Burning cars and houses,
firing tanks and policemen, ruled the street picture in many
parts of the furious metropolis for days.
firing tanks and policemen, ruled the street picture in many
parts of the furious metropolis for days.
Orwell - 1984
The rucksack on Frank's back
which had been freed of its deadly cargo bugged him now,
because it hampered his movements. Kohlhaas felt like a
crocodile that had waited for the gazelle all day long. And
the gazelle had come to the border of his realm to drink. He
pushed himself off the floor of the basin and jumped up to
the pool edge.
The sudden sound of splattering water behind him let the
policeman turn around with surprise. The officer tried to
release the safety catch of his machine gun, but Frank was
faster.
Kohlhaas rammed his knife deeply into the cop's neck and
jumped on the ground beside the water basin. His opponent
gasped for breath and stumbled back in confusion.
Frank grabbed the man and pressed his hand on the
officer's mouth, so that he could not make too much noise.
Meanwhile, Alf had also climbed out of the basin and held
his combat knife nervously in his hand.
"Unnnghh! " The injured policeman lurched and Frank
rammed his blade again into the neck of his enemy, while
he pulled the man to the ground. The cop still fidgeted and
tried to shake off his attacker. Suddenly Baumer came from
the front and knifed the officer too.
The policeman finally collapsed and gave up his resistance.
Both men pulled his heavy body some meters away and let
him lie in a corner. Then they heard the voice of the other
cop who called again something out of a sewer tunnel and
seemed to return. Frank and Alf rebels had to disappear
now, as fast as possible, before he would find his dead
colleague.
For their luck, the way out of this room had remained in their
minds, although they still were totally confused. They ran
into a dark tunnel and made off. Some minutes later they
184
heard a loud scream behind them. Probably the other
policeman had now realized that the room with the water
basin had not been empty. The two men ran and ran and
finally reached the exit. As fast as they could, they left the
canalization behind them. Wet, smelly and blood-smeared,
they crept to the surface. Frank and Alf hastily put on their
jackets to hide the conspicuous bloodstains on their clothes.
The two bombers breathed again and enjoyed a fresh
breeze of air. They just could not believe it! They had made
that bombing and the police did not catch them - so far.
Now they only had to reach their car to escape from the
metropolis, which slowly fell into chaos.
Shortly afterwards, the two assassins hastened through the
streets. They were hardly regarded, because around them
Paris became a huge boiler full of rage and confusion.
Groups of people had gathered everywhere, men and
women ran across the streets, cars honked and they heard
the voice of an excited newscaster out of the window of a
house. The bombing had shocked the whole city - just as
they had planned it.
Frank and Alf fastly ran forward and nobody paid attention
to them. After a while they had reached the side street, in
which they had parked their car. It had not been stolen or
broken up in the time of their absence - and this was not
self-evident in these days.
They finally exchanged their filthy and dirty clothes with
some new dresses that had still been in the trunk. Frank
threw the dirty clothes into a garbage can, started the
engine and drove away. It trip lasted, because many streets
were closed off or were clogged with people. It was nerve-
racking, but finally they reached one of the streets which led
them out of the boiling city.
185
Paris slowly disappeared behind them, Frank and Alf
pausend for breath. Steffen de Vries had already landed in
Compiegne at the arranged meeting place and was
nervously waiting for their arrival. While time passed, the
Belgian felt more and more uncomfortable. But Kohlhaas
and Baumer finally reached the small village near
Compiegne. Now they could return to Ivas. Before the take-
off, they freed their hire car of its vehicle number and
burned it in the forest, hidden from any curious views.
The car was totally destroyed and no one would ever be
able to identify the wreck. When they welcomed the Belgian,
he was more than impressed with their success, and he was
also more than relieved at the same time.
Steffen de Vries shook their hands and was absolutely
amazed. The radio had already informed him about the
situation in Paris since the bombing. Perfectly exhausted,
Frank and Alf climbed into the airplane. Shortly afterwards,
they left "Central Europe".
In the former capital of France, the situation had meanwhile
become dramatically acute. After the crowd had seen the
end of the governor on the numerous video screens, a
strange and confusing silence had ruled the "Avenue of
Humanity" for several minutes. Many people had not been
able to handle with the unforeseen event.
The security forces admonished the crowd to remain quiet,
while tanks threateningly rolled out of the side streets
towards the cooking human pulp. After a while, one heard
the first spectators approvingly yelling and clapping their
hands. The crowd was moved by a tumultuous unrest and
more and more people started to laugh and shout.
"Thank God! That pig is dead! ", screamed a group of men
somewhere in the giant throng. In that moment, the
186
shouters ignored the fact that they were all filmed by GSA
agents.
"This would also be the right end for the World President! ",
yelled another man at the top of his lungs.
Then still more people began to shout things like this. Some
young men stamped their feet and sang the forbidden
national anthem of old France. Many of the persons
standing around them joined the singing, although a lot of
people no longer knew the correct text, because the song
had been forbidden by the new rulers.
"Freedom for France! Down with the World Government! "
A choir came from the rear part of the crowd and the shouts
were carried by more and more people. Hundreds joined the
furious screaming and soon the "Avenue of Humanity"
quaked under the roar of countless Parisians. It was a
strange picture, this huge crowd, clogging the streets and
slowly getting out of control.
The faces of many people were lined with pain. Millions of
Parisians lived a life full of sorrow, poverty and perpetual
insecurity. Therefore, it was no wonder that the displeasure
had grown inside them in the last years.
Meanwhile, a big part of the population of Paris consisted of
badly paid workers and peons. The salaries were usually
that small that one just did not starve and was able to pay
the high rents for the shabby dwellings.
Many of the people here knew the gnaw feeling of an empty
stomach. The food prices and the fees for electricity,
heating and water had steadily been raised since 2018.
Hundreds of thousands of inhabitants of the city had already
fallen through the welfare net and had become street
people. Sometimes, they just froze to death in the winters.
This was the sad truth about the "new world". There was
also no longer a social welfare system, because the World
187
Government had abolished it as a result of the high public
debt. All this was a good hotbed for a revolt. But even now,
many people did not dare to protest. They were still
intimidated and tried to hide somewhere among the others.
They frightenedly looked at the surveillance cameras that
were situated everywhere. Some of them even sneaked
away from the avenue and went to the side streets. So the
crowd broke up into a submissive and a rebellious part in
the following hours.
Nevertheless, it was astonishing, how many citizens
suddenly had the courage to raise their voices. The
anonymity of the crowd seemed to fill them with bravery.
"Freedom for France! Down with the World Government! "
"Freedom for France! Down with the World Government! "
"Freedom for France! Down with the World Government! "
The choir of desperate protest increased and became
gradually louder. Somewhere in the crowd, Frenchmen and
immigrants started to attack each other. The Moslems
screamed their own slogans, refering to Islam, which were
also hostile against the World Goverment. In the middle of
the mass began a riot. The angry people assaulted each
other with bottles, knifes and clubs. Even some shots could
be heard.
Policemen and GCF soldiers, who had meanwhile encircled
the crowd, flanked by tanks, threatened by loudspeakers to
immediately stop the antigovernmental shouts. But crowds
have their own dynamics. So is the single man mostly
cowardly and obsequious, but as a part of a mass he
sometimes becomes a hero.
The orders of the officers were ignored, and after a short
time, policemen, soldiers, GSA observers and the crowd
opposed each other like two warring armies.
188
Now the GP-squadleaders yelled the order to "catch
seditious people in the crowd" into their radios and groups
of officers with heavy body armor clubbed their way through
the mob to get all those, who had been idenitfied by the
GSA agents. Finally, the situation escalated more and more.
The policemen were welcomed with bottles, cobblestones or
even bare fists, while they uncontrollably beat everyone
down who stood in their way. Nevertheless, the screaming
of the mass became louder, despite their brutality.
Yes, the more people were cut down by the clubs of the
cops, the more people joined the chorus of protest at other
places in the giant sea of humans.
On 03. 01. 2029 at 18. 00 o'clock, the first Molotov cocktails
towrads policemen and tanks in a side street of the "Avenue
of Humanity". The GP's immediately returned fire and
riddled the attackers with bullets.
In return, some Parisians armed themselves with clubs,
knifes, axes and even guns. Now the violence expanded
like a plague, seizing thousands of people along the
"Avenue of Humanity".
The warnings, the police officers were shouting, were not
noticed anymore by the raging crowd and the mass
answered with the old French national anthem.
The forbidden song became a surging wave of emotions
and shook the mass from one end to the other. The old
ground of the boulevard trembled under the loud sound of
the outlawed hymn. Something, the former capital of France
had not seen since decades.
The tanks finally came closer and the GCF soldiers and
policemen took positions. It lasted only a few minutes until
the GCF commander gave the order to shoot the people
down. The bloodbath started.
189
While the mass was singing the strictly forbidden old hymn
in perfect harmony, and a surprising great number of people
could still remember the text, the first gunshots resounded
over the avenue.
"Tac! Tac! Tac! Tac! "
The noise of gunfire increased and hundreds of men and
women broke down. Then a terrible hail of bullets swept
through the front ranks behind the barriers - all the
policemen and soldiers began to fire now. The tanks moved
forward and pointed their heavy machine guns at the
numerous targets.
"Tac! Tac! Tac! Tac! ", it echoed over the avenue which was
allegedly dedicated to humanity. The salvos of assault rifles
cut hundreds of people down like a huge scythe. Finally the
crowd fell into panic. The old French national anthem lapsed
inot silence and was exchanged with the terrified cries of the
people.
The soldiers and policemen could hardly miss their
countless targets and they did their job, following the orders
of their commanders and were killing without mercy.
Most of them were no Frenchmen, and if they were attacked
by this crowd in this foreign land, they just had to put down
the uprising. And they did it. Hundreds of corpses covered
the "Avenue of Humanity" after only a few minutes.
The security forces marched forward in a closed firing line
and shot their way through the sea of men, women and
children. In particular, the heavy full metal jacket bullets of
the tank guns were devastating. Soon the screaming crowd
fled in all directions. Fences were ripped down, cars were
overturned and the Parisians trampled each other to death.
Behind them, the soldiers and policeman marched over
countless dead bodies like a slowly moving wall of death.
Then the security forces got a new command. The unruly,
but unarmed crowd, had been driven back by them and
190
looked like the giant Persian army at the battle of
Gaugamela which had been defeated by the phalanx of
Alexander the Great. The policemen, soldiers and tanks
stopped.
"The Skydragons are coming! Stop! ", shouted one of the
squad leaders into his radio and wiped off the sweat from
his brow. The killing work had been exhausting.
Orders were given and the dreaded helicopters, coming
from a nearby military base in the west of Paris, came from
the sky. Shortly afterwards, the pilots of the Skydragons
saw nothing but a swarm of frightened ants, fleeing through
the streets.
Finally, the helicopters reduced their altitude and made their
gatling machine guns and their grenade launchers ready to
fire.
"Okay! We just wait for your orders! ", said the commander
of the Skydragon squadron to his higher officer.
"What are you waiting for? Fire! ", screamed the superior.
The pilot of the helicopter hesitated for some seconds, as if
he would think about that, what he should do now. In the
end, he simply said to himself that this was his "job" which
had to be done.
He was from Uzbekistan, with Russian ancestors, and his
name was Alexander. Meanhwile, the young man was a
soldier of the GFC since three years, and this was the first
time he had got the order to kill unarmed civilians.
Alexander tried to ignore it.
"If I wouldn't do it, another man would. . . ", he excused his
acting in front of himself.
Nevertheless, the payment for GCF soldiers was good -
and he had to feed a wife and three children. Apart from
that, every job had its dark sides. This was just the way of
the world. Now the automated target aquisition showed him
a great number of people. He stopped thinking and started
191
to fire. It became a massacre. The heavy bullets of the
Skydragons smashed flesh and bones. Countless hit people
collapsed below the helicopters, screaming, crying, dying,
tumbling on the asphalt. Skulls were shredded and bodies
were mangled by this murderous blaze of gunfire. The
slaughter almost lasted one hour.
There was no escape for those who were caught by the
automated target aquisiation. Where the Skydragons had
raged, a cruel picture remained. Innumerable bodies were
covering the blood-soaked streets of Paris.
Alexander, the family father, recognized a man in the corner
of his eye. His head was torn, while he still tried to creep
forward, pulling a bloody trace over the street. It was
horrible. The Russian was shaken by doubts again, but he
finally suppressed them. It had to be done, it was an order,
and his only choice was to kill. Then he kept on shooting at
the ants, down there on the ground.
While policemen, soldiers and tanks were called to other
parts of Paris, in order to eliminate insurgents, the day came
to an end.
But the riots still lasted for two further weeks. Many
discontented Parisians attacked the local police stations in
their districts or assaulted local politicians. The head
administrator of Paris, Richard de la Croix, was shot in the
open street by an unknown man.
Burning cars and houses,
firing tanks and policemen, ruled the street picture in many
parts of the furious metropolis for days.
But in the end the order was restored. This time, the Lodge
Brothers who frequently used the lie as a their weapon, had
consulted its brother: the terror. And he was successful.
Even the bravest man was powerless against the unlimited
inconsiderateness of the security forces in the long term.
About 40000 people died in the riots and street fights on
01. 03. 2029, and in the following weeks. Moreover, several
192
hundred policemen and GCF soldiers were killed. Paris had
been drowned in blood. Now it was over. . .
193
With him
It was already late. Mr. Morris, 56 years old and one of the
secretaries of the World President, had to hurry. This
appointment was extremely important. His taxi had
struggled through the jammed streets, from the airport of
New York to the inner city. However, time really pressed
now. Mr. Morris scurried through the big entrance door of a
gigantic skyscraper and ran to the lift. The beheld his watch
and became nervous. But in the end he reached the 33.
floor of the building just in time. . .
"Come in, Mr. Morris! ", called somebody out of a luxurious
office room on the uppermost floor of the skyscraper.
"Good afternoon, Mr. World President! ", said the man with
the gray temples and the just as gray suit, smiling unsteadily
and submissively. His interlocutor stared out the window
down at the streets of the New York and did not turn
around.
"I have the newest internal messages from Paris. . . ", said
Morris excitedly.
"Aha! ", returned the World President.
"Yes, the situation has become acute, as the GSA men
have told me! ", gasped the older gentleman, totally
exhausted.
"Really? ", asked his boss.
"Yes, Mr. World President! Confidential studies. . . ",
explained Morris, but he was interrupted.
"Where is your place in our great organization, Mr. Morris? ",
interrogated the World President and still stared at the
hectic tangle of cars and people between the bulky bank
houses of New York's inner city.
194
"I beg your pardon, Sir! ", replied the confused secretary, still
standing beside the door.
"Which lodge, Mr. Morris? ", clarified the president.
„Eh! I'm a fellow of the "Sons of the Mountain", Sir! The
lodge is called "Sons of the Mountain". . . San Francisco, Mr.
World President! ", stammered Morris baffledly.
"Grade? ", muttered the man in front of the window.
"Eh, I'm in the 4th grade, Sir! That's all I have achieved until
now, Sir! ", stuttered the secretary.
"Well, perhaps that is enough for you, Mr. Morris! "
"I wanted to talk about Paris. . . ", said the servant, but he was
interrupted again.
"Sons of the Mountain"? One of my nephews is also there! ",
whispered the World President.
His secretary tried to direct the conversatrion on the
incidents in Paris, but the World President just groaned and
ordered him to stop talking about these things.
"Listen, Mr. Morris! I know what has happened in Paris, and
I give a shit on it! ", he said quietly. "Not even a damn fart!
Do you think that the "great revolution" will break loose
against us now, Mr. Morris! "
The World President seemed to be almost amused. "Leon-
Jack Wechsler is dead. I have already determined his
successor this morning. And now, I don't want to talk about
this unimportant and boring kids' stuff anymore! "
"But the terrorists have. . . ", Morris tried to explain with an
unsteady voice.
The World President seemed not to hear him. He still looked
impassively out of the huge window of his luxury office:
"Bring me a glass of orange juice, Mr. Morris, and place it
on the desk! "
"Yes, Sir! ", stammered his secretary and left the room. After
a few minutes he returned and put a glass of orange juice
on the table.
195
"Thanks! ", said the chairman of the international community,
but he did not turn around. "Do you think that we would be
there where we are, if things like that uninteresting fuss in
Paris had ever impressed us just one time? ", he added
coldheartedly.
"Yes, I don't know. . . ", Morris became more and more
uncertain.
"We are the rulers of this world for two reasons. First,
because we have servants like you, Mr. Morris. Second,
because the old and great plan to conquer this planet is
perfectly ripe and has no weaknesses or errors. "
The secretary stared at the World President with an
astonished face.
"Mr. Morris, you are, as a member of the lodge of the "Sons
of the Mountain", in your place. I am in my place, as World
President. What has happened in Paris was good. . . ", he
continued.
"What do you mean? ", asked the secretary and was
puzzled.
"Well, now we can tell the masses, how dangerous terrorism
is and that they can only get protected by an increased
surveillance! The media will hammer it into their hollow
heads like a mantra, constantly preach and repeat it, so
often until that herd of animals has understood our
message! ", said the president.
Then he remarked: "Mr. Morris, no one has ever managed it
to stop us. For decades, and centuries, our power has
grown, and it is still growing. We have struck deep roots,
like a cancer that can not be destroyed anymore, because it
has already spread to the last part of the body. We have
brought down kings and have smashed nations if they have
stood in our way. We have perfectly infiltrated this globe and
there is no escape for no one. In 2018, we put the mask
from our face and showed us to the people, but they
196
remained silent and let us eat them. The nations have
behaved like the rabbit in front of the snake. The old writings
have predicted it and so it has happened. The great plan
became reality. And now, we want to bring mankind the
slavery that it deserves. Now our time has come, and we
will rule this planet forever! "
"But perhaps our reaction in Paris was not right? ", said
Morris.
The World President, who made him stand as always and
this time even turned his back to him, harrumphed and
answered, "Not right? Of course it was right! The masses
shall know that we control them. They can hate us but, first,
they must fear us. Their world, the old world, is broken into
pieces and will never return. The new world is our creation.
Yes, we want to show our power openly, as the elders of
our past always intended it. They were forced to spin their
threads secretly. We don't need secrecy any longer,
because we are the rulers of this earth. In our hands is all
the might of the world, and the sign of invincibility is our
banner, the banner of our New World Order. "
"I believe you, Mr. World President! ", said Morris, almost
under his breath.
"No! ", replied his master emphatically, "I know that you do
not mean that, deep inside. But that's quite immaterial.
What you believe has no meaning. The people also believe
much, but it is perfectly irrelevant. They believe in a better
world, in a rescue, in their god! Well, Mr. Morris, if that god
in whom these animals believe would really exist, I would
personally liquidate him! "
The words of this man, for whom he did the most menial
paperwork, visibly intimidated Morris. Liquidate God! Morris
looked around, as if searching for an escape should one
become necessary, but didn't dare to bestir from his place.
"There are only a few who could really become dangerous
197
for us, but they are quiet at present," the World President
continued, "At least, they don't show themselves openly.
But this is nothing for you, Mr. Morris," he said, his contempt
undisguised, "really nothing for you! "
He clasped his hands behind his back, and seemed to lapse
into contemplation. "We are the darkness of the world," he
said. But he was musing to himself now, and Morris did not
catch the words, "We are the darkness of the world,
whoever follows us, will never walk in light again! "
The servant inquired what the master had said, but the
question remained unanswered. Instead, the World
President raised his tone and said, emphatically: "We bring
the yoke of slavery to all nations. Who knows us knows also
that we are the lords of hate, the dark messengers of
destruction, hating the light of other men, always eager to
extinguish it.
We tore down the old world we hated so much - we gnawed
at the roots of civilization, and finally we brought it down.
We hid for a long time under the cloak of lies and distortions
- our greatest art. Our enemies - those fools! - even hailed
us. Childish maggots! Now the time of our triumph is at
hand and who shall deny us our pleasure. "
"I don't know. . . ", Morris stammered, and even scratched his
head to display the necessary confoundedness.
"You don't need to know, my faithful servant. Because
wisdom is reserved only for the wise. Ignorance casts a
shadow in the minds of those like you. That has always
been a strength to us," said the World President, and he
spun around. His dark eyes sparkled at the nervous little
man. He took the glass of orange juice, sipped it and waved
Morris dismissively in the direction of the door. Then he
turned away again.
"Goodbye, Mr. Morris! ", he said flatly, his head nodding
slowly as if in affirmation of some damning, private
198
judgement about this ordinary little man, indeed about all
ordinary men.
"Good bye, Mr. World President! ", answered the gray-haired
man and disappeared. With a certain relief that this
confusing conversation was over, the servant walked down
the long hallway and went to an elevator.
The head of the World Government opened a drawer and
took out a remote control. He turned to the big plasma
screen in the corner of his office and switched on the
television. On one of the news channels was a report about
the events in Paris. The man leaned back and stared at the
TV.
which had been freed of its deadly cargo bugged him now,
because it hampered his movements. Kohlhaas felt like a
crocodile that had waited for the gazelle all day long. And
the gazelle had come to the border of his realm to drink. He
pushed himself off the floor of the basin and jumped up to
the pool edge.
The sudden sound of splattering water behind him let the
policeman turn around with surprise. The officer tried to
release the safety catch of his machine gun, but Frank was
faster.
Kohlhaas rammed his knife deeply into the cop's neck and
jumped on the ground beside the water basin. His opponent
gasped for breath and stumbled back in confusion.
Frank grabbed the man and pressed his hand on the
officer's mouth, so that he could not make too much noise.
Meanwhile, Alf had also climbed out of the basin and held
his combat knife nervously in his hand.
"Unnnghh! " The injured policeman lurched and Frank
rammed his blade again into the neck of his enemy, while
he pulled the man to the ground. The cop still fidgeted and
tried to shake off his attacker. Suddenly Baumer came from
the front and knifed the officer too.
The policeman finally collapsed and gave up his resistance.
Both men pulled his heavy body some meters away and let
him lie in a corner. Then they heard the voice of the other
cop who called again something out of a sewer tunnel and
seemed to return. Frank and Alf rebels had to disappear
now, as fast as possible, before he would find his dead
colleague.
For their luck, the way out of this room had remained in their
minds, although they still were totally confused. They ran
into a dark tunnel and made off. Some minutes later they
184
heard a loud scream behind them. Probably the other
policeman had now realized that the room with the water
basin had not been empty. The two men ran and ran and
finally reached the exit. As fast as they could, they left the
canalization behind them. Wet, smelly and blood-smeared,
they crept to the surface. Frank and Alf hastily put on their
jackets to hide the conspicuous bloodstains on their clothes.
The two bombers breathed again and enjoyed a fresh
breeze of air. They just could not believe it! They had made
that bombing and the police did not catch them - so far.
Now they only had to reach their car to escape from the
metropolis, which slowly fell into chaos.
Shortly afterwards, the two assassins hastened through the
streets. They were hardly regarded, because around them
Paris became a huge boiler full of rage and confusion.
Groups of people had gathered everywhere, men and
women ran across the streets, cars honked and they heard
the voice of an excited newscaster out of the window of a
house. The bombing had shocked the whole city - just as
they had planned it.
Frank and Alf fastly ran forward and nobody paid attention
to them. After a while they had reached the side street, in
which they had parked their car. It had not been stolen or
broken up in the time of their absence - and this was not
self-evident in these days.
They finally exchanged their filthy and dirty clothes with
some new dresses that had still been in the trunk. Frank
threw the dirty clothes into a garbage can, started the
engine and drove away. It trip lasted, because many streets
were closed off or were clogged with people. It was nerve-
racking, but finally they reached one of the streets which led
them out of the boiling city.
185
Paris slowly disappeared behind them, Frank and Alf
pausend for breath. Steffen de Vries had already landed in
Compiegne at the arranged meeting place and was
nervously waiting for their arrival. While time passed, the
Belgian felt more and more uncomfortable. But Kohlhaas
and Baumer finally reached the small village near
Compiegne. Now they could return to Ivas. Before the take-
off, they freed their hire car of its vehicle number and
burned it in the forest, hidden from any curious views.
The car was totally destroyed and no one would ever be
able to identify the wreck. When they welcomed the Belgian,
he was more than impressed with their success, and he was
also more than relieved at the same time.
Steffen de Vries shook their hands and was absolutely
amazed. The radio had already informed him about the
situation in Paris since the bombing. Perfectly exhausted,
Frank and Alf climbed into the airplane. Shortly afterwards,
they left "Central Europe".
In the former capital of France, the situation had meanwhile
become dramatically acute. After the crowd had seen the
end of the governor on the numerous video screens, a
strange and confusing silence had ruled the "Avenue of
Humanity" for several minutes. Many people had not been
able to handle with the unforeseen event.
The security forces admonished the crowd to remain quiet,
while tanks threateningly rolled out of the side streets
towards the cooking human pulp. After a while, one heard
the first spectators approvingly yelling and clapping their
hands. The crowd was moved by a tumultuous unrest and
more and more people started to laugh and shout.
"Thank God! That pig is dead! ", screamed a group of men
somewhere in the giant throng. In that moment, the
186
shouters ignored the fact that they were all filmed by GSA
agents.
"This would also be the right end for the World President! ",
yelled another man at the top of his lungs.
Then still more people began to shout things like this. Some
young men stamped their feet and sang the forbidden
national anthem of old France. Many of the persons
standing around them joined the singing, although a lot of
people no longer knew the correct text, because the song
had been forbidden by the new rulers.
"Freedom for France! Down with the World Government! "
A choir came from the rear part of the crowd and the shouts
were carried by more and more people. Hundreds joined the
furious screaming and soon the "Avenue of Humanity"
quaked under the roar of countless Parisians. It was a
strange picture, this huge crowd, clogging the streets and
slowly getting out of control.
The faces of many people were lined with pain. Millions of
Parisians lived a life full of sorrow, poverty and perpetual
insecurity. Therefore, it was no wonder that the displeasure
had grown inside them in the last years.
Meanwhile, a big part of the population of Paris consisted of
badly paid workers and peons. The salaries were usually
that small that one just did not starve and was able to pay
the high rents for the shabby dwellings.
Many of the people here knew the gnaw feeling of an empty
stomach. The food prices and the fees for electricity,
heating and water had steadily been raised since 2018.
Hundreds of thousands of inhabitants of the city had already
fallen through the welfare net and had become street
people. Sometimes, they just froze to death in the winters.
This was the sad truth about the "new world". There was
also no longer a social welfare system, because the World
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Government had abolished it as a result of the high public
debt. All this was a good hotbed for a revolt. But even now,
many people did not dare to protest. They were still
intimidated and tried to hide somewhere among the others.
They frightenedly looked at the surveillance cameras that
were situated everywhere. Some of them even sneaked
away from the avenue and went to the side streets. So the
crowd broke up into a submissive and a rebellious part in
the following hours.
Nevertheless, it was astonishing, how many citizens
suddenly had the courage to raise their voices. The
anonymity of the crowd seemed to fill them with bravery.
"Freedom for France! Down with the World Government! "
"Freedom for France! Down with the World Government! "
"Freedom for France! Down with the World Government! "
The choir of desperate protest increased and became
gradually louder. Somewhere in the crowd, Frenchmen and
immigrants started to attack each other. The Moslems
screamed their own slogans, refering to Islam, which were
also hostile against the World Goverment. In the middle of
the mass began a riot. The angry people assaulted each
other with bottles, knifes and clubs. Even some shots could
be heard.
Policemen and GCF soldiers, who had meanwhile encircled
the crowd, flanked by tanks, threatened by loudspeakers to
immediately stop the antigovernmental shouts. But crowds
have their own dynamics. So is the single man mostly
cowardly and obsequious, but as a part of a mass he
sometimes becomes a hero.
The orders of the officers were ignored, and after a short
time, policemen, soldiers, GSA observers and the crowd
opposed each other like two warring armies.
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Now the GP-squadleaders yelled the order to "catch
seditious people in the crowd" into their radios and groups
of officers with heavy body armor clubbed their way through
the mob to get all those, who had been idenitfied by the
GSA agents. Finally, the situation escalated more and more.
The policemen were welcomed with bottles, cobblestones or
even bare fists, while they uncontrollably beat everyone
down who stood in their way. Nevertheless, the screaming
of the mass became louder, despite their brutality.
Yes, the more people were cut down by the clubs of the
cops, the more people joined the chorus of protest at other
places in the giant sea of humans.
On 03. 01. 2029 at 18. 00 o'clock, the first Molotov cocktails
towrads policemen and tanks in a side street of the "Avenue
of Humanity". The GP's immediately returned fire and
riddled the attackers with bullets.
In return, some Parisians armed themselves with clubs,
knifes, axes and even guns. Now the violence expanded
like a plague, seizing thousands of people along the
"Avenue of Humanity".
The warnings, the police officers were shouting, were not
noticed anymore by the raging crowd and the mass
answered with the old French national anthem.
The forbidden song became a surging wave of emotions
and shook the mass from one end to the other. The old
ground of the boulevard trembled under the loud sound of
the outlawed hymn. Something, the former capital of France
had not seen since decades.
The tanks finally came closer and the GCF soldiers and
policemen took positions. It lasted only a few minutes until
the GCF commander gave the order to shoot the people
down. The bloodbath started.
189
While the mass was singing the strictly forbidden old hymn
in perfect harmony, and a surprising great number of people
could still remember the text, the first gunshots resounded
over the avenue.
"Tac! Tac! Tac! Tac! "
The noise of gunfire increased and hundreds of men and
women broke down. Then a terrible hail of bullets swept
through the front ranks behind the barriers - all the
policemen and soldiers began to fire now. The tanks moved
forward and pointed their heavy machine guns at the
numerous targets.
"Tac! Tac! Tac! Tac! ", it echoed over the avenue which was
allegedly dedicated to humanity. The salvos of assault rifles
cut hundreds of people down like a huge scythe. Finally the
crowd fell into panic. The old French national anthem lapsed
inot silence and was exchanged with the terrified cries of the
people.
The soldiers and policemen could hardly miss their
countless targets and they did their job, following the orders
of their commanders and were killing without mercy.
Most of them were no Frenchmen, and if they were attacked
by this crowd in this foreign land, they just had to put down
the uprising. And they did it. Hundreds of corpses covered
the "Avenue of Humanity" after only a few minutes.
The security forces marched forward in a closed firing line
and shot their way through the sea of men, women and
children. In particular, the heavy full metal jacket bullets of
the tank guns were devastating. Soon the screaming crowd
fled in all directions. Fences were ripped down, cars were
overturned and the Parisians trampled each other to death.
Behind them, the soldiers and policeman marched over
countless dead bodies like a slowly moving wall of death.
Then the security forces got a new command. The unruly,
but unarmed crowd, had been driven back by them and
190
looked like the giant Persian army at the battle of
Gaugamela which had been defeated by the phalanx of
Alexander the Great. The policemen, soldiers and tanks
stopped.
"The Skydragons are coming! Stop! ", shouted one of the
squad leaders into his radio and wiped off the sweat from
his brow. The killing work had been exhausting.
Orders were given and the dreaded helicopters, coming
from a nearby military base in the west of Paris, came from
the sky. Shortly afterwards, the pilots of the Skydragons
saw nothing but a swarm of frightened ants, fleeing through
the streets.
Finally, the helicopters reduced their altitude and made their
gatling machine guns and their grenade launchers ready to
fire.
"Okay! We just wait for your orders! ", said the commander
of the Skydragon squadron to his higher officer.
"What are you waiting for? Fire! ", screamed the superior.
The pilot of the helicopter hesitated for some seconds, as if
he would think about that, what he should do now. In the
end, he simply said to himself that this was his "job" which
had to be done.
He was from Uzbekistan, with Russian ancestors, and his
name was Alexander. Meanhwile, the young man was a
soldier of the GFC since three years, and this was the first
time he had got the order to kill unarmed civilians.
Alexander tried to ignore it.
"If I wouldn't do it, another man would. . . ", he excused his
acting in front of himself.
Nevertheless, the payment for GCF soldiers was good -
and he had to feed a wife and three children. Apart from
that, every job had its dark sides. This was just the way of
the world. Now the automated target aquisition showed him
a great number of people. He stopped thinking and started
191
to fire. It became a massacre. The heavy bullets of the
Skydragons smashed flesh and bones. Countless hit people
collapsed below the helicopters, screaming, crying, dying,
tumbling on the asphalt. Skulls were shredded and bodies
were mangled by this murderous blaze of gunfire. The
slaughter almost lasted one hour.
There was no escape for those who were caught by the
automated target aquisiation. Where the Skydragons had
raged, a cruel picture remained. Innumerable bodies were
covering the blood-soaked streets of Paris.
Alexander, the family father, recognized a man in the corner
of his eye. His head was torn, while he still tried to creep
forward, pulling a bloody trace over the street. It was
horrible. The Russian was shaken by doubts again, but he
finally suppressed them. It had to be done, it was an order,
and his only choice was to kill. Then he kept on shooting at
the ants, down there on the ground.
While policemen, soldiers and tanks were called to other
parts of Paris, in order to eliminate insurgents, the day came
to an end.
But the riots still lasted for two further weeks. Many
discontented Parisians attacked the local police stations in
their districts or assaulted local politicians. The head
administrator of Paris, Richard de la Croix, was shot in the
open street by an unknown man.
Burning cars and houses,
firing tanks and policemen, ruled the street picture in many
parts of the furious metropolis for days.
But in the end the order was restored. This time, the Lodge
Brothers who frequently used the lie as a their weapon, had
consulted its brother: the terror. And he was successful.
Even the bravest man was powerless against the unlimited
inconsiderateness of the security forces in the long term.
About 40000 people died in the riots and street fights on
01. 03. 2029, and in the following weeks. Moreover, several
192
hundred policemen and GCF soldiers were killed. Paris had
been drowned in blood. Now it was over. . .
193
With him
It was already late. Mr. Morris, 56 years old and one of the
secretaries of the World President, had to hurry. This
appointment was extremely important. His taxi had
struggled through the jammed streets, from the airport of
New York to the inner city. However, time really pressed
now. Mr. Morris scurried through the big entrance door of a
gigantic skyscraper and ran to the lift. The beheld his watch
and became nervous. But in the end he reached the 33.
floor of the building just in time. . .
"Come in, Mr. Morris! ", called somebody out of a luxurious
office room on the uppermost floor of the skyscraper.
"Good afternoon, Mr. World President! ", said the man with
the gray temples and the just as gray suit, smiling unsteadily
and submissively. His interlocutor stared out the window
down at the streets of the New York and did not turn
around.
"I have the newest internal messages from Paris. . . ", said
Morris excitedly.
"Aha! ", returned the World President.
"Yes, the situation has become acute, as the GSA men
have told me! ", gasped the older gentleman, totally
exhausted.
"Really? ", asked his boss.
"Yes, Mr. World President! Confidential studies. . . ",
explained Morris, but he was interrupted.
"Where is your place in our great organization, Mr. Morris? ",
interrogated the World President and still stared at the
hectic tangle of cars and people between the bulky bank
houses of New York's inner city.
194
"I beg your pardon, Sir! ", replied the confused secretary, still
standing beside the door.
"Which lodge, Mr. Morris? ", clarified the president.
„Eh! I'm a fellow of the "Sons of the Mountain", Sir! The
lodge is called "Sons of the Mountain". . . San Francisco, Mr.
World President! ", stammered Morris baffledly.
"Grade? ", muttered the man in front of the window.
"Eh, I'm in the 4th grade, Sir! That's all I have achieved until
now, Sir! ", stuttered the secretary.
"Well, perhaps that is enough for you, Mr. Morris! "
"I wanted to talk about Paris. . . ", said the servant, but he was
interrupted again.
"Sons of the Mountain"? One of my nephews is also there! ",
whispered the World President.
His secretary tried to direct the conversatrion on the
incidents in Paris, but the World President just groaned and
ordered him to stop talking about these things.
"Listen, Mr. Morris! I know what has happened in Paris, and
I give a shit on it! ", he said quietly. "Not even a damn fart!
Do you think that the "great revolution" will break loose
against us now, Mr. Morris! "
The World President seemed to be almost amused. "Leon-
Jack Wechsler is dead. I have already determined his
successor this morning. And now, I don't want to talk about
this unimportant and boring kids' stuff anymore! "
"But the terrorists have. . . ", Morris tried to explain with an
unsteady voice.
The World President seemed not to hear him. He still looked
impassively out of the huge window of his luxury office:
"Bring me a glass of orange juice, Mr. Morris, and place it
on the desk! "
"Yes, Sir! ", stammered his secretary and left the room. After
a few minutes he returned and put a glass of orange juice
on the table.
195
"Thanks! ", said the chairman of the international community,
but he did not turn around. "Do you think that we would be
there where we are, if things like that uninteresting fuss in
Paris had ever impressed us just one time? ", he added
coldheartedly.
"Yes, I don't know. . . ", Morris became more and more
uncertain.
"We are the rulers of this world for two reasons. First,
because we have servants like you, Mr. Morris. Second,
because the old and great plan to conquer this planet is
perfectly ripe and has no weaknesses or errors. "
The secretary stared at the World President with an
astonished face.
"Mr. Morris, you are, as a member of the lodge of the "Sons
of the Mountain", in your place. I am in my place, as World
President. What has happened in Paris was good. . . ", he
continued.
"What do you mean? ", asked the secretary and was
puzzled.
"Well, now we can tell the masses, how dangerous terrorism
is and that they can only get protected by an increased
surveillance! The media will hammer it into their hollow
heads like a mantra, constantly preach and repeat it, so
often until that herd of animals has understood our
message! ", said the president.
Then he remarked: "Mr. Morris, no one has ever managed it
to stop us. For decades, and centuries, our power has
grown, and it is still growing. We have struck deep roots,
like a cancer that can not be destroyed anymore, because it
has already spread to the last part of the body. We have
brought down kings and have smashed nations if they have
stood in our way. We have perfectly infiltrated this globe and
there is no escape for no one. In 2018, we put the mask
from our face and showed us to the people, but they
196
remained silent and let us eat them. The nations have
behaved like the rabbit in front of the snake. The old writings
have predicted it and so it has happened. The great plan
became reality. And now, we want to bring mankind the
slavery that it deserves. Now our time has come, and we
will rule this planet forever! "
"But perhaps our reaction in Paris was not right? ", said
Morris.
The World President, who made him stand as always and
this time even turned his back to him, harrumphed and
answered, "Not right? Of course it was right! The masses
shall know that we control them. They can hate us but, first,
they must fear us. Their world, the old world, is broken into
pieces and will never return. The new world is our creation.
Yes, we want to show our power openly, as the elders of
our past always intended it. They were forced to spin their
threads secretly. We don't need secrecy any longer,
because we are the rulers of this earth. In our hands is all
the might of the world, and the sign of invincibility is our
banner, the banner of our New World Order. "
"I believe you, Mr. World President! ", said Morris, almost
under his breath.
"No! ", replied his master emphatically, "I know that you do
not mean that, deep inside. But that's quite immaterial.
What you believe has no meaning. The people also believe
much, but it is perfectly irrelevant. They believe in a better
world, in a rescue, in their god! Well, Mr. Morris, if that god
in whom these animals believe would really exist, I would
personally liquidate him! "
The words of this man, for whom he did the most menial
paperwork, visibly intimidated Morris. Liquidate God! Morris
looked around, as if searching for an escape should one
become necessary, but didn't dare to bestir from his place.
"There are only a few who could really become dangerous
197
for us, but they are quiet at present," the World President
continued, "At least, they don't show themselves openly.
But this is nothing for you, Mr. Morris," he said, his contempt
undisguised, "really nothing for you! "
He clasped his hands behind his back, and seemed to lapse
into contemplation. "We are the darkness of the world," he
said. But he was musing to himself now, and Morris did not
catch the words, "We are the darkness of the world,
whoever follows us, will never walk in light again! "
The servant inquired what the master had said, but the
question remained unanswered. Instead, the World
President raised his tone and said, emphatically: "We bring
the yoke of slavery to all nations. Who knows us knows also
that we are the lords of hate, the dark messengers of
destruction, hating the light of other men, always eager to
extinguish it.
We tore down the old world we hated so much - we gnawed
at the roots of civilization, and finally we brought it down.
We hid for a long time under the cloak of lies and distortions
- our greatest art. Our enemies - those fools! - even hailed
us. Childish maggots! Now the time of our triumph is at
hand and who shall deny us our pleasure. "
"I don't know. . . ", Morris stammered, and even scratched his
head to display the necessary confoundedness.
"You don't need to know, my faithful servant. Because
wisdom is reserved only for the wise. Ignorance casts a
shadow in the minds of those like you. That has always
been a strength to us," said the World President, and he
spun around. His dark eyes sparkled at the nervous little
man. He took the glass of orange juice, sipped it and waved
Morris dismissively in the direction of the door. Then he
turned away again.
"Goodbye, Mr. Morris! ", he said flatly, his head nodding
slowly as if in affirmation of some damning, private
198
judgement about this ordinary little man, indeed about all
ordinary men.
"Good bye, Mr. World President! ", answered the gray-haired
man and disappeared. With a certain relief that this
confusing conversation was over, the servant walked down
the long hallway and went to an elevator.
The head of the World Government opened a drawer and
took out a remote control. He turned to the big plasma
screen in the corner of his office and switched on the
television. On one of the news channels was a report about
the events in Paris. The man leaned back and stared at the
TV.
