Seeking solidarity, we do not fear isolation.
連帯を求めて孤立を恐れず
We do not care if we fall because our strength failed us,
力及ばずして倒れることを辞さないが
But we refuse to be broken because we did not give our all.
力を尽くさずして挫けることを拒否する
— Inscription found on the Yasuda Auditorium during the University of Tokyo protests.
**************************
"Next!"
The Federation Border Control Office.
Its formal designation was the excessively long 'Border Guard Immigration Control Bureau of the People's Commissariat of Internal Affairs of the Federation,' but there was no immediate need to commit such bureaucratic clutter to memory.
"Kal'tsit, is that correct?"
"Correct."
The immigration officer examined the documents I presented, then began slowly tapping at a keyboard beside him.
It was only then that I noticed the massive computer situated in the far corner of the back room.
"Excuse me, but what is that device?" I asked cautiously.
It had been fifty years since I last stepped foot into the Federation; I was no longer familiar with their ways.
The officer twirled his mustache before answering.
"Ah, this? This is OGAS."
"OGAS?"
"The All-State Automated System for Management and Information Processing (Общегосударственная автоматизированная система учёта и обработки информации, ОГАС). They say a scientist named Viktor Glushkov—from Ursus, I believe—invented it."
I nodded slowly.
Electronic administrative data processing... This was a concept I might mention to Theresia once I returned to Kazdel.
Of course, given Kazdel's current state, it was an impossible dream for now. But if the situation stabilized and thirty years were dedicated to development, perhaps it could be achieved.
The officer slid the documents back toward me.
"A medal recipient. Ah, a Revolutionary Contributor! Good heavens, your face is so young I never would have guessed. Welcome. Welcome back to the Federation."
The screening ended with a hollow, anticlimactic simplicity.
I hadn't expected this.
Immigration procedures in the Federation had become a labyrinth since the Red Square Terror of 1074; even the Infected, who were theoretically subject to special measures under federal law, could no longer enter easily.
Yet I was waved through just because I wore a single medal?
'...Something is suspicious.'
Could Vladimir—no, Bak Si-hoon—be weaving some new scheme? That 'Overseer' whom I thought had finally relinquished his grip on power?
Come to think of it, nearly fifty years had passed since I last saw him. He had spent his time wandering the corners of Terra.
Yes, the retirement ceremony had been the final time.
"I must not lower my guard," I murmured, steeling my resolve as I headed toward the train station.
I purchased a ticket and took my seat. The locomotive surged forward, exhaling thick plumes of steam and coal smoke into the freezing air.
My destination was Beryozovka, Ursus.
Endless golden plains, rural cottages, small hamlets, and lonely stations blurred past the window.
I closed my eyes for a moment.
*******************************
I remembered.
"W-Wait, what are you drinking?! Stop that at once!"
"Belch. The taste is remarkably stable."
"Overseer, put that down this instant!"
It was a time before I had even acquired the capacity for proper communication.
Back when I was still known only by a codename.
It must have been shortly after I was first constructed as AMa-10.
In those days, the Priestess, the Prophet, and that man—the Overseer—were together.
"Ugh... my stomach feels strange...."
"I told you! Why did you drink my research samples?!"
"There was a drug that claimed to allow the biological system to fully absorb Originium; how could I resist? Besides, like you said, it's Originium in its current state, without any risk of mutation. Clinical trials be damned, if a man can't handle this, he's not—uuurp..."
"O-Oracle! Take the Overseer and get out of my lab! He's going to vomit all over my research!"
Yes, they were laughing harmoniously then.
The problem came later.
Perhaps a month had passed.
"Prophet, wake up. That 'Entity' has already reached the faded galaxy QHU9112. We must enter cryosleep now."
"But AMa-10 isn't finished. And you—I heard rumors that you've been diverting materials to build a private hibernation facility. Is it true?"
"That doesn't matter. Scrap that monstrosity. We have to go inside now."
"Monstrosity? Are you finished?"
The Prophet and the Overseer argued right in front of me.
The Overseer pointed a finger at me and shouted at the Prophet.
"Yes, a monstrosity! What is the purpose of such a thing? What happens after terraforming is no concern of ours. I think the odds are slim, but even if humanity is born anew on this soil of Terra, they should be allowed to choose their own destiny. A 'Guide of Civilization'? How very noble of you."
"Overseer, have you quite finished? Honestly, is it appropriate for a man who was exiled from the home world for his 'human rights activism' to be saying this?"
"Does this look like a human to you? When I talk about people, I mean mankind—like us! Not some mimic species created by Originium! And certainly not a pathetic artificial intelligence like this thing!"
"If that's all you have to say, get out of my laboratory!"
In the end, it was the Overseer who was driven out after the dispute.
"Pfft... Hahahaha! You're pathetic. You cast me out yet you trust that bitch Priestess to the end. Fine. I'm going. Don't look for me for a while."
He laughed uproariously as he left the Prophet's side.
Just before the laboratory door closed, he spoke one last time.
"One final piece of advice. Why not name that tin can after a mineral? If you're going to burden it with the role of a 'Guide of Civilization' you trust so much, a proper name would be better than AMa-10, which sounds like an error report. Also, I have a thing for beautiful women with light green hair and cat ears."
"Never come back."
"Just a suggestion. Farewell, then."
After that, the Prophet grew sullen, having lost a friend. The Priestess simply wore a suspicious, glittering smile, but nothing truly changed.
.
.
.
...Ah, was there something different at the very end?
"That is just a code, the serial number for a machine. I should give you a real name. Hmm... yes. Just as my friend suggested... Iceland Spar... Calcite... It refracts light into two different polarizations within its crystals, a beautiful phenomenon... just like you. Calcite... Kal'tsit... Let's call you Kal'tsit. Does that name suit you?"
...And so it was that I descended onto the soil of Terra in this form.
******************************
"Arriving at Beryozovka shortly! Passengers departing, please gather your luggage and companions and prepare to disembark."
When I opened my eyes again, the window revealed a landscape of snow-drenched plains.
The Ursus Soviet Socialist Republic.
A garrison state serving as the Federation's spear and shield against the Ursus Empire; a place that could hardly be considered a 'normal' nation from its inception.
Following their total defeat in the 4th Battle of Dieti-Greifaburg during the Great Ursus Rebellion, the Ursus Revolutionary Committee had lost everything. They were forced to undertake a historic exodus known as the 'Long March.'
During this flight, the Radical Democratic Party attempted a betrayal. They were promptly annihilated by the indiscriminate Arts fire of the Cheka (the Extraordinary Commission for Combatting Counter-Revolution and Sabotage), which was effectively the Bolsheviks' private army. Even the party's leader perished. Meanwhile, Chairman Ilyich finally succumbed to complications from Oripathy.
Having hardened into a totalitarian core, the Ursus Revolutionary Committee fell under the absolute control of the Bolsheviks and the Left Socialist-Revolutionaries. They eventually reached western Ursus, which led to the founding of the Ursus Soviet Socialist Republic.
The Bolsheviks executed the western nobility through People's Tribunals and utilized the Cheka to ruthlessly liquidate 'counter-revolutionary forces.' The Hoover Cabinet, reeling from a de facto civil war defeat, a crushing loss in the general elections, and the collapse of their coalition, desperately approved the republic's founding and its entry into the Federation.
Five years had passed, but the scars remained raw.
[Follow the leadership of the Ursus Defense Committee! Let no citizen be swayed by the silver tongues of counter-revolutionaries!]
[Are you riding the Chollima, Comrade? Smash the passivity of conservatism!]
[Accelerate the fulfillment of the Five-Year National Economic Development Strategic Goals!]
...Occasionally, the massive propaganda hoardings visible from the railway proved that nothing had changed.
And these people held what they considered to be a 'holy land' of socialism.
"Welcome to the Cradle of the Revolution, Beryozovka."
This was the starting point of the global revolution.
I slowly stepped off the train, carrying my suitcase.
I was greeted immediately by several agents wearing blue service caps.
"Pardon the intrusion. Are you Teacher Kal'tsit?"
"Yes, I am Kal'tsit."
They bowed deeply to me.
"The people of Ursus welcome you, Teacher Kal'tsit. An official vehicle is waiting. We will take you wherever you wish to go..."
"No, that won't be necessary."
It was obvious.
Because the Ursus Republic had begun with massacres and suffered from plummeting public opinion—rendering them powerless in the Federation's central politics—they were trying to curry favor with the 'Old Guard' who held revolutionary medals to climb back up the ladder.
I had no intention of participating in such theater.
However... what if he had sent them to test me?
So, I decided to test them instead.
"I am on my way to a private audience with the Chairman."
Their mouths hung open.
They whispered amongst themselves before bowing even lower.
"W-We did not know you had business with Comrade Vladimir! Please accept our deepest apologies! We wish you a pleasant stay in the true Ursus!"
Hmm...
Fortunately, it didn't seem he was manipulating the Ursus Republican government to run an operation against me.
Bak Si-hoon... is that man still deceiving me, Theresia, and all of Terra to reach his goal?
His nature couldn't have changed, so whatever it is, it's likely not for our benefit....
But I had no choice but to go to him.
I couldn't eliminate him either.
Everything has its circumstances....
I walked into the streets.
Numerous banners fluttered in the wind.
'Welcome the Father of the People, Comrade Vladimir, to Ursus!' or 'Glory to the International Communist Party and the Central Chairman, Comrade Vladimir!'...
Phrases that even the subjects in Columbia, Gaul, Siesta, or even the Victorian Republic would find shamelessly embarrassing were plastered everywhere.
Ah, maybe a man like him would actually enjoy it.
The streets were drab, patrolled by Cheka agents in blue caps and soldiers in khaki service caps, carrying what were—by the Federation's standards—obsolete rifles.
But even these soldiers snapped to attention and let me pass the moment they saw the medal pinned to my coat. It felt unsettling.
I walked toward a log cabin located far away from the heart of the city.
It was a small cabin with several square windows.
As I opened the door, he spoke first.
"Is this about Babel? You must need my 'help' because of the civil war. Am I right?"
At those words, I could only lower my head.
I replied in a voice that trembled despite myself.
"That is... correct. We in Babel require the assistance of... the International Communist Party."
He answered simply.
"I will provide it. To the full extent of my capability."
I slowly raised my head.
Bak Si-hoon was wearing a chilling, unsettling smile.
It was as if he had finally achieved a goal he had been yearning for for decades....