So, Alena became her father’s son he’d never had. She was a tomboy in any case, but she now wore boys’ clothes, cut her hair and looked to all intents and purpose – a boy.
By the time she was ten, she was treated as a boy by nearly everyone in her village, many of whom were unaware she was a girl, so she adopted the name ‘Ivan’.
She discovered she was able to do magic tricks and would entertain family and friends at festivals and family occasions. She also discovered she had other powers, of which she was deeply fearful and ashamed.
There was a terrible winter in 1964, in which many died. Her father took a job in a factory many miles away. During that awful winter, her mother died of bronchial pneumonia and her father was involved in a near-fatal accident at work, rendering him crippled and mentally impaired for life. He was taken to a sanatorium, to be cared for by a grateful state.
Alena remained with her sisters and an aunt, who refused to allow her to pretend to be Ivan any more. She ran away in the following spring, aged just twelve, making for Moscow. There, she became a child of the streets, existing on her substantial wits to evade the militia. She became Ivan once more, but this time in fact. Unlike Amber who became adept at changing from very early on, Alena took much longer to pick up the skills. Over time, some many months, she gradually managed to manipulate her genetic makeup to become the person she had always wanted to be. As puberty struck, Ivan became a man, while what was left of his family all but forgot about the Alena who had run away.
He worked for a while in a circus, but found the travelling life was full of dangers and uncertainties. Finally, he found a small apartment and lived a solitary life, working in the underbelly of that great city of Moscow. His skills were such that he was well able to make a good living, but often on the wrong side of the law. He never trusted anyone, for he was terrified of being discovered and taken off to some research facility where he’d never be free again.
Just as Amber found ways to manipulate her way out of trouble, so did Ivan, until he established himself in a good job with a nightclub frequented by party officials and foreign businessmen.
He was hardly surprised when he realised he was under surveillance, in fact, he wondered why it had taken them so long.
His decision to meet the man in charge was not an easy one to come to, but once taken, brought the young man enormous relief.
Vassily looked at this young man, who had at one time been a girl.
“Why do you come to me?” he asked.
“You know why. I believe I can contribute towards our motherland.”
That had been several months ago. Ivan had offered his services to his country, in return for some privileges. Now with a luxurious apartment and a commission in the KGB, Ivan was legal for the first time in his life. Vassily had watched Ivan’s training and development with interest. The young man could read the minds of others in close proximity, and could implant thoughts into others, thereby being able to manipulate his own invisibility at will. He was however, unable to undertake much of what Amber could achieve, although, all were unaware of this one important fact.
Vassily now kept Ivan close, as his aide, to give him an insight into whether there were others in the vicinity with powers of which he should be aware, both friendly and less so.
He’d brought Ivan to Berlin to begin his investigation, and found that the agent or agents who’d been active had covered their tracks well. The border guard, Max Freiberg, in particular, had been convinced that he’d been working for a KGB officer, and a very attractive one at that.
It was, therefore, quite a shock to learn that it wasn’t the Americans who might just have gained the advantage, but the British. Since the end of the war, the British were considered rather a joke. The country was bankrupt and the empire gone, with traitors deep within the heart of the intelligence service, who had been feeding the Soviets for many years. However, their intelligence suggested that it wasn’t the Americans, but the British who were active on this, as many of the escapees turned up in either Britain or Commonwealth nations, such as Canada and Australia.
Vassily liked the British. There was something distinctly honourable and old-fashioned about the way they looked at the world. He’d been to England several times, either on cultural deputations or as an attaché to the Soviet Embassy in London. London remained his favourite city, as it encapsulated the strength of its people and was a living piece of history. He admired the eccentricity of their class system and the remarkable resilience they appeared to possess in the face of adversity.
He could never understand how a people divided by wealth and position, who seemed to loathe those of different class, could actually pull together in such unified fashion and work so well when faced by enormous challenges.
On the other hand, Hans Vriester disliked Russians, in particular KGB officers, the more senior the more he disliked them. However, he had to admit that he was out of his depth, so when he made his admission and report to his superiors, it was a natural progression that the Russians would be informed and come in on the act. Their Russian allies had access to resources about which the East Germans could only dream.
Hans had been worrying over something he couldn’t put his finger on for many months. It had started with a raid on that café in Berlin, when various enemies of the state were arrested. Unusually, the film of the event had been over-exposed, or even worse, exchanged for some old Disney footage. His men had been professional and experienced, so there were no reasons for their slip-ups on this occasion. Either enemy agents were inside the Stasi, or even worse, they were able to get in and out without being discovered.
Hans could never remember what he thought he had forgotten, until he had a dream.
He awoke in the middle of the night, startling his wife by shouting at the top of his voice. He’d dreamed of a merry-go-round - one with carved wooden horses with poles running vertically through them. He’d ridden for ages on a horse, every now and again glimpsing someone who was directly opposite him, on the other side of the ride. He saw her hair, knowing then that she was a woman. It was long and golden hair, and then he heard her laugh.
He dismounted form his horse and, even though the ride was still hurtling round and round, he started to walk towards her. At the last minute, he saw her face, and looked into a pair of lovely golden eyes.
He woke up, remembering the eyes. The eyes that he last recalled seeing in the pretty head of a Volkspolitzei officer at the time of the raid, but then he, and everyone else, seemed to simply forget she ever existed.
His conclusion?
Somehow, an enemy agent was able to either utilise hypnosis or mind control to gain access to classified areas, eradicating anyone’s memory of her being there and even tampering with film or tape evidence.
His report worried his superiors sufficiently to make them pass it to the KGB, hence the colonel’s presence.
“Comrade Colonel, I am Major Hans Vriester.”
Vassily looked at the German. He was a tall man, broad in the shoulder and fair-haired. Vassily smiled somewhat wryly, as the German could have stepped off any of the propaganda posters depicting the typical Aryan.
“Sit down, please, Major,” the Russian said, in good, but accented German. He watched as the man sat in the upright chair in the borrowed office. Ivan was standing by the window, looking out across a courtyard. Vassily made no attempt to introduce him to the German.
Vassily stubbed out his cigarette and opened the buff folder that contained the German’s report.
“How certain are you?”
“About as certain as I can be in, the circumstances, comrade Colonel.”
“Describe the girl?”