I know that men once governed Russia. It is a secret the women keep from us, but in the basement of my office building I’ve found paper records with orders signed and executed by an organization of men -- military men, men with power. If I asked the supreme commander about this I suspect she would tell me that these records are from the dark ages, the time before the silent curtain, generations before I was bred, when Russia nearly collapsed under its own weight. No doubt she would tell me that what I have found is merely proof positive that men are not fit to rule.
The organization’s acronym was KGB. Clearly from the mission files I’ve read, the KGB was a forerunner to the black ops I now command. I am the first man since the Butcher of Bejing to control such a prestigious operation and, as every one in the inner circle will tell you, I got my job by f***ing supreme commander.
I would love to deny that charge, but I can’t. Men have so few avenues available for advancement that I must admit that I shamelessly pursued the easiest course. But have no pity for me, being the supreme commander’s whore is no hardship. She is everything a man dreams of in a Russian woman: beautiful, strong, intelligent, powerful. She’s a good provider, as my plum assignment so clearly shows. I might even be in love with her some days, though that’s a dangerous game. Better to remember my place. How easily I can be replaced.
I am not, after all, her life companion. That honor goes to a much more respectable man, Nikolai Petronenov. Nikolai is the one she has publicly chosen to raise her child -- a child, I might add, in a moment of bitterness, that I sired. Not that I have any real claim to the boy. Fatherhood is a duty, a linking of genetic material, nothing more. Sure, a sample of my DNA appears on his birth certificate, my lineage is dutifully recorded, but I have no expectation that my involvement will ever become anything more. Not, at least, as long as Nikolai stays in favor.
Ironic, then, isn’t it, that I’m in a position to save his a**?
Saturday, September 29, 2007
Saturday Morning Funnies
Here is another blast from my past. I have a whole universe in my head that I've never tried to publish and it involves an alternate Russia in which women have come to rule (given my previous rant, I thought this might be a lighter take on all of this.)
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3 comments:
Okay, except, this (trimmed down) could make for a rocking good story. I love how you've quickly set up the dynamics of an alternate society, and the interplay of at least four people in a somewhat complicated relationship. Now he saves Nikolai, and is rebuffed by Nikolai for saving him (maybe a nice undercurrent thread there--Nikolai is trying to take down the existent system, and his death has something to do with it), or he is rebuffed by the Sup. Comm. for being involved in a plot to harm Nikolai/the child/the state, and she takes away his power (but not his training and know how). All of this is observed by the boy, who learns that the MC is his true father. Parallel arcs of discovery story, the boy and the MC in alternating chapters, until you have a confrontation with all four of them in the same room, and the child ends up having the reins of power because he has access to something they can't control--the future, once they are all dead. They can plot and plan and control now, but they will die, and he will still be around.
Wow, thanks for letting me riff.
Yeah, I like this. This is fun.
Yeah, Lyda/Tate, ditto. I got into this. You should do something with this idea. You know, in your spare time. :)
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