Abyssus Abyssum Invocat

by Carlo Zen

  The offer made it hard to tell him how strange this seemed.

  These political officers, thought Mikel with a wry smile. There’s got to be a better way they can make conversation. They’re great at bullying their enemies, but when it comes to winning over allies, they’ve got nothing? Apparently, he had a critical flaw that was difficult to cover up.

  “I would be happy to join you, Comrade Political Commissar. But I thought perhaps…there was something you wanted to talk to me about?”

  “Oh, you knew, Comrade Colonel?”

  It would have been easy to spit, How could I not?! Even without the flowery words, he could see right away. After all, the man’s normal expression of something like suppressed condescension had taken on a brownnosing hue.

  …As someone who had lived under the heels of others all this time, Mikel had to notice it, even if he didn’t want to.

  “There’s no greater happiness for a soldier than to be of use to his comrades and his party. Whatever is it, Comrade Political Commissar?”

  What empty nonsense it was to work for a party you didn’t believe in. It made him want to lament, Oh Lord. Surely even the Lord, although he might wince, would forgive him some tricks necessary for survival.

  Then was this the Lord’s protection and forgiveness? The political commissar began to speak as if a dam had broken.

  “Very well, Comrade Colonel…allow me to consult with you. We’ve actually just received special orders from Moskva. They’re instructions of the highest priority from the Central Committee.”

  “Special orders from Moskva?! Comrade Political Commissar, I haven’t been notified…” He protested because he was the battalion commander, after all. Of course, he knew how little Moskva trusted them. It made him sick. But if they were going to be entrusted with such an important mission, he would want to be preparing far in advance.

  “My apologies, but it was top secret, and I only just found out about it myself.”

  “Top secret?”

  “Yes, an escort is needed, Comrade, and you and your own comrades have been ordered to provide it. According to Moskva, it’s a civilian ship from the Commonwealth and…you’re to coordinate its defense with the Commonwealth marine mages on board.”

  A civilian ship from the Commonwealth. Wasn’t the party cursing them as despicable pawns of bourgeois imperialism just a few years ago?

  A civilian ship from there is visiting a northern naval base? And Moskva is telling us to protect it? It didn’t seem at all likely.

  No. The absurd truth hit him.

  “You’re saying Moskva has special orders for us?”

  “Comrade Colonel, it’s a mission of utmost importance. I’m sure the party and the fatherland have significant expectations of us… Let’s rise to meet them together.”

  The political commissar’s creepy smile as he held out his hand irritated Mikel.

  Moskva, the party members—none of them was paying any attention to us a few months ago. And now I’m supposed to be comrades with this guy with the chilly smile? What a dramatic twist of fate. It’s surreal. Cliché, in fact.

  And what other words are there to describe it? Whoever said, “Truth is stranger than fiction,” hit it right on the nose.

  “Of course…but… We’re really just escorting a civilian ship?”

  Still, what’s the deal with escorting a civilian vessel? What the heck are they telling us to protect?

  Mikel had been doing his utmost to collect information since his release. But there was no way the newspapers published by the party contained truth and the news as is. Reading between the lines to figure out what hadn’t been written was no easy task.

  “If it’s not confidential, I’d like you to tell me: It seems slightly excessive to me. Are its passengers or cargo that valuable?”

  We’ve been stationed up in the relatively quiet north despite the main lines turning into a stalemate.

  I thought the only reason Central would send a detestable political commissar here was to get rid of him…but apparently I was wrong.

  He was suddenly very curious about what was being entrusted to them.

  “It must be quite some cargo…”

  “Yes, well, it is valuable without a doubt. But compared to the actual target of your services, its load probably isn’t as important.”

  What’s that supposed to mean? Mikel wondered, but the political commissar continued right on talking.

  “We want you to treat this defensive mission the same way you would a mission in airspace over the capital. Keep a sharp watch.”

  “I understand that we’re escorting a civilian boat, but I just don’t get it. For starters, even if you tell us to protect a ship, I can only wonder what we should actually do. In that case…” I have to tell him that we simply can’t do what we can’t do. Mikel continued, “We have no maritime navigation training, and on top of that, our unit has no anti-submarine doctrine. I don’t really think we’ll be a useful convoy escort.”

  “Oh, but Moskva isn’t asking you to perform a maritime or convoy escort.”

  The response confused him. As far as Mikel knew, ships sailed through water. If they were being told to escort the ship, the only possibilities he could come up with were flying above the convoy or sailing alongside it.

  He wasn’t even familiar with the navy in the first place.

  “Comrade Political Commissar, you’re being too vague. I realize I’m not well versed in matters pertaining to the sea, but I’d appreciate it if you’d explain. Aren’t we going to be guarding the transport ship?”

  “You are correct, Comrade Colonel.”

  I don’t understand the context of this at all. Mikel was about to cock his head when the commissar’s next words confused him even further.

  “But it’s not a convoy. What we’ll be protecting is a single, huge transport ship of Commonwealth nationality.”

  “Huh?” The question slipped out at that news. We’re providing this powerful of a guarding force to one boat?

  “It’s sailing alone? That’s awfully reckless. I’ve heard imperial subs are lurking around… What a dangerous thing to do.”

  “Ha-ha-ha. You’re right. Under normal circumstances, I’m sure that would be true; however, Comrade Colonel. This ship must sail alone. Contrary to what one might think, that’s probably the safest option.”

  What? Just as Mikel was about to cock his head in confusion, the commissar continued hesitantly.

  “It got attacked by a powerful imperial aerial mage unit and still managed to break through—the RMS Queen of Anjou, code name: Queen of the Sea. It’s currently the largest ocean liner in the world.”

  “The RMS Queen of Anjou? That’s a name I don’t know.”

  Although I suppose I should have heard of it if it’s the biggest ship in the world.

  “…It’s new, only made its maiden voyage a couple of years ago. It may not be very well known in the Federation.”

  “A few years ago?”

  “Either way, well, er. It would be great if you could not worry about that.”

  Oh. It was then that Mikel scoffed at himself internally for being so stupid. Of course the political commissar would have a hard time saying that.

  Its maiden voyage a few years ago!

  That was when we were in the gulag learning how far we could go before our humanity would break. He was forced to recall how they were unable to get any information about the outside world.

  A slightly awkward silence hung in the air. But this wasn’t all bad news for Colonel Mikel. At the same time, he knew for sure that a favorable wind was now blowing.

  “I’ve overcome that unfortunate misunderstanding and am grateful that the party has a place for us now.”

  Mikel was desperate. If this went well, it could lead to a promotion. It seemed like a chance. But the chance didn’t come free. If he failed this special mission from Moskva, he, and even his family, wouldn’t get off easily.

  On the other hand, i
f he could pull it off… If he could pull it off, maybe he would be allowed to take back what he missed so dearly. Though they were being treated better, his family was still in the camp.

  If he could provide a normal life for them with this…

  “Not to rush, but I’d like to hear the details of the mission. Please tell me.”

  “I’d expect nothing less from you, Comrade Colonel. Your response is encouraging.”

  Mikel wasn’t thrilled about the prospect of getting worked so hard by this political commissar smiling at his luck. But Mikel knew from experience not to make enemies for no reason.

  He gave the commissar a vague smile and figured he wouldn’t be tainted to his core just for shaking hands. If he didn’t shake hands with the devil and drink vodka together with him, he’d never last until the Lord’s return.

  “It’s damaged…but can still sail. That’s how it made it to our navy base. However,” he continued in a voice suppressing his disgust, “the effects of the imperial strike cannot be ignored. The attacks targeted the deck and the engine, so the damage is profound. Our comrades at the base are working as fast as they can to fix it, but they say it will definitely take a few days.”

  “I have a question. Will the RMS Queen of Anjou be carrying things we need in the future?”

  “Yes, that’s right.”

  Perhaps the rumor that the so-called West Side was sending us military gear, industrial parts, and a ton of medical supplies in support of the fierce fight on the main lines was true.

  Surprisingly, maybe it’s best not to discount those tiny whispers.

  “For that reason, we must provide complete protection. That is the special mission for you, Comrade, and your comrades from the party executives.”

  “It’s an exceedingly great honor to bear the party’s expectations. But, Comrade Political Commissar, what does ‘complete protection’ mean?”

  It was unusual to specify a single ship and send in a mage battalion. Anyone would guess there was a catch. As for Mikel, he understood that they needed to protect the RMS Queen of Anjou that the West Side was sending over.

  But he didn’t understand the particular repetition and emphasis on complete. In a way…that was a reasonable question for him to have as a soldier.

  To the political commissar, the need for perfection was clear as day. But though he was deeply sorry, he didn’t explain any more.

  “It’s the heart of our maritime supply line. Comrade Colonel, no matter what happens, we want you to defend it to the last.”

  That was all the political commissar could say, in his position. In that sense, his answer could qualify as conscientious.

  That said, as a member of the Commissariat for Internal Affairs, he knew.

  …He knew what Comrade Loria would do to anyone who failed.

  He knew the Commissariat for Internal Affairs didn’t hesitate to turn a present-tense person into a past-tense person.

  And knew how incredibly cutthroat the key figures were during wartime.

  That’s why the job had to be done perfectly.

  “In other words, pull no punches. Do whatever it takes. Send it back to the Commonwealth without letting it get another scratch?”

  “Exactly, Comrade Colonel. Moskva, the Commissariat for Internal Affairs, and Comrade General Secretary Josef are all hoping that our wonderful foreign friends have a peaceful trip home.”

  Though the true meaning of the political commissar’s ghastly, repetitive exhortations didn’t get through to Colonel Mikel…they were enough to give him a sense of crisis and make him realize how important the mission was.

  In a way, you could say the two of them agreed on something for the first time.

  “I see. I understand Moskva’s wishes very well now.”

  Once the political commissar said that much, what other choice did Mikel have, in the Federation, than to accept?

  In the party, there was nothing higher priority than the wishes of Moskva and Comrade General Secretary Josef. At least he hadn’t been told to die, so he probably wasn’t allowed to complain.

  And so.

  On that day.

  Colonel Mikel stood in front of his battalion and barked, “Comrades, it’s as you’ve heard. Our role is to be guard dogs. Stick close to the ship until it makes it safely home!”

  “““Yes, sir!”””

  THE SAME DAY, IN WATERS NEAR FEDERATION TERRITORY, IMPERIAL ARMY SUBMARINE UNIT DISPATCHED TO THE NORTHERN SEA, FLAGSHIP U-152

  “Colonel von Degurechaff, I realize it’s not my place to say this, but…are you serious?”

  Lieutenant Colonel Tanya von Degurechaff is surprised to be asked such a question so suddenly.

  Crammed inside the cramped U-152 is a mage unit—that is, three companies’ worth of personnel. She thought they would hate being smashed together in the small space, but they consented so easily she hadn’t been paying enough attention.

  She assumed the submarine crew would be cooperative.

  “I’m having trouble understanding the intent of your question, Captain von Schraft. What do you mean?”

  There’s nothing more obnoxious than having your resolve questioned over and over.

  To Lieutenant Colonel Tanya von Degurechaff, a decision is a decision. Once she makes up her mind, even if a terrible god stands in her way, she’ll blast her way through if she has to.

  No. After a moment’s reflection, she gracefully corrects her mistake. If a terrible god stands in my way, I’ll be delighted to blast it to bits.

  “You’re really going to attack the naval base?”

  “That’s what I’ve been saying this whole time.”

  It’s fine for Captain von Schraft to question my sanity. I respect his free will.

  Tanya could argue loudly that he misunderstands her, but she has no intention of interfering with the thoughts and beliefs of a naval officer of the same rank as her.

  That’s what it means to be liberal.

  But. Tanya acknowledges there is one point that her duty necessitates she argue. Things that should be said must be said.

  “With all due respect, Captain, it’s the Supreme High Command and the General Staff’s wishes. I don’t believe we’re at liberty to have an opinion.”

  “You make a good point. I can’t argue with that. But…” He smiles wryly and moves out from in front of the periscope. Then he casually pushes a wooden box into the space. Oh, fine sailors of U-152, when this war is over, you should pivot into the service industry.

  He must have realized the periscope was impossible for a child to look through. That’s just the sort of thing I’d expect from the navy; they appreciate people with their heads screwed on.

  “Take a look at this, Colonel.”

  “…All right.”

  The superior lens is telescopic. The Empire’s optics technology maintains its praiseworthy reliability even in open water in the Northern Sea.

  That said, it’s still just a periscope.

  “Can you see? No offense, but I’m guessing you can’t.”

  Of course, U-152’s periscope is properly maintained and fully functional. There’s just a fundamental limit to what it can do. In reality, visibility is awful and all she can see is a haze.

  “You’re correct. But it’s not just because I had to stand on tiptoe to look?” she asks as she steps down from the irritating box with as straight a face as she can manage. She’s not about to undervalue a specialist’s knowledge and make a decision without getting the opinion of Captain von Schraft or someone on his crew. “I guess I’m hoping maybe a submariner with plenty of experience might have a different way of looking at things…”

  “Sorry, but I must disappoint you.”

  “…So then?”

  “Well, we have confirmation that the princess of the sea is at the base. It’s just that we know nothing else.” How disagreeable of him. He’s just shrugging and saying, Guess they shook us.

  And yet how natural and open. Or perhaps we shou
ld say it suits him. Even if the Imperial Navy is a straitlaced bunch. Or maybe all submarine units are like this?

  For better or worse, submariners aren’t generally bound by convention.

  Well, if they can do their jobs, that’s fine. If they follow the bare minimum of rules, then an outsider doesn’t really have the right to complain.

  “And we don’t know where the enemy is. We submariners like to watch for our chance and then attack. Frankly, we prefer to be cautious.”

  “…What you say certainly makes sense. But the intel we received from the air fleet has proven far more useful than what we got from the joint intelligence agency of the Army and Navy Commands. You could say that now is our chance—we should take the initiative and strike.”

  “I can’t deny that, but they’re probably keeping a close watch.”

  “They probably haven’t even dreamed that mages would sneak over there on a submarine. Sneak attacks are a classic method, but that’s because they’re so useful.”

  Even Pearl Harbor5 was, logically speaking, a huge gamble that never should have worked. Or think of the submarine operations to enter Scapa Flow.6

  To be fair, the British bomber units who, back when the Luftwaffe7 was alive and kicking, broke through the Nazi air screen and harassment-bombed Berlin had commendable skill and bravery.

  And I’m not averse to acknowledging the bravery of the Communists.

  But…they’re making a structural error. The Red Square International Airport Incident is a fine example. We learned this when we attacked Moskva: They’re great at conspiracies, but they’re not always perfect when it comes to the serious stuff. For another instance, there’s the case of Inchon, when the strategic transportation hub that had to be resolutely defended…was not defended.

  “We’ll take the enemy by surprise. It’s an old trick, but that’s how you know it works. Going at them with a traditional method wouldn’t be so bad, would it?” Tanya adds that the best way is the tried-and-true way. “Of course, I don’t mean to look down on the proper, orthodox methods.”

  “I’m sure you don’t. Doing things the orthodox way is best, if it’s possible.”