The conversation continued.
“… Benefactors from different countries and backgrounds got together and pooled their money. So there are multiple research and gathering priorities taking place simultaneously.”
“There will only be five of us? Is that enough man- womanpower?”
“Most of that information gathering will be done automatically. Your team just maintains the instruments for most projects.”
“Have you heard of Svalbard?” Another Benefactor inquired of Stacy.
“Yes. It is an archipelago owned by Norway in the Arctic Ocean.”
“The Zeppelin Observatory?”
“No,” Stacy admitted. “I’m well read, but not that knowledgeable.”
“That is fine. The MMM – a name given by one of your future colleagues – is an airship. Literally a Zeppelin, of course. But part of its function is the same as the original Zeppelin Observatory on Svalbard.
Part of your journey across the world, will be collecting air samples and conducting analysis at different altitudes. In most cases, they can be done randomly. This is a long term project expected to last for decades or even indefinitely, because it is worth collecting data regarding human emissions and air pollution.
Periodically you will be required to land for servicing, resupply and to physically submit the air samples gathered.
So you cannot stay in the same place for too long. And at times, the ship will be controlled remotely.”
“Um, that doesn’t sound very good.”
“No, you won’t be brought to other places. Our control of remote ascent and descent, will be strictly in situ. In the same location, only higher or lower by a few hundred meters. And that will only be if the scientists decide that we need air sampling at different altitudes. Most of this can even be done in the night when you are asleep.”
Stacy was not so sure about having her home and workplace moved without her consent, but it seemed very legitimate. Most of the functions of this airship were already controlled by either the autopilot, or by engineers in remote places. So there was no need to have a large crew on board.
“You should find this ship very comfortable to live on. Far superior to what was available in the days of the Hindenburg,” a Benefactor said. “And all five of you will have your own bedrooms and private offices, so you have not one but two designated personal spaces on board. And unlike the quality of personal spaces in former Soviet construction, these are nearly soundproof and airtight since most internal walls of the airship are made of specialized foam.”
This practical remark was tremendously comforting to Stacy. When asked to join a team, anybody would have concerns about personal space for work and sleep. Being able to work and rest in privacy was a huge reassurance that even if personal frictions developed, one still had control over one’s surroundings.
“What do you want me to do after you’ve rescued me and spirited me abroad?” Stacy asked. “You want me to continue journalism and reporting? Is there some place where you want me to go? Some particular task you want me to do?”
“Not at all. Apart from the general maintenance of the airship and the consistent information gathering, we have no specific agenda for you. We do want to preserve your talents and give you the opportunity to develop – so we will assign you and your teammates Mentors.
Of course, we know that you would like to pick a worthy path. So along the way you will be offered fact finding and analysis assignments and missions to do good things. You can pick or reject the proposed missions; it’s freedom of choice.”
Stacy nodded. It was too early to talk about the missions now. She had to see what she was being requested to do, and also consult with her teammates before making a decision.
“And now, first things first,” a Benefactor said. “Stacy, where do you want the MMM to go?”
…
Where to go…
Stacy considered. She had no future in this country anymore, at least not a public future.
But what about a secret future? If this was a cloaked airship and she and her team had new identities, maybe they could do something good?
Stacy held her hands together in front of her. “I believe my place is here. Not just in the Russian Federation, but within the 15 countries that once formed the Soviet Union.”
“We would like to offer you a way out, but you want to stay here?” A Benefactor asked in surprise.
“Furthermore we had organized a team to work with you. But now the rest of the team also has to stay in this region with you…” another Benefactor complained.
A Benefactor sat forward and pointed his finger at Stacy. “Quality of life is low in this country. Explain why you want to stay here.”
“I don’t know,” Stacy said. “I feel a certain, well… to this country. To do things right.”
Stacy’s voice had grown very small between the ‘well’ and the ‘to this country’. That was because she didn’t have the right word for it.
Was it an obligation?
Was it a sense of duty?
Was it an emotional attachment?
It wasn’t really, exactly any of these. But Stacy knew that this was the region where she could do her best work. She knew the culture, she spoke the lingua franca, she would not stand out. And there were too many stories that were waiting to be told. Too many riddles that had to be solved; too many mysteries that had to be unravelled.
Stacy also had an enigma that she wanted to solve for herself: why the people in her country accepted things as they were, and put up with so much suffering and disrespect and oppression.
Raising her head, Stacy looked straight at the shadows onscreen who represented her Benefactors.
“Not too long ago, a senior of mine in the media industry sought refuge in the USA. Fatima and her son had been beaten and poisoned and threatened repeatedly. It was too much. But although she won refuge in the United States, she really paid a very high price. Her entire livelihood as well as life’s work had been centered on reporting injustices in the Kavkaz region. Now she is depressed every day. She is safe, but can’t do anything in the USA.
I don’t want to be like that.
I’ll rather keep a low profile, travel in secrecy, and continue reporting and investigating in this region. Maybe even contribute to solving some minor local problems.”
There was a pause as the screen darkened. She could still see the silouhettes, but the sound seemed to have been turned off. The Benefactors were talking among themselves.
When the screen brightened again, a Benefactor was leaning forward.
“Anastasia,” the Benefactor said. “Tell me what was the word you were trying to say. What do you feel for this country?”
“I didn’t have a right word,” Stacy said. “So I don’t know why, but my place is here and I know it.”
“This was not what we expected,” another Benefactor said. “And we’re budgetting in a lot of resources – money, skilled personnel and time – to rescue and nurture you and your team.”
“Um…” Stacy didn’t know how to reply to that.
The Benefactors waited for Stacy to say something.
“Truth be told, I feel deeply ambivalent about this country.”
Fortunately another Benefactor spoke up. She said gently: “Anastasia, we can respect and support your decision. We just want to understand why.”
“You’re not ethnic Russian. All four of your grandparents were from different minority ethnicities.”
“You have lots of potential that could be used elsewhere. This country and its institutions and power holding elites all do not have a place for you.”
“You even hold a US passport. You can go anywhere. There’s lots of work to do for brave journalists everywhere.”
…
At that point Stacy spoke out.
“An academic and a journalist goes where there is a story. Where there is something to be uncovered, ugly truth to be told, darkness to be uncloaked. There is much in this country and its near abroad – the countries of the former USSR – where I can work. And not enough people to do it. Not enough journalists and thinkers and people devoted to finding out the truth.”
Because people keep getting killed or intimidated into exile. At least, that was what Stacy thought but didn’t add.
Stacy squeezed her hands together in front of her.
“And I feel that my ambivalence… is right. It’s honest and objective. I have opinions and feelings about other countries, other places, and sometimes my opinions and feelings are proven wrong or change with new information and experiences.”
Stacy looked up at the silouhettes, moving her eyes from one to another.
“But in this land, both Russia and the countries of the ex-USSR together- I have always felt ambivalence. All my life.”
A pause. The Benefactors did not move. They were watching Stacy intently.
“I don’t belong, yet it is part of me…
…Others may call this my native soil, yet I do not fit in anywhere in this harsh, cold land…
…There is so much that is not liked about these lands and their peoples. But I always see an alternative. What it could be. What they could be. What we could be. I do want to tell their stories.”
Stacy paused.
“And hopefully, someone will read, and think. Maybe a new path will be made.”
XXX
Stacy’s heartfelt yet deeply nuanced words seemed to have an effect on the Benefactors. They moved nearer each other and started talking among themselves again.
At length, the conversation ended and the Benefactors returned to their seats.
“Tell us, Anastasia. If you say you are ambivalent, doesn’t that mean you don’t love this country? Why should we take the risk to support your work inside a country that you don’t love?”
“I am a journalist, an academic, a writer,” Stacy responded. “I have to be objective and balanced in my reporting. But I am also entitled to my own private opinion. I can’t love this country and this society as it is now, and I certainly don’t love this country as it was in the past. But I see it can be much more.”
…
There was more conferring among the Benefactors.
…
“Anastasia, we will support you to stay within this country,” a Benefactor stated at length. “There are indeed many dark things that require your energy, talents and attention to shine a bright light on.”
…
“… but she has to stay away from heavily populated areas where she might be recognized. She must keep a lower profile…”
“It would work for this country, and for few others…”
“High latitudes. Lots of low lighting and shadow conditions.”
“And a lot of sparsely populated land and forests where one can park above…”
“She will need to hide quite often. But it’s not that hard to hide here. Most ordinary people are never going to notice. The military is incompetent, secretive and centralized. Even if they notice her, most local security people won’t dare ask questions.”
“How about we accept her here on a semi permanent basis? Let her travel these lands – the lands of the former USSR, plus maybe Mongolia, maybe Iran and its neighbors too, for the next few years. We do have a need for someone who is active and constantly gathering data in these parts.”
“It’ll incur substantial heating* and cloaking costs in these latitudes, but apart from energy costs… nothing too bad. And there’s lots of work to do.”
“… there is the ever present risk that she may be discovered. Her little team will be destroyed if the Russian state makes a full effort to track her down and destroy her.”
“But the potential for her doing good outweighs the cost of fuel by a vast margin.”
“That two hundred million dollar cost is not trivial, even by the standards of our well funded organizations.”
“Most of that cost came from the experimental cloaking. And field testing is necessary anyway. Russia is a good location for this work. You must risk detection by sophisticated modern facilities, before we can consider the field testing to be done well.”
…
“Field testing involves risk of detection by a modern state with a strong air defense network. That’s a real test. You don’t test by flying over Papua New Guinea and laughing at the natives.”
“We do have lots of consulting, reporting, research and investigative work for a roving team in these parts. I’m quite sure I can send her assignments every day.”
“Operating costs may be higher, but fuel is also available cheaply in this country.”
“Where she is doesn’t really matter as much as levelling her up. Making her stronger. Then she will be powerful enough when the time comes.”
“Power… you always think that power solves everything.”
“Regrettably, that is the case. Power does solve everything. That’s why it’s so important to go behind that power. To identify and nurture good people, so that they become more powerful and can use their powers to effect good.”
“Good could be corrupted.”
“That’s why ethical contests and debates are so important. No matter how good somebody is, she must always be tested again and again. Challenged. Questioned. Kept from straying from the good path.”
“Our framework already provides for it. Five people, with different origins and values and preferences. Decisions made on the basis of consensus. Her colleagues will hold her back if she starts to make mistakes.”
XXX
Finally the Benefactors went back to their places. A Benefactor stood up and spoke formally.
“As said earlier Anastasia, we grant you control of the airship. It belongs to the five of you. Of which you are the leader.”
Stacy swallowed.
“What do you expect the leader to do?”
“The leader will set the direction of the airship. The leader determines where your team will go, and choses the work assignments to propose to her team.”
“Oh…”
“We will send proposed assignments to you. But there is no compulsion in taking any assignment. It will be your choice, the leader’s choice, to filter out our many proposed assignments and submit them to your team for consideration.”
“And what do we do?” Stacy asked.
“There are two levels to your work. On one level, it is just analysis, research and producing reports in response to questions or information requests. This is the kind of work that management consultants do in other countries.
Then there are field missions.
Majority vote will decide when it comes to office work. In this your organization is similar to many think tanks, consultancies and research institutes where the members are partners. The boss, the leader, the supervisor offers his team a project. If the partners agree, the group takes on the project. They find information and produce the written work product. They submit it electronically via a secure satellite internet channel.
Field missions require taking risks to attain an objective. These will have to be performed voluntarily. Hence you must take a vote with your teammates before deciding whether or not to undertake a field mission.”
“I’m not comfortable with leadership,” Stacy admitted frankly. “I have always worked on my own when in the field. Why give me this position?”
“The best leaders are those who never get too comfortable with leadership,” a Benefactor intoned wisely.
Stacy said nothing. Another Benefactor spoke up.
“Every promising young person has something to contribute. Your teammates can all be leaders in their own way. And given the fact that everyone has her own field of expertise and talent, everyone can develop tremendously. We even expect you to defer to another teammate’s leadership, or advice, or informed opinion very often.”
“In that case, why make me the leader?” Stacy challenged.
“You must be the central member of your team because of your resistance to mind spells,” the Benefactor said simply.
Another Benefactor spoke up. “No matter how powerful your teammates can become, they will always be vulnerable to enemy attempts to influence their minds. So they must rely on you to protect them.”
…
“You have a teammate with some mild potential for Mind Spell resistance. This teammate will be assigned as your second in command, because if you are incapacitated she is the best person to organize an evacuation, retreat or rescue. But you cannot abdicate leadership responsibility to her, because her resistance to mind spells will still be vastly inferior to yours.”
It all made sense. Stacy nodded.
XXX
The Benefactors went on to discuss practical matters.
“… for the next few days, you should lie low in Moscow. Our colleagues are also speaking to your future teammates, and will finalize a job offer for your group very soon…”
“… but remember, this is cloaked, but still an airship. You can make yourself invisible to other onlookers. But you can never hide the shadow that it casts on the ground. Do be aware.”
“I know. I can’t run from my shadow,” Stacy closed her eyes. “I will always be shadowed by history.”
Then she opened her hazel eyes.
“Shadows will always be with us, but they cannot do anything on their own. They can’t interfere with my actions. So I’ll keep us moving forward.”
“Good. And now it is time for you to name your team. What do you want to call it?”
Stacy lowered her head and assumed a prayer-like posture.
Shadow… we are a group that operates in the shadows…
Somehow the black Rolls Royce Phantom appeared in Stacy’s mind. It was majestic and proud and carried its own identity. And she had failed to see that car just now; it was so well hidden in the shadows.
That Rolls Royce Phantom now summoned visions of yet another car that once represented Stacy’s country. The ZIL.
And ZIL indeed meant Shadow in some languages…
“I will call us the ZIL Organization,” Stacy announced.
And so ZIL came into being. The Shadow Organization.