Senator Thorpe closed the door to his study, locking it lest his children once more tried to get inside for a looksie about what daddy was up to. He had no idea politics would look anything like this. He should have stayed at the university, waited out his tenure and just retired in whatever remained in the blighted remains of the United States. It was as he poured himself an aged wine he noticed that the light was on, without him having turned it on when entering. Thoughts raced through his brain, paranoia over this being some retribution for the (at the time seemingly innocent) comments he made during all those fucking meetings. He flopped onto the desk, reaching in the drawer with the gun in it before flopping yet further onto the ground, looking around for whatever intruder might have been there. After he started coughing from all the floor dust he brought up spinning on the ground, he at last got up having not spotted any sign of intrusion. He got up, opening the door and peering out to find his wife asking him what had caused the ruckus. After muttering some explanation about tripping on a sticking floorboard he once more shut the door, wiping his brow with the conclusion he simply must have left it on the night before. That was until his hand lowered, and he found a beaming woman in his chair. He tried to scream, but as she cocked her head to one side he found himself unable. It was only after the third attempt that he gave up, prompting a nod from her. “Who the fuck are you.” He finally said. “A friend.” The man groaned, putting his hands to his head. “Cut to the fucking chase, please my fucking God I don’t have the patience for this.” She sighed. “They told me you people love this shit. Alright. I represent a special interest group that can see the troubles your country is going through. We have solutions.” Senator Thorpe’s mind races. Special interest group? Could be just about anyone. “Who?” “You’re on the West Coast, who the fuck do you think?” “I’m not a traitor.” “We’re not asking you to be. Quite the opposite. Keep doing a great job! It’ll make us look all the more credible when you become a governor.” “You got to be fucking kidding me. Think I’m going to risk anything on the off chance commie fucks take over this place?” She laughed. “I thought you wanted to cut to the chase? I can kill you where you stand, your family, your children, and destroy everything you’ll be longing for in whatever hell you’re sent to.” Once more the Senator found himself unable to perform the movements he wanted. The hand bearing his pistol simply could not rise, and if anything dropped to the ground. “Pick that up, bring it to me.” she demanded, and once the order was completed continued with “thank you.” Holding the gun she inspected it to ensure it was loaded, before putting it on one of the handles of the chair. “Not sure yet if I’ll kill you if you decline, still have the night. I don’t actually like it you know, I’m not an evil bitch. Still have time to be ordered to spare you and all. But the chaos your death would make is probably a lot more useful to the Union. So, before you try to make some grandstand sacrificing yourself and your family to avoid the horrible fate of a cushy desk job, think about all the things you’re standing for now. You’re all about the big old nuclear WASP family, but when’s the last time you’ve seen a little cluster of bright eyed kids playing happily? Save your own with that negro mistress, I’m sorry, maid you have? When’s the last time you had a vacation that was shining with equatorial sun instead of Langium?” She held out a small receipt to sign. “You’ve got like, ten seconds before I shoot you. I’ve got some fucking teenagers to give guns to.” [hr][hr] Proctor Yesenin strode down the corridor, fuming. He wanted to say “what is the meaning of this”, or “who do you think you are?” to all these bureaucrats stomping about his university. But he didn’t want to be laughed at in his own office. Nevertheless, he made sure to ask very pointed questions until he was at last lead to the lab where all the attention was pointed. Arriving there, he raised an eyebrow, spotting the acne covered intern… Vadim? Vladimir? Something with a V. Valeriy! He was surrounded by important looking men in suits, men who weren’t wearing any safety equipment and did not belong here and who’s importance wasn’t enough to justify their intrusion. “Professor!” The student exclaimed, motioning for him to come over before running close himself. “What have you done?” Yesenin demanded, assuming some sort of crime had transpired to warrant the presence of people from without the university. “Well, I just took the new Langium samples and well….” It was pure accident. The boy had somehow through luck in playing with a great many artifacts created the first ever observed tachyon. The explosive results described to him certainly explained all the new lab equipment that replaced the rusting pieces from the 70s. Slowly, the conversations that circled around him turned into a feint ringing. Government men were now ordering him around, he who so desperately avoided the subject of scientific communism from corrupting his pure place of science. A fat general strode in, discussing moonbases and deep sea submarines to tap into the rare artifact deposits that would hold the means for more of such particles to be investigated. Yesenin felt sick. This was a place of science, one unfettered by the organized chaos that was the Soviet Union’s bureaucracy and governance. A single youth had changed it to now be a place to further the geopolitical goals of the nation’s elites. For long the Soviets had eyed all other scientific efforts with suspicion, ensuring that the ancient research apparatus of the Union published papers with more [REDACTED] than UFO documents from the 40s. Now he felt it was going to get worse. The Professor had considered using the communist arguments of internationalism and solidarity to protest this, but he knew that at best he would received auditoriums of laughter. Defection briefly entered his brain, but he knew he couldn’t get his whole family abroad. All that was left was to try to turn young minds like the young Valera on a better path.