Гла́вное разве́дывательное управле́ние
| OSI "SLEPOJ GLAZ" DIVISION "P" DEPARTMENT III | ||||
| APPROVED 13.X.1948 | PRINTOUT NR: 1 | SIGNED .................. K | ||
| DEPARTMENT HEAD II-O-2-WW | D.NR: 5-VIII-1948 | RESPONSIBLE PERSONNEL: Robert Novikov | ||
| DETAIL | OSI "SLEPOJ GLAZ" is the designation for a device capable of halting the firing of weapons via thermal modification. It was originally built as a prototype during the Great Patriotic War in an alliance with the Americans to fight the Japanese menace on the mainland. Though the device was not finalized in time to serve a purpose in the war, its prototype is advanced enough to be of use to the state in defending its borders. As previously mentioned, "SLEPOJ GLAZ" is incomplete and requires further development and research to bring it to fruition. Due to the nature of the device, it would require efforts from the brightest minds available in the GRU-P and state to complete. Its development is currently under the control of General K. Popov of the SSV. Raised concerns against the viability of constructing the "SLEPOJ GLAZ" include the fact that it was a collaboration between the state and the Americans. If it is developed, the Americans would likely possess knowledge of the device and may even attempt to build it themselves in response. But this is a futile endeavor, as "SLEPOJ GLAZ" would be able to end the Holodnoya Voyna within a week of activation, so as long as it is not developed by the Americans first. |
OSI "SLEPOJ GLAZ" DIVISION "P" DEPARTMENT III | ||
★ ★ ★
Thomas dropped the cig onto the floor and crushed it under his lead-lined boot.
"That about sums it up," he said, circling the mahogany table lined with yellow envelops and crisp-white papers, "though I'm expecting you're a bit confused by the lack of context."
Louis Anders leaned against the metal frame of his chair. The sunlight from dusk still loomed over the horizon, its dying rays cast over the unlit room. It defined the otherwise featureless presence across from him — his brother, the US liaison Thomas Anders. He loomed over the table at six feet tall, his gaze fixed intently on Louis, waiting for a response.
The Foundation agent chewed on his own cigar mindlessly, though his thoughts were preoccupied with the matter at hand.
"You're right," he replied, inhaling another breath of nicotine, "care to elaborate?"
Thomas let out a light sigh, and chucked a yellow folder towards his brother. Louis opened it, and flipped through the pages absentmindedly, catching glimpses of words such as "threat," "defense," "Foundation," and "temperature."
"These are some of the United States' documents on 'Slepoj Glaz,' or at the very least what I'm allowed to show you," he began. "I'd like to say that we got all of this from spying on the Ruskies, but the truth is a lot more complicated."
"So I'm led to believe," he coughed, closing the file.
Thomas scoffed but continued. "The 'Slepoj Glaz' is a reconstructed offensive and defensive device originating from the Second World War, proposed by the Soviets in collaboration with the United States against the Japanese. In English, that means that the Russos came up with a weapon against the Japs and needed American tech to do the job. We were hesitant obviously, but they had the blueprints and we certainly weren't going to let them have that to themselves."
He looked up to make sure that Louis was still listening. Sure enough, the Foundation agent met his stare.
"As it turns out, some anomalies are more consistent than others. While Division-P was still in its infancy, the Soviets were already meddling around with the supernatural, and found that certain, er, classified connections between electricity, magnetic fields, and specific metals could produce extremely small 'tears' in spacetime. Now, I don't know much about physics myself, but from what I gather you can essentially use it to connect two points in space without having any space between it."
"I've read about this. Einstein and Rosen?"
Thomas blinked. "Uh, something like that. I don't quite get it, but the simplest version I've gotten is 'teleportation,' so that should do the trick. In any case, the idea was to get each soldier a miniature version of Slepoj Glaz's prototype, and 'connect' the space between a lighter and the gunpowder in the enemies' bullets, blowing them up and rendering the Japs almost useless in ranged combat."
Louis took the cigar out of his mouth, exhaled, and then ground it into the ashtray on the desk. He rubbed a tired eye and picked the packet up again, this time scanning it more closely.
"I can image there was an issue with the idea?" He queried.
"A few. First was the issue of size; the thing was massive and we needed to condense it enough so that a soldier could hold, aim, and use it, which simply wasn't viable. Then there was the issue of utility — the device could only allow energy to pass through without blowing the thing to high heavens, and it had an extremely minuscule radius of a few million atoms across. And finally—"
Thomas put his hands together, then moved them apart dramatically.
"Boom."
"Boom?"
"A big boom. Two of them to be exact," the US liaison chuckled. "Once the war was over, we disbanded our little joint escapade. But with 8-29-49, we realized the Cossacks weren't our chums, and things were gonna start going downhill real quick."
"I can imagine," Louis replied, "you kicked us out, remember?"
A scowl formed on Thomas's face, which quickly became a muffled sigh and a shaking head. "You left, because you were too pansy to pick freedom over the fucking— whatever, we're getting off-topic. The point is, both us and the Soviets had knowledge of the device, but America didn't really pay much mind to it, at least until they detonated their own bomb."
The Foundation agent stretched, got up, and tossed the file back onto the table. He grabbed his watch and began to fiddle with it. "I can sort of see where this is going. You were afraid of the Soviets recreating it and using it against the Americans?"
"You're on the right track, at the very least. Our spies ended up getting us a few documents in '50, and it turned out that they'd been developing this thing since at least '48. And they'd made some pretty fucking serious progress too. Thus, we were only left with one choice: Operation OCULAR RIFT."
Thomas tossed yet another packet across the table, to which Louis sighed and combed though silently. The US ambassador continued: "Operation OCULAR RIFT was essentially our version of Slepoj Glaz, based on the prototypes and what we nabbed from the Commies. Within a year, we were confident we had gotten to their level of tech and prototype builds, but despite that…"
"It didn't work."
"It didn't work. From what we could tell, they were having as much trouble as us, so they turned to the GRU-P. So, of course, the scientists making OCULAR RIFT were put under PENTAGRAM jurisdiction in collaboration with 388, which is where I learned about it. We quickly learned what the issue was, and it was merely a race to get the key component: the 'pupil', or what you call SCP-5XXX."
After he had finished speaking, Thomas sat down in his own uncomfortable metal chair and looked at Louis. The Foundation scientist was absorbed in the (heavily-redacted) documents, but moments later registered that his brother had finished speaking. For the umpteenth time that day, he closed a file with too many redactions for one man to handle.
"There's still something I don't get. Why is this device so important? Why does it require SCP-5XXX? What practical application does it serve?"
Thomas flicked his lighter on and brought it up to a new cigarette, which he quickly stuffed into his mouth. The last bits of sunlight illuminated the bottom half of his sibling's face as they dimmed. "I expected you to catch on considering your experience at the Foundation, but apparently you need a small hint: what propagates this so-called Cold War?"
In a brief flash, Louis's eyes lit up. "Oh. Oh."
"Mhm. That isn't even the end of the practical applications of OCULAR RIFT and Slepoj Glaz, but the most important is being able to end the Cold War. If one side manages to completely nullify the other, there isn't mutually assured destruction, and that means you can do whatever the fuck you want. Sure, you've got the military, but combined with the assassinating powers of the device and the fact that the other side can instantly obliterate you at any time if they so desire, you're pretty much a sitting duck on a hot-war standpoint. The diplomatic power of that country would be astronomical and, if they so desired, could conquer the entire world over a few decades."
Louis squinted. "But why the crystal?"
"To be honest? It was entirely luck. The Russians caught wind of it following some local rumors from the Koreans at the same time as us, and we moved in to investigate. Apparently your higher-ups have some serious spying equipment since you managed to nab the damn thing first. In any case, the rest is history.
"We both chose the anomaly because the crystal was the safest and most surefire way to get the device to work. We still couldn't send matter through, which stopped us from just implanting devices, and burning the thing from the inside-out was incredibly risky for a number of reasons — well, besides also taking way too much energy per use. We were scratching our heads until the 'pupil' came along."
"It was almost comically convenient for us. Not only could the temperature-reduction be controlled easily, but it was also capable of bringing things to near zero within brief moments. No potential to trigger the bomb prematurely, and even if the thing exploded, pretty much all the heat would be absorbed instantly, reducing the casualties from millions to a few dozen."
A brief pause, followed by a disgruntled sigh.
"Now they have it. And if we don't destroy the pupil, there won't be a Cold War anymore."
Thomas placed his head in his hands and massaged his temple. The sun finished dipping over the horizon and automatically, the weak lights of the room flickered to life.
"Destroy it?" Louis inquired, "I thought the Americans wanted it for themselves."
"We did. The Foundation's condition for helping us is that the crystal isn't just taken by the Americans and then they'll need to do the same thing but with the Soviets. Cowards."
Louis bit his lip. The tension in the room was palpable.
"Look, I…"
"I get it," Thomas interrupted, "you've given me the same shpiel a dozen times. We've had the same conversation a dozen times. Let's just forget about it, brother."
Silence filled the room again. Foundation agent Louis looks across the table to a worn-down American liaison at his wit's end, to a man who he once knew better than himself. Now, he could hardly read the man's expression as he sat solemnly at the table, refusing to make eye contact and lowering his gaze to the table.
"…Because of my experience in the 388th and my skill at spy missions, I've been assigned to do the infiltration."
Louis looked up sharply, but Thomas didn't move.
"I'm sorry for not telling you until now. Hell, you're not even supposed to know most of this."
"Then why are you telling me?"
Thomas looked up and stared directly at his brother. "You still don't get it. As much as I hate this stupid organization and the thirteen shit-eating puppetmasters controlling our world from the shadows, I'm still here because I care about you. I wasn't assigned the role of liaison, I had to cash in favors and make promises. Now those promises are coming back to get me."
Louis sat in stunned silence at the revelation. The last remnants of sunlight disappeared over the black horizon out of the window behind his brother.
"You… you came here for me? Even though you knew we'd end up arguing and bickering most of the time?"
He rubbed his eyes. "Lou, I've been alone since you've left. I've had no one to support me, and you can't be friends with anyone in 388 or PENTAGRAM without the fear of being backstabbed. I know where your loyalties are, and although we're not allies, we're siblings. I can't say I agree with you on most of our ideologies, but that's your decision to make; the blood that binds us needs to be thicker than the water we drink."
Without prompt, Thomas got up and walked to the door. He took his cap off the coatrack and half-turned towards the stunned figure at the table.
"This will make me sound like a friend of Dorothy, but I love you. I hope we see each other again."
Louis didn't even have the time to say "I love you" back before Thomas had already gone.