Ch.52Crossed Fates: Beria and Trotsky

# This bastard probably didn’t care about the first two things.

After all, that’s what he did in actual history. The third point was likely what struck him most.

He had been busy playing around in the Cheka, and this was the result.

“You’re not trying to escape to Germany alive, are you?”

“The Tsarina has already embraced Modified Capitalism as a compromise with reality. German communism won’t last long either. How could the well-fed ever embrace communism?”

Looking into his eyes, I can see he’s sincere.

That distinctive cunning look of someone trying to attach himself to the powerful to survive. This one is genuine.

He’s not a hardcore Bolshevik trying to kill me to prove the revolution’s legitimacy. Nothing like that.

He’s clinging to me, the Tsarina, because he wants to live. Because he wants another chance at advancement.

“Why not appeal to the members of the Duma instead?”

“Even with the Duma, what could be more important in this era than gaining the Tsarina’s approval?”

That’s right. My symbolic importance can’t be ignored.

Even with the Duma in place, I would still have a voice for quite some time.

“Let me be frank. You’ve always been the type to attach yourself to whoever could advance your career.”

“That’s—”

“I’m not trying to criticize you for it. But you’re the kind of man who would do anything to advance. I’ll give you credit for your ability.”

That’s one thing I like about him.

There are two types of people who scramble for advancement. Those who gain power by flattering incompetent rulers with honeyed words. And those who showcase their abilities by doing all sorts of dirty work to advance.

This one is clearly the second type.

“!!”

Communism is already finished in Russia.

Even if he went to Germany, without proper roots there, he’d be treated poorly among those following Rosa Luxemburg or Karl Liebknecht, being from a different faction.

And even if he fled Germany, the Okhrana, which had been harassing the Cheka, would pursue and kill him to the ends of the earth.

So he’s chosen to lick my boots and secure a path to advancement.

Yes. Good.

Many must be disappointed with Lenin.

Those who truly joined the revolution to create a new and better world must have lost their purpose seeing Russia as it is now.

An Empress with the military’s complete support.

An Empress who reclaimed Constantinople, which Russia so desperately wanted, and secured the Mongolian steppes and Northern Manchuria.

An Empress who guarantees socialist-flavored reforms and worker welfare.

A futurism that advances to catch up with other powers, even at this very moment.

Versus the Soviet Union, ruled by Red power-mongers who have tainted everything with violence and authoritarianism.

It’s obvious who will win.

That’s why the shrewd Beria has attached himself to our side.

I was actually looking for someone to recruit.

“Join the Okhrana as a temporary agent. Take charge of eliminating the Communist Party in Georgia, then cross the Atlantic. There are people to find and people to capture.”

Let’s see what you can do.

If you fail, I’ll dispose of you accordingly.

This ambitious man will certainly try his best to fulfill my orders. Yes, let’s see what this Beria, now attached to the Tsarina, can do.

“Just give me your orders.”

“First, in America, there’s a man named Robert Goddard. He develops rockets. Tell him I’ll support his rocket development and persuade him—not force him—to come to Russia. Second is Igor Sikorsky. He’ll be responsible for Russia’s aircraft in the future.”

A man who develops rockets.

The German Werner von Braun, influenced by him, developed the V2 and various other rockets.

The missiles created by Robert Goddard weren’t particularly well-received in America.

That’s why I’m calling him here.

To let him do as much as he can.

Of course, Russia’s circumstances are difficult, so I can’t give him a large budget. But isn’t it important that someone is interested in his rockets?

“Then who is the person I need to capture?”

“Trotsky, who should be in Mexico or the United States. Can you find him?”

In the original history, Trotsky went to Mexico.

Of course, with different times and history, I can’t be certain he went to Mexico, but according to Okhrana’s pursuit, Trotsky went through Northern Europe to Germany and then disappeared.

With his personality, he wouldn’t stay long in Germany where factions differ from his own. And he wouldn’t be in France either, where the Commune is barely holding on.

He probably crossed the Atlantic.

I’m guessing either the United States or Mexico, so sending Beria there is a good idea.

“So, the priorities are Robert Goddard and Sikorsky?”

That’s right. I’ll bring these people in to develop rockets and prepare for World War II.

Unlike actual history, this will be a fight between a substandard Communist Germany and a well-prepared Russia. Can Germany really overcome White Russia?

“Yes. Finding Trotsky is secondary. For now, it’s enough to drain the red from Russia. Eliminate the Communist Party in Georgia completely.”

“I will not disappoint you!”

Good. Let’s see what you can do.

Use all those cruel methods you showed in actual history for the United States of Greater Russia.

If you do that, I’ll at least watch your back so you can die of old age.

Of course, if you can’t change your ways, I’ll kill you.

# * * *

Around this time, Trotsky was on a forced long march.

He had taken a ship to Sweden and entered communist Germany, but soon Trotsky’s characteristically radical personality clashed with Rosa Luxemburg’s ideology, which advocated a more moderate communist revolution unlike Lenin or himself.

Rosa Luxemburg’s ideology, created after seeing the Soviet Union’s failure!

This was essentially asking him to admit defeat within the communist camp, which was unacceptable for someone already on the run.

Nevertheless, the German Communist Party helped Trotsky emigrate to another country.

He had considered going to the Chinese Communist Party, but heard they weren’t doing well either.

And so he arrived in the United States.

Having arrived in this place where communism could hardly take root, Trotsky was living a truly miserable life.

*Sizzle sizzle*

The chicken Trotsky held with tongs was frying deliciously in oil with spectacular movements.

Looking at that chicken and thinking he was no different from it, Trotsky felt rage boiling inside him.

“Why am I reduced to frying chicken?”

“Comrade, we have no choice if we want to escape the Okhrana’s pursuit.”

That’s right.

Trotsky was frying chicken with help from Russian-born communists in America to escape the Okhrana’s pursuit.

Now even this job was becoming difficult due to suspicion.

If only he had died at the hands of the Grand Duchess that day. Now in Russia, the Soviet Union was being portrayed as a corrupt regime that claimed to be revolutionary but couldn’t even properly manufacture bullets.

They were completely discrediting the Soviet Union and the revolution.

“If I had died that day, I wouldn’t have to suffer this humiliation!”

“Comrade. There will be new opportunities here.”

New opportunities. What fine words.

Suddenly Trotsky turned his eyes to the window.

Outside the shop was a model of a smiling Trotsky holding chicken.

Yes. If that counts as an opportunity, then so be it.

If it means dedicating his life to frying chicken!

Trotsky hated such a life.

“What new opportunities! This is all because of that damn Grand Duchess!”

As he was about to spend another day cursing the Grand Duchess as usual, he noticed people arguing loudly outside.

A white couple and a Black man being beaten below them.

“Ha, how dare this Black bastard look at her?”

“No, I just happened to see her! I had no intention of looking at your woman!”

The racial discrimination against Black people prevalent in American society.

Despite the abolition of slavery, discrimination against Black people still abounded in this seemingly soaring society that concealed various social problems beneath its surface.

‘If I play this right?’

Trotsky’s eyes were gleaming.

Yes. Until his dying day, his revolution was not yet over.

“Comrade Trotsky.”

“What?”

“You need to fry one more chicken.”

*Sizzle sizzle*

Yes. For now, he had to fry this hateful chicken in front of him.

# * * *

Georgia

Around this time, a bloody storm was sweeping through the Georgian Republic, part of the United States of Greater Russia.

The Georgian Republic had been incorporated into the United States after a pro-Russian government was established thanks to Britain’s moderate collaboration with Russia.

But beneath the surface, Reds remained.

After the fall of the Soviet Union, they had been hiding in Georgia, dreaming of a day when revolution would come again, but…

They were being killed as White vigilante groups formed in Georgia with Okhrana’s support began to move.

Behind them was Beria.

As if his time with the Bolsheviks had been solely in preparation for this day, Beria moved ruthlessly, thoroughly crushing those who had been his revolutionary comrades.

Torture was the minimum; summary execution was the average.

“How could Comrade Beria do this to us!”

“Hehehe. Comrade? How dare you disrespectful bastards call me comrade? I’ve been a White infiltrator in the Bolsheviks from the beginning.”

*Bang!*

The Red who was angrily confronting Beria met his end from Beria’s bullet.

This one-sided Communist Party purge in Georgia, led by the White vigilante groups organized by Beria and the Okhrana, was enough to record Beria as an enemy of the revolution.

And even fellow Okhrana agents were shocked by Beria.

“I’ve been with the Okhrana for a long time, but I’ve never seen someone like him.”

“Yes. To so thoroughly hunt down those who were his comrades until the civil war.”

After completely eliminating the subversive elements in Georgia, Beria’s eyes looked far across the Atlantic, well beyond Europe.

‘If I capture Trotsky too. It wouldn’t be impossible to secure a position in the Interior Ministry.’

His next target was Trotsky.

Of course, he would have to find that rocket person first.

# * * *

Since becoming Tsar, I’ve had much more to worry about.

First, the temporary government building in Yekaterinburg was not suitable for a Tsar to reside in, so as soon as it was somewhat rebuilt, I moved to the intact Kremlin Palace in Moscow.

Personally, I think Yekaterinburg would be fine as a capital.

Think about it.

I have no intention of retreating, but if Communist Germany declares war on Russia, and the capital is Yekaterinburg…

Even if German forces cross the border, they’d have to reach Yekaterinburg, which would demoralize them before the war even begins.

Anyway, let me talk about this.

In this history I’ve changed, Vera Gedroits, the female doctor who treated the Southern Russian White Army during the Civil War, has returned to work as the imperial physician.

And now, Vera Gedroits is conducting a health examination on me based on the remaining records of Nicholas II’s family.

Especially since Anastasia’s health was poor. That’s what concerned her.

“How is it?”

“How is this possible? It’s miraculous that you’ve been fighting directly on the battlefield until now.”

“Is it that serious?”

No matter what, when someone looks at me like that, it makes me feel strange.

Why did that old man, immortal or whatever, put me in this body?

“The Tsarina was born with poor health. You suffered from bunions on your big toe long ago, didn’t you? Your back muscles were also weak. This is… well… medically inexplicable. It’s as if your body is being protected by something.”

Yes. I heard Anastasia had a good personality but poor health.

In other words, the fact that I fought in wars with Anastasia’s body is itself an inexplicable phenomenon.

But now it’s better?

“Are you saying it’s not bad now?”

“Yes. It shouldn’t affect your daily life. You already know this since you’ve been on the battlefield yourself.”

“I suppose so.”

It wasn’t particularly difficult or anything.

That damned old man must have turned me into some kind of monster.