Early the next morning, Angel finished pumping rubber in the gym. Since this was an airship, it was equipped with elastic weights so there was no iron to pump. As Angel passed by one of the shower rooms, she heard singing from within.
Marilyn was obviously enjoying her rain shower.
“Where does a Soviet person go when she dies? To that big K-slum in the sky…!”
Naz showed up at the same time. Angel and Naz looked at each other and swapped crooked smiles. Marilyn could be both vexatious and amusing at the same time.
ZIL members have some fun over breakfast. ZIL Food 004 and Music 004 Hummus mint buterbrot and Kino. If you’d like to read that, please click here. If not, just read on.
After breakfast, the ZIL members sat around discussing furnishing plans as Stacy cleared the table.
“… now just to clarify,” Naz said, “I’m not pushing for anything immediate. We don’t have that kind of money yet. But it’ll be nice to make this place look more homely.”
“Yes, since we’re living here we must customize the MMM,” Marilyn said. “So it looks more like a home.”
“But the problem has to do with home,” Angel said. “Not everyone has the same idea of what it means to be homely.”
This conversation is continued in ZIL Vote 004 Rug Rationale Rejected. If you’d like to read that, please click here. If not, just read on.
The airship MMM sailed over the Russian countryside.
It was a pleasant day, and the land was also quite flat. And this was in the vicinity of the Ugra National Park, not a populated place. They weren’t worried about the MMM casting a shadow that raised suspicions. So they flew relatively close to the ground – only at 100m altitude.
There had been a bit of discussion where to go next.
“We can’t go east, since that leads to the Moscow region,” Marilyn said.
“Since you are the pilot, what do you suggest?”
“Let’s go north,” Marilyn said. “Pieter might be promising.” Marilyn used a common shorthand to refer to St. Petersburg.
“Pieter is prejudiced against Central Asians,” Angel warned. “I read a lot, and a lot is reported. Haven’t you heard of Khursheda Sultonov? She was nine years old when eight thugs murdered her!”
“How about West?” Riley liked the idea of going nearer the Baltics. And she also thought west might be a bit more friendly, since Marilyn had looked deflated.
“West is Velikiye Luki. Best to stay away from there until we are more familiar with our airship,” Naz said.
“Huh?”
“It’s an important railway hub connecting Riga and Moscow. And they’ve got an airport. So might be a problem for us?” Stacy asked.
“No, it’s because Velikiye Luki is a major ballooning hub. There are annual competitions, and some people may be practicing their ballooning now that spring is here. We might get detected, and people are sure to talk.”
“Well then, let’s go south.”
Nobody objected, so Marilyn set the airship on a southerly course from Rzhev.
ZIL had only been on the fully fitted airship for a few days. So everyone was still in ‘try out new stuff’ mode. They eagerly took advantage of the viewing galleries and ports to watch the countryside passing below them. As a result there were multiple pairs of eyes on the ground when Angel saw something.
“That truck looks funny.”
“Can’t be. It’s unnatural,” Stacy commented.
Angel called out across the ship to the viewing gallery on the other side where Riley and Naz were observing the countryside.
“You’re right. It looks like trouble,” Naz said.
“They overshot in some manner, and are now hanging over the side of the bridge.”
Without any explicit agreement, the remaining three of Stacy’s colleagues came to join her and Angel.
“This looks bad.”
Most of Russia has terrible infrastructure, and there is a vast number of structures which have not been maintained since Soviet days. This was probably one such bridge. It looked as though rust was going to claim it soon.
A midsized truck had busted through the railings on the side, and was now hanging precipitously over the river.
And the river below didn’t look good. Because it was now spring.
“I remember this,” Riley spoke out. “This is the Ugra river.”
“You remember your lower secondary geography?”
“Not all that well. But my parents taught me: remember your country. I made special effort.”
“…” Marilyn was looking nonplussed. She thought Riley’s family hated the Soviet Union.
“This used to be Lithuanian territory,” Stacy explained helpfully to everyone.
“It’s still pretty close to Moscow,” Angel said in surprise. “You mean Poles and Lithuanians occupied it during their wars with Muscovy?”
“No. This region was the easternmost part of Lithuania at the Union of Krevos. When Poland and Lithuania got married. Literally. The Moskalis – sorry, I mean Muscovites – were still kissing Tatar asses at that time.”
“All right, so do you remember anything else about the geography?” Stacy asked. She wanted to turn the topic away from Tatar asses. A major Russian victory had once taken place on the Ugra – the Great Stand on the Ugra River. This victory was a turning point in Russian history because it marked the end of Muscovy’s vassalage to Tatars. Some other ethnic groups might say it was the beginning of everybody else’s problems in Eurasia.
“The Ugra,” Riley pointed. “Is at peak flow in April because of snowmelt. It’s flowing fast and high now.”
“No doubt about it, we gotta help,” Naz said.
“Let’s grab some ropes and chains and all go in the Lada,” Riley said.
“Arvoh? Why Arvoh?”
“Yes, Riley. That’s a truck. We need more than just one Lada – BMW Z4 I mean. Birrak would be a great help towing that truck to safety.”
“I agree. But we also have to consider our own safety. A Rolls Royce is already too unusual a sight in rural Russia. And a Rolls Royce with several women inside who help people? We will be talked about!”
“That truck can’t be pulled to safety without some serious horsepower. Birrak has far more than Arvoh.”
“6.75 liter engine versus a 2.0 liter, 454 hp vs 255hp. Birrak is more likely to be able to save the day.”
“More than that,” Naz corrected Marilyn. “Birrak has torque at around 720nm, while Arvoh will be around 250nm of torque. You need more torque in towing. And Birrak also has superior tyres, which are crucial because we need a lot of towing strength at low speed.”
Naz knew more about engines than anyone else in the team, so her opinion was accepted. But Riley was still concerned about using a Rolls Royce to tow people to safety. It was too unexpected; too unusual a vehicle in the Russian countryside. And rich and powerful people who helped poor truckers were just as unusual…
Everyone was now tense. Should they debate the matter? But time was running out.
Stacy spoke up.
“I say we vote on this. We must decide whether to take the risk of using Birrak, because it’s going to be obvious. Someone may talk, and if Moscow starts hearing, they might be able to put one and one together!”
“Sounds like you are also opposed to bringing Birrak into the open,” Riley said.
“I’m ambivalent,” Stacy returned. “It’s taking a serious risk, which is why we should submit this to a vote.”
“You’re mainly afraid that Birrak will be seen and draw unwanted attention?” Naz asked. Riley nodded.
“Then we have no problem at all!” Naz announced.
Everyone looked at Naz, surprised.
“Because of a simple, maskirovka cover that can be erected over Birrak within twenty seconds!” Naz explained.
“This can’t be! How do you do it so fast?”
“It was already here on board in the garage, folded against a wall,” Naz said as she led everyone to the garage. “I just didn’t understand what it was meant to be used for originally.”
Naz brought out the maskirovka covers. Everyone helped and quickly the covers were unfolded and placed on Birrak.
“Doesn’t seem to fit,” Riley remarked.
“Oh, wait, I got it,” Naz opened the door and pressed a button inside. Birrak rose twenty centimeters.
“Fits.”
Now Birrak looked vaguely like a ZIL-130 truck that someone had made custom modifications to.
“Wow, we’re ZIL, and this is also a ZIL,” Marilyn marveled.
The amateurish appearance of the cover even made for very good cover, since many rural and small town Russians modified their vehicles in creative yet unfinished ways. The ZIL Organization could now look like a bunch of young punk women going on a country tour in their self-modified ZIL truck.
“Let’s go!”
…
And so four girls driving a custom ZIL truck and one girl in a Lada came along and pulled the endangered truck to safety. The elderly farming couple who owned the truck were very relieved, and gave the girls some fresh produce. The girls were even nice enough to insist on paying for the produce.
In a multiracial, multilinguistic country like Russia, all five girls looked unexceptional enough to be forgotten after a while. So ZIL’s good deed did not draw attention. Exactly as what the ZIL members sought.
XXX
“Let’s visit Vyazma!” Naz announced suddenly.
“What…”
“Do we need something?”
Marilyn was sitting in the driver’s seat of Arvoh. She grabbed a book of maps and flipped about.
“It’s the nearest town to where we are now.”
Marilyn would know this, because as the MMM’s pilot she always had to be aware of the airship’s location.
Angel had a slightly aloof look on her face. “The Russian countryside is not bad, but I don’t think we have a mission or purpose.”
Angel wasn’t that keen on visiting small town Russia because some locals might not be nice to her.
Stacy had an inspiration. “It must be the sunk cost factor,” she said. “Naz, are you thinking of driving around and doing some sight seeing, since we’ll need to wash the cars anyway?”
“That’s true,” Naz said. “I think it’s a nice day and we could just go for a joyride in these parts. No matter what we’ll still need to wash the cars before returning to the MMM.”
Angel started thinking. “Vyazma… Vyazma… where have I heard of that name before?”
“I know!” Marilyn raised a hand eagerly. “I remember my Pushkin! He said that Vyazma is famous for its pryaniki!”
At the mention of the pryanik, Riley laughed out loud.
“Naz! So you just want to eat some sweet stuff!”
“No, no, hey!” Naz protested. But not too strongly.
And now Stacy figured it out. The pryanik is a kind of sweet baked goods eaten by Eastern Slavs. And Vyazma pryaniki are famous.
“Vote?” Angel asked.
“How about asking if anybody objects?” Riley asked. “I could do a bit of sight seeing.”
Marilyn had a sly look on her face. “You want to do sight seeing in rural Russia now, Riley?”
Marilyn didn’t add: “touring the former easternmost regions of your country?”
Stacy wondered if Riley might want to say no, but Riley nodded.
“I’ve not been around Vyazma before. But it also has important memories for me.”
Riley’s cryptic words mystified everyone but Stacy.
“You stopped by Vyazma, but never got off, right?”
“Yes. It was on the way home.”
Home, meaning on the train route between Moscow and Vilnius. When Riley’s family returned to Lithuania, they had taken the Trans-Siberian Railway to Moscow. And from there to Vilnius, passing by places like Vyazma, Smolensk, Minsk and so on.
The young Riley would have been eagerly counting down all the stops they passed. Monitoring all the distances and names. So she remembered Vyazma.
Since Riley and Naz were interested in checking out the city, and the others had no further objection to explore small town Russia, they drove to Vyazma.
…
Fifteen minutes later they arrived at an outdoor market. Everyone decided to wander around a bit. Oh, and also purchase indoors footwear that they liked.
…
Riley was watching everyone.
Truth be told, Riley had been wondering about her teammates. She was cautious. Lithuanians’ experience with being part of the Soviet Union – as well as being in contact with the many different ethnic groups that made up the USSR – had been very poor. Riley was willing to try out new experiences with new people, but she had serious doubts about where they might lead her.
So now she was just watching how each person’s personal style influenced her movements.
Firstly there was herself, Riley. Riley found crowds somewhat disturbing, because she did not like to bump shoulders. She always had to make extra effort to avoid jostling or being jostled, all of which might lead to confrontation. So she chose to walk in less trafficked areas and watch the others from her location.
Then there was the opposite, Angel. Angel went through the crowd like a bulldozer, pushing and jostling her way in a manner that suggested confidence in her strength and ability to deal with any conflicts that might erupt. On one instance Angel pushed her way past a large, aggressive looking man. The man looked displeased, but when he turned around, he apparently liked how Angel looked from the back with her short cheerleader top, because he said nothing and continued gazing while a different kind of expression appeared on his face.
And there was Naz. Whether Naz was acting out her mechanical engineer’s training and instincts, Riley did not know. But Naz seemed to have an idea of how the mechanisms of the crowd worked. She could predict how people might move, and did not come into conflict with anyone. Even though Naz never stopped for anyone either.
And Marilyn!
Marilyn was different in every way, Riley thought. Right from the start she didn’t look like most Uzbeks. And her smiley expression was completely different from the serious faces that Russians and also Uzbeks generally displayed in public. Examples of which were everywhere in the marketplace right now. Marilyn went around smiling brightly at everyone as though she had mental problems.
At this point Riley had no way of knowing whether this was just a tactic to keep others away. But if it was a tactic, it worked. People avoided Marilyn, allowing her to move freely without anyone approaching her too closely.
But the most interesting by far was Stacy.
Riley could not help looking at her leader from time to time, trying to understand this person.
Stacy seemed to want to give nobody trouble.
She moved gently and with dignity, contrasting with Angel’s brash movements. Yet she was not evading anyone like Riley, nor was she predicting movements like Naz. Sometimes Stacy stopped to let others pass. She readily gave way to other people. But whereas most Russians would take that as an acknowledgement of someone’s inferior status, when Stacy did it she seemed to be the one with higher status. Graciously demonstrating what it meant to be refined and respectful of others.
It wasn’t anything intrusive or prideful. But more like a quiet self esteem that came from within. It didn’t need any approval from the government or overt displays of conspicuous consumption to buttress.
Stacy also smiled a lot more than most Russians.
There was a regal nobility to her when she smiled.
In Russian culture smiling was looked upon as a sign of unusual well-being. Ordinary people were not expected to smile. What made Stacy so unusual, was that she lacked any exceptional wealth or power or athletic ability, yet she was able to smile and make it look natural. She exuded positivity to others, as though she was extolling them to be better people with every step she took.
Or was it that Tranquility Aura at work? Riley didn’t know. Riley knew that she was still young and inexperienced, and there was much she didn’t know about magic and auras…
Whatever, this was indeed an unusual woman.
If there was ever going to be some exotic Kavkaz drama made about a princess from some random southern Kingdom, Stacy would fit the role nicely.
…. but Stacy’s eyes disqualified her… it would not be politically correct so Riley kept that thought to herself.
XXX
A Conversation takes place here: ZIL Conversation 004: On Hadidas, Alcohol and Czars. If you’d like to read more, click here. If not, please read on.
The link will become active by end February 2023.
When the ZIL members had walked about a bit, they gathered under a tree on the edge of the outdoor market. Riley came over just in time to hear some ZIL members talking about getting clothes to look more low profile.
“Let’s get one Hadidas tracksuit each. We’ll look like authentic gopnitsa,” Naz said happily.
“Surely you mean Adidas?”
“Does this outdoor market look like a place where you buy German branded products? No, it’s Hadidas, the genuine knockoff. Made by our socialist friends in China.”
Stacy put a smile on her face, but she really did not want to dress like a gopnitsa. In any case she had a substantial chest, and no big muscles. Dressing gopnitsa would really make her look like a gangster’s moll.
Angel and Marilyn had no such psychological barriers. It was perfectly normal for well behaved young people in China, Mongolia and Korea to wear tracksuits, and probably this rubbed off on Angel and Marilyn in their neighboring countries.
“Riley, are you going to get anything to wear?”
“I have different tastes. Uh, I think, what they call in the United States. The New England look?”
“Is the word you’re looking for, Preppy?”
“Maybe…” Riley winced. “I want to look respectable. Professional. Boring. North European Middle Class. Not like I belong to some shadowy, subversive spy organization.”
“We are a shadowy, subversive group,” Stacy gave Riley a huge smile. “And since we’re gathering information and data, it’s also spying in a way.”
“I don’t think I’m going to get any suitable clothes at this market,” Riley confessed.
“Won’t hurt you to walk around and look,” Stacy said. “And I intend to buy a few inexpensive light summer dresses. Need to cover my bunny outfit bodysuit in public. Can’t possibly go everywhere in my coat all the time after April.”
…
“Here,” Naz handed Marilyn and Angel each a packet once they were dressed in Hadidas outfits.
“What’s that?”
“Sunflower seeds. No Ukrainian gopnik is complete without them.” And Naz proceeded to squat down, then take out a seed. She flicked it two meters into the air and caught it with her mouth coming down.
“I’m gonna try that too,” Angel said. “I bet I can flick it much higher with my Strength attribute.”
“Ah, but I have practice. Besides, this is a mechanic’s thumb,” Naz made a thumbs-up gesture. “I’m used to playing with heavy tools in the workshop.”
“You can flick, but can you catch?” Marilyn was all smiles. “I’m good at this. Always beat my relatives playing this game with apricot seeds!”
“Ah, but sunflower seeds are smaller!”
In the end Angel, Marilyn and Naz were squatting around, eating sunflower seeds while waiting for Stacy to be done. Actually they were probably littering by the standards of some countries. Since they took turns flicking sunflower seeds, and trying but sometimes failing to catch the falling seeds with their mouths. If this was Singapore, they would probably be arrested, fined and made to clean the public streets as punishment.
After a brief walkaround confirmed her prejudices, Riley bought a random pair of slippers that did fit her better and returned to Angel, Marilyn and Naz. She stood by, refusing to squat much less wear a tracksuit.
“We’re in provincial Russia, not Stockholm. Blend in,” Naz offered.
“The gopota look? No way!” Riley responded. Looking like a low status Russian – gopota, gopnitsa or gopnik – was the last thing any sane Lithuanian wanted.
“Well, you could try blending in in other ways.”
“If you tie a pillow around your waist, you could put on a militsya outfit and pretend to be police. That’ll look very provincial Russian,” Marilyn grinned.
“No matter what, a tall beautiful blonde in office dress won’t look provincial. Go put on a farmer’s headscarf or something,” Angel offered.
“You would look great in traditional Ruthenian dress,” Naz said. “Your features really look the part. And this is a good place to buy such Rus-tic stuff. Pun intended.”
Riley knew her teammates were well intentioned, but this was so exasperating. She retreated from the three poddelka (fake) gopnitsa. Then Riley saw a couple of policemen entering the area using her peripheral vision. She immediately disappeared behind a tree.