Verron_Birth of a Nation

by Douglas Varnell

  He began, “My name is Paul Verron. I’m looking for as many people as I can possibly find who want to change their lives forever. It would mean leaving Russia and never returning. I have work for every trade in this area, automotive, ship building, airplane manufacturing, construction and especially farming. There is a country that you have never heard of called Verron; yes it is in fact named after me. On Verron there is no unemployment, no crime, no welfare and no sickness. As hard as this may be to believe, gentlemen, I am at least as old as you or older. On Verron we have the technology to make an old man young, a sick man well, a lame man whole. There is a high moral standard. The people I am recruiting for Verron must be white and Christian or willing to live by Christian based laws, there will be no Muslims or any other religion that does not have Jesus Christ as the Son of God as it’s foundation. There are no drugs, tobacco, or alcohol other than beer and wine. We have the ability to completely remove any desire you may have for those addictions. No one is going hungry and everyone works. I intend to build a Nation like no other and the strongest military in the Universe. What I need are volunteers who will be willing to go to Verron to verify I am not crazy and that it is actually a place that does exist then come back to Russia to help me recruit as many people as you can. I have enough work and housing for all who will come. I chose the two of you to begin my mission since you looked like people who not only would give me time to listen, but would probably know plenty of other people.”

  Father John spoke first, saying, “Paul, if you are not totally delusional then you are a Saint sent by God, and since you’re obviously not Orthodox I doubt you’re a Saint. What can you do to convince us you’re not mad?” Before he could answer, Vladimir jumped in with, “I believe no one who offers deal that is too good to be true. I want see proof.” Paul decided he had nothing to lose, and a great deal to gain, if these two worked out. If they didn’t, then everyone would just think they are crazy if they talked about it. Paul asked, “Can you spare me an hour or two now, I’ll gladly pay you for your time.” Vladimir held up the 100 euro and replied, “This is more than I make in whole day. Two hours is good.” Father John nodded his agreement.

  Paul rose from the table and told them, “If you’ll follow me, you will have the experience of a lifetime.” The two gentlemen rose and followed Paul out the rectory door, except they never made it. Instead they stepped onto the east terrace of the Mansion and were looking at a Red Dragon dead ahead. Vladimir immediately looked behind and quickly realized there was no way back to where he had just come from. Father John stared in amazement at a creature out of Russian and European mythology, the Russian Red Dragon. Vladimir at first thought it was some Disney World imitation, until it opened its eyes and mouth. Paul walked over and scratched his head and said, “This is Zeus. I would like for you to meet two men who believe I’m a liar or crazy; this is Father John and Vladimir. Come over and touch him so you can be properly introduced.” Vladimir was not going to be out done by his old friend John, so he rushed over to touch the Dragon. His eyes flew wide open when Zeus greeted him in Russian. John was only seconds behind Vladimir and crossed himself a couple of times while speaking to a dragon in Russian. While they were still dumbfounded from the dragon, Paul escorted them to the northern overlook to view the Robert’s Range, explaining that Mt. Alene was 80,000 feet high or 129,032 kilometers. He then escorted them to the south side overlooking the bay, the falls, and Capital City. Paul patted both men on the shoulder and asked, “Still think I’m crazy? Follow me, there’s more.”

  He escorted them through the Mansion to the elevators. Everyone was still camping, so he ran into no one, until they exited the elevator at the hanger floor. Hon IV and Ninety-nine obviously where like Paul when it came to camping; they were just climbing out of their Speeders. Hon had painted his a bright green and 99 let one of the Marines convince him to do his in camouflage; aviation camouflage: blues, grays, whites – it would blend in perfectly against the sky during the day. Both smiled when Paul came off the elevator with two strangers and immediately addressed him as King Verron. His two guests asked, “You’re a Czar?” Paul only replied, “I guess you could say I own the entire planet and everything on it. Verron is three times the size of Earth and now has a total population of just over one million. I have lots of room for growth.” Father John paused a moment and choked out, “We’re on another planet. This isn’t some remote area on Earth?” Paul nodded toward Hon and 99 and replied, “If this is Earth, exactly what nationality are they. Come on, I still have over an hour of your time left.”

  He escorted them to his Light Destroyer and as soon as they were seated, flew them across the bay to the roof of the Medical Center. He immediately sought out his head emergency room doctor Ed Meese, who had lost a leg in a motorcycle accident. After introductions were made, in perfect Russian, Ed pulled out before and after pictures. He personally swore that they were not doctored photos, but the real thing. Vladimir took a very close look, as if he would recognize the difference. Paul gave them a quick tour of the Medical Center and headed back upstairs to the rooftop landing pad. He did a slow and low over-flight of Capital City and the industrial park and headed northeast to the Spaceship Factory. His two passengers were enjoying the view as they flew over the Robert’s Range; they looked much bigger up close than they did from hundreds of miles away viewing from the terrace. He once again flew low so they could appreciate the lakes, villas and chateaus in the area. He hovered for a moment to allow both men a birds-eye view of nearly 70,000 spaceships shinning in the afternoon sun. Without the covering over the ships, it was an impressive sight. The Air Force had established a base of operation at the space center and with hundreds of ships coming and going, the place looked busier than O’Hare or JFK. Paul didn’t land, he decided to eliminate the ‘not crazy’ from their thinking. He headed up and away climbing higher and higher until both men began to understand that they were at the highest altitude either had ever been. Paul continued to climb and soon the ceiling above grew dark and full of stars. He headed directly toward Big Red circled it once and headed for home. Both men were speechless; with just moments to spare, Paul landed in the hanger bay at Mountain City. He waved goodbye to 99 and Hon and made a gateway back to the rectory.

  Father John immediately poured himself and Vladimir a large glass of wine. The two Russians sat back down and Vladimir spoke for both of them, “OK, you are no liar. What is it you want us to do?” Paul explained, “I would like to take as many as possible back in a day or two, let them go through the regeneration and rejuvenation process, see more of the planet than you did and those who want to stay, I would ask that they come back and recruit as many as possible to join them; friends, family and coworkers. Like I said, we need miners, factory workers, farmers, ship builders, aircraft technicians, construction workers, masons, and of course with a large number of Russian Orthodox citizens, we would also need Priests. I’ll even build you a new church. You also get a new leg.” Turning to Vladimir, “And you will be healed of that bad hip of yours; do we have a deal? How about we meet two nights from now back at this church? Father John, do you have a problem allowing me to hold a meeting here with your people?” He answered, “I would have it no other way.” Paul smiled and handed them a piece of paper with his motel phone number on it. Just leave a message to call or come see you if there are any problems.” With that, he left the two Russians with their wine and a lot to think and talk about.

  Paul was going to go to Poland and Germany, but since he had a meeting in two days, he decided to check out the area in Nizhny Novgorod Oblast. There were numerous communities along the Oka River. He read that this had once been the most polluted place on Earth. That honor was now given to several locations in China, but this region still made the top ten, mostly because of its chemical business along the Oka in the city of Dzerzhinsk, Russia. For years it had a death rate over 200% higher than the birth rate and was the home of Russian chemical weapons production and research. Pau
l decided to make a visit to the area and see what he prays never happens on Verron. He also managed to take a look at the shipyards and went by Sokol, the manufacturer of airplanes and jets, but could see very little. He thought about making a jump to see the inside of some of these facilities, but knew he would not learn anything and would be appalled by the work conditions these people were exposed to on a daily basis.

  He was walking down a sidewalk headed away from the Sokol facility when he was detained by two Russian Road Police. They weren’t overly rude, but weren’t overly friendly either. They ran his papers through their computer and they checked out fine since Lucy had made certain everything was in order for Paul Von Heis of Amburg, Germany. His passport and visa were returned to him and he was told not to come to this area again. They made it perfectly clear that if he didn’t have any business in the area, he couldn’t be there. When asked where his transportation was, he replied, “I walked.” This disturbed the Police even more, since he was in a very out of the way location. Russian’s being suspicious and paranoid for the most part do not like it when things do not make sense to them. The sergeant in charge declared, “We will give you a ride to your motel. Please get in the car. It is a very long walk.” Paul looked at the Volga and could plainly see the secure backseat that obviously would confine him. He had made himself a promise that he would never be detained, never be cuffed and never give up his weapon if he had one. In the most polite tone he could muster, he told the two police, “I would rather walk, thanks for the offer, but no thanks.” He then turned to walk away in the same direction he had been headed. The younger officer made the mistake of reaching to grab Paul and turn him. In the blink of an eye, both officers were paralyzed by one quick Jxansa Gha pressure thrust. Paul stepped behind them so he would not be in their line of sight and jumped to the other side of the Oka River into an area that looked to be filled with plenty of local pedestrian traffic. The two officers had already soiled themselves by the time the temporary paralysis wore off; obviously angry and embarrassed, they immediately called in for an APB on Paul Von Heis.

  Paul knew there was no point in going back to his motel; it would be swarming with local police and probably Federal Security Bureau (FSB). He decided to go home and sleep in his own bed. It would be easy enough to return for his meeting in two nights. He realized as he stepped out of his gateway and into his bedroom, that he was not very good at clandestine work; he needed to develop a few more skills first. He also realized he had been right about getting other Russians to do the recruiting for him. They would have known that a person isn’t free to walk anyplace he pleases in Russia.

  Those at the breakfast table were surprised to see Paul enter the kitchen. He decided that he needed to unwind more than he needed to eat, he quickly consumed an apple, a banana and bottled water and headed out the door for a run. He desperately needed to take out his frustrations over his stupidity of the day before. The last thing he needed was trouble from the FSB while he was trying to recruit people for Verron. He had taken the level of freedom in the United States and on Verron for granted. He knew now he had been foolish to move around so freely and openly in a country that didn’t know how to be free or open. He was halfway through his run when he began to feel guilty about not spending enough time with the Dragon Guard, his military, his family; those who were doing so much to run Verron. He finally stopped his run and sat down on a cliff overlooking a river valley he had never even slowed down enough to enjoy. All of a sudden he was almost terrified at the prospects of letting down these people who were depending on him, disappointing himself and everyone else. He sat there in tears and cried out to God, “Help me! I feel like there is just nothing left of me to give. I’m doing all I can, but there just isn’t enough of me to go around. I feel like I’m about to explode and everyone I know believes I’m cool and composed. Please Lord; give me strength to go on. I’ve come way too far to let a few stupid mistakes discourage me, but I can’t let these stupid mistakes hurt others. I just want to scream. My world is totally out of control and I’m just getting started on the plans for Verron. So I’m asking You to take it all, because I’ve taken I can handle.”

  Paul sat there a little longer and the Holy Spirit almost floored him when there was an obvious reply, “Who told you that you had to do it all. That’s my job. You simply go and do what I tell you to do, I am the one that makes it all happen exactly as it should; not you. Don’t forget that you’re not God, I AM!” Paul got up and enjoyed the view a little longer with renewed vigor; he knew that none of it was his problem. If God wanted it done, God would get it done, in spite of his mistakes. All he had to do was make certain he did everything he could to be faithful to the One who is faithful to him. The last part of his run was the most enjoyable he had been on in a while. He felt like, in spite of his mistakes, everything was progressing according to God’s plan, not his.

  When he returned to the Mansion he was starving. Ninety-nine made him real hen eggs, bacon, unburned English Muffins and fresh squeezed orange juice. Ninety-nine was shocked when Paul gave him a big hug and told him how proud he was of him, he continued, “Do you realize other than the people from Xhondar, that I have known you longer than anyone else on Verron. You’ve been a really good friend and even more, you’re almost like the son I never had. Strange, considering you’re a few hundred years older than me.” Ninety-nine smiled and sat down with a glass of sweet tea, obviously pleased to have a little one-on-one time with his favorite human. Paul sat a moment, deep in thought then asked, “When we named you 99, we had no idea that you would become such an important part of life here on Verron. It’s a good nickname, sort of like we call Tala “Blade” and Chase “Bullseye”, but you need a real name. If you could pick a name for yourself, what would it be?” He looked contemplative for a moment and shyly replied, “Paul.” Paul loved this guy, but knew that it would be confusing for them both to be Paul, he responded, “Tell you what I’ll do. I just came from Russia; there my name is pronounced Pavel, in Spanish its Pablo. If we used one of those you would still be Paul, it would just be pronounced differently. Which one can you pronounce the easiest?” He tried both and only Pavel sounded intelligible. Paul was shocked that he had learned to make a “P” sound. He continued, saying, “Alright then, I’ll get with Keith Graham to draw up an official declaration of your name. In fact, if I have a birth certificate made for you, you will be the first person officially born on Verron.” Ninety-nine grinned at the idea. Paul continued, “Now, we need to give you a last name. So as of today you are officially Pavel Verron. I’ll have it made official if you like it, or you can pick out any last name you like.” Pavel was shaking his head no; he wanted to be a Verron. Paul realized that since Calanyo was a Verron, he had been a little envious, not completely understanding the concept of adoption. As Paul got up to leave, he gave him another hug and said, “Welcome to the family. How long do you think it will take before everyone knows?” Pavel “99” Verron sped away from the kitchen to look for the rest of the Dragon Guard.

  Paul managed to spend the day with the Dragon Guard the following day, but knew he would have to leave shortly after their workout in order to return to Afonino. He left directly from Jxansa Gha practice to head for his room and a change of clothes. He smiled when he opened his closet. Finding clothes to match was pretty easy; almost everything he owned was black or gray. His brother Joe had been in his room to borrow something a few weeks ago and went into Paul’s closet to find what he was looking for, he came out acting excited and upset, proclaiming, “Paul, there’s been a burglary in the Mansion. Almost everything in your closet is gone except a bunch of ugly black stuff no one would wear. Seriously bro, you’re the richest man on this planet and I’d bet a hundred cronz that the poorest person on this planet is better dressed. People expect their leaders to look successful and well dressed. You own two competing clothing stores, I’m sure with a little effort someone could almost make you look adequate. A haircut wouldn’t hurt either.”
Paul smiled as he put on a pair of black Dockers, a black pullover turtleneck sweater, black boots, and a black leather overcoat. He actually thought about changing, but this had been his image since high school when he used to get sent home for wearing black outfits to school every day and even rode a black motorcycle. He promised himself he would have to break down and get some new clothes, he’d have Zirtouni pick out his clothes; the man always looked like a GQ model.

  He came out of his gateway in Father John’s rectory. Vladimir and Father John were sitting at the same small table where he had left them two days ago, he asked, “Surely you two haven’t been sitting there drinking wine ever since I left. Did you actually go out and talk to people?” Father John smiled and replied, “Sanctuary is full, probably 800 people. That is about all it can hold. We’ve been very busy. Sit down, we need to talk.” Paul grabbed a chair and Vladimir began with a sly smile on his face, “How did you make two Road Police wet their trousers. Every officer in town is talking about it and Sergeant Urich has sworn revenge if he ever finds you. He claims you assaulted two police and resisted arrest while engaged in subversive activities.” Paul laughed as he told them, “Only in Russia is walking down the street considered a subversive activity. He is just upset that I did not accept a ride in his Volga. Did I cause a big problem?” Vladimir answered, “We have spoken to a lot of people. Most will say nothing, but there are some who will try to make money for information leading to you. The FSB has been snooping around and I doubt our meeting tonight will be kept secret.” Paul looked at the two Russians and asked, “Do you think we should cancel the meeting, and try again later? I have no desire to cause these people any grief.” Father John assured him, “The people here want to be here. They are full of hope and want to meet the person we told them so much about. No, we should proceed as planned. But do not be surprised if there is a spy among the crowd or if the FSB and Federal Security Services attempt to cause trouble. Come, they have been waiting for almost an hour. Some people showed up this afternoon. I will not turn them away without hearing you.”