No More Learning

These men were workers of the public utilities of
Paris, and made their daily inspection round here. Alf hoped
that they would not come too often.

After he had observed them for a while, and one the
workers had examined a water basin, the two men walked
away and disappeared into a sewer corridor.
Alf heard them talk loudly. Then their voices faded away in
the distance. The rebel turned around and sneaked again
towards the closed metro tunnel.

„l just hope, they haven't noticed that we have opened
those grids and that steel door", he said quietly to himself.
But the workers had made a calm impression. This was
obviously just an usual inspection round, that they made
repeatedly, and with not much eagerness. And even if they
would repair something, Frank and Alfred could still destroy
it in the next night again. Kohlhaas was waiting at the small
campfire and was relieved, when he saw Alfred creeping
through the hole in the wall.

„Damn! Where have you been? Thank God, it was your
flashlight. All right! I have already pulled my gun! ", said
Kohlhaas.



166



„lt were just some workers", explained Alf and sat down

beside his friend. . . Let's see, who will come down here

tomorrow! "

„Do you know, that they have found a full-grown alligator in

the canalization of Paris some years ago? ", interrupted him

Frank and smiled grimly, looking at his comrade.

„l still prefer alligators to cops, Franky! ", answered Alf.

This time, the night, that could only be differentiated from

the day by a look at the clock, was almost relaxing for the

two rebels. It was a bit like in the good old schooldays,

before a classwork, after a long time of learning. They knew

that the big showdown was inevitable now.

Tomorrow was the day of their final paper. Maybe a little

more bloody and dangerous as a class test. Frank and

Alfred kept guard once more and no ghosts or shades

appeared.

At 6. 30 o'clock, Alfred's DC-stick beeped and woke the two

men. The campfire was still glowing, otherwise the cold

darkness had crept into each corner of the metro shaft

again.

They slowly got up and ate a few toasts for breakfast. The

slices of bread tasted like nothing, this cheap and lousy

grub from . . Globe Food". But it could still be used as a

possible last meal.

„We must go to our target area now. If some cops come

down here today, then in the morning hours. We must keep

everything in sight", explained Baumer and examined the

equipment on completeness.

He checked the time fuse of the bomb several times. Then

he hid the explosive under a pile of debris to avoid that any

derelicts find it. Meanwhile, Frank Kohlhaas looked at his

DC-stick. He wanted to make no mistakes, although they

had already gone the way twice. Like canal rats, which had

meanwhile become accustomed to their wet and dark home,



167



they silently crept through the sewer corridors and were
particularly careful in the bigger halls, which hardly offered
any cover.

They groped in the dark of the tunnels, mostly with just one
flashlight in use, in order to cause no all too big light cones.
Shortly afterwards, they came to the larger vault with the
water pumps, that reminded Frank of „Moria" from the old
film. Now they saw that the steel door was still open.
Kohlhaas beheld the lamp. It looked like the blinde eye of a
Cyclops, staring at him. Nobody seemed to have been here
or nobody had recognized the destruction of the door. Both
men breathed again.

After a walk through several sewer corridors, they had
already come close to their goal. Now they squatted in a
dark corner and waited. The "Temple of Tolerance" and the
metro station „Charles de Gaulle" were near. They heard a
metro rumbling in the distance. Cars could not be heard
today, because the "Avenue of Humanity" had already been
closed off since a few hours. Suddenly human voices came
nearer and the two men looked at each other. What was
that?

At this very second, a cone of light shot directly above their

heads. Frank's and Alfred's hearts dived. But the ray

fortunately found no target, except for rusty pipes and the

dark throat of a sewer corridor.

A policeman of the GP, the "Global Police", approached and

scoured the environment for something.

„There is nothing here! ", he shouted at one of his

colleagues, obviously also no Frenchman. The other man

answered in a strange sounding jargon.

„Okay! ", it resounded out of another sewer tunnel in the

proximity of the "Temple of Tolerance".

„This job is fucked up! ", said the cop near Frank.



168



Obviously he had no greater desire to crawl through dark

and stinky sewers.

„Check the tunnels in your area! ", shouted the second GP

officer in the distance.

The policeman pointed his cone of light at the opposite

tunnel. Meanwhile, the two men were scared to death and

crouched in the brackish water, that flowed beneath them.

The policeman was only about fifty meters away from them

and mumbled something into his radio.

. . Let's disappear from this hole! ", hissed Frank quietly.

„But carefully. . . ", whispered Alf and tried to turn around

noiselessly, while the cop babbled with the other one.

Frank and Alfred prepared for a quiet retreat to another

sewer corridor. They carefully crept away, but Frank

suddenly slid on the wet ground and slipped into the dirty

trickle. A quiet „Plop! " resounded out of the sewer, which

still increased the noise.

Now the two men were gripped by fear and tried to escape

from the danger zone as fast as possible. The head of the

policeman turned around and his flashlight with him. A light

cone immediately jumped towards the tunnel like a furious

lion, but there was nobody anymore.

Frank and Alf were already on the run to the next reservoir

room and the cop only heard quiet steps and the lapping of

water. A ray of light bored itself into the dark tunnel and

illuminated its forepart.

„ls there somebody? ", shouted the policeman into the black

hole. „Hey, give me a sign! ", he added.

Then he went back to another place. His radio croaked and

he tried to give an answer in English.

"I thought, I have heard something. But I think it was only a

rat! ", he said.



169



In the meantime, Kohlhaas and Baumer had reached

another sewer corridor and the cop made no move to follow

them through the ugly passage.

"Don't know! Shit! ", Frank heard him curse quietly.

He finally walked to another area of the sewer system. Both

assassins breathed again. Totally unprepared, they had

been surprised by that man. This cop had almost seen

them. Both still waited for another hour in the protection of

the smelly darkness, until no more voices could be heard in

the distance. On the way back to the closed metro tunnel

they did not encounter any other policemen. Nevertheless,

their nerves were still raw.

These GP's, who had been recruited in many different

countries, just like the GCF occupation troops, obviously

had no bigger references to the French culture. However,

their interest to explore the famous historic sewer system of

Paris was limited.

They just did their job and examined the direct area below

the square in front of the "Temple of Tolerance", that was

all. Policemen, who solely made "their job", just arrived at

the right moment in the eyes of Frank and Alfred.

When they came back to the metro tunnel, everything was

still at its place. Also the NDC-23 - which should have its

great performance in about two to three hours.



170



Bomb-happy. . .



While Frank and Alf were waiting for the attack in their
hiding place, and the minutes passed in a state of
nervousness and tension, Paris resembled an anthill at the
surface. The opening speech of Leon-Jack Wechsler,
governor of the administrative sector . . Central Europe",
should start at 13. 00 o'clock. The streets of the metropolis
were already now, around 11,00 o'clock, perfectly
overcrowded.

Huge masses of people, roughly about two millions,
clustered towards the "Avenue of Humanity" and it came to
the first clashes between the visitors of the event and the
police in the early morning hours.

In the gray of dawn, bloody riots had broken out with
numerous casualties and many deads. In many parts of the
metropolis the violence still ruled the streets, particularly in
the Arabic ghettos.

Over 40 GP-Policemen and hundreds of Arabs had already
been killed. Last night, French patriots had fixed some
enormous transparencies with slogans like . . France is the
country of the Frenchmen! " or . . Freedom for France! Down
with the World Government! " at several big buildings in the
inner city.

Some activists had been caught by the police, three young
Frenchmen had even been shot. In the north of Paris, young
Arabs had tried to penetrate into some suburbs, which were
inhabited by Frenchmen. Here they had burned cars or had
broken into houses. Finally they had encountered some
armed Frenchmen and the police. Over 200 people had
been killed in that street fight. An illegal demonstration of
the "Islamic Federation" in the opposite part of the former



171



capital of France against the policy of the World

Government in the Middle East, had likewise ended with

violent outbursts. Over thirty thousand Muslims had come

together to protest and could only be dispersed by the

security forces, after they had attacked the crowd with

tanks.

Hugo and Baptiste, the Frenchmen, who had visited the

meeting in Ivas at that time, were already active in the

boiling metropolis since weeks.

Their political group had distributed tens of thousands of

illegal leaflets in the whole city, in which they called up the

population to resist the foreign rulers and to fight against the

World Government. Some activists who had been caught by

the police, were never seen again.

Furthermore, they let countless little pieces of paper with

rebellious calls rain down on the shopping streets, from the

roofs of some multistory buildings.

They had uploaded a lot of forbidden webpages on the

Internet and had even established a secret radio channel

which daily sent informations. Apart from this, the freedom

fighters had sprayed some oppositional slogans on the

entrance door of the "Temple of Tolerance". The police and

the GSA were still investigating feverishly. When the police

had located the secret radio station in the end, most of the

French acivists had made it to esape them.

This form of resistance was also not less dangerous than a

bombing because prison or even death was waiting for

people who were classified by the GSA as "incurable

politically incorrect".

Therefore, not only Frank and Alfred risked their lifes down

in the tunnel system below the city, in the battle against the

global dictatorship. Even at the surface, many Frenchmen,

above all the young people, stretched their heads that far

out of the swamp of anxiety and anonymity that the police



172



could cut them off. This so called "festival" would become
bloody. Even without a bomb strike. After the opening
speech, the people would only see on video, the military
parades of the GCF troops would begin. Moreover, masses
of journalists infested the city like a swarm of grasshoppers
and were eager to spread the ideology of the New World
Order. A happy world full of peace and harmony, wearing a
long cloak - made of lies.

As the „One-World-Song" resounded out of the
loudspeakers that had been situated everywhere along the
"Avenue of Humanity", only a small part of the giant crowd
sang along. This was disappoiting for the GSA agents who
meticulously filmed the people.

Sometimes, even bottles and stones were thrown in the
direction of the loudspeakers and screens which showed no
pictures yet. Here, the GP officials took drastic measures
and pulled every molester out of the crowd. Who was
caught disappeared in a police vehicle.
So many of the two million spectators were already upset,
although the festival had not been opened by Wechsler so
far. Apart from that, many Parisians also just holed up in
their houses, hoping that this day would pass as quickly as
possible. In spite of the publicity campaign of the media
which stylized the "Festival of the New World" to a new
climax of human development.

The population of the sector . . Central Europe" had been
forced to pay still higher tributes and taxes in the last
months and the social misery was growing more and more.
Therefore, the people had not very much of this . . Festival of
the New World", and all the propaganda around it. The
racial tensions also continued to extend. If one drove
through some parts of Paris, it seemed that France was
close to civil war. But all this was a part of the policy of the
new rulers, a small piece of their worldwide opus of decay.



173



The screaming crowd above their heads could easily be

heard, down in the canalization. It roared and yelled and

sang and stamped. Frank and Alfred seemed to become

only more nervous, because of this din. Time was running

out fast, and soon the critical moment would come. The

governor was on his way to the inner city of Paris. Now it

was vital to pay attention. All or nothing!

„Whafs the time, Baumer? ", asked Frank with an uncertain

flickering in his eyes, while the „One-World-Song" was sung

above him.

„Three minutes past twelve. Still about an hour. . . ", answered

Alf and extinguished the campfire.

„Okay, let's go! ", said Kohlhaas, nervously fumbling on his

cap.

They checked their equipment again and Frank stroked the

explosive in the blue bags.

„For you father, for you sister!
", he silently murmured and

stared into the dark tunnel.

Both took their heavy luggage and loaded their weapons.

Then they went to the hole to enter the canalization. Each

step was arduous now and was accompanied by a wildly

pounding heart. The palms of the two men filled with tiny

rills of sweat, while the ubiquitous darkness stared at them

still more malicious than ever before.

Their flashlights shone the way and they moved through the

sewer corridors like creeping cats on the hunt. The larger

halls were empty now.

All attention, probably even those of the workers of the

public utilities, was given to the enormous spectacle at the

surface. What Frank and Alfred did not know was that all

employees of the city of Paris were allowed to stay away

from work if they visited the ceremonies. Both rebels walked

forward through the tunnels on quiet soles. They had soon

reached the passage, where that GP policeman had nearly



174



found them. Their hearts pounded like crazy steam

hammers and Frank believed to be able to hear the echo of

his pulse in the tunnel.

"At 13. 00 o'clock, Wechsler will start his speech. When it

begins, I put the time fuse of the bomb on ten minutes. This

should be enough, to get our asses out of the danger

zone! ", explained Alf.

"Okay! ", said Frank who could hardly bear the tension.

Baumer carefully prepared the bomb and Frank just

watched him.

Meanwhile, the black limousine of the governor had stopped

in front of the "Temple of Tolerance" and a finely clothed

chauffeur opened the door. A swarm of policemen

immediately sourrounded the big, flashy vehicle. Shortly

afterwards, a black varnish shoe appeared beneath the car

door. Then the elegant rest followed. Leon-Jack Wechsler

had arrived.

Yesterday he had still been in London and had delivered a

speech in front of the members of the Grand Lodge, what

belonged to his tasks as its second Grand Master.

Now he was in Paris, in order to open the "Festival of the

New World" solemnly. London, the best supervised city on

the planet, except for New York and Washington, was

Wechslefs adoptive home. Here, his ancestors had already

made lucrative bank businesses. Then a part of his family

had emigrated to Chicago and in the end he had come back

to the former capital of England.

The governor smiled and shook the hands of some

subordinated dignitaries. These bowed to the dark-haired

man with the noticeable round glasses. The politician was

fortyish and had already made a great career. Originally

coming from the bank business, he had also been active in

numerous media concerns and energy companies.

Wechsler was a powerful man and loyal to his education, he



175



despised values like honesty or scruple. If it was necessary,
also lie and deceitfulness did it, because only the aim was
important and its name was "might".

The polititian combed his hair once again and looked
around with cunning eyes. The crowd was far away from
him and he had no reference to those people and he also
did not want that. He did, what had to be done, and said,
what had to be said, so that the new order could live. The
plan to create this new world, had been prepared long
beforehand, and it tolerated no deviations or delays.
Leon-Jack Wechsler was a cogwheel in this cruel machine,
but he was an important cogwheel. The politician knew that,
and everyone who knew him, knew that too. And his
servants did well not to annoy him.

The clock was ticking and would never stop. As the great
wheel of history always revolved - overrunning those who
were not able to follow the time.

It was 12. 58 o'clock on this historical day, which celebrated
the New World Order. Governor Leon-Jack Wechsler
grinned like a Pharisee and slowly walked up the stairs to
the speaker's desk. Numerous security men encircled the
stage. Most of them just looked disinterestedly around.
They seemed to suspect nothing evil.
All these security men were just too many and were to well
armed that someone seriously would have ventured to
attack them. Tanks, regiments of GP policemen, GCF
soldiers and still more best equipped Riot Control Squads
had been congregated here, to force the people to love this
new world. Moreover, the dreaded Skydragons were lurking
in the sky, and they were always able to smash the masses
like a hammer. It was suicide to challenge this power.
Leon-Jack Wechsler stroked his black business suit again,
looking at the spectators in the distance. Many of them
probably hated him deep inside, but this was rather amusing



176



than dangerous, from his point of view. The "herd of
animals", as he and his Fellows called the rest of mankind,
would remain impotent and enslaved forever.

"I welcome you! People of our One-World!

I am so endlessly happy, to be allowed, to welcome you
here today. So many people have come to our beautiful
Paris. We have invited you to this "Festival of the New
World", to a great celebration of humanitarianism! And all of
you have come, full of joy and expectation! "

The crowd made some noise and Wechsler looked at the
herd with a cynical smile. . .



177



Red Moon



The voice of the governor echoed in the depths of the
canalization. Frank and Alf jumped out of their hiding place
in the shadows like predators, placing the bomb at the
previously selected position. Above them, they heard the
murmur of the crowd which listened to Wechslefs speech.
Alf adjusted the time fuse and when a faint "beep" sounded,
it was like the starting shot to a sprint for the two rebels.
"The band begins to play! ", said Alf and nodded at Frank.
The clock of death had been put on and was ticking its
vicious song until the bloody finale. Frank Kohlhaas and
Alfred Baumer ran like fleeing rabbits into the tunnel from
which they had come. In ten minutes, the NDC-23, this
deadly explosive, would tear a huge hole into the ground in
front of the "Temple of Tolerance".

The way back appeared hostile and doubts grew in the
brains of the two men. Would their plan really be
successful?

They scurried through the fetid sewer corridors and the
rooms with the reservoirs, with the cones of light in front of
them. Meanwhile, the dark path through the underworld had
burned itself into their minds and both men rushed forward,
as if they were hounded by a demon. Above them, fate took
its course and the Red Moon, the bloody moon, looked
down at the "Avenue of Humanity" with a grim face. . .

"Humaneness! What is the sense of this magnificent word? ",
called Wechsler into the microphone. "It means
benevolence! The uppermost principle of our new world.
Equality, freedom and benevolence for everyone! We have
brought it to the people. A better world under the sign of



178



peace. And this is the reason, why we may celebrate today.

It has been successful - the attempt, to make this world a

better place. When I became governor of the sector "Central

Europe", there was always only one slogan for me: We can

do it!

Of course, it was not always easy to give the people these

holy ideals, but today we are united and happy. We love

each other and we are free!

And whom do we have to owe that? Our faith in the power

of huma. . .

BOOM! ! !

A loud blast cut off Wechslefs next word and tore the lies

out of his throat. It was like the ground had opened to drag

the devil himself down to hell. The explosion was

devastating and ripped a large hole into the square in front

of the "Temple of Tolerance".

The forefront of the building was torn up by the shock wave

like a piece of paper. Several dozens of security men and

politicians were torn to pieces, among them also Leon-Jack

Wechsler. Asphalt pieces, concrete, splinters of wood and

body parts rained down.

Where the governor had spoken a few seconds ago, a

smoking abyss had been torn into the ground. Mangled

corpses and wreckage covered the place.

Frank and Alf ran still faster. The deafening blast of the

explosion had shaken the tunnel system of Paris to the last

corner. For both men, it was the second starting shot and

they were close to loose their nerves.

"Victory! I can't believe it! We have really done it! ", gasped

Frank and sped forward. He had almost slipped to the

ground, but Alf could still hold him. "Run! "



179



The people were quiet for a short moment, when they

perceived the end of the governor on the video screens.

Policemen and soldiers were shocked and looked around,

full of horror and confusion.

A swarm of journalists and cameramen, that had stood in

front of the stage had also been shredded by the explosion.

Some had immediately been dead, others had been hurled

away several meters and were lying on the ground, with torn

limbs, screaming and bleeding.

Their colleagues who were filming the event from the

distance, suddenly pointed their cameras at the bloody

scenario. The terror had come over the square in front of

the "Temple of the Tolerance", paralyzing the gawking

crowd for a while.

Nevertheless, the brains of the people slowly processed the

new situation and, above all, the security forces tried to

react quickly on the unexpected bomb strike. Radiograms

reached the policemen and soldiers, hastily and nervously

yelled commands and orders. Some officers were sent to

the canalization to look what had happened.

Shortly afterwards, a dozen men climbed into the hole.

Others were called to the nearby gully covers. The fact that

so many manhole covers around the square had been weld

shut by the policemen, made them problems now. They all

had to be levered up, what caused a long delay.

After a while, some of the officers entered the tangle of

sewer corridors and tried to find suspicious persons. Their

calls and the sound of their heavy boots echoed through the

tunnels.

The two bombers were already far away now and passed
the dug hole, which led to the abandoned metro tunnel.
Despite the red signs on the walls, they selected the wrong
corridor and lost a few minutes of precious time. Dozens of



180



police officers already followed them, but they were still far
away. The panicky rebels cursed and became even more
nervous now.

"I. . . I just pushed over the edge! Sorry, Alf! That was the
wrong way! ", said Frank, gasping for breath and sweating.
"Yes, all right. I had sprayed these crosses on the walls,
exactly for that fucking reason, man! ", hissed Alf and waved
his friend nearer.

They found one of Alf s marks and Kohlhaas opened the
digital map on his DS-Stick with nervous fingers: "The first
storage room we had found is not far! "
They crept forward to the exit, while the inner tension slowly
became unbearable. But this they were on the right way.
Nevertheless, they still had to traverse a lot of long and dark
sewer corridors. They cautiously crept in the direction of the
storage room with the basin - it had to be at the end of this
passage. Both men just used one single flashlight now, to
cause not too much light. Frank did not dare to think, what
would happen if suddenly some policemen would stand in
front of them.

The two rebels silently scurried forward. Now they could see
a strange blaze at the end of the dirty sewer corridor. They
paused and tried to recognize something. Frank caught his
breath.

Someone had turned on one of the old lamps in the room
with the basins. The usual darkness which had always
protected them had vanished now. With careful movements,
they stalked through the tunnel. Frank crept to the end of
the sewer corridor and cowered there. Then he peered
around the corner. There was nobody. The room seemed to
be empty. A moment after, the young rebel turned around to
Alf and waved him nearer. "We have to pass this room!
Then we can hide again in the narrow tunnels", whispered
Frank and felt out his gun.



181



"But who has turned on that light? ", hissed Alf nervously.

"Damn! You ask the wrong person! Come on now! ", said

Kohlhaas.

They crawled forward and entered the daunting room.

Behind the pool edge of the water basin, they crept into the

dimness. Suddenly the heard voices and the patter of steps

with heavy boots. Frank coughed into his breathing mask

which was meanwhile wet and dirty. His heart seemed to

explode. Alf stared at him with an appalled face and

swallowed quietly.

"Come on! Here! ", it resounded out of a sewer tunnel. The

light cones of two flashlights danced forth out of the dark

hole.

"Maybe here is someone! ", they heard, while the steps

came nearer.

Frank tried to calm himself, in these seconds of highest

tension.

"If we shoot them, we will just make a lot of noise. That

would attract only more of them", he whispered and Alf

regarded him with fear in his eyes.

"We are fucked up, my friend! ", said Baumer with an almost

whining undertone.

"Into the basin! Come on! ", hissed Frank and climbed quietly

over the pool edge. Alfred followed him without saying a

word. Like two otters, they smoothed into the repulsive pond

that seemed to be deep enough to hide. Kohlhaas touched

his combat knife and Alf desperatly looked in his direction.

The steps were now in close proximity and both rebels took

a deep breath full of stench. Then they disappeared into the

brackish water.