…” Sergei said urgently.
“Hold on just a moment,” Alexander said before looking at Sergei and inquiring. “What is it?”
“We received a call from our embassy in the Deutschland and Austrean Empire. They are being rioted,” Sergei revealed.
“What?” Alexander gasped lightly as he set the telephone down on the table.
“Not only that, Your Majesty, we are receiving reports that the police are rounding up Ruthenian neighborhoods and ordering residents to obey it or face arrest. Your Majesty, they are citizens who have not been charged with any crimes who we believe are simply targeted because of their country of origin….” Sergei trailed off, unsure of how to continue. ρꪖꪕᦔꪖꪕꪫꪣꫀꪶ
“Sergei…is there something else?” Alexander prodded when he noticed the hesitation that he was experiencing from Sergei. “I must know.”
“Well, Your Majesty, we have also received a report from the Embassy stating that Ruthenian citizens or tourists are being harassed and killed. One of which is the people selling television.” Sergei explained.
Alexander leaned back in his seat with a grim expression on his face. He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “This is bad…” he grabbed the phone to speak to Wilheim.
“Your Majesty, are you aware that the police in your country are rounding up Ruthenian citizens?”
“I’m aware of that, Alexander.”
“Then why are you letting it happen?”
“Because they are acting on my orders.”
“What?!” Alexander nearly screamed on the phone as anger started rising inside of him.
“Don’t” What?!” me!” Wilhelm retorted back. “It’s a precautionary measure, Alexander! I hope you understand the difficult situation right now. People are angry and afraid here and I’m just doing what is believed to be the best move to protect my country,”
‘What the heck?’, Alexander exclaimed inwardly, as not to further aggravate his uncle.
“From what? From Ruthenians? Your Majesty, just because the cause of deaths is due to exploding televisions, doesn’t mean the Ruthenians are part of it. There is even a report where Ruthenians are getting killed.”
“I don’t know where you get that information from.”
“From my embassy that is currently being rioted right now.”
“That’s unconfirmed.”
“Well, it better be, because once it’s confirmed, this will change the narrative, and the grand schemes of the Black Hand who probably concocted this plan might soon become a reality.”
***
Berlin, the Ruthenian ghettos.
“By orders of the Kaiser! We are placing you under arrest for suspected involvement with the bombings! Open your doors and do not resist!”
The Deutschland police kick opens the doors of an immigrant Ruthenian family who escaped from Ruthenia to avoid persecution from the Imperial Family.
Now they face Deutschlander’s persecution as they are marched out into army trucks, the military providing assistance in vehicles and manpower to make mass arrests and keep order on the streets.
Suddenly, a pair of Ruthenians dart out from a house running away from the police raid.
“Stop them!” one of the police gave chase followed by some soldiers.
“Come one! Let’s get away from them!” one of the Ruthenians pulled the other.
“Please! Just listen to me for once, Peter!” the other one yelled back femininely, her patchwork skirt flapping.
“They will kill us like what the Romanoffs did to papa and mama back home, Vera! Just run!” The man named Peter dragged his sister and they reached a turn in the alley they ran into.
Suddenly a policeman lunges out from the alley and tackles both of them, the sister is completely caught, and the brother wriggled out and was ready to hit the policeman until a shot rang out.
Both flinched instinctively as the squad behind the duo caught up and fired a warning shot.
“Don’t move or the next shot will hit you!”, the policeman backed by a pair of soldiers approached.
Peter chose to run and traverse the twists and turns of the alley and made out of the ghettos into a street—
—Right into the sights of an angry mob beating to death the other Ruthenians.
“There’s another one! Get him!”
The mob rushed at him throwing stones and waving bloodied laborer tools.
He tried to run but was hit by a lucky stone that knocked him to the ground, the first person to arrive there was luckily unarmed; they started kicking Peter who has now curled into a defensive fetal position as more people began raining blows.
With one eye, he saw someone lift up an ax ready to chop him like wood.
“No!” he yelled, not ready to meet his end.
The man with the ax is suddenly hit in the face by the buttstock of a rifle belonging to a soldier as the policeman with them fired another warning shot to disperse the crowd and the soldiers prodded those who are too slow or stupid with the bayonet attachments.
The mob retreated to a safe distance and began calling the police and soldiers names as one of the policemen picked up a dazed and beaten Ruthenian back into the ghettos where he was thrown into a truck. His sister was shocked at his condition and hugged him and cried.
“Stupid fool…”, one of the policemen commented. “Almost got himself killed out there.”