Post by spanishspy on Jan 12, 2016 11:03:39 GMT
Preface: This story was written in 2011 and based off of H. G. Wells' War of the Worlds. It is the first work of fiction that I had created independently of any academic context and as such it is poorer quality than my other works.
Without further ado:
Shushenskoye, Russian Empire, 1900
Samuil Orlov peered out into the Siberian tundra within a blistering blizzard. The settlement he lived in, Shushenskoye, was desperately running out of food, and so he had been sent out on a scout party for supplies. “Hey Sevastyan, you see anything?”
“Nope” replied Sevastyan Alkaev, another member of the reconnaissance team. “I’ve got nothing. Valentin, how about you?”
“Nothi… Wait, wait a minute. I think I got something. It looks like some wrecked house or something. It’s new here, so it can’t be a building, can it?” replied Valentin Yakovlev, the third member of the party. “Guys, get over here. Could be something.”
The three men all clambered over to the area Yakovlev had seen. Faces of bewilderment came upon the men’s faces as they saw what was there: charred wood strewn across the land, with dead men, women, and horses strewn around the area. . Some of the wood seemed to be wheels that had been burned to ashes. However, the most disturbing thing was the large quantity of recently frozen ground: something rarely seen in Siberia.
“Can’t say I’m confident that this place is safe” said Alkaev. “You just don’t see stuff like this out here in the middle of this snowy hell. Looks like the sun finally decided to be merciful.”
Surveying the wrecked place, Orlov grew more and more worried. It then struck him: “Can it be…those rumors are true?”
“What was that, Samuil?” replied Yakovlev.
“Those things from space… those things that devastated Moscow, Kiev , St. Petersburg with their beams of death and their black smoke, depopulated cities in their aggressive strides. The things that killed the tsar and cleansed the west. I have heard that they succumbed to some disease in Europe , but they still lurk about here, in these wastes. I thought those were maddened rumors, but this, this shows that they may very well be true.”
“Are you certain, Orlov? Those things are supposed to be gone from earth, and this is time for us to rebuild. The priests say that God is satisfied with our punishment” said Yakovlev.
“Whatever this is, we should be looking for food and coal, not gawking around like Plato and Socrates” replied Alkaev, annoyed at his companion.
“You’re right, Sevastyan. Come on, search through the wreckage. Could even be precooked meat for us” said Orlov. “Warmth is such a luxury in Sushenkoye, you know? We gawk at the merest light source and we eat cooked meat so fast we have stomachaches afterwards.”
“You have a point, but what do you expect in this snowy hell? A hot tub fit for the tsar?” replied Alkaev.
“It is God’s punishment for our nation’s brutality and decadence” said Yakovlev, rather unamused. “If the Tsars hadn’t robbed from the poor as they did, this would never have happened. Those things from the sky were obviously divine punishment for all our sins.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, stop with the blithering. We have to look through this, not prophesize that book of hallucinations” grumbled Alkaev.
The team of three quickly scavenged through the wreckage, taking anything of value, be it food, coal, or even metals. The three, despite the freezing temperatures, gradually felt a feeling of warmth inside, not least because they were finding an amount of supplies they had never found before.
“When the entire wreck had been surveyed, the three decided to head back to Sushenskoye and return their sizable findings. Orlov, satisfied, commented “if this finding is as large as we think it is, we will be heroes at home. Even could be placed on that Council that runs the place, hmm?”
“You know that council is populated by heretics and atheists, Orlov” said Yakovlev. “They, and others like them are the reason those things fell from the sky.”
“Be quiet, you deluded madman” said Alkaev. “They are obviously but imperialists from the stars, prone to the same malignant urges as us.”
Orlov, irritated with his compatriot’s constant grumbling, replied to them “do you think, really, that arguing about philosophy will help us survive? That council is supposed to help us survive in this hellhole. Now, let’s hurry on back there before-“
“Did you hear that?” interrupted Alkaev. “I heard this large slamming noise in the distance. Do you have any idea what that could be?”
The rumbling noise steadily grew louder and louder as the seconds ticked by. The three, in their nervousness, brandished their rifles and started loading them. The blistering cold, instead of stopping the noise, only made the presence more disturbing, more unnerving.
Soon, the thunderous sounds in the distance were complemented by a gradually emerging dark figure through the clouds. It had the shape of a large round body suspended on three large tentacle-like appendages. On the body were various pieces of equipment of undetermined usage. “It is a thing from hell, deposited here to dispense carnage upon us for our punishment” murmured Yakovlev.
“Ok guys, aim your weapons!” ordered Alkaev. “This matches everything I’ve heard about these monsters. Fire when ready!”
“I wouldn’t do that if I we-“said Orlov, but he could not finish his thought, as Alkaev’s rifle fired towards the tripod.
The tripod, interrupted from its slow stride, turned slowly towards Alkaev. A light started to show from the tripod’s main body, remaining still for a few seconds until releasing a crimson beam of light in Alkaev’s direction. Alkaev said nothing as he was incinerated in a bluish blaze.
“Valentin!” cried Orlov, “Spare ourselves of your philosophy and run back towards Shushenskoye! We have seen this things power, and we cannot hope to stop it!”
The remaining two ran towards Shushenskoye, sweating despite the cold. The tripod thundered after them, but it was clear that it was being outrun. The two eventually lost sight of the tripod and stopped briefly to catch their breath. Orlov said to Yakovlev: “Do you think this thing is gone, or is it thundering towards us now, to ransack Shushenskoye?”
“It is most certainly coming to cleanse humanity from this wasteland, and Shushenskoye with it. We must be on our guard, and return there to warn the ramshackle assembly we have there. They may be Atheists and blasphemers, but they can mount a harsh resistance, as we have seen in Moscow and Kiev” replied Yakovlev.
Eventually, the two came in sight of the wall that had been hastily erected around Shushenskoye to repel any invaders that may come across. The few cannons that the Imperial Russian Army had brought to the small city looked defiantly into the winter, daring any foe to oppose them. “Are you bandits, or refugees?” yelled the sentry on the walls.
“Neither. We were sent to find food, but were encountered by an even greater enemy. Those things that sent humanity reeling in pain still wander this frozen wasteland” replied Orlov, teeth chattering.
“Come in then,” said the sentry. “I’ll take you to the assembly office. If what you say is true, this is a truly dire situation.”
“Whether the assembly can even think of repelling this thing, nobody can say. It is dominated by those blasphemous socialists it will never even acknowledge the existence of God’s desire to punish us” grumbled Yakolev, also nearly frozen.
The sentry came down from his post and escorted the two into Shushenskoye, opening the gates made of wagon covers. The two gatherers slowly hobbled in, both nearly frozen and tired of running. “It must be brutal out there for you two. I knew a guy who was sent out there and never came back. By the way, my name’s Petro Chownyk.”
Orlov, curious, asked him “Chownyk? Sounds Ukranian.”
“You’re very right. I escaped to here from Kiev when those things attacked back in 1898. I heard this was one of the better of refugee towns, and I thought that it would be a good idea. Well, at least I’m alive.”
“Nice to meet you, Chownyk. I’m Samuil Orlov, and this is Valentin Yakovlev. We had another guy with us, but one of those monsters burned him to a crisp.”
“Just goes to show what brutal circumstances we have been forced into. These things have rampaged the rest of the earth. They had the courtesy to die off back in July of last year in Europe, but not here. Here they still lurk, trying to slaughter us like livestock.”
Yakolev, eager to spread his faith, said “It is proof that the Russian People, by their arrogance against god by accepting godless socialism, has called down the wrath of God himself against us. We must now all repent, and try to survive.”
“Ehh, I would not be so sure. My faith has wavered after the destruction these things have spread. I wonder how a merciful God would tolerate this” replied Chownyk, skeptically.
Orlov, slightly annoyed with Yakovlev, suggested, “Enough with this chatter about things we know nothing of. If we want to remain living within the next few hours, now would be a good time to inform the council.”
The three hurried through the hastily erected structures of Shushenskoye towards the council hall, dodging the many people on business. Since the invasion, Shushenskoye had grown significantly due to the many refugees escaping tripod assaults on Kiev, Minsk, Pinsk , St. Petersburg , Moscow , among other areas.
The three, after a run of about fifteen minutes, arrived in the hall of the council. Chownyk opened the wooden door, creaking as it slid open. The hall was one of the few buildings in Shushenskoye before the invasion, being a government office to oversee prisoners. A receptionist was at the front desk, made from a broken wagon, clattering away on a typewriter as the three walked in. “I’m sorry, the council is currently in session. You will have to schedule an appointment to address them” said the receptionist, irritated at the interruption.
“You do not understand the situation we are in, sir. Shushenskoye could easily be destroyed soon, and the council must stop its bickering if it wants to survive!”
“I’m afraid you will have to wait, good sirs. The council has left me specific instructions to not allow anyone to-“
“Do you hear us?” Orlov yelled. “If you don’t cut through all this red tape this instant, we will all be bloody dead! Let us in now!”
“I’m sorry, but-“
The three did not even bother to listen to the receptionist’s claims and thundered through into the council chamber. They could hear yelling in the large room behind closed doors, a staple of how the council ran itself through inefficient arguing. “Do not put such faith in your untested dogma. We have found a government that works, and we should find an heir to Nicholas’ throne. There must be some survivor of the royal dynasty that can lead us into the future.”
“ARE YOU AS BLIND AS TO CLING TO YOUR IMPERIALIST WAYS ?” screamed another councilman. “ONLY THE COMBINED WILL OF THE WORKERS OF THE NATION CAN REBUILD IT! YOU HAVE OPPRESSED THE PEOPLE, AND THEY WILL NEVER SERVE A CORRUPT REGIME LIKE YOURS!”
“Today must be particularly nasty” said Chownyk, worriedly. “They are normally angry, but this is more than what we hear of.”
Orlov, unfazed, walked into the council chamber and declared “Provisional Council of Shushenskoye. My name is Samuil Orlov, and these are my companions Valentin Yakovlev and Petro Chownyk. We have come to warn the leaders of Shushenskoye of an imminent danger that approaches. The rumors of those massive walkers that destroyed cities in their wake still walking among earth are true. We have seen one ourselves, and it is striding towards here, to cleanse us from our adopted homes. We must rally the militias and prepare all the cannons we have, or face our imminent doom.”
The council was shocked, silent until one dark bearded councilman rose to confront them. “Surely you do not believe these insane delusions. They all died off months ago. “
Yakovlev, annoyed with the councilman, chimed in: “We have not heard mere rumors. We have seen them, and lost a companion to its flaming beam. We must not fall to such assumptions.”
“He is right, Witte” said the councilman who was yelling. He was a bald, goateed man that had seen many fights, and was ready for another. “I have seen for myself what you capitalists do when you confront reports of danger. In the American Union, that blinded imperialist Rockefeller refused to heed the warnings of the invaders. Standard Oil was destroyed in response.”
Witte, the former, replied “Lenin, nobody was sure in those times. But now, we do know those things are dead as Tsar Nicholas. These men are merely hallucinating.”
“Spare me your mockery of strategy, Witte” said Lenin, annoyed at Witte’s naïveté. “You know nothing of truth. You have been deceived since childhood by the decadence of the Bourgeois that have ruled this country for centuries. Wake up, Witte, and see the danger approaching us.”
Witte, dismissing Lenin, said “You needn’t bore us with your absurd doctrines of class struggle. There is absolutely no merit in them, and yet you claim-“
Lenin, furious with Witte, yelled “THIS IS YOUR PUNISHMENT FOR DENYING THE THREATS TO THE PEOPLE FOR YOUR OWN POCKETS, YOU LIAR!” Lenin reached for his belt, revealing to all a military grade pistol. Saying nothing, he lifted it up to Witte’s head and pulled the trigger. Witte said nothing more after that, sagging to the floor.
“Now, is there anyone else who objects to defending our lives and our people? Or is there anyone else who is so blind to danger?”
One councilman, in defiance of Lenin’s authority stood up and began to object, but was cut short by a loud banging noise in the distance, punctuated by screams and the noise of wooden houses engulfed in an inferno.
“It is here” said Chownyk. “You two were not lying at all.”
“We never lied. It is here to remove us from this land” said Orlov.
Suddenly, the receptionist from before rushed into the hall in a panic. “My good councilmen, you must know that-“
“We all know now, sir, we all know now” said Yakovlev, in a voice tinged with nervousness.
“Council is adjourned” announced Lenin, with a slight sound of triumph in his voice. “Tell all able bodied fighters with weapons to arm themselves. This is for our own safety, our own survival. For the common good, fight until death!”
Orlov, Chownyk, and Yakovlev hurried out with the rest of the council, arming their rifles once more. They saw many determined looking men with rifles rushing out to greet the monstrosity with a hail of bullets.
Then, a block or so away, they saw the tripods hulking stature in all its horror, staring out to the crowd. Soldiers watched in horror as their bullets did nothing.
A column of soldiers came charging in from one of the streets perpendicular to the tripod, weapons brandished. They yelled in a harmony not seen before: “For Russia and the People!” as they charged toward the monstrosity, firing the first few shots. There were brief thoughts of hope in Orlov’s head. “Maybe, just maybe, these brave soldiers will vanquish this thing from earth, and send it to the hell it came from” said Yakolev, also hopeful.
Yakolev’s hopes were in vain: The monstrosity turned, crushing buildings as it poised itself towards the attackers. Without any relent, the tripod released a black smoke from one of its side compartments. The charging soldiers, once valiant, dropped their guns and grabbed their necks, gasping for breath, though finding none. To the shock of all, they collapsed to the ground and died a slow and painful death, wheezing and coughing until their very last moments.
“Everybody, Fall Back!” yelled Chownyk. “Make sure this thing cannot harm us with that gas!”
Chownyk was heard, as many of the militia started hasting back away from the tripod. Many tripped, falling towards the frozen road, to be trampled by the unrelenting crowd. Bullets ricocheted off the machine’s hull, to little avail. Soon, the monster unleashed the weapon that had scorched Alkaev: The flaming red beam that had destroyed thousands of cities all throughout the earth.
“RUN!” screamed Orlov, seeing his comrades being reduced to ashes as the tripod made its aggressive strides towards the militia. Even so, piece by piece, the tattered militia lost men bit by bit, becoming part of the inferno that engulfed the street. Buildings fell as quickly as they had been erected, falling into piles of soot mixed with snow.
Yakolev, in a fit of hopelessness, repeatedly crossed himself, praying: “O father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven…”
Orlov, equally scared, ran with the crowd. The mob of helpless soldiers, their weapons useless against the monstrosity’s, rushed in the opposite direction, but slowly, forcedly, came to an awkward stop. “Why are we stopping?” he said, to nobody in particular.
However, no person answered him, at least not with words. Suddenly, a massive burst of noise came from the direction the crowd had been running from, followed by a noise of contorting metal in the direction of the tripod. The sounds, in that order, happened again and again, deafening those who were too close.
But then, one by one, the crowd realized something: the tripod was slowing down, and it was clear that it had been punctured by large, round, apparently metal objects. An isolated voice from the back of the crowd exclaimed, to the joy of all “It hasn’t broken. It was our cannons!”
From the distance, he was proved right as cannons of the Imperial Russian Military rolled in, their barrels smoking. They fired again, once more almost breaking the eardrums of the people near it. The tripod lurched, its systems failing. The crowd, seeing the weakness, took its rifles and aimed towards the exposed areas. The tripod, once a nearly invincible juggernaut, began to fall.
“The thing is dead!” exclaimed Yakovlev. “We have been forgiven!”
The monstrosity lurched, finally crashing towards the ground. Exuberant soldiers crowded around the deserted hull, now dormant. Their shouts of joy were interrupted by a loud, declarative voice.
“Hear, Comrades! We, the people of Russia, have been freed from the shackles of imperialism! We, the people of Russia, have triumphed over capitalism, from earth or from space!”
The crowd turned towards the orator, and recognized the well-known face: Vladimir Lenin, the Communist leader of the assembly. “Now, let us free ourselves from oppression, and establish a new government, the Russian Soviet Socialist Republic !”
The crowd cheered Lenin, smiling humbly but triumphantly. The crowd became louder still as he unfurled a red banner with a golden sickle crossed with a hammer of the same color in the canton, with a golden star next to it.
Orlov, relieved, said to Yakovlev “So, what do you think happens now? Do we embrace communism? Do we fight for the tsarists? Or will we be attacked again, by these things from space?”
Yakovlev, also calmed, replied to him “God works in mysterious ways. Maybe these communists are not as sinful as I thought. As for the invaders, I can’t say. God only knows.”
Without further ado:
IN THE WAKE OF THE TRIPOD'S STRIDE
Shushenskoye, Russian Empire, 1900
Samuil Orlov peered out into the Siberian tundra within a blistering blizzard. The settlement he lived in, Shushenskoye, was desperately running out of food, and so he had been sent out on a scout party for supplies. “Hey Sevastyan, you see anything?”
“Nope” replied Sevastyan Alkaev, another member of the reconnaissance team. “I’ve got nothing. Valentin, how about you?”
“Nothi… Wait, wait a minute. I think I got something. It looks like some wrecked house or something. It’s new here, so it can’t be a building, can it?” replied Valentin Yakovlev, the third member of the party. “Guys, get over here. Could be something.”
The three men all clambered over to the area Yakovlev had seen. Faces of bewilderment came upon the men’s faces as they saw what was there: charred wood strewn across the land, with dead men, women, and horses strewn around the area. . Some of the wood seemed to be wheels that had been burned to ashes. However, the most disturbing thing was the large quantity of recently frozen ground: something rarely seen in Siberia.
“Can’t say I’m confident that this place is safe” said Alkaev. “You just don’t see stuff like this out here in the middle of this snowy hell. Looks like the sun finally decided to be merciful.”
Surveying the wrecked place, Orlov grew more and more worried. It then struck him: “Can it be…those rumors are true?”
“What was that, Samuil?” replied Yakovlev.
“Those things from space… those things that devastated Moscow, Kiev , St. Petersburg with their beams of death and their black smoke, depopulated cities in their aggressive strides. The things that killed the tsar and cleansed the west. I have heard that they succumbed to some disease in Europe , but they still lurk about here, in these wastes. I thought those were maddened rumors, but this, this shows that they may very well be true.”
“Are you certain, Orlov? Those things are supposed to be gone from earth, and this is time for us to rebuild. The priests say that God is satisfied with our punishment” said Yakovlev.
“Whatever this is, we should be looking for food and coal, not gawking around like Plato and Socrates” replied Alkaev, annoyed at his companion.
“You’re right, Sevastyan. Come on, search through the wreckage. Could even be precooked meat for us” said Orlov. “Warmth is such a luxury in Sushenkoye, you know? We gawk at the merest light source and we eat cooked meat so fast we have stomachaches afterwards.”
“You have a point, but what do you expect in this snowy hell? A hot tub fit for the tsar?” replied Alkaev.
“It is God’s punishment for our nation’s brutality and decadence” said Yakovlev, rather unamused. “If the Tsars hadn’t robbed from the poor as they did, this would never have happened. Those things from the sky were obviously divine punishment for all our sins.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, stop with the blithering. We have to look through this, not prophesize that book of hallucinations” grumbled Alkaev.
The team of three quickly scavenged through the wreckage, taking anything of value, be it food, coal, or even metals. The three, despite the freezing temperatures, gradually felt a feeling of warmth inside, not least because they were finding an amount of supplies they had never found before.
“When the entire wreck had been surveyed, the three decided to head back to Sushenskoye and return their sizable findings. Orlov, satisfied, commented “if this finding is as large as we think it is, we will be heroes at home. Even could be placed on that Council that runs the place, hmm?”
“You know that council is populated by heretics and atheists, Orlov” said Yakovlev. “They, and others like them are the reason those things fell from the sky.”
“Be quiet, you deluded madman” said Alkaev. “They are obviously but imperialists from the stars, prone to the same malignant urges as us.”
Orlov, irritated with his compatriot’s constant grumbling, replied to them “do you think, really, that arguing about philosophy will help us survive? That council is supposed to help us survive in this hellhole. Now, let’s hurry on back there before-“
“Did you hear that?” interrupted Alkaev. “I heard this large slamming noise in the distance. Do you have any idea what that could be?”
The rumbling noise steadily grew louder and louder as the seconds ticked by. The three, in their nervousness, brandished their rifles and started loading them. The blistering cold, instead of stopping the noise, only made the presence more disturbing, more unnerving.
Soon, the thunderous sounds in the distance were complemented by a gradually emerging dark figure through the clouds. It had the shape of a large round body suspended on three large tentacle-like appendages. On the body were various pieces of equipment of undetermined usage. “It is a thing from hell, deposited here to dispense carnage upon us for our punishment” murmured Yakovlev.
“Ok guys, aim your weapons!” ordered Alkaev. “This matches everything I’ve heard about these monsters. Fire when ready!”
“I wouldn’t do that if I we-“said Orlov, but he could not finish his thought, as Alkaev’s rifle fired towards the tripod.
The tripod, interrupted from its slow stride, turned slowly towards Alkaev. A light started to show from the tripod’s main body, remaining still for a few seconds until releasing a crimson beam of light in Alkaev’s direction. Alkaev said nothing as he was incinerated in a bluish blaze.
“Valentin!” cried Orlov, “Spare ourselves of your philosophy and run back towards Shushenskoye! We have seen this things power, and we cannot hope to stop it!”
The remaining two ran towards Shushenskoye, sweating despite the cold. The tripod thundered after them, but it was clear that it was being outrun. The two eventually lost sight of the tripod and stopped briefly to catch their breath. Orlov said to Yakovlev: “Do you think this thing is gone, or is it thundering towards us now, to ransack Shushenskoye?”
“It is most certainly coming to cleanse humanity from this wasteland, and Shushenskoye with it. We must be on our guard, and return there to warn the ramshackle assembly we have there. They may be Atheists and blasphemers, but they can mount a harsh resistance, as we have seen in Moscow and Kiev” replied Yakovlev.
Eventually, the two came in sight of the wall that had been hastily erected around Shushenskoye to repel any invaders that may come across. The few cannons that the Imperial Russian Army had brought to the small city looked defiantly into the winter, daring any foe to oppose them. “Are you bandits, or refugees?” yelled the sentry on the walls.
“Neither. We were sent to find food, but were encountered by an even greater enemy. Those things that sent humanity reeling in pain still wander this frozen wasteland” replied Orlov, teeth chattering.
“Come in then,” said the sentry. “I’ll take you to the assembly office. If what you say is true, this is a truly dire situation.”
“Whether the assembly can even think of repelling this thing, nobody can say. It is dominated by those blasphemous socialists it will never even acknowledge the existence of God’s desire to punish us” grumbled Yakolev, also nearly frozen.
The sentry came down from his post and escorted the two into Shushenskoye, opening the gates made of wagon covers. The two gatherers slowly hobbled in, both nearly frozen and tired of running. “It must be brutal out there for you two. I knew a guy who was sent out there and never came back. By the way, my name’s Petro Chownyk.”
Orlov, curious, asked him “Chownyk? Sounds Ukranian.”
“You’re very right. I escaped to here from Kiev when those things attacked back in 1898. I heard this was one of the better of refugee towns, and I thought that it would be a good idea. Well, at least I’m alive.”
“Nice to meet you, Chownyk. I’m Samuil Orlov, and this is Valentin Yakovlev. We had another guy with us, but one of those monsters burned him to a crisp.”
“Just goes to show what brutal circumstances we have been forced into. These things have rampaged the rest of the earth. They had the courtesy to die off back in July of last year in Europe, but not here. Here they still lurk, trying to slaughter us like livestock.”
Yakolev, eager to spread his faith, said “It is proof that the Russian People, by their arrogance against god by accepting godless socialism, has called down the wrath of God himself against us. We must now all repent, and try to survive.”
“Ehh, I would not be so sure. My faith has wavered after the destruction these things have spread. I wonder how a merciful God would tolerate this” replied Chownyk, skeptically.
Orlov, slightly annoyed with Yakovlev, suggested, “Enough with this chatter about things we know nothing of. If we want to remain living within the next few hours, now would be a good time to inform the council.”
The three hurried through the hastily erected structures of Shushenskoye towards the council hall, dodging the many people on business. Since the invasion, Shushenskoye had grown significantly due to the many refugees escaping tripod assaults on Kiev, Minsk, Pinsk , St. Petersburg , Moscow , among other areas.
The three, after a run of about fifteen minutes, arrived in the hall of the council. Chownyk opened the wooden door, creaking as it slid open. The hall was one of the few buildings in Shushenskoye before the invasion, being a government office to oversee prisoners. A receptionist was at the front desk, made from a broken wagon, clattering away on a typewriter as the three walked in. “I’m sorry, the council is currently in session. You will have to schedule an appointment to address them” said the receptionist, irritated at the interruption.
“You do not understand the situation we are in, sir. Shushenskoye could easily be destroyed soon, and the council must stop its bickering if it wants to survive!”
“I’m afraid you will have to wait, good sirs. The council has left me specific instructions to not allow anyone to-“
“Do you hear us?” Orlov yelled. “If you don’t cut through all this red tape this instant, we will all be bloody dead! Let us in now!”
“I’m sorry, but-“
The three did not even bother to listen to the receptionist’s claims and thundered through into the council chamber. They could hear yelling in the large room behind closed doors, a staple of how the council ran itself through inefficient arguing. “Do not put such faith in your untested dogma. We have found a government that works, and we should find an heir to Nicholas’ throne. There must be some survivor of the royal dynasty that can lead us into the future.”
“ARE YOU AS BLIND AS TO CLING TO YOUR IMPERIALIST WAYS ?” screamed another councilman. “ONLY THE COMBINED WILL OF THE WORKERS OF THE NATION CAN REBUILD IT! YOU HAVE OPPRESSED THE PEOPLE, AND THEY WILL NEVER SERVE A CORRUPT REGIME LIKE YOURS!”
“Today must be particularly nasty” said Chownyk, worriedly. “They are normally angry, but this is more than what we hear of.”
Orlov, unfazed, walked into the council chamber and declared “Provisional Council of Shushenskoye. My name is Samuil Orlov, and these are my companions Valentin Yakovlev and Petro Chownyk. We have come to warn the leaders of Shushenskoye of an imminent danger that approaches. The rumors of those massive walkers that destroyed cities in their wake still walking among earth are true. We have seen one ourselves, and it is striding towards here, to cleanse us from our adopted homes. We must rally the militias and prepare all the cannons we have, or face our imminent doom.”
The council was shocked, silent until one dark bearded councilman rose to confront them. “Surely you do not believe these insane delusions. They all died off months ago. “
Yakovlev, annoyed with the councilman, chimed in: “We have not heard mere rumors. We have seen them, and lost a companion to its flaming beam. We must not fall to such assumptions.”
“He is right, Witte” said the councilman who was yelling. He was a bald, goateed man that had seen many fights, and was ready for another. “I have seen for myself what you capitalists do when you confront reports of danger. In the American Union, that blinded imperialist Rockefeller refused to heed the warnings of the invaders. Standard Oil was destroyed in response.”
Witte, the former, replied “Lenin, nobody was sure in those times. But now, we do know those things are dead as Tsar Nicholas. These men are merely hallucinating.”
“Spare me your mockery of strategy, Witte” said Lenin, annoyed at Witte’s naïveté. “You know nothing of truth. You have been deceived since childhood by the decadence of the Bourgeois that have ruled this country for centuries. Wake up, Witte, and see the danger approaching us.”
Witte, dismissing Lenin, said “You needn’t bore us with your absurd doctrines of class struggle. There is absolutely no merit in them, and yet you claim-“
Lenin, furious with Witte, yelled “THIS IS YOUR PUNISHMENT FOR DENYING THE THREATS TO THE PEOPLE FOR YOUR OWN POCKETS, YOU LIAR!” Lenin reached for his belt, revealing to all a military grade pistol. Saying nothing, he lifted it up to Witte’s head and pulled the trigger. Witte said nothing more after that, sagging to the floor.
“Now, is there anyone else who objects to defending our lives and our people? Or is there anyone else who is so blind to danger?”
One councilman, in defiance of Lenin’s authority stood up and began to object, but was cut short by a loud banging noise in the distance, punctuated by screams and the noise of wooden houses engulfed in an inferno.
“It is here” said Chownyk. “You two were not lying at all.”
“We never lied. It is here to remove us from this land” said Orlov.
Suddenly, the receptionist from before rushed into the hall in a panic. “My good councilmen, you must know that-“
“We all know now, sir, we all know now” said Yakovlev, in a voice tinged with nervousness.
“Council is adjourned” announced Lenin, with a slight sound of triumph in his voice. “Tell all able bodied fighters with weapons to arm themselves. This is for our own safety, our own survival. For the common good, fight until death!”
Orlov, Chownyk, and Yakovlev hurried out with the rest of the council, arming their rifles once more. They saw many determined looking men with rifles rushing out to greet the monstrosity with a hail of bullets.
Then, a block or so away, they saw the tripods hulking stature in all its horror, staring out to the crowd. Soldiers watched in horror as their bullets did nothing.
A column of soldiers came charging in from one of the streets perpendicular to the tripod, weapons brandished. They yelled in a harmony not seen before: “For Russia and the People!” as they charged toward the monstrosity, firing the first few shots. There were brief thoughts of hope in Orlov’s head. “Maybe, just maybe, these brave soldiers will vanquish this thing from earth, and send it to the hell it came from” said Yakolev, also hopeful.
Yakolev’s hopes were in vain: The monstrosity turned, crushing buildings as it poised itself towards the attackers. Without any relent, the tripod released a black smoke from one of its side compartments. The charging soldiers, once valiant, dropped their guns and grabbed their necks, gasping for breath, though finding none. To the shock of all, they collapsed to the ground and died a slow and painful death, wheezing and coughing until their very last moments.
“Everybody, Fall Back!” yelled Chownyk. “Make sure this thing cannot harm us with that gas!”
Chownyk was heard, as many of the militia started hasting back away from the tripod. Many tripped, falling towards the frozen road, to be trampled by the unrelenting crowd. Bullets ricocheted off the machine’s hull, to little avail. Soon, the monster unleashed the weapon that had scorched Alkaev: The flaming red beam that had destroyed thousands of cities all throughout the earth.
“RUN!” screamed Orlov, seeing his comrades being reduced to ashes as the tripod made its aggressive strides towards the militia. Even so, piece by piece, the tattered militia lost men bit by bit, becoming part of the inferno that engulfed the street. Buildings fell as quickly as they had been erected, falling into piles of soot mixed with snow.
Yakolev, in a fit of hopelessness, repeatedly crossed himself, praying: “O father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven…”
Orlov, equally scared, ran with the crowd. The mob of helpless soldiers, their weapons useless against the monstrosity’s, rushed in the opposite direction, but slowly, forcedly, came to an awkward stop. “Why are we stopping?” he said, to nobody in particular.
However, no person answered him, at least not with words. Suddenly, a massive burst of noise came from the direction the crowd had been running from, followed by a noise of contorting metal in the direction of the tripod. The sounds, in that order, happened again and again, deafening those who were too close.
But then, one by one, the crowd realized something: the tripod was slowing down, and it was clear that it had been punctured by large, round, apparently metal objects. An isolated voice from the back of the crowd exclaimed, to the joy of all “It hasn’t broken. It was our cannons!”
From the distance, he was proved right as cannons of the Imperial Russian Military rolled in, their barrels smoking. They fired again, once more almost breaking the eardrums of the people near it. The tripod lurched, its systems failing. The crowd, seeing the weakness, took its rifles and aimed towards the exposed areas. The tripod, once a nearly invincible juggernaut, began to fall.
“The thing is dead!” exclaimed Yakovlev. “We have been forgiven!”
The monstrosity lurched, finally crashing towards the ground. Exuberant soldiers crowded around the deserted hull, now dormant. Their shouts of joy were interrupted by a loud, declarative voice.
“Hear, Comrades! We, the people of Russia, have been freed from the shackles of imperialism! We, the people of Russia, have triumphed over capitalism, from earth or from space!”
The crowd turned towards the orator, and recognized the well-known face: Vladimir Lenin, the Communist leader of the assembly. “Now, let us free ourselves from oppression, and establish a new government, the Russian Soviet Socialist Republic !”
The crowd cheered Lenin, smiling humbly but triumphantly. The crowd became louder still as he unfurled a red banner with a golden sickle crossed with a hammer of the same color in the canton, with a golden star next to it.
Orlov, relieved, said to Yakovlev “So, what do you think happens now? Do we embrace communism? Do we fight for the tsarists? Or will we be attacked again, by these things from space?”
Yakovlev, also calmed, replied to him “God works in mysterious ways. Maybe these communists are not as sinful as I thought. As for the invaders, I can’t say. God only knows.”
