Illuminating the Dark Kingdom

[Nentsia]

Blauhavn - Nerysia

It was crowded with people in the big northern harbor of Nerysia, as a passenger ship had just arrived and had begun unloading. Among the passengers was a Lanlanian middle-aged man, named Jarl Steinsson. Steinsson frequently checked his phones for new messages while waiting in the line before the customs service, as every arrived passenger had his visum and identity extensively checked. The arrivals hall was monitored with CCTV cameras everywhere and heavily armed royal military police officers were casually walking arround the waiting people with dogs by their side, sniffing at people and their bags.

Once Jarl had managed to get through all the security, he pulled over a taxi outside to take him to his hotel. ''So what brings you here? Tourist? Family?'' the cab driver asked in broken Lanlanian. Jarl shook his head. ''Work. But I also like the opportunity to get to know the country a little bit.''

The cab driver seemed genuinely honored that the foreigner was taking an interest in his country. Not many people did. ''Thats good to hear. Here in this city, we have lots of things to see. The cathedrals, the squares, the shore. Make sure you taste our fish as well!''

Jarl smiled. ''I will surely explore the city. Anything I have to watch out for?''

The cab driver hesitated for a moment. ''No, here its pretty good. Nothing can happen to you. Just don't take photographs of government buildings. Some tourists got into trouble for that.''

Jarl nodded. He was aware of that odd rule. Once he had arrived at his hotel, a majestic building looking out over the water, he reached for his phone. No new messages, and no missed phonecalls. Jarl entered the grand lobby of the hotel, lavishly decorated with gold and marble, enormous crystal lamps, and of course a giant portrait of a stern-looking monarch in formal uniform. A lady at the reception welcomed Jarl to the hotel. ''You're room is ready. All we require is your passport, which will be kept in a safe. One of our staff is on his way to take you to your room and carry any luggage.''

Once Jarl entered his room and was left alone, he began to relax a bit. He checked the bathroom, the mini-bar, and the bedroom and concluded that he could get used to such luxury. He walked over to the window, looking out over the sea. He then went to the mini-bar to grab a glass and a bottle of Lomarran wine, and turned on the tv for some background noise. Nerysian TV was quite odd. There were roughly 200 channels, all of them Nerysian. They broadcasted documentaries, ballet performances, a tonne of commercials, movies and game shows. The most peculiar tv programs were their so-called news shows and talk shows.

The news was just an endless list of horrible footage from across Siora about wars, crime, and disasters taking place. It was almost with a kind of sadistic pleasure that Nerysian tv reported on the suffering of people elsewhere on the planet. The talk shows were equally odd. They seemed to start with something light-hearted, like a live music performance, after which they would discuss a more serious topic. This ''serious topic'' was handled by two ''guest'' commentators entering a discussion on subjects like abortion, crime or immigration. One guest was labelled an ''activist'', the other branded an ''expert''. The ''activist'' seemed to be something of a carricature, always taking very extreme stances, acting hysterical, and inviting the boo's from the audience. Opposite to that was a moderate ''expert'', calmly reasoning, applying logic and simply taking the stances that were more or less in line with those of the Nerysian government. So Nerysian talk shows looked a rather staged excercise at ridiculing and mocking the views of the political opposition.

After watching tv for a while, one of Jarl's phones pinged. He had a new message:

''WENCESLAS RD. LEAVE PHONE IN HOTEL''

Jarl knew everything he had to know. His heart-rate took a jump. He dismantled his phones, taking out their chip and batteries, locking them in the safe in his hotel room. The glass of wine he drank from disappeared in his briefcase and he checked the sheets on the bed for any hairs he might have left behind. Having made sure he had removed at least all obvious traces of DNA, he quietly left his room, taking the staircase down. As Jarl exited the hotel, he quickly scanned the environment and parking lot to see if there were any figures observing the hotel entrance, or whether any cars were staking out.

Realizing there were simply too many cars, and too many people in the streets to realistically spot any professional observers, Jarl decided to play a little game. He nearly threw himself, in an act of total recklessness, before a taxi to make it stop and quickly jumped in the car. ''To the central bus station please!''

The surprised and somewhat irritated cab driver nodded, and drove off. Jarl checked the mirrors to see if there was any response from someone, and indeed, some young man who was seemingly just having a smoke and a chat with a lady could now be seen aiming his telephone camera at Jarl's taxi. Gotcha!

[Nentsia]

Jarl Steinsson jumped out of the taxi as soon as it had arrived at the bus station. He ran towards a random bus and jumped on it, noticing that just before it closed its doors, another man got in as well. He looked fairly ordinary, carrying a bag with groceries. But the moment he stepped in, his eyes obviously quickly scanned the entire bus. Was he looking for a free seat? When his eyes came across Jarl, they locked. He was looking for Jarl, not a free seat.

The bus drove away and Jarl took a seat next to an old lady. The man with the groceries sat down in the back of the bus. After three stops, Jarl got up and pretended to be preparing to leave at the next stop. The man with the groceries kept seated. At the next stop, Jarl left the bus, and noticed the man with the groceries then quickly got up and went after him. But he hadn't noticed Jarl re-entered the bus again through the door at the rear part - and stared at his follower who was still standing outside as the bus closed its doors and drove away. Another follower shaken off. How many more to go?

Eventually Jarl got off the bus after it arrived in an entirely different district of the city. It was a rather quiet neighbourhood that didn't look too welcoming. Jarl slipped away through a few narrow alleys, in a bid to evade CCTV. After searching for a while, he found himself an entrance to a subway station and descended underground. He bought himself a ticket to the station that was near Wenceslas Road, where he had to be.

Outside Wenceslas Metrostation, Jarl almost suffered a heart attack as two police officers were standing there with guard dogs. But the officers did nothing when he looked one of them straight in the eyes. They weren't there for him. Jarl exited the station and found himself in the middle of Wenceslas Road, which turned out to be an extremely busy street in Blauhavn.

Now Jarl knew what he had to do from his instructions. This was the road where he had to be. He had been told beforehand to look for a white bench. Jarl spent perhaps 20 minutes walking up and down the long road, before he had found a white bench. It was a small, wooden, white bench past the sidewalk. Behind it were a few trees, and a bronze statue of a medieval Nerysian horseman and knight. Jarl got his photocamera out and took a picture with it from the statue. He then dropped the camera, on purpose, but pretended it to be accidental. As he reached for his camera, his eyes quickly scanned the ground. Ah yes, there it was! Right next to the statue, on the ground, someone had dropped an empty box of cigarrettes. Jarl casually reached for it and put it in his pocket along with his camera. He then quickly moved on and walked around the block. It wasn't until he was away for a few hundred meters that he dared to take the cigarrette package out of his pocket. While pretending to reach for a smoke, he read the contents written on the inside of the empty box. ''Goderic Park, look for a Bishop''.

Jarl entered the nearest tourist shop, and bought a map of the city. He calculated that the Goderic Park was within walking distance. Jarl constantly checked around him if he was being followed, constantly describing the people he saw around him in his head so that he would notice if he described someone twice, or thrice. But no one seemed to be following him. Especially in the Goderic Park, he seemed to be alone. The park was dark, as all sunlight was being blocked - for as far as the clouds didn't already do that. The trees were tall and heavy. The roads going through the park were adorned with enormous - yet somewhat creepy statues on the sides. At intervals of 50 meters there were benches on each side of the road. Some had couples on it, or occasionally an old man. Two police officers with guard dogs were on patrol in the park.

After a while it started to dawn on Jarl that he had to follow the statues and look for a ''Bishop'' among them. The problem was... they were all statues of bishops and priests, martyrs and saints. Hundreds of them. Half way down the park, Jarl realized he had come past at least 8 statues of bishops. He stopped to check his map. He was in the right place. ''Sir Goderic's Park''. He looked right over his shoulder. He noticed he was standing next to the statue of a knight. A sign indicated that this was a statue of ''Sir Goderic...'' ''...Bishop''. Goderic's Park was dedicated to this knight: Sir Goderic Bishop. This had to be the Bishop he was looking for.

''Are you looking for a Bishop, sir?'', an old man asked in Lanlanian as he approached Jarl. Jarl nodded. ''Lets go to my car then.'' The man, dressed in a long black coat and wearing a little grey hat showed Jarl where his car was. It was a cheap, old hatchback.

Once they were safely in the car, and driving, the man began to loosen up. ''You may call me Paul. How was your trip?''

''Oh well, as usual. Most of the time is spent waiting. No troubles. I had to lose a few on my way to you.'' Jarl responded. Paul laughed.

''Don't worry about it. The Lanlanian business man on a working visit cover is so old that they don't fall for it anymore. Every Lanlanian 'business man' gets shadowed thanks to us.'' Jarl wasn't sure whether he should feel relieved with that knowledge.

''But tell me, how are things back in Nyland?'' Paul asked.

''Oh you know. Things are getting a bit tense. Far right is stirring up trouble. The usual.'' Jarl responded. He figured that Paul probably hadn't seen his home country for years.

''Son, let me tell you something.'' Paul then said in a more serious manner. There seemed to be some irritation in his voice. ''I'm glad they sent you here to help me, but I gotta say I was expecting a little more... experienced person. No disrespect, but... you have no idea what's going on here. And I can tell you this, its vile. You have entered the madhouse. I hope you can handle that.''

''So why don't you start telling me, what's going on in this country?'' Jarl coldly responded.

Paul took his eyes off the road and looked at him. ''Im sure you have noticed those police officers and their dogs.''

''What about them?''

''Theyre not real.'' Paul responded.

''What do you mean, not real?''

''Theyre fake. Actors. Not real cops. Theyre paid to pretend to be policing the streets.''

''Why would they do that?'' Jarl asked in disbelief.

''Oh theyre here merely to enforce the illusion of surveillance and security. The real cops in this country never look like a cop. This is the country where no one has seen the head of state alive for the past 25 years. The people know there is a King, but at the same time they don't know whether he really exists at all. But no one would even dare to question his existence. They feel his power around them every single day. Those that do question the existence of the King are, sooner or later, declared insane by their environment and taken to the asylum.''

Jarl thought the man was messing with him. As he looked out of the window, he noticed another pair of police officers in the street. Nothing about them betrayed they weren't real. This country was quickly becoming a lot more strange.

[Nentsia]

Zorog Island - Near the South Pole

Thousands and thousands of kilometers away from Blauhavn, at the other end of the planet, a radio operative was at work in a station located at Zorog Island. Few people had ever heard of this island - located south of Skathia, close to the south pole. Even fewer knew that it belonged to Nerysia. It was a useful island to own for a number of reasons - despite the arctic climate. It served as a transit place for international air traffic trying to reach the south pole. Researchers from other countries such as Nyland or Kazemura would occassionally land on Zorog island before moving on. There wasn't much to do or see here however. Much of the island was so-called ''Restricted Area'', meaning that foreigners were not allowed to enter.

Our radio operator was named Aznas Tevenner. He was an employee of the so-called Trojan Group. Trojan Group was a Nerysian-based private security firm. ''This is Alpha to Foxtrot, do you receive me?''

Aznas listened to the radio message coming in. ''Foxtrot to Alpha: Loud and clear. Proceed.''

Only minutes later, a small black aircraft took off from the island and quickly climbed to enormous heights. As the aircraft vanished in the skies it set its course towards the south coasts of Nyland. For an hour Aznas and a few colleagues had to entertain themselves at their station, surrounded by their equipment and far from their families and home. They played some cards, went out in the extreme cold for a smoke, or watched some TV series they had downloaded earlier. After a while, Alpha made contact again. It was sending them photo's. Images of the sea began to be uploaded - with little light-grey dots visible in it. The crew quickly identitied those as ships. Zoomed in pictures provided with extra details that showed these could be Nylander military vessels. That was up to the experts to determine however. The crew were glad that Alpha was working and sending through its aerial photo's.

Aznas Tevenner reported the operation's status to his boss. For that he had to leave the radio station, face the extreme cold that his parka would only stop for about 30 minutes, and get into a snow jeep to drive to the Trojan Group Building Nr. 14. Once he arrived there, he went through the security checks and crossed the austere, Spartan corridors towards the office of his boss. His boss, Valdrik Velaitis, was a particularly unpleasant man. He was tall, always calm, but always distrusting towards his subordinates. He could be intimidating, and he was manipulative. But no one ever dared to speak evil of Mr. Velaitis. He was not a man you wanted to have a conflict with. This was his island. And here he was king.

''Come in.'' Velaitis said, after Aznas knocked on his door. ''Sit.''

The room was as Spartan as everything on the island. Velaitis had a desk, a chair, and a few screens hanging on the walls that showed him all the relevant information he needed. Aside from a few chairs, he had a little table, a coffee machine (capable of producing only one kind because Velaitis couldnt be bothered to add milk to the machine), and few archives. ''And?'' Velaitis eventually asked, without even bothering to offer Aznas a coffee.

''The operation is active, sir. We are receiving the first images of what appear to be Nylander military ships. Coastguard, probably. We are ahead of schedule. I am expecting the first images of mainland Nyland in 40 minutes.''

Velaitis stared at Aznas with his large eyes. After a moment his face seemed to relax somewhat. ''Good. That is good. Do you have a family... Mr. Tevenner?''

Aznas was somewhat taken aback by that sudden change of subject. ''I ehm. I have a girlfriend in Blauhavn, sir. We plan to marry next year. Is there anything to worry about?''

Again an awkward silence. ''You're good at what you do here. And we like that, at Trojan Group. I like that. We may have a special job for you. But you would have to go and live in Nyland for that.''

Aznas did not know how to respond. What on earth could he be doing for the company in Nyland? He was of much better use here at the island. ''I do not fully understand, sir.''

''You don't need to. Think about it, and go back to work. In due time, I shall ask whether you accept to be stationed in Nyland. Your services to our company will be appreciated wherever you perform them.''

Moments later, Aznas was standing outside the office again. He closed the door behind him, and kept standing there in the abbandoned hallway - rethinking that entire conversation. What was that all about? Stationing in Nyland? How? Where? Just when Aznas wanted to move on, he could hear that his boss was making a phone call. It was muted, but he could hear just enough. ''We are approaching Nylander air space. Tell our Lord that the first images have already come in.''

[Ayzek]

Johannes Air Force Base, Southern Nyland

Johannes Air Force Base was the largest air base in southern island, located in the western valley of the state of Hamnbassäng. It was from this air base that many of the aircraft patrolling southern Nylander airspace took off. It also served as a local node, while under the command of the CONRAD--the Continental Aerospace Defense Command that coordinated the defense of Nylander airspace.

It'd been CONRAD that'd first received word of an incoming bogey. Despite the neutral attitude Nyland and Nerysia took with one another, Zorog Island was nonetheless recognized as a liability. It was consequently under constant supervision by the Nylander Navy, which consistently kept a group of vessels on patrol in the Eastern Marquette Sea. It'd been the destroyer NRS Roosevelt of Task Group 11 that'd detected the launch of the Nerysian spy plane and send word up the chain of command.

Of course, word'd reached Nyland before the Nerysian aircraft did. Still, there was very little sign that such'd been the case. The Nylander Air Force strives to maintain constant vigilance, and even in peace time had AWACS and interceptors in the air.

While the Nerysian spyplane's stealth design made it impossible for the active radar station on Brams Island to get a return itself, passive listeners elsewhere in the region--including the AWACS above it managed to catch the spyplane's tail as it approached Nylander airspace from over the Marquette Sea.

Of course, the Nerysian spyplane flew well above the Nylander fighter's flight ceiling, but the hope was that the Nerysian aircraft would turn back when it realized it was detected. While the Nylander Air Force wouldn't hesitate to do its duty, it'd still rather avoid incidents. Nylander surface-to-air missiles were capable of reaching the spyplane's altitude.

As the Nerysian aircraft approached Nylander airspace, three Nylander fighters on patrol were rerouted to intercept it and a warning was transmitted over the radio: "Attention Nerysian aircraft. This Johannes Air Force Base of the Nylander Air Force. You are on course to violate Nylander air space. Reduce altitude and identify yourself immediately or turn around."