Maxim Jenkin's Notebook

A small, paper-bound notebook found among the belongings of a corpse, little more than a skeleton at this point, that lay in a decrepit apartment bathroom in Central Indiana Management District B . The binding thread on the notebook is mostly gone, but otherwise it is in rather decent condition, most likely due to being kept in a tarred cloth envelope with some other items. The notebook appears to be the personal journal of one Special Services Member Maxim Jenkins, part of the Toledo City-State(organization:c1616be9-5667-4c0b-ac8c-d508da1fa3e0). Based on the writings, it appears that Maxim died here some 40 years prior. The writings detail his last mission and the events that occurred during and after the @[Convergence that brought this area into Earth That Is.  

Day 1

These are the field notes of Special Services Member Maxim Jenkins, Toledo City State. The date is August 4, 87 PE - as it happens today is my birthday. I have been sent here to a place that is more wild than I care to speculate on in search of missing Charioteer Charles Till, now some 11 days overdue. Oculus Division claims they've found some kind of new settlement out here, one that is well too advanced for the simple savages that live out this far. Captain Barnes says that the footage that their drones came back with shows a ton of interference, but they were able to get a few clear etches out of it. Till's last TM was from out this way, so the steel collars think that the two are connected. Wouldn't be surprised to see a Jump-boy get out over his head...

Day 4

This morning, this mind-rocked forest finally showed me something even more novel than before. The air itself seemed to shimmer in color, like someone dropped one of Lucille's fancy soaps into a bucket. In those colors, I am sure I saw people, men with rifles, women screaming at them. Some big war machines. But they were all made of soap bubbles. Captain is going to think that I've lost my ball bearings after reading these... I could almost hear that rifle bark though. It's past now, about a mile back. But now I sit crouched in a space between two Crete buildings. The Ochies were right though, that language is Russian. It's all over the place here, though I have a hard time reading it. Gotta keep my eyes out though.

Day 10

I write this now from the home of Alice and Rick Germaine. Alice and Rick, turns out, are Americans. Strange, no one has called themselves an American for probably 30 years - only some of the old men at the Vets Bar even remember when that was something you did. But that's what they are. This must be a Confluence, nothing else fits. I think this must be the third I've ever heard of. But none have ever had __people__ in them. Like real honest to all people. So far I've been able to keep my reality from them, but it won't last. I'd have to stop asking questions and I don't have much time left. For Alice and Rick, it is 1961. Yes, that 1961. But not __our__ 1961. I can't get more from them without typing them off. The Soviets, the old Russian boogymen, control this place. The power stayed on until a few days ago. Rick says that something weird happened about 6 days ago. That makes it the day before the Ochies sent their drones in. Ever since the soldiers have been acting weird. This morning they started rounding people up and pushing them north. Alice says there's a big gathering place up there, where they hold their big rallies and such. None have come back. I just barely missed getting pulled in to a group. That's when I ran into Alice and Rick. I've given Rick my old Pony Rocker, the one grandpa gave me when I entered the Service. Told him to hide it somewhere in case they try to take him and Alice. Once I get a bit of food and a nip of sleep I gotta keep moving.

Day 12

All hell has broken loose. Turns out they are rounding people up. Several people on the street told me they are taking all the American workers up to the stadium and shooting them, dropping em into pits they dug there. Turns out when the power dropped a few days ago, the Shimmer (thats what the Americans called it) went too. If you ask an old operative, I bet they still were __connected__ with wherever they came from while the Shimmer was there. Seems like the Soviets and Americans together realize now that they are stuck here, wherever here is for them. And they both realized that the other is going to take em behind the woodshed. The Soviets just figured it out faster. Once word got around, both sides started fighting in the streets. A bunch of men got a hold of some kind of explosive and blew apart one of the war machines that patrolled the streets. Part of me is amazed at how much firepower was (well, is I guess) available to these guys. I mean, they are no Burners or even my Scouter. But the noise that is just outside the window of this store is tremendous. There is no way I'm finding that Jump-boy in this, if he's even here.

Day 12 B

Lucille, I hope you never read this as that meant they sent another fool to this place. I also hope you can dream my words and know that I love you, always and for ever. Tell Gene I'm proud of him one more time. The fighting is worse and I took a bullet to my leg. It's pretty much a goner and I can't keep the bleeding down. They'll be here soon. I have just enough left to write this. Servitude and Honor, always. I love you Lucille.

Type

Journal, Personal