No More Learning

At three o'clock in the morning,
they were finally ready to go. The rebels strapped their
backpacks on, left the hotel room and sneaked over the
dark corridor to the lower floor like two shadows. They
parked the hire car some blocks away in a small side lane
behind an old tenement. Both men would never return to the
hotel after the bombing, and planned to drive from Paris to



160



Compiegne as fast as possible. Their steps on the asphalt
were quiet, while the "Sunflower" slowly became a dark and
small spot behind them. This night was unusually cold, but
fortunately it was not raining. Now they moved with still
more caution than in the night, when they had explored the
canalization. This time, even little mistakes could endanger
everything.

If a police patrol had asked them about the content of their
backpacks, the two rebels would have had more than just a
problem. Apart from that, they had guns and knifes in their
pockets. And even the stupidest cop would not believe
them, that the were nothing but harmless tourists on a
sightseeing tour.

Again they crept from one dark corner to the next, crossing
a lot of empty streets. Their faces were partly hidden behind
broad baseball caps, under which four wary eyes examined
the vicinity, everywhere suspecting enemies or curious
observers. They were like two predators, always ready to
catch their booty.

Some cars drove past them. At the end to the "Rue de
York", when they lurked in the shadow of an empty shop,
they suddenly saw a police car, bending around the corner.
Frank and Alf were shocked, nevertheless, they tried to
saunter inconspicuously about and acted, as if they did not
heed the police car.

The sound of an humming engine became louder and the
tension rose to the extreme. If just a single policeman would
have asked them for their particulars or wanted to look into
their backpacks, then Frank and Alf would have had no
other chance than killing him. And in case of emergency,
also every other witness in sight.

No one had guns and NDC-23 by the kilo, who just wanted
to visit Paris. The police car approached and seemed to
drive more slowly now, but it didn't stop and no cop stepped



161



out. Probably, the driver only wanted to take a brief look at

these two strange guys. But this city was full of people like

this. It was luck for the two bombers, but probably also luck

for the policeman, because they had not hesitated to use

their weapons, if necessary.

„Lucky you! ", whispered Frank quietly.

„Come on! ", said Alf. „We are just good citizens. "

„With some NDC-23 in our backpacks. . . ", Kohlhaas giggled

and seemed to be relieved. Except for some tramps, the

streets of Paris were empty in this part of the city. After a

further short walk through the dark lanes, they had finally

reached the gully cover in front of the abandoned factory,

which Alfred had duly closed again, after they had returned

from the canalization. They entered the underworld again.

But this time it was no more disgusting but otherwise

harmless scouting expedition. This time, it was deadly

serious.

At the very thought of staying in this stinky vault until
noontime of 01. 03. 2029, and even to sleep down here, the
two men shuddered.

What would be, if they suddenly stood in front of some new
grids, which had been repaired in the last days? Or even in
front of some policemen? No, there was no more room for
surprises. They had to keep their eyes open to react on
changes. Now it was the same way again, and rats and
spiders appeared as a greeting committee in the dark
tunnels once more. When they had reached the first larger
room, they examined their equipment, in order to be
prepared for all possible incidents.

Frank absently looked at his knife with the serrated blade,
which John Throphy had organized for him on one of his
trips to Belarus. Then he put it back into the pocket. The red
crosses which Alf had sprayed on some walls, were still



162



there and the two men were glad about this. Also the
destroyed grids had fortunately not been repaired, after their
first walk through the canalization. Frank and Alf decided
not to stay in the direct proximity of the event overnight. If
policemen would scan the passages before the
celebrations, then within this range. They finally chose the
closed metro tunnel, that they could reach through the dug
hole in the wall. The air was much better here and from
somewhere seemed to come a refreshing breeze.
Nevertheless, it was cold, scary and dark there.
„What will be if people walk around here again? ",
whispered Frank.

„One of us must stay awake and keep guard, while the other
one sleeps", answered Alf. „l will begin if you want! "
They searched the pit for some fire wood and found all
kinds of flammable waste after a few minutes. Probably it
were the inheritances of some tramps. Shortly afterwards,
they kindled a small campfire, a tiny place of warmth and
light in that endless, yawning pit. Kohlhaas accepted Alf s
offer, tucked himself up and slept on the uncomfortable
ground beside the rails, after he had put a few dry boards
and an old plastic foil there. However, this night was terrible,
all alone in the darkness of this old tunnel. Frank started to
freeze.

Two hours later, his friend woke him up and asked him to
take over the next night watch. Tired and nervous, Frank
straightened up and sat down at the glowing fire. It lasted
only some minutes, then Alf was sleeping and began to
snore.

That was the only sound in this eerie vault and Kohlhaas
was happy to hear it after a while. The darkness stared at
him from a distance and sometimes he believed to hear a
silent coughing or weeping somewhere, but in this night, the
metro tunnel was empty.



163



It was at 6. 00 o'clock in the morning. Frank and Alfred had
a pitiful breakfast and started with their reconnaissance.
They slunk quietly and slowly forward and still did not see
anybody at this early time. No grids or barricades had been
repaired by any workers or had been placed by the police.
At least, not on the first day in that hole. On 27. 02. 2029, the
two men played card games or spent their time with various
conversations at the campfire in the closed metro tunnel.
Later they explored some new passages and finally
returned to their hiding place. They preferred the old metro
tunnel to the canalization. Not only because of the better air
and the campfire. Apart from the bigger halls with the water
reservoirs, the narrow canals were no places, where they
wanted to stay longer than necessary. The hours seemed to
be endless, down below in the underground of Paris. Again,
a long and uncomfortable night was waiting for them and
Frank decided to be on guard at first, while Alfred tried to
sleep.

Kohlhaas was also very tired and nibbled boredly on some
chips from the supermarket. Meanwhile, the darkness
around him made the young man more nervous than ever
before, and so he decided to look for some more wood for
the campfire. Soon he had discovered another pile of
broads near the tracks. After a while he cowered at the
campfire again - but suddenly he startled up.
Something had shown its head in a dark corner beyond the
pile of firewood. It had been a ghostly, pale child, pressing
its finger to the lips, as if it wanted to remind Frank to be
silent.

„Pssst! ", he thought to have heard. Then the darkness
returned again.

He felt the adrenaline burning in his veins. Kohlhaas hastily
fetched his flashlight to examine the place of the spooky
appearance, but there were only stones and garbage.



164



Nothing was to be seen of a child. He thought about waking
up his friend to tell him about the ghost, but he did not do it.
There was nothing. Nothing at all.

After two hours, Frank was damn glad about the fact, that
he could hand over the night watch to Alfred now. Then he
immediately fell asleep. When it was his turn again, in the
early morning, he initially illuminated the strange place with
his flashlight. But there were no ghosts at all, only garbage.
Franks nerves were raw and he started to search more
thoroughly. But it must have been an illusion. Shortly
afterwards, the young man left the spooky place and hoped
that the panic would die down again.
The fire flickered and fought against its extinction for a
while. Finally Kohlhaas had to return to the eerie corner to
bring some more firewood. He was still scared and looked
around, waiting for the coming of the ghostly child. But it did
not come and left Frank alone in the cold darkness.

On the next day, at half past eight, Alfred heard voices.

„Calm! ", he hissed and touched Frank lightly. „Hey! Don't

you hear that? "

Kohlhaas startled and sharpened his ears. Baumer was

right. Now he heard the voices too. Someone was shouting

in the distance, and the calls resounded in the tunnels. They

had to be vigilant now.

J take a look! ", said Alfred quietly.

„Damn! Be careful! ", answered Frank and slapped on

Baumefs shoulder.

Alf jumped up and crawled through the hole in the wall into

the sewer corridor. He ran to a bifurcation and went into the

next passage. In his corner of his eye, he could see one of

the red crosses, he had sprayed on the wall before. The

voices became louder. They probably came from the larger

hall with the control room. After some minutes, Alf had



165



advanced far enough into the tangle of sewers corridors and
had reached the room with the water basins. Again, he
heard someone call in French. He turned off his flashlight
and disappeared in the darkness. Then he sneaked towards
to the source of noise. Someone had put on the lights in the
hall and the old, high vault was weakly illuminated now.
Baumer dared not to go further and huddled in a corner of
the corridor, which led to the hall. The voices still became a
little louder and came out of the small room beside the hall,
which could be reached over the stairs.
Finally a man came out of the chamber and called his
colleague. 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!