No More Learning

Just wait! ", answered HOK. „l have to look for some special

things. For example, if there is an entry like: JOS" (informer

of the state) or „ROP" (receiver of official privileges) - what

would mean, that you are an informer - or you have been it

once. "

„What do you want from me? Tim no informer, man! ",

screamed Frank.

„You don't have anything to do with such things! Your old

Scanchip is clean, don't worry! ", calmed him HOK.



89



„This is not the problem. . . ", he continued. „We must be very

careful and everybody in Ivas has to endure this process! "

„Then you want to establish your own little surveillance state

here, isn't it? ", gnarled Frank angrily.

„No, we do not want that! ", replied HOK and seemed to feel

ashamed.

„l looked at the cross references, concerning your family

members and your relatives. I'm sorry, this didn't belong to

my tasks and I must excuse myself for that", murmured

HOK sheepishly and stared at his keyboard.

„And then you pretend to fight against the World

Government! Maybe these guys were also just bored, and

so they decided one day, to spy out all the other people! ",

grumbled Kohlhaas.

"I'm sorry! Really! " HOK tried to calm down his angry guest.

. . Unfortunately, I have noticed something terrible on your

Scanchip: Rainer Kohlhaas is your father, right? And

Martina Gunther, born Kohlhaas, your sister, isn't it?

Nico Gunther your nephew. . . ? "

. . What's up with them? ", asked Frank excitedly.

„The Scanchips of Rainer Kohlhaas and Martina Gunther

are shut down. Their citizen numbers will be assigned to

other people in the near future. . . ", spoke HOK quietly.

"What? ", Frank winced.

„On the Scanchip of your father, there is an arrest note on

09. 04. 2028. At the beginning of June 2028, it has finally

been shut down. As additive there is a footnote: "ODOA"

(official deactivation by official arrangement) and further

„CSO" (citizen switched off). He has been liquidated! ",

explained HOK.

. . What? ", cried Frank in pain.

„lt's the same in the case of your sister. She was first

arrested, and then liquidated. Your nephew. . . " HOK was

interrupted.



90



„What? What's up with Nico? ", gasped Frank with fright in

his eyes. "Tell me what. . . "

„He is registered here as an "orphan in national care". So he

is still alive! " The computer scientist didn't dare to look in

Frank's direction.

But it didn't work. The young man was speechless with

terror and sank back on the chair. He struggled for air and

tried to shake off the claws of horror that griped his throat

and took his breath away. But it was impossible.

Within a few seconds, he fell into a black hole of despair

and ran crying out of the house of the computer scientist. All

the distress and the fear had returned now. They had

spared him in the last months, to come back in this second

in their whole, dark size.

In the next days, Frank hardly left his sleeping room. Alf
tried to explain to him, that the arresting of relatives or
family members was used by the system, to lure
disappeared offenders out of their hideouts, to make them
ring up at home, while the telehone call was bugged, or to
make them even visit their old homes. But Frank just told
him to back off.

Now the scary nights returned and the mental terror, the
holo cell had kindled in his mind, crawled around him in the
darkness, arm in arm in old unity with the new horrors.
Again, the young man thought about following his parents
and his sister to the netherworld, he mused about
terminating his hopeless existence, but Alf stopped him from
doing such things and cared for Frank as good as he could.

When September brought the autumn to Ivas, Frank was
afflicted by a strange dream one night. He could no longer
completely remember each detail, when he woke up again



91



on the next morning with a bad headache, but the most
pictures remained in his memory.

He was a spectator in an hall, which looked very similar to a
court room. In front of him were the judge desk and the
dock, and only this place was lit by a lamp. The rest of the
room remained in a hazy twilight, also the seat rows of the
spectators, on which Frank sat alone. In front of the dock
were two persons and Frank could not exactly recognize,
who it was, because he saw only their backs. Behind the
judge desk was no human being, it was rather a shadow or
a ghost.

"The negotiation starts! ", called the shade. „Be quiet please!
Today, we talk about the following criminal case: The
politics against Mr. Rainer Kohlhaas and Mrs. Martina
Gunther, born Kohlhaas. "

The two accused turned around and gave Frank a fearful
look. It were his father and his sister. Now they turned
around to the judge again, because he began with his
remarks. The spectator nervously stared at the ghost and
tried to decipher the name on the plate, which was on the
desk in front of him. Only after an arduous staring, Frank
was able to recognize that there was no name. The only
words on the plate were "The Politics". Now the judge read
out the charges and began with the interrogation.
J will start with you, Mr. Rainer Kohlhaas", he said with a
glowering, deep voice. „Can you remember, that you have
ever cared about the important facts around me? "
„Well, I have already been concerned with you, if it had
something to do with my life", stammered Rainer Kohlhaas.
„Can you describe that more exactly? ", asked the judge.
„Thus, I watched TV and read the newspapers", Rainer
Kohlhaas tried to explain.



92



„And you, Mrs. Martina Gunther? Did you have ever

seriously worried about me? ", grumbled the shady judge

with a threatening voice.

. . Perhaps not enough. Only sometimes. I was too busy,

most of the time. My job was full of stress and so I had other

things on my mind than thinking about you. . . ", replied

Frank's sister sheepishly.

„And it was the same in your case, Mr. Kohlhaas? ",

resented the judge angrily.

,,1'm sorry, but if Tm honest, I have just worked all my life,

and have primarily cared about myself. It was a constant

struggle to survive and to make money. And finally, there

has been no more time to think about any politics",

explained Rainer Kohlhaas ruefully.

„And you really think, that was enough? That you could just

ignore me in all these years? ", hissed the ghost.

"Please forgive us, Mr. Judge! Today, we know that we

have made a big mistake! But we still have watched the

news on television. . . ", Rainer Kohlhaas tried to justify

himself.

"Yes, I did the same! ", agreed Martina.

"And you think, it was sufficient, if others talked about me

and you just parroted their slogans? Why didn't you think

about me for yourself? ", asked the shadow reproachfully

and stared at them.

"Forgive us, Mr. Judge, but we viewed many other things in

our life as more important, than caring about politics! ",

lamented the two accused, full of sorrow.

Suddenly Frank appeared at another place in his dream. A
disgusting stench became noticeable to him at first. It
crawled over the ground right into his nostrils. He was on a
great field that extended till the horizon, and only some
mountains were recognizable, somewhere in the far



93



distance. Now he saw, what covered this field. It were
corpses. Hundreds, thousands, millions. They terribly stank
and rotted. The grey, dead skin of the bodies was shrunken,
and larvae, maggots and worms crept out of the mouths and
eye sockets of the dead.

This graveyard was gigantic, it was full of men, women,
children - some had died lately, others were already putrid
and had become skeletons.

Frank had to be careful, trying not to slip and fall by walking
on this carpet of bones and rotting flesh, because the sea of
the dead seemed to be endless and it filled the plain till the
horizon. The young man simply went straight ahead for
some hours and he was scared of this terrible environment.
But the plain still extended and was still covered with
countless corpses. Then he suddenly recognized, that the
mountains in front of him were gigantic piles of skulls.
Millions of skulls, towering up, to create an atrocious picture.
Frank walked through the land of the dead and when he
already thought, that he would never find a way out of this
terrible world, he suddenly heard a voice.
„Frank Kohlhaas! ", it resounded from somewhere far
beyond. The dreamer went to the place, from which he had
heard the voice and could soon recognize a dark spot that
continued to grow, the nearer he came. Then he saw that it
was the shadowy man, the eerie judge, who called him.
J am the politics, Frank Kohlhaas! Nice going, my boy! Now
you have found me! Here they are! ", said the ghost and
pointed at the ground.

There lay Rainer Kohlhaas, his father, and Martina Gunther,
his sister. Both had been killed with a headshot and their
bodies were rotting, while maggots crawled over their faces.



94



"Mark my words, Frank Kohlhaas! If you don't care
about politics, politics will care about you one day! ",

shouted the judge.

Frank startled up and could not sleep anymore for the rest
of the night. . .

The rest of the year 2028 passed without any changes in

the life of the young man. The winter in Lithuania was really

unpleasant and very cold, and there was no sign of that

global warming, the international media had proclaimed in

2011, in order to justify coercive measures and further

restrictions of civil rights.

Frank's fear, his sleep disturbances and his depressions

still came in waves and particularly in these dark winter

months he had to suffer.

Wilden and the other villagers had given him a lot of tasks,

he had to do for the community. And this was good,

because it diverted him. During autumn, the fields around

Ivas were harvested by the inhabitants and the yields were

made winterproof, like in old times.

All this was also a new ground for Frank, since he had only

eaten the cheap food of the big agrarian companies so far.

Moreover, Alf and he renovated the old house, but they

progressed slowly. Apart from this, the young renegade was

not yet ready to join the group of rebels - if it were rebels at

all.

Except for talking, Frank hadn't noticed any considerable

rebellion, although Wilden told him everything about politics,

without having a break.

His daughter didn't seem to think a great deal of him and

Frank was sure that she still distrusted him too. But at least,

he had aroused her compassion. . . Nevertheless, ti is

something! ", thought Kohlhaas.



95



When it was stormy outside and the ice rain pattered
against the still leaky windows, when it was dark and cold,
Frank felt lost. Even if Alf was in the next room, looking for
some new informations on the Internet. Sometimes
Kohlhaas heard him rant and sometimes Baumer jubilated.
„ls this my life for the next decades? ", he occasionally asked
himself. „ls this my fate? Hanging around in this dump in
Lithuania, with this gang of so called freedom fighters? "
If he saw the face of his father and his sister in front of his
inner eye, if he thought about the holo cell and about the
fact, that his little nephew was raised somewhere in an
institute for brainwashing, while his sister, who had never
done something wrong in her life, was rotting in a mass
grave, he was fuming with rage.

„Alf, what is the meaning of the symbol of the "Red Moon"
groups? Please explain it to me again? ", he asked his fellow
one evening.

„l already answered that question! ", remarked Alf, who
wanted to go to bed.

„l want to know it - exactly! ", said Frank with a black look,
which even caused some respect in Alf.
„Well, it is an old cult symbol. The "bloody moon" or „blood-
moon". The old Celts, just as many other people of the
ancient times, knew this mystical indication. In the winter, it
was more important than everything else. At that time, the
cattle was slaughtered in great numbers before the
beginning of the snowfall on a certain full moon night.
Therefore, our ancestors called this moon the "blood moon".
Moreover, it was also a ritual for the old gods, in order to
invoke their protection and assistance in the cold months.
The elders cast a magic circle with blood, drank red wine,
prayed and danced. Some even believed, that during this
ritual not only the souls of the decedents were present, but



96



also the spirits of the animals, which had donated their lifes

to give food to the humans", explained Alf.

„Then it was some kind of ritual for the dead? ", asked Frank

then.

„This is one meaning. The other meaning is the coming war,

the revenge, the bloodshed, the rage of battle. One also

knows the bloody moon as a warning to the enemy. It just

depends on the interpretation of the symbol. The founders

of the „Red Moon" groups thought, that this sign would just

look cool or interesting", said Baumer.

„l like the second meaning! Yes! ", hissed Frank.

Alfred looked at him with surprise, scraping with his fingers

over the wooden table.

„l_et us bring the blood moon upon our enemies! I will talk to

Wilden. If I join your so called rebellion, I fucking want to

make rebellion! ", grumbled Frank.

„We are rebels. . . ", returned Alf and stared at his aggressive

fellow.

"I hope it! I want to take lives! ", screamed Kohlhaas and

banged his fist on the table. „Revenge! Blood moon! "

Frank turned around and went to his room. He slammed the

door behind himself and up to the next morning, Baumer

didn't see him again.



97



Rebellion and Fresh Snow



It did not last long, until Ivas was covered with a thick
mantle of snow and it was bitterly cold. Frank and Alf could
only stay in the largest room of their house, where the old
wood fired oven was located.

This season was more than unpleasant and often both men
needed some blankets to warm theirselves. But at least, the
roof didn't have no more holes and it didn't snow into the
upper floor of the old building. This was better than nothing.
Today, Frank Kohlhaas made the decision to talk to
Thorsten Wilden. He wanted to become a real rebel and
promised himself to join the fight - but he still didn't know
how.

It was a grey winter morning and the few sources of light in
the inhabited houses of the village, had no real chance to
repel the twilight.

A resolute Frank trudged through the fresh snow of the last
night, toward the house of Thorsten Wilden. The young man
finally had enough of the monotonousness in this so called
rebel base.

„You want me? You can have me! ", he whispered to
himself.

After a while, Frank reached the house of the village boss
and knocked on the door. Agatha Wilden opened and Julia
could be seen behind her in the corridor. Kohlhaas gave
them a quiet „Hello! ". Then Wilden appeared on the stairs,
which led to the upper floor.

„Frank! Welcome! What can I do for you? ", asked the gray-
haired gentleman with sursprise. The village boss seemed
to be overslept and was still unshaved.



98



„We need to talk, Mr. Wilden! ", answered Frank with a

vacant expression, which neither Julia nor Agatha Wilden

had ever seen before. Kohlhaas scowled and crossed his

arms.

„Well, we go to my office! ", said the rebel leader.

„Okay! Let's go! ", muttered Frank and went up the stairs.

Then both men sat opposite to each other and Frank started

to talk, before Wilden could begin.

„This is not a holiday camp, you have said to me. Well!

Well! ", spoke Frank with an angry face. „This is a rebel

base, you have told me, Mr. Wilden! "

„lt is! ", returned the older gentleman, looking at his young

guest, who behaved queerly today.

„AII right! Then we shall start a rebellion! First, I would like to

learn to shoot! Assault rifle, machine gun, handguns. Is that

okay, Mr. Wilden? ", said Frank, somehow demanding.

J think you can! ", answered the village boss.

„Great, Mr. Wilden! I am ready now. I know that some of the

guys here talk about me after the slogan: We just feed that

Frank, but he is useless and does not join our great fight.

Well, here I am! Ready for combat! If there is a big fight

here at all, because I haven't noticed a fucking rebellion

yet! ", teased the young man.

„First and foremost, we develop self-sufficient structures.

The armed operation, concerning your liberation, has been

an exception. Otherwise, we plan no further things of that

character for the next time", explained Wilden.

„However! ", said Kohlhaas. „lf any special operations start,

then let me know it. I will join them. My life isn't important

and I will show you, that I have more guts, than most of

these farmers, who treat me with scorn. Thus, you let me

know, if there is some action, okay? Have a nice day and

greetings to Fraulein Julia, Mr. Wilden! "



99



Frank knocked on the table, smiled informally and left the
room. He ran down the stairs, murmured a "Tschuft! " to
Julia and closed the front door behind him. Thorsten Wilden,
his wife and his daugtherwere perturbed. This part of Frank
had been unknown to them yet. And Frank was surprised
about that side of his personality too.

"If I shall revolt, I have to learn to shoot, Alf! Where are your

weapons? ", Frank edged his unnerved friend.

"You make my nerves explode, Kohlhaas! What do you

want from me? ", screamed Alf. His roommate didn't stop his

urging and slowly became aggressive.

J go to Wilden! ", grumbled the young man.

„Okay, I have a gun. If you like, we can do some firing

practices in the forest", groaned Alf.

„AII right! What are you waiting for? ", answered Frank with a

grin.

Baumer went into the cellar and finally returned with a Glock

in his hand. Then the two men left the house.

„rm dying to know if you hit something! ", teased Alf his

friend on the way to the nearby forest behind the village, but

Frank just gazed at the ground. After they had waded

through the high snow for a while, Alf stopped.

„Do you see that knothole in the birch over there? ", he

asked Frank.

„Of course, give me the gun! ", answered Kohlhaas.

Without further thinking, the young man aimed for the tree,

which was about ten meters away from him.

„Bang! Bang! Bang! "

Alfred ran to the birch, after Frank had shot the magazine

empty. He was astonished. Most of the bullets had hit the

little knothole and large pieces of crust had been torn out.

„Not bad, boy! ", he remarked and waved the inexperienced

shooter nearer.



100



„How many times have you already shot in your life? "

„Never before! ", answered Kohlhaas and smiled.

„Your lately grown self-confidence seems to make even a

good shooter of you", murmured Alf.

Shortly afterwards, Kohlhaas shot three further magazines

empty. Then they had to stop, in order to waste not too

much ammunition. Baumer was quite impressed, that his

fellow had hit the target relative exactly.

„Wilden can organize an assault rifle and a machine gun for

you. Then you can practice with them", promised Alf. A little

later, they went back to their house again. Dusk was falling.

So strange and insignificant it was, at first sight - Alf s

compliment had filled the young Frank with pride. He smiled

confidently and looked already forward to the next firing

practices with the bigger war weapons, the real "Wummen".

Apparently, he had a talent for shooting. And that he had a

talent for something, he hadn't heard all too often in his life

before.

Frank spent the first two weeks of the cold and wet January,

the ugliest month the year, with numerous firing practices

and the reading of political and historical books, that Wilden

had given to him. Moreover with occasional works for the

community.

Meanwhile, he felt a little more accepted by the other

villagers, after he had signaled that he was ready to join the

fight.

Even Julia Wilden had smiled at him for the first time, when

he had asked her father for more ammunition for his

weapons at the door. He blustered into the thought of

becoming a rebel. Therefore, Kohlhaas shot during his firing

practices, in his mind, rather at hazy prison guards,

policemen or politicians, as at bottles or trees. Often he

grinned like a happy child, when the cold steel of a rifle slid



101



into his hand. His shooting results became better and better
and when he went to bed, after an arduous day, he often
mused about the blood moon and did not notice, how
malicious his smile had become.

Alfred observed him with scepticism. Frank appeared
calmly, and sometimes he just absently stared out the
window and bit on his lower lip, till it began to bleed.
Usually he did not even seem to notice it. The young man
was eager to learn the art of killing in all its facets. Often he
talked of nothing else but fighting during the dinner. He
philosophized about the possibilities of resistance, the
revolution and the counter-propaganda. Some ideas
appeared to Alf even ingeniously, others were just childish
and crazy. Something proceeded under Frank's skullcap,
was slowly bred like an evil child.

In these days, in which Frank only talked about assault
rifles, grenade launchers and methods of killing people,
Baumer thought, that Kohlhaas was screwy. Moreover,
Frank asked John Thorphy to buy a whole arsenal of
weapons for him.

„Maybe, your beloved war will find you sooner as you think,
my friend", told him Alf once. "We will have a bigger meeting
at the end of the month, then I can take you with me! "
„A Meeting? What meeting? To shovel some snow? ",
scoffed Frank.

„Fuck off! I can't hear your speeches about the revolution
anymore, Frank. Keep cool and find the way back to reality.
We will not start to run around like a horde of boozy apes to
shoot everybody. Do your firing practices or throw your knife
at trees or do something else! ", grumbled Baumer angrily.
Now, Frank became angry too and went to his undercooled
room. Most of all, he had liked to kick Alf in the face - or
someone else.