314
Since it looks like I’m going to be here for a while, guess I’ll stop by the 21st century periodically and provide updates.
After the language difficulties I had in Japan, I decided to pick up a bit of German and Polish prior to heading out. Just some basic phrases, such as “Where’s the bathroom,” and “Have you seen a murderous time traveler with glowing red eyes anywhere around?”
The problem was, despite the rather straightforward instructions EAT gave me (Kick Grendel’s ass is about as straightforward you can get), it’s surprisingly hard to figure out what exactly I’m supposed to do. I’d assumed it would be a simple case of following his presence, kicking down the door, and shooting him in the face, but that’s ending up not to be the case. Why? Because apparently every single type of temporal distortion that there ever was decided to hang out around 1936-45.
Seriously, I have no idea what the hell is going on with WWII, but time is screwed up here. The timelines are such a mess that even the distortions caused by Grendel look tame. Rather than jumping in and kicking ass, I'm finding myself having to investigate. Again.
Those investigations haven't been the most successful. Might be my fault; having a hard figuring out ways to phrase my questions so I don't sound insane. During my last attempt, I was stopping at a small town by Warsaw. Place looked like a mess. Something about refugees, and artillery, and the Red Army being just across the river to the east. A lot of empty houses, a lot of tension amongst the remaining inhabitants. The few people still living there weren't unfriendly, but they were suspicious. Don' think they knew what to do with me; I can't say I was exactly period appropriate. Plus there's the heavy American accent, which is never a good thing to have when stopping by Nazi territory. Still, the people did answer my questions, even if those answers were usually "I don't know."
As I was doing my interviews, rumors started to be passed around that German troops were coming to the village.All-fuckin'-right! Nazi killin' time.
Positioned myself on the main road through the town and armed myself. Mid-20th century tech, time to meet half a century of destructive inventiveness.
Soon I saw people approaching down the road. Got ready to fight as they came closer, and then...I hesitated. There was something wrong with the image. I'd seen the movies. I knew what the Wehrmacht was supposed to be. Legions of stone faced killing machines with blond hair and blue eyes, goose stepping in unison as they march toward world domination....
These... they were kids. Most were younger than I am. They weren't marching like an unstoppable horde. Some were riding half-tracks or trucks, most were sludging down the road on foot. No trimmed and clean Hollywood uniforms here: their clothes were stitched, dirty, and ragged. Nor were they the perfect specimens of Aryan physique; I had to wonder when the last time some of them had eaten a decent meal was. And even as they joked with each other like the kids they were, there was an air of hopelessness pervading them.
I stood to the side as they passed me. Got several odd looks from them. In any other situation, I suspect the plethora of firearms I had may have invited violent response, but the audacity of me standing right next to them must have been too surprising for them to react. I wish they had started shooting me; I’d have been able to shoot back without having to think about it. I know these are the bad guys. I know what their regime did. I just hadn't expected them to be... you know, people.
Snapped out of my mini-daze when an officer stepped away from the column to confront me about who I was and why I was so heavily armed. He was wearing a pair of glasses, and the way the light hit them, I could see my reflection. Except it wasn't my reflection, I realized. It was the silhouette of some other woman, offering a hand to me, as if she could reach out of the reflection....
The officer repeated his questions, and several soldiers came over. One reached for my gun, and in a panic, I warped several miles away.
I'm going to keep looking for Grendel. That's why I'm here. It's just...
Whatever. I still have a job to do. I won't let this impede me.
I-330
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