- AD -

A classic Evropan car, shiny black with accents of gold, slowed down upon approaching a heavily guarded barricade. A soldier approached the halted car, his assault rifle at the ready, his black military uniform covering him completely, and motioned the driver to come out.

The door opened, and a slender old man stepped out, his icy eyes reflecting the cold, almost sterile feeling of the snow-covered mountainous area. The guard stepped back in surprise, and letting his gun fall to his side, immediately saluted then bowed.

“Mr. Redspear, please forgive me for this rude welcome. I did not expect your visit.”

“Don’t be silly. Security is of a paramount importance no matter who’s visiting. You may be at ease,” Randall ordered the soldier.

The soldier somewhat relaxed, then looked at Randall, unsure how to proceed.

“Well? Aren’t you going to search the vehicle?” Randall exasperatedly said. “I won’t appreciate you slacking off security procedures.”

“Yes… Yes, sir!”

Randall sighed, and while waiting, looked at the mountain range spreading all around him, shielding whatever laid beyond the barricade from outside curiosity. A road large enough to accommodate the incessant traffic of heavy trucks, their beddings filled with rocks, ran parallel right beside a smaller, sinuous, and at times treacherous, road. That small road was the only way in for non-workers; and only the most courageous ones would dare to even think of driving through.

Here, isolated from the comfort of the outside world, laid the world’s foremost magnetite open-pit mine… or so was the official façade.

“All clear, Mr. Redspear,” the soldier nervously announced, stepping back.

Without a word, Randall entered his car, and the soldier signaled the remaining guards to open the barricade. Randall followed the sinuous road, slowly encompassed on both sides by carved cliffs through one of the mountains. Brighter light ahead announced Randall that he was arriving at his destination, and within a few more hundred meters, the walls of stones stopped abruptly, and before him laid a breathtaking scene. The mine spanned nearly three kilometers wide, and delved six hundred meters below the surface, the monstrous industrial machines working the rocks and soil looking tiny in comparison. Strips of earth were ripped in concentric circles, an eternal fine smog enveloped the scene, the dirt particles kept in stasis by the mountain shields and build-up localized pressure.

Randall stopped at the nearest building, where the road ended at a fence that protected the foolish wanderer from an eight hundreds meters deep cliff. Upon getting out of the car, the cold pierced through his body; but it was nothing compared to the deafening sound of the mine that hit Randall, and he fought the desire to cover his ears. Ysadora had already scolded him many times for coming here without bodyguards in an isolated military-owned facility, that he wished at least to counter her scoldings by being on constant alert.

More guards ran to intercept him, and in the rear, he recognized the man he wanted to see. Nonchalantly raising his hands to show he was unarmed, he was nonetheless relieved to hear a deep grumpy voice rise above the noise.

“At ease, soldiers; let him through.”

The soldiers immediately settled on each side of Randall, forming a line; a tall and heavily built man walked to him, his thick eyebrows, bushy mustache, square features, and deep set brown eyes giving him a distinctive authority figure. He firmly shook Randall’s hands, and his grave voice boomed, his Schwyzryvan accent making his words sounds guttural:

“Mister Randall Redspear. You are a madman to come here dressed as a city boy. I’m tempted to lengthen my welcome to give you a good lesson about respecting your environment.”

“Maybe I was expecting you to cut to the chase, Feldmarschall Johann Teiwas. You know that I don’t like to waste time.”

“I know, I know. Follow me,” Teiwas smirked, leading Randall into the building.

Setting down a steaming cup of coffee in front of Randall, Teiwas sat down across the table, and stared down at the old man.

“So. What does this infamous visit mean, Randall?”

“What do you think?” Randall retorted.

“Well… you’ll be glad to learn that this year, we’ve increased sixfold our magnetite output; our current yield is eleven metric tons...”

“You know very well I’m talking about Project Vymana,” Randall cut sharply.

Teiwas laughed.

“Impatient as ever. I imagine you don’t want to drink my coffee, and would rather like to go down to the hangar?”

“I invested in it, and I pay all of you for that. So yes, I expect to see the result of my investment,” Randall coldly replied.

Teiwas sighed, and rose, Randall following.

“Come with me, then.”

Randall stepped to the back door leading to the mine’s site, but a strong hand held him back. Suddenly, a thick woolen coat was thrown around him, and Teiwas stepped in front to open the door, smiling widely.

“Don’t want my investor to die from bronchitis,” he smirked.

Randall glared at him, and Teiwas laughed, leading him to a white camouflaged Willy.

The vehicle began the descent of the six hundred meters depth of the mine, and Randall looked at the massive operation running all around. There was no question as to why the site was officially off-limits: it was a playing ground for some of the biggest and most monstrous-sized machines ever created. Bucket-wheeled excavators the length of a dozen industry-sized tractors dug into the earth as if it was flour. A machine that Randall recognized as a vibrating hammer would simply lay down its gigantic hammer on top of a boulder, and within seconds of faster-than-the-eye vibrations, the boulder would fall apart. A different kind of excavator, this one like a monstrous drill, flew right into the mountain flank, leaving afterward an unbelievable sight of a hundred meter wide hole into the granite wall. Dust and particles covered the scene with a permanent fog, and the sun barely pierced through it, leaving the mine in a perpetual icy setting.

“Here we are,” Teiwas announced after a few minutes of driving, passing through a fence flanked with danger warning signs.

Driving around a looming bucket-wheel excavator, mercifully shut down, the Willy stopped before a towering granite flank. Teiwas pushed a button on the dashboard, and then swept the radio button, as if looking for a station. But instead, after some time, the granite wall slid inward, a two-hundred meter wide stone door, and Teiwas drove through, the door sliding back to a smooth surface once the vehicle disappeared.

The car stopped, and Randall climbed out, looking around the massive hangar.

“There it is, as per your orders. An unprecedented collaboration between the Twelve Imperial Gnasci: Project Vymana,” Teiwas presented.

Randall looked upon the innumerable rows of military weapons spreading before him into the darkness of the caverns dug deep beneath the mountains. Planes, tanks, ships, submarines, artillery, cannons; even experimental vehicles and weapons that Randall had never bothered to look into, but knew nevertheless of their existence.

“Is it completed?” he asked.

“No. I’d say that this still represent merely sixty percent,” Teiwas calculated.

“I do hope no one knows of it,” Randall mused, looking at the enormity of the project.

“The Gnasci Convention forbade its disclosure, and the whole process has been done in the utmost secrecy. Even if done for a just cause, no government wants to officially announce how or to where it got rid of most of its military.”

“How is the transport executed?”

“At the other end of the mountain range, through White Peak. A similar doorway to the one we’ve just taken has been created there as well, and the tunnel links to here. Along the way, seventeen doors have been prepared, in the event that the main gate is breached and the tunnel discovered,” Teiwas explained, his usually expressive face now showing an enigmatic expression. “The rest of the transport executed by the individual Gnasci are done via their own private tunnels and subways. Sometime, they are forced to stage an accident or a failure, in order to close the roads to the public.”

“Any leaks?” Randall asked.

“None so far. Beside, my ears have reached rumours about leaks being swiftly dealt with by someone other than the military,” Teiwas said, his eyes gleaming mysteriously as he looked at Randall.

Randall merely smirked at the hidden meaning.

“Then I trust the remaining forty percent will be here in a timely delay?”

“Absolutely.”

“That’s all I need to see,” Randall said, walking back to the Willy, Teiwas following.

“It still feels impossible to think that the Twelve Imperial Gnasci have accepted to give up their military powers, and to keep only what they need to protect themselves. What kind of man are you to request from the higher-ups such a titanic prowess?” Teiwas asked as they drove back up the mine.

“I merely pointed out the uselessness of such a power in the future to come,” Randall simply replied.

“Still… It makes me nervous,” Teiwas said, his enigmatic face still contrasting with his earlier cheerfulness.

“You’re an old dog that knows only one trick, Feldmarschall,” Randall retorted. “You lack the finesse to understand the deeper levels of war and control.”

“Maybe,” Teiwas conceded. “And to think you chose Schwyryva’s mountain range to hide all that armada. Don’t you have mountains back at your Uni-states?”

“The citizens have been made aware that such military hideouts existed, as per the purpose of our plans. But no one bothers about Schwyryva, even though the most powerful entities of power are located here.”

Teiwas sighed.

“Your war is too complex, Randall. Me, I prefer the good old-fashioned way. Demonstration of power, and adequate use of it.”

“As I’ve said: an old dog with an old trick,” Randall smirked.

Teiwas smiled in return.

“Sometime, the old trick is the best one. Don’t fix what ain’t broken, as you Americani say.”

Randall merely kept smirking. The Willy returned to the entry building, and the two men got out.

“A cup of coffee to warm you up, Randall?” Teiwas suggested.

“No thank you,” Randall said, sliding off the heavy cloak and handing it back to the Feldmarschall. “Keep up the good work; as I’ve said before, I will make sure to generously repay your loyalty.”

“And always trust in a Feldmarschall’s loyalty, Randall Redspear,” Teiwas answered, heartily shaking Randall’s hand, then saluting.

Randall turned on his heels without any more words, and rejoined his black car. The soldiers saluted as he left, the mine hiding its secrets within the mountains. Randall checked the clock and was pleased to see he was still perfectly within schedule.