Enigma Earth

Good Morning and Good-bye, Part Twenty-five

    “Let’s go,” ordered Stalin/Boris to the cockpit, through the Mermaid’s communication system, “Take-off!”
    The pilot and the co-pilot eyed each other in the cockpit and then turned to the flight engineer in the back right corner. They knew if an engine failed again, their last flight might be to Siberia, as prisoner passengers. The flight engineer finished scanning his dials and readouts of engine status and then turned and nodded as confidently as he could to the pilot.
    The Mermaid’s engines powered up nicely, much to the relief of the flight crew. The largest amphibious aircraft in the world started to taxi out into the river in the early morning dark. One of the observation officers activated an access port on top of the aircraft and a spotlight appeared, scanning for water vessels. Lucky for them none of the many coal barges, or hydro wheelers that steamed along the river were near, not even a rowboat.
    The Mermaid had just got to the middle of the river and started to turn into the wind for take-off. The pilot tried to operate the marine rudder, but as he turned right the right, down river and into the wind, the plane would not stop turning.
    Jim Dawes had ordered his assault team to the riverbank across from the Mermaid.
    “One shot,” he told a sniper, “just disable an engine.”
    “Or more likely blow it up,” retorted Hans Volkswagen.
    “Volkswagen let me finish this. I have a maritime squad on the way from the Delhi station to board this thing. We’ve got to stop it from getting off the ground.”
    “You mean, water,” added Hans.
    Dawes rolled his eyes at Volkswagen.
    Hans looked past Dawes noticing what the pilots of the Mermaid were. She was locked in a right hand turn. They were not going anywhere.
    Stalin/Boris grabbed an intercom mic, “What is going on? Take-off!”
    “Comrade Stalin, our marine rudder has failed. We must shut down and try to effect repairs.”
    “What? No! Wait…” said Boris/Stalin now clutching his head again.
    “Comrade Stalin,” said Dr. Andropov, “Let me get you to the Medpunkt section, so that you can lay down and I can give you something for your head.”
    “Stopping this turning would help more,” he said dizzily following Andropov as best he could.
    In another section of the Mermaid, Silas, Nell, Halley and Mariana sat handcuffed into airliner like seats.
    “Silas, what’s happening?” asked Nell.
    “I’m not sure,” said Silas looking out a port side window. Water was starting to swirl up near the window. He noticed that either the water was getting higher or the aircraft was sinking. Within seconds, he could tell it was sinking.
The force of the spin became greater. From a vantage point outside the aircraft, one could see that a great whirlpool had formed around it. Even the rational Jim Dawes looked in awe. None of the police officers had ever seen a phenomenon of this kind on the river.
    The force of the spin plastered Silas, against the wall of the cabin. One by one, he saw the others pass out. Just as he lost consciousness, water started seeping in through the ventilation system. That is the last thing he remembered.
    How much time had gone by, he was not sure, but he eventually awoke underwater, but was not dead, alive, not but not drowning, but yet not quite breathing, dry, but also wet. The Mermaid was nowhere to be found. He was floating freely in the dark, dark, river water. His mind was as cloudy as the water. He felt as if sedated. He managed to form the thought that he might be dead or dying. It might be somewhere in between. That is when a bluish yellow light narrowly appeared above him piercing through the dark. He wondered if heaven waited.

Good Morning and Good-bye, Part Twenty-Four

    Silas held the jar of holy water for a moment, casually, calculating in his head the distance and angle needed to strike Stalin.
    Mariana weak and on all fours looked from the blood soaked body of Stroganov to where she thought the jar had rolled. She saw Silas with it and nodded weakly.
    Stalin/Boris was laughing at the look of fear on Andropov’s face after he had threatened to kill him next.
    “Don’t worry comrade. I’m sure you will come up with something.”
    “Yes,” said Andropov, “In the plane, I have a full medical kit.”
    Silas now brought the jar of water in front of him, but he was spotted.
    “Comrade Stalin!” barked one of the guards, “The American!”
    Boris/Stalin turned towards Silas.
    “Were you going to do something with that?” Boris/Stalin asked.
    “I was thirsty,” said Silas sardonically.
    “Yes, of course,” said Boris/Stalin walking over to Silas. As he came closer he looked a bit confused and was squinting.
    “You. Silas. Silas Whowood, Nell’s old friend from Moscow. She’s told me so much about you. So much that I could be insanely jealous. My transformation, as it were, has made me feel that personal relationships are in fact meaningless. Obedience to the state is all that matters.”
    “So you are just insane, but not jealous.”
    “Humor out of the American!” laughed Boris/Stalin.
    He walked up to Silas and snatched the jar out of his hand.
    “Touch my face,” instructed Boris/Stalin.
    “Why?” asked Silas.
    “Because your jar of water cannot harm me! I am Stalin, the man of steel!”
    Silas touch his face. It certainly was not human flesh, though it seemed to move like it. It felt like solid metal with a gold cast.
    “The tin man from Oz you’re not,” said Silas.
    “You see,” he said with grin. He turned and hurled the jar of water into the river. It shattered on impact.
    “Oh! This place bores me so! Perhaps we should leave for Moscow. It will be triumphant!  I’ll be back to destroy America soon enough.”
    He turned to the guards. “Bring the Ukrainian witch with us. We will find out where her family lives and start the extermination from there. And bring Nell with us.”
    “No!” cried Nell.
    “But Nell, I am your husband.”
    “Not any more,” she said.    
    He moved close to her. Silas tried to move forward, but machine guns stopped him.
    “Oh Nell, my dear wife. The Motherland needs its mother, at least for propaganda needs and that means you. Come Nell!”
    “No! Silas, do something!”
   “Mr. Whowood is going to do something. He will come along as well. We’ll put him on trial as a spy and send a message to foreigners to stay out of our affairs. Yes, nothing like a show trial. I could have him sent to the gulag though, or have him executed, if you’re not a good girl and obey me. Either way, it’s just like old times. Come!”
    “No!” cried Nell again.
    With consulate guards and Dr. Andropov having guns trained on them, Silas, Nell and Mariana made their way down to the water’s edge and the gangway that boarded to the “Mermaid”. 
    Nell helped Mariana to rise and walk. Weakly, Mariana whispered to her, “God help us.”
    Behind the police cars, Jim Dawes assessed the situation grimly.
    “Volkswagen, we’ve got to stop that aircraft.”
    Hans rolled his eyes at Dawes stating of the obvious.
    “Yup, you’re right Jim,” he said with a sigh, continuing to stare at the scene before him.
    “What are you going to do then? You said you have this under control,” said Dawes back sarcastically.
    “I’m thinking,” said Hans.
    Silas kept scanning his brain for options also as he entered the aircraft with Stalin in the lead. The “Mermaid’s” crew saluted. Out in the middle of the river, no one noticed that a small pool of water started to form and swirl.