The Warsaw Incident
Just look at those Black Hand bastards in Serbia. A screw loose in their heads and they went straight for the Austrian crown prince. In the Great War, before they had even secured full independence, Poland had beaten the Russian army. So how would they respond to the Tsarina’s proposal? To them it probably looked like an offer that accomplished nothing useful either way. In that case they would roll the dice. If I were in their position, that’s exactly what I would do.
For example, they could kill the Tsarina and leave Józef Piłsudski with no choice at all, manufacturing a situation in which war with Russia became inevitable. Besides, Russia was still largely unified thanks to my symbolic value. If I died, they might convince themselves that the country would fracture. They could spin that kind of hopeful scenario in their heads.
All right, let’s sketch one out. German communist lackeys who had burrowed deep into Poland to agitate the workers hear that the Tsarina is arriving. They pass their reactionary terror bomb to Polish nationalists. Something like that. That would be the cleanest scenario.
The problem was the other ministers. If we got through this safely it would be perfect, but once this possibility existed the ministers who had accompanied me were also in danger. If we were unprepared they would probably only target me, yet it would still be risky.
“Well, nothing’s exploded yet.”
Nothing had exploded yet. I would treat it as nothing more than one possibility. Now let’s consider what would happen if Poland simply refused. This world did not revolve around my wishes, after all.
I had spoken casually in front of the ministers, but I still needed to prepare for rejection. I would have to treat Poland as a potential enemy and begin drawing defensive lines. And, though it galled me, I would have to deepen ties with Britain as well. Striking first was never wise. Fighting as the invaded party was far better for gathering allies.
“Am I doing this correctly?”
When the Great Depression arrived, perhaps the image of communist Germany would shift a little. They could claim that because it was communist it had escaped the worst of the crisis. I wondered what would happen if we pushed that narrative.
“It’s not as if I know anything about economics.”
That was for the economists to handle. For now the best I could do was travel around as the public face of the regime, reminding everyone that Russia remained strong. The situation inside Germany was probably a complete mess as well. But that was a problem for later.
Knock, knock.
Someone rapped on the door. Was what had to come, coming at last?
“Who is it?”
“Ah, it’s me. I was told the guest today is an extremely important person, so I was sent to ask if anything is uncomfortable for you.”
It was a girl who looked slightly younger than me. She didn’t appear to be carrying a weapon. Unexpected. Would it really pass this quietly?
“I’m not particularly uncomfortable. You may leave for now—”
I spoke lightly, intending to send the inn employee away, when—
Crash!
Something announced its presence with violent clarity, shattering the window and rolling into the room. It looked like a wooden crate, but inside newspaper wrapping I could see a suspicious black object.
It reminded me of something I had seen countless times on video streaming sites in my previous life—the ending where the communist Sim Yeong exploded every single day thanks to divine editing.
“So in this era they throw these things.”
“What is that?”
I gave a small snort of laughter.
Since guards were present to prevent a repeat of the Sarajevo incident, they had thrown a bomb instead. Bullets had only been stinging at best. I was rather curious how powerful the bomb would prove to be.
“You could die, so get out.”
With a boldness no ordinary human could imagine, I shoved the inn employee out the door.
And then.
This bomb will definitely kill you.
As though making a solemn vow, it detonated without hesitation.
BOOM!
The explosion tore through the room. The table, dresser, lamp, and bed that had furnished the space only moments earlier were all smashed to pieces. I was hurled against the wall.
“Ugh, that one was big.”
It felt as if a heavy fist had been driven into my gut; my chest seized tight. Still, it was fortunate. It seemed the bomb had only reached this room.
I brushed myself off and stood. The imperial marshal uniform I wore was badly torn, yet for taking a direct blast it was surprisingly tolerable.
“What happened?”
“Explosion on the second floor!”
“Her Majesty! Her Majesty is in danger!”
Amid the uproar from the first floor, the ministers who had stepped out earlier, Ungern, and even Vera Gedroits came rushing in. Since I could not show them the torn uniform, I threw on the coat I had worn when arriving in Warsaw.
“All you grown adults are making quite the commotion.”
I spoke firmly, enunciating each word, pretending nothing was wrong and trying to appear as calm as possible.
Why? Because the bastard who had apparently thrown the bomb was standing at the end of the corridor, eyes wide with shock.
“Im-impossible… How? The room is in that state… How are you still alive!”
Yes. There he was. Poland’s own Black Hand.
Given that they had smuggled a bomb, there had to be accomplices. The fact that Polish troops had been stationed nearby meant at least one person had helped. The man who had personally deployed those troops to protect me was most likely Józef Piłsudski. Unless he had lost his mind, he would not have tried to kill me. Therefore one of the Polish officers who received his order must have been the accomplice.
It seemed Mr. Piłsudski did not control Poland as tightly as I had assumed.
“That man appears to be the culprit. He came to confirm whether I was dead.”
“That son of a bitch!”
The culprit was seized on the spot by Ungern and forced to his knees. For throwing a bomb at a foreign monarch and receiving only this treatment, he should have counted himself lucky. Yet he still dared to glare. An utterly rude bastard.
“Aren’t you curious why I didn’t die? My clothes are shredded, the room is destroyed—why is only the Tsarina still standing?”
“H-how can you be alive after an explosion like that…”
It seemed he still had not grasped reality. That was not the important point right now. What truly mattered to him was not the undying steel Tsarina.
“Is that what matters?”
“You didn’t die from the bomb, so of course that’s what matters!”
Yes. Of course it was. He had resolved to kill me and failed. He had staked his life on assassinating the monarch of a nation.
I smiled, cold and mocking. I laughed openly at our Polish friend who had tried to blow me to pieces.
“You carried out this grand operation yet failed to kill me. What will become of Poland now?”
The culprit fell silent as though his tongue had been cut out.
Yes. Even after going this far, war would not break out easily. Had they actually killed me it would be different, but since I had survived, Józef Piłsudski’s only remaining choice was to accept Russia’s proposal.
Before long the culprit was dragged away by soldiers.
Now, how would our Mr. Piłsudski respond?
Bang!
In the cabinet meeting the argument raged: accept Russia’s proposal, remain neutral, or secretly sound out an alliance with communist Germany to fight Russia. Everyone was exhausted when Józef Piłsudski received news that would flip Poland upside down.
“What did you say? An explosion at the Tsarina’s lodging? What happened to the Tsarina!”
“We captured the apparent culprit and his accomplices on the spot. They were nationalist bastards.”
So the right wing had finally acted. And at the worst possible moment, while he himself served as Chief of State.
“Damn it. I knew this might happen and had the place guarded in advance.”
Had she actually died there would have been no choice, but the Tsarina was alive and unharmed. The meaning of that fact was clear.
The Tsarina had come to Poland in person to improve relations, and this was how they repaid her—with a bomb. What a petty state. They would be condemned by the entire world. The country had only just been founded, yet it would forever carry the label of attempting to assassinate a foreign monarch with a bomb.
“This could not have happened without conspiracy. Who was it? Speak clearly. The inn employee witnessed everything with her own eyes.”
Journalists from every nation had questioned the inn employee directly. The naïve girl who knew nothing of politics had answered exactly as she saw it: an explosive had been thrown into the room, and the Tsarina had protected her.
Under Józef Piłsudski’s piercing gaze the cabinet ministers could not even raise their heads. After a long silence, one or two finally spoke, voices trembling.
“We merely… encouraged the right-wing elements to show the Tsarina Poland’s anti-Russian sentiment…”
At that moment Józef Piłsudski felt the back of his skull burn with unmistakable clarity.
Encouraged.
Yes. There they were. Those worthless vermin were right there. Because of these sons of bitches, Poland would now wear an invisible collar and be forced to serve as Russia’s hunting dog, tearing at communist Germany.
“So that’s why!”
“We never ordered her death! A bomb? That was never our intention! We only wanted the negotiations to fail!”
They certainly had smooth tongues. Of course. When had a thief ever confessed with his own mouth?
“If the Tsarina had died this country would have been at war immediately! We would have been crushed by millions of Russian White troops before Germany could even lift a finger! The whole nation would drown in blood again!”
“Then Germany—”
“You think Germany will help? They’ll only march in after we’re all dead, claim the credit, and plant a communist regime on Polish soil!”
Germany? Absurd. Did they really believe red Germany would simply ride to the rescue?
Józef Piłsudski had watched Russia’s civil war and Germany’s revolution; he could roughly picture how the communists seized power. Britain had prevented them from intervening in Russia, but he at least understood that they must not show any weakness to Germany now.
“Th-that…”
“It is already dangerous. Don’t you see? The world will soon learn that we threw a bomb at the Russian monarch who offered us a hand of reconciliation! Our only remaining option is to accept Russia’s proposal. There are no other choices!”
Whether they were trying to recreate the Sarajevo incident or not, this was an obvious blunder. All that remained was to insist the government had no involvement, accommodate the Tsarina’s demands as much as possible, and hand the culprits over to Russia.
There had never been a real choice. Yet the chance to accept the hand of reconciliation with dignity had been thrown away by their own foolishness.
The Tsarina might be smiling on the surface, but it was only a mask. Behind that smile she was surely calculating how to use Poland most effectively as a meat shield. His instincts screamed as much, but unfortunately his subordinates lacked the brains to see it.
Thanks to Britain they had gained independence. When the Russian civil war ended, the path to war with Russia had been effectively closed.
“I must go to her myself.”
They had to appease her as much as possible. Only then could they demonstrate that Poland was doing everything in its power for the Tsarina.
“You personally, Chief of State?”
“Even so, that is…”
These madmen still had not come to their senses.
Józef Piłsudski pointed at each of the wretches in turn.
“We nearly killed the monarch of an empire that spans East and West. At the very least I must go in person. You should be grateful I am not throwing you at her feet!”
Honestly, if the Tsarina were truly considering war, he would be tempted to purge the entire cabinet. Against Russia alone he would have gritted his teeth and fought, but now, to anyone watching, Poland was the villain the entire world would point fingers at.
Russia possessed both casus belli and global sympathy. Poland would have to endure another painful chapter. Therefore they had no choice but to bow their heads.
“Understood.”
Józef Piłsudski sighed and set off. He could only pray this incident would not lead to war.