The
aftereffects
of the holo cell
were far more malicious, than he could imagine and they
were still there, deep in the dark corners of his brain.
were far more malicious, than he could imagine and they
were still there, deep in the dark corners of his brain.
Orwell - 1984
Since the escape from "Big Eye", he hadn't been in the
condition to think about these strange men, who had
rescued him. Who were they?
He opened the entrance door of the house and stepped
outside, left it open a bit, so that he could come back again,
because he had no key for the ramshackle door. When he
looked down the street, in which Alf s house was, Kohlhaas
saw a lot of further hovels on each side. Some of the
houses seemed to be empty, others had weathered fronts
and in the gardens, a sprouting, uncontrolled growth was
spreading everywhere.
Some of the windows had been nailed up with rotted
boards, probably long ago. One house had even a
collapsed roof. In addition, here and there, one of the
houses had been renovated again and Frank heard the
voices of children out of a side street. He could even
understand their language, it was German.
Nevertheless, the sun shone on all the roofs, whether
desolate or repaired again. But many people didn't seem to
live in this rundown village. Finally, Frank saw two men, who
unloaded crates out of a delivery van. A tractor rattled
somewhere in the distance and a mature woman leaned out
of the window in the house opposite to him.
Frank walked down the road and came to a square, which
probably must had been the center of the small village in
former times. Weed sprouted out of the cracks between the
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cobblestones, which covered the whole place. Here, in the
center of this ghost town, Frank could see three old houses
with big shopwindows. Two of the large windows were
broken and the buildings looked dilapidated. The
shopwindow of the other house was completely plastered
with yellow cellotape. In the center of the square was a
memorial stone, completely overgrown with all sorts of
grass and bushes. It was surrounded by a wooden fence.
Kohlhaas could hardly recognize the memorial stone and,
apart from this, the inscription on it was in Cyrillic, so that
the man from "Central Europe" could not read anything.
On the stone, a soldier with a helmet and a rifle was shown.
Nevertheless, Frank had already seen this helmet from the
old time in a history book. Furthermore, he was able to
decipher the years, which had been engraved on the
memorial stone: 1941 and 1989.
The young man continued his walk and regarded a
moldered church, which stood next to the village square. Its
roof was damaged and had enormous holes, bricks covered
with moss and lichens lay in front of the rotten, wooden front
door, that was adorned with a hardly recognizable picture.
On the tower was a rusted cross of iron. The winged thing
on the door of the church, which was completely overgrown
with lichens, was probably an angel, that had symbolically
welcomed the people at the entrance of the church in the
old times.
But in a world, that had been left alone by God, perhaps
even this angel had lost his "job" one day. Frank pushed the
large wood door to the side and climbed over a pile of
planks, in order to reach the inner part of the old church.
Dried out leaves, dirt and dust were everywhere on the
ground in front of him. The benches of the old building were
dirty and everything made the impression of being lost. The
altar was also damaged and had small tears and cracks,
64
probably because of the cold of a hard winter. The visitor
finally turned his head towards the ceiling and examined the
wooden frescos on the walls, which also showed traces of
decomposition. Frank beheld some angels, that were
fighting against strange looking demons or something like
that - creatures from hell. Other frescos depicted mother
Maria and Jesus Christ.
"The superstar of Christianity. . . ", said Frank to himself and
smiled cynically. This church appeared old and somehow
also sublime. The chapel had possibly been built in the late
Middle Age, but Frank did not know it for sure. He knew
nothing about history.
But the young man didn't care about the age of this church.
Only one thing was true - the building touched his inner
self, although, he never had believed in anything.
Maybe just because it was beautiful and old. In his previous
world, he had never beholden an old building. Gray
plattenbauten, dirty streets, underpasses and factories were
nothing new to him, but he had never looked at old
churches or castles. This house of God was just like a
memorial of a forgotten time. A time far beyond this dark
age.
The church had probably been the heart of this village for
many decades or even centuries. At this place, the people
had prayed to a higher power, begging it to take care of
them. But in the end, it all had come differently. In the year
2028, mankind was alone, and Frank had never noticed a
higher power, that wanted to protect its children.
„Father, if you exist at all, why have you left us? ", said Frank
quietly to himself and looked at the fragile ceiling of the old
building again. Then he went back to the square.
He walked through the hopeless village for several hours.
Again and again, up to the other end and back. Around the
65
locality were fields and forests, and only a muddy street
seemed to connect it with the rest of the world. The young
man sat down on a bank and looked at the sky, when three
little children, probably those, who he had already heard
before in the side street, ran across the road in front of him.
They briefly examined him and smiled, but Frank didn't take
heed of them.
Somewhere a dog barked in a house, which looked
inhabited. He stood up and passed some vacant, rundown
houses. This village, the renegate citizen had already
forgotten its name, was a bleak place, as Kohlhaas thought.
Nevertheless, he prefered this village to the rotten, former
FRG capital Berlin, his old home. He wouldn't miss the
criminality, the cultural and racial tensions and all the decay,
that was typical for the shabby metropolis, where he had
grown up. Now he was here. In this strange hicktown. . .
„lvas! " Now Frank remembered the name of the village. Alf
had said it several times. Ivas, somewhere in Lithuania. But
what was this for a strange village? Frank Kohlhaas was
puzzled.
Meanwhile, he was tired and his shoes were completely
covered with mud. He finally decided to return to Alfs
house, because the front door was still open, although it
was improbable, that the other villagers would steal from
them. It was not like in Berlin. Soon the day came to an end.
Frank didn't know yet, where he was here.
„ln three days we must leave this house, Frank! I must leave
it too, because it is doesn't belong to me", explained
Baumer after a meager lunch.
„As I already guessed. Whose house is it? "
„lt belongs to another villager, who is currently in Minsk to
buy some things", answered Baumer. „Wilden has said, that
we can live here for a few days. If the owner comes back
66
home, we can surely move to one of the other vacant
houses in the village. "
„What is that for a odd village? ", murmured Frank.
„Wilden will explain it to you tomorrow. Actually, he already
wanted to talk to you today, but you were not here. You took
a little walk, isn't it? ", said Alf, whose tiredness meanwhile
shone in his eyes.
„Tell me, where are you from, Baumer? ", asked Frank
suddenly.
„Well, I was born in Dortmund and have lived in some other
cities in the Ruhrgebiet, also in Frankfurt am Main, for four
years", said Alf and took another tea.
„Why have they brought you to „Big Eye"? , Frank became
curious.
„My God, you ask a lot. But well, you will have to remain
here in Ivas, this is hopefully obvious to you, and therefore, I
will tell you a few things about me. "
Alfred Baumer decided to make another camomile tea and
went to the boiler. Then he fetched a cigarette and began
with a small lecture about his life.
Frank actually didn't want to know all the details, but Alf
seemed to look forward to a little speech. Now he was
awake again.
J had troubles with the authorities since my 16th year of life.
I was active in various political groups, which you don't
know, as I think. Anyhow, they are all forbidden since many
years.
I have already been in jail for one year in 2013 - when the
political system of the FRG still existed. They have punished
me for so called "opinion crimes" - because I have designed
a few Internet sites, which were uncomfortable for the state.
At that time, I was just 19 years old. My parents have lost
their jobs during the great world economic crisis in 2012/13,
and have jettisoned me after my term of imprisonment. I
67
have never returned back home again. Afterwards, I have
lived with some friends, in various housing groups, and of
course also alone. After six years, in 2020, I have joined the
Red Moon groups, always trying to live inconspicuously.
Nevertheless, it has gone wrong. "
„The Red Moon groups? " Frank looked surprised. „They
were terrorists, isn't it? These guys have burned a hospital
in Berlin, right? "
. . That's nonsense! Lies! ", grumbled Alf and gave Frank an
annoyed glance.
„l'm sorry. They have said it on television at that time",
remarked Frank and tried to calm down his comrade.
„On television. . . on television. . . ! Nevertheless, fucking
television is even the biggest lie of that world system, man!
Didn't you understand this yet? ", grunted Baumer and felt
accused wrongly.
„No offense meant! ", apologized Kohlhaas.
„No, it is a lie, Frank. The Red Moon groups publicy
protested against the World Government and united
thousands of young people in their fight. Opponents of
globalization, free philosophers, patriots and others. After
that damn hospital hoax, which the media exaggerated with
all their might, we were criminalized. It had been the work of
the GSA, the international secret service, there is no doubt
for me. It has not been activists of our group! However, the
following crusade of the international media, broke the neck
of the Red Moon organization. Tell me, why should a group
of freedom fighters burn innocent people in a hospital? ",
asked Alf with visible rage.
„Do you see the tattoo on my neck? This is the „Red Moon",
the blood-red moon of the fight for liberty - our old symbol! "
„l don't know enough about all this and I don't care. . . ", said
Frank. „l only know, that I hate that goddam World
68
Government, that terrible system - from the bottom of my
heart! "
„Then Ivas is the right place for you, my friend! ", said Alf and
stared at his tea cup, clenching his fist.
„And then? ", asked Frank.
„Then? Then I was still active. After the Red Moon groups
were forbidden worldwide, we continued our struggle in the
underground. Finally, I was arrested during an illegal,
spontaneous demonstration, which I have organized with
some of my comrades. I had to go to jail again.
My time in „Big Eye" began and I can be glad, that they did
not find other loading material during the house search at
that time, otherwise I would have been liquidated. "
„What material? ", questioned Kohlhaas. Alfred Baumer
looked at him and shook his head.
„You ask very much for a man, who still was flat on his face
a few hours ago. Never mind! That would have made me
more than just some problems, believe me. So I was
sentenced to nine years of detention, only because of the
spontaneous demonstration. I would have never endured
that. In my time as an activist of the Red Moon groups, I
became also aquainted with some of these weird guys from
here. They have already told me years ago, that I should
escape from the sector "Central Europe", to come with them
to Lithuania.
Nevertheless, I was not willing to give up the fight in my
homeland, because it was my aim, to liberate it from this
global insanity. Today I say to myself, that it was just stupid
to wait for so long. It would have been wiser to leave
"Central Europe" in time, because the great enemy is much
too strong in the West. "
„Well, now you are here. And me too. The best thing that
could happen to us, Baumer. This fucked up sector "Central
69
Europe" shall go to hell, it shall rot forever! ", hissed Frank
and wiped off some tea drops from his lip.
"We must not let our compatriots go to the hell! It is our
country! No, we are not on vacation here! We just relocate
our fight. We will only surrender, when the maggots corrode
us in our graves! ", answered Alfred and put his foot down.
Frank was astonished and observed his partner, who
snatched the teapot with a loud curse. "We are not on
vacation here! "
Frank was surprised about this statement, his housemate
had shouted out with so much passion. What did Alf mean
by that?
Again, Frank Kohlhaas slept well and firmly. He had
amazingly regenerated himself, in this short time.
Sometimes he even felt euphoric.
„l am not even afraid of the devil! ", he thought then and
smiled proudly.
But it was not that simple.
The aftereffects of the holo cell
were far more malicious, than he could imagine and they
were still there, deep in the dark corners of his brain. They
just lay in wait and planned to erupt, in order to strangle
Frank's peace of mind, while he was sleeping.
Like the mourning, after the death of a beloved person,
usually comes in waves, it was the same with the mental
horror, the holo cell had unleashed in Frank's mind.
The dread had only entrenched itself and waited now, in its
fortified position, for the signal to attack Frank again. No, the
fright wasn't gone. But in these first days of his new
freedom, Kohlhaas had a peaceful time - so far.
The rain pattered on the corrugated iron roof of the small
shed in front of Frank's window, and the untiring noise
made him wake up. It was already after ten o'clock on this
70
wet morning and the young man rolled from one end of the
bed to the other. Suddenly Alf entered the room and said:
„Good morning, Frank! Please get up! Wilden is here and he
would like to talk to you! "
The village boss already sat in the kitchen and sipped his
coffee. He welcomed Frank friendly and told him to follow
him to his house after the breakfest. Somehow, the situation
was unpleasant for Frank, but he tried to avoid problems
and obeyed.
„We must talk about some things, Kohlhaas! ", remarked the
leader of the village community, who wore a long gray coat
and a hat with a narrow brim.
The rain had softened the muddy roads of the village, and
Frank waded behind the somehow authoritarian and
impressive Mr. Wilden through the dirt. After a short foot
march, they finally came to an amazingly well renovated
house, which was even surrounded by a beautiful garden.
„We go upstairs! ", said Wilden.
The former entrepreneur sat down behind an adorned desk
of dark wood and remained silent for some minutes. Frank
took a seat on a soft armchair of black imitation leather,
which smelled cleaned. He looked around. The room
seemed to be an office and was in a perfect condition.
Everywhere he could see pictures on the wall with the light
brown wallpaper: battle paintings, framed photos of some
great men from the old times and a lot of other things.
„Well, Frank Kohlhaas. Do you like our village? ", asked the
gray-haired man, smiled and tried to take the uncertainty
from his young guest.
„Nice! ", was Frank's short answer.
„Nice! ", repeated Wilden soberly. J want to make it short,
and I will not talk around the bush", said the village boss
and looked out the window.
71
Then he continued: „This village is called Ivas. It is in the
area of the former state of Lithuania, in the southwest part
of this actually beautiful country. It is small and insignificant.
A small village, that has been abandoned by its former
inhabitants under the pressure of the worldwide economic
collapse some years ago. A ghost town, as you may know
them from North America.
"Aha. . . ", said Frank.
„This village is so small and so unimportant, that even the
sharpest eye must look twice to see it", explained Wilden.
. . Therefore, I am safe here! ", joked Frank.
. . Well, security is relative. Particularly in our time, Mr.
Kohlhaas. Above all, nowadays! ", said the host quietly.
„But here. . . ", remarked Frank.
„As I already said, Frank Kohlhaas", interrupted him Wilden.
. . Today it is a benediction to be safe. You are here in Ivas,
an insignificant village, in an also not excessively important
country in Eastern Europe. This village is so unimportant
that even the big eye, the eye, which can see the whole
world and always wants to see more, did not notice it yet.
Do you know, what this village really is, Frank? "
„No! Just tell it to me! ", Frank reacted nervously.
. . Then I want to explain it to you exactly. Where you are
here, and with whom you are here! ", answered the man with
a serious look. . . This is no usual village in the contemplative
Lithuania and we are no holiday community. We are rebels,
who fight against the World Government. Ivas is one of our
bases. Some of our men live here, with their families or
alone.
A few of these ramshackle houses, I had acquired for
relatively small sums from the former Lithuanian state in the
period of its dissolution. Finally, my fellows and me settled
in this abandoned village. Some more men will still come
72
and we will establish our position here. But there is one
important rule: Everybody has to be quiet! "
Frank wondered. . . Rebels against the World Government? ",
he thought and beheld Wilden with surprise.
„l think, I know, what you mean! ", he said then.
„You came to Ivas and you will stay here. We can't let you
go, because you already know too much and this is a safety
risk. Even if you tell just one single word about us and this
village, we must kill you! I say it to you not as your foe. This
is the situation, in which you are, Frank Kohlhaas! ", spoke
Wilden and nodded. „And believe me, we will not hesitate,
to wack you immediately, if you endanger our group! ", he
said with a cold voice.
„l understand! ", Frank was more than confused.
"But I don't want to threaten or frighten you, my friend. You
had suffered enough and I wish you a good recovering here.
Furthermore, I don't want to force you to join us. Just trust
Alf, he is a man with a pure heart and could even become a
good friend to you. Moreover, he bailes for you and told me,
that you are a nice person", said Wilden and smiled again.
„l want to rest, as a start, and then I will take a look at your
organization. And believe me, I'm really grateful, because
you saved my life. Don't worry, I would never betray you. I
give you my oath", said Kohlhaas to the older gentleman
and sounded resolute.
. . Trust me, Frank. You are here now, and you will find your
peace of mind among us. And on the other hand, there is no
turning back for you anymore. If they would ever catch you,
you would be liquidated immediately.
You are registered as a terrorist and a murderer, in all
worldwide databases of any administration and authority,
and a so called "normal life" is an illusion now. Whereby,
however, it becomes clear at a closer look that we are the
only ones who live a "normal life", because we are free men
73
and no slaves of this global system, born of terror and
oppression", explained Wilden with a more gently becoming
voice.
„l wanted to thank you again. . . ", whispered Frank quietly.
"No problem, my young friend! I am glad about the fact, that
Alf and the others didn't let you die", answered Wilden with
a paternal countenance.
The talk with the founder of this base took a long time and
Wilden became more and more kindlier. It seemed, that the
older gentleman, who had appeared so cold at first sight,
would have a fancy for Frank.
Since 2013, when the great crisis had shaken the entire
globe and had driven millions of people into poverty,
destroying innumerable existences and finally even leading
to famines, this village had been left by its former
inhabitants.
The collapse of the economy in Lithuania had caused a
mass exodus of young people, who had been driven by the
illusion, to be able to find jobs in the countries of Western
Europe.
Villages like Ivas, which had lived on retail trade and
agriculture to a large extent, had just collapsed, and their
inhabitants had moved into the larger cities of the country or
to the West.
A ghost town had finally remained and meanwhile the rural
areas of Eastern Europe were full of abandoned villages.
Thorsten Wilden, the former entrepreneur from Westphalia,
had decided in 2018, when the shadows of a global
dictatorship had come over the former FRG, to leave his
homeland and to acquire houses in Ivas with his last money.
Wilden had already been registered as a political dissident
in the databases of the secret service, even at the time of
the FRG. He had too often been noticeable. When the
74
entrepreneur had stood for a political incorrect party against
the FRG system in 2012, the media had tried to
economically ruin him with a big campaign. The German
had already thought about emigration in these days. But he
had still persevered for a while, although the media had
called up to boycott his company and his family had been
threatened by incited fanatics. And the situation had
continued to become worse. During the great world
economic crisis, the entrepreneur had lost the biggest part
of his fortune and had become a target for the political
police of the FRG.
Thereupon, Western and Central Europe had been shaken
by a breakdown of the social system and racial and religious
conflicts. Europe had finally been close to civil war.
In the year 2018, Germany had been taken over by the
World Government, while Wilden had escaped to Lithuania
with his family.
He had offered the rest of his savings and had bought some
of the empty houses and also a few properties in Ivas, for
relatively small sums from the collapsing Lithuanian state.
The dying national state, which had been driven into
complete bankruptcy by the crisis, had been glad about
each cent that a foreign investor had given.
In the years 2018 to 2020, the World Government had been
established. The new rulers had promised the masses to
master the great crisis, and had moreover seized the
opportunity, to abolish the old states of Europe.
Then a massive wave of liquidations of political incorrect
persons had followed. Who had been located as a
suspicious person, had been arrested or killed by the
ruthless oppressors.
Shortly afterwards, the Lodge Brothers had founded the
international secret service, the GSA, to eliminate political
opponents. Campaigns of mass arrests, mass liquidations,
75
brainwashing, terror and intimidation had been the order of
the day in this years. Finally, the face of Europe had been
crushed to a bloody pulp. Only in the USA, the GSA had still
raged more effectively and had executed even larger parts
of the population as in Europe.
In this time of terror, Wilden had already escaped to Eastern
Europe and had overcome the first onslaught with his family
unharmedly. However, many of his political fellows of that
time had disappeared in prisons or mass graves.
Nevertheless, the terror had reached the countries of
Eastern Europe too, but the preparatory work for a perfect
surveillance state had only been made half-heartedly and
languidly here. Moreover, the registration of the whole
population wasn't as extensive as in the West yet. So the
strike of the World Government against the nations of the
world, had lost a lot of its power in Lithuania.
Apart from this, Russia and the other states of Eastern
Europe had become members of the world system in the
year 2020, two years after the official takeover of the new
rulrs. Here, some air for breathing had still remained. But
the Lodge Brothers were willing to make up leeway, in the
countries outside of North America and Western Europe.
After these difficult facts and explanations, Frank had never
thought about before, he was impressed by Wilden's talent
to elucidate things. Altogether, he was fascinated by him.
Communities of men like Ivas, had some more time to live in
peace, but the officials even pressurized the sector "Eastern
Europe" more and more, to create a modern system of total
control. So also in Ivas, strictest secrecy was increasingly
necessary to survive, and Wilden's village had ever more
problems to keep up the image of an unimportant village,
inhabited by some farmers. HOK or Holger K. , who didn't
betray his surname to anyone, except for Thorsten Wilden,
76
was one of the most important men in Ivas. The former
computer scientist was a master in tampering scanchips
and to rewrite registration datas of vehicles and airplanes in
a way, that they were inconspicuous. After four hours, Frank
Kohlhaas finally left the house of Thorsten Wilden. This new
world really impressed him and for a man like Frank, a
return to his old life was impossible at this point.
When the young man came into HOK's study two days
later, he was welcomed by a thick, burly man. The
information scientist sat in front of a big, wireless computer,
surrounded by a lot of crates and cardboards, which were
repleted with all kinds of things. He looked like the typical
computer genius and reminded Frank of a comic figure.
HOK smiled and examined Kohlhaas from top to bottom.
Meanwhile, he scratched his head and gabbled something.
„You need a new Scanchip? You will get a new Scanchip!
He, he! ", said the weird computer scientist and typed on his
keyboard.
„Oh! I am HOK! Specialist for electronic questions and other
problems in this beautiful village! "
„Hello! ", said Kohlhaas.
„Oh, how good that nobody knows, how uncle HOK is really
called. A little joke, I always like to tell", returned HOK and
hastily waved his lower arms. „And soon, also nobody will
know your name anymore! "
J will always be Frank Kohlhaas! ", answered the young man
and grinned.
„Sure! And I will be always HOK, even if I am sometimes
Mike Weber or Enrico Althaus", said Holger K. with a
philosophical undertone.
„However, you will get a new Scanchip now, because
otherwise you are just fucked up in this world. "
77
HOK let the keys rattle and worked for the next minutes as
under hypnosis in front of his computer screen. He visited
various servers and data bases and explained, that it could
last a while. Anyway, he had to generate a large number of
new access codes and this was a lot of work. His virtual
attacks on the secret servers of administrative districts and
registration banks had remained unnoticed so far, and could
not be retraced. The coding and safety precautions, which
HOK used, were impressing and reflected the quite entitled
paranoia in his head.
„This computer officially stands, from its source code, in
Patah Keadan in Malaysia. Sometimes I also attack from
Siberia, northern China or Angola. This is always very
funny! ", gaggled the cyberfreak and smiled proudly.
J believe you, man.
