Transabina
Establishing Nation
Aanaari, Saamiland
1 July 1953, 02.43
For another night, Isku Ooli found himself staring at the ceiling while his wife Kirste lay next to him, locked in an utterly sound, imperturbable slumber. How blissful she seemed. He screwed his eyes shut, trying to will himself to sleep, but the seconds ticked by uninterrupted. How many nights had it been now? One week? Two? He couldn’t seem to recall. Every fiber of his body seemed to call out for sleep, but somehow it wouldn’t come. For weeks now, he had been unable to shake this feeling of groggy alertness, a faint tingling on the back of his neck, as though he was perpetually being awakened to hear an intruder in the next room. Talking, reading, music, teas, even warm milk had not helped, and the President was too proud a man to ask his doctors for a sedative. He told himself it was probably the sun. The endless daytime of the summer months was known to play tricks on one’s body and mind. That must be it - right?
Through the haze of groggy restlessness, President Ooli tried to recall when this had all started. He had first felt like this shortly after his return from Sikandara. Could that really have been almost a month ago? He recalled his slumber on the long flight back from Old Shahdara with all the yearning of a parched man in the desert dreaming of clear rivers and streams. What was it about that meeting? His government had lauded its success, although that came more by good luck than Saami diplomatic acumen. And while called a public success, it had been a private debacle, leaving the Saami government in a poor position for further negotiations. The Sikandari Chancellor had graciously acquiesced to almost every Saami proposal. The Chancellor had invited them as guests, and had offered them a great gift - almost complete energy security. And he had been ungraciously refused.
Had that been it? The meeting had shaken the Saami President. While he had been in politics for over 20 years, he had never lost his optimism, that sense that he was working for the betterment of all people. He still thought of himself as the young lawyer, the principled social reformer. The very idea of foreign intrigues, wars, and revolutions was foreign to him. He had accepted the responsibilities of Head of State rather reluctantly, preferring to dogmatically stick to the previous government’s strategy of benevolent neutrality. The fact that this was no longer possible had been made all to clear in Sikandara. The Saami leader hated it, but the facts were there. The Saami government could not afford to continue to isolate itself. He would have to forge new alliances, to break with established protocol, and to accept the risks of these decisions.
But events were moving too fast for anyone to place sound bets. A military junta in Saaremaa, populists in Boganhem, revolution in Cantiginia, violence in Engellex, and now reports of warfare in both the Orient and Occident! What to do, what sides to take? Who were the real friends and enemies? The President didn’t know. His advisers didn’t know.
And to make matters worse, every action - including inaction - was being scrutinized by the Saami Congress, not to mention the press. The right-wing opposition parties applauded his recognition of the new government in Saaremaa, but condemned recognition of the new leadership in Boganhem, while his own left-wing coalition partners took the opposite stance. The failure to negotiate an energy deal with Sikandara had brought ridicule by elements of the press, and a scandal had developed over several erroneous news stories, threatening fragile relations with the new governments of both Boganhem and Cantiginia. And on top of it all, his government had to contend with an ongoing labor dispute between several major private and state-owned mining companies and the nation Coal and Steel Union.
It was all too much for one man to take, the Saami President concluded. Why had he ever agreed to run for a second term? It had to be this damn job keeping him awake at nights. After all, the same sun never set for Kirste, but she seemed to sleep just fine. With a sigh, Isku Ooli shifted in his bed, keeping his eyes closed. Maybe if I keep them shut, sleep will come…
Keattama Mining Complex
Muonaa Province, Saamiland
1 July 1953, 02.45
Some of the miners were just coming to the surface for the 3rd shift’s lunch break. The Keattama mine was one of the largest coal mines in Saamiland, a sprawling complex of hundreds of individual shafts and well thousands workers, responsible for over 15% of Saamiland’s annual coal production. Coal was a booming business in Muonaa province, and the facility was operating at nearly full capacity despite the late hour - the hefty overtime bonus some small compensation for the cramped, dirty, and backbreaking work being done.
The miners emerged pale and grim from the mine’s cramped lifts in groups of a dozen or more, covered in a fine black dust. They quickly fanned out around the surrounding complex in small groups, fetching knapsacks and lunch pails, moving with heavy, tired steps towards the grassy edge of the compound, looking down a gentile slope on the railhead below, where trucks and machines scurried to and from the great heaped piles of coal, loading their bounty onto waiting trains bound for one of the many large power plants scattered across the country. While they watched the busy activity below, the men ate and talked among themselves, stealing cups of kossu under the eyes of their foremen. Altogether not an unusual night on the job.
The seeming normality was suddenly broken by a rumbling boom emanating from the direction of the mine’s main access shafts. The ground shook. Almost immediately, every man turned to look towards the center of the complex. From a distance, several dark black pyres of smoke were suddenly visible, rising over the frenzied scene. As a man, the resting clusters of miners dropped their cups and plates and rushed headlong towards the scene, pulling steel helmets tight over their heads as they ran. A deep, booming alarm bell began to clang. Someone shouted in the distance, “Explosion in Shaft 14 A! The whole level is on fire! My God, there were 100 people down there!”
Aanaari, Saamiland
1 July 1953, 03.08
An urgent phone call came through to the Presidential Estate less than half an hour after the explosion occurred. A local official in Muonaa had had the sense to call the central government in Aanaari directly, while the rest of the local government and emergency services were paralyzed by the calamity. In minutes, the report of an explosion at the Keattama mining complex was relayed by phone to all the major government offices. At first, the young presidential aide had been reluctant to wake President Ooli, but in a few minutes more senior staff members had been awakened, and they chose to relay the news to the president immediately. After all, they knew, he wasn't sleeping anyway.
1 July 1953, 02.43
For another night, Isku Ooli found himself staring at the ceiling while his wife Kirste lay next to him, locked in an utterly sound, imperturbable slumber. How blissful she seemed. He screwed his eyes shut, trying to will himself to sleep, but the seconds ticked by uninterrupted. How many nights had it been now? One week? Two? He couldn’t seem to recall. Every fiber of his body seemed to call out for sleep, but somehow it wouldn’t come. For weeks now, he had been unable to shake this feeling of groggy alertness, a faint tingling on the back of his neck, as though he was perpetually being awakened to hear an intruder in the next room. Talking, reading, music, teas, even warm milk had not helped, and the President was too proud a man to ask his doctors for a sedative. He told himself it was probably the sun. The endless daytime of the summer months was known to play tricks on one’s body and mind. That must be it - right?
Through the haze of groggy restlessness, President Ooli tried to recall when this had all started. He had first felt like this shortly after his return from Sikandara. Could that really have been almost a month ago? He recalled his slumber on the long flight back from Old Shahdara with all the yearning of a parched man in the desert dreaming of clear rivers and streams. What was it about that meeting? His government had lauded its success, although that came more by good luck than Saami diplomatic acumen. And while called a public success, it had been a private debacle, leaving the Saami government in a poor position for further negotiations. The Sikandari Chancellor had graciously acquiesced to almost every Saami proposal. The Chancellor had invited them as guests, and had offered them a great gift - almost complete energy security. And he had been ungraciously refused.
Had that been it? The meeting had shaken the Saami President. While he had been in politics for over 20 years, he had never lost his optimism, that sense that he was working for the betterment of all people. He still thought of himself as the young lawyer, the principled social reformer. The very idea of foreign intrigues, wars, and revolutions was foreign to him. He had accepted the responsibilities of Head of State rather reluctantly, preferring to dogmatically stick to the previous government’s strategy of benevolent neutrality. The fact that this was no longer possible had been made all to clear in Sikandara. The Saami leader hated it, but the facts were there. The Saami government could not afford to continue to isolate itself. He would have to forge new alliances, to break with established protocol, and to accept the risks of these decisions.
But events were moving too fast for anyone to place sound bets. A military junta in Saaremaa, populists in Boganhem, revolution in Cantiginia, violence in Engellex, and now reports of warfare in both the Orient and Occident! What to do, what sides to take? Who were the real friends and enemies? The President didn’t know. His advisers didn’t know.
And to make matters worse, every action - including inaction - was being scrutinized by the Saami Congress, not to mention the press. The right-wing opposition parties applauded his recognition of the new government in Saaremaa, but condemned recognition of the new leadership in Boganhem, while his own left-wing coalition partners took the opposite stance. The failure to negotiate an energy deal with Sikandara had brought ridicule by elements of the press, and a scandal had developed over several erroneous news stories, threatening fragile relations with the new governments of both Boganhem and Cantiginia. And on top of it all, his government had to contend with an ongoing labor dispute between several major private and state-owned mining companies and the nation Coal and Steel Union.
It was all too much for one man to take, the Saami President concluded. Why had he ever agreed to run for a second term? It had to be this damn job keeping him awake at nights. After all, the same sun never set for Kirste, but she seemed to sleep just fine. With a sigh, Isku Ooli shifted in his bed, keeping his eyes closed. Maybe if I keep them shut, sleep will come…
Keattama Mining Complex
Muonaa Province, Saamiland
1 July 1953, 02.45
Some of the miners were just coming to the surface for the 3rd shift’s lunch break. The Keattama mine was one of the largest coal mines in Saamiland, a sprawling complex of hundreds of individual shafts and well thousands workers, responsible for over 15% of Saamiland’s annual coal production. Coal was a booming business in Muonaa province, and the facility was operating at nearly full capacity despite the late hour - the hefty overtime bonus some small compensation for the cramped, dirty, and backbreaking work being done.
The miners emerged pale and grim from the mine’s cramped lifts in groups of a dozen or more, covered in a fine black dust. They quickly fanned out around the surrounding complex in small groups, fetching knapsacks and lunch pails, moving with heavy, tired steps towards the grassy edge of the compound, looking down a gentile slope on the railhead below, where trucks and machines scurried to and from the great heaped piles of coal, loading their bounty onto waiting trains bound for one of the many large power plants scattered across the country. While they watched the busy activity below, the men ate and talked among themselves, stealing cups of kossu under the eyes of their foremen. Altogether not an unusual night on the job.
The seeming normality was suddenly broken by a rumbling boom emanating from the direction of the mine’s main access shafts. The ground shook. Almost immediately, every man turned to look towards the center of the complex. From a distance, several dark black pyres of smoke were suddenly visible, rising over the frenzied scene. As a man, the resting clusters of miners dropped their cups and plates and rushed headlong towards the scene, pulling steel helmets tight over their heads as they ran. A deep, booming alarm bell began to clang. Someone shouted in the distance, “Explosion in Shaft 14 A! The whole level is on fire! My God, there were 100 people down there!”
Aanaari, Saamiland
1 July 1953, 03.08
An urgent phone call came through to the Presidential Estate less than half an hour after the explosion occurred. A local official in Muonaa had had the sense to call the central government in Aanaari directly, while the rest of the local government and emergency services were paralyzed by the calamity. In minutes, the report of an explosion at the Keattama mining complex was relayed by phone to all the major government offices. At first, the young presidential aide had been reluctant to wake President Ooli, but in a few minutes more senior staff members had been awakened, and they chose to relay the news to the president immediately. After all, they knew, he wasn't sleeping anyway.