Was That Man a Slav?

Could that man actually be one of the Slavs?

Come to think of it, Norse blood flowed through the veins of us Slavs too. We were a branch of the Norsemen, and we had migrated from Scandinavia.

Could that man be both a Norseman and one of us Slavs?

The more Fyodorovich thought about it, the more convinced he became that he had found the truth.

The intelligence services of the Five Nordic Countries had long been thoroughly infiltrated by Bear Nation agents. When those countries investigated the man's identity, Bear Nation obtained a copy of the findings. They showed that he was not a resident of any of the Five Nordic Countries.

Bear Nation found that impossible to accept.

This was the modern world, not the Middle Ages. The Five Nordic Countries were hardly populous, and their population records were comprehensive. They should have found the man's information with ease.

Yet the Five Nordic Countries had failed to find so much as a trace of him.

If he's a citizen of Bear Nation, that explains everything.

No matter how complete the Five Nordic Countries' databases are, they don't have access to Bear Nation's records.

But Fyodorovich still needed to confirm it.

He pulled up a photo on his phone of the man attending a meeting at Iceland Coast Guard headquarters and asked gravely, "Is this him?"

Why does the major general have a photo of this man? And from the background, he looks to be getting along famously with Iceland's president.

Could it be that superhumans haven't appeared only recently? Could they have existed since ancient times, just like people online say? Has the government hidden the truth and used science to mislead the public, while superhumans have been working for it in secret all along?

But why have I never heard about this? I'm an expert too, and I know plenty of people. With all my drinking buddies in the government, how has not one of them let anything slip? Why has everyone kept me in the dark?

Fair-weather friends really can't be trusted.

Petrov's heart pounded as he wondered how to come clean without getting himself killed. Should he say he had hallucinated? Or that his old habit of conning his superiors out of research funding had kicked in, so he had instinctively fed Major General Fyodorovich a story?

Why does it feel like I'm in trouble no matter what I say? But if I say nothing, it'll be even worse.

Forget it. I'll explain everything. At worst, they'll lock me up. That's better than dying.

Petrov summoned his courage and opened his mouth. "Major General, I..."

Fyodorovich turned toward Petrov, but his phone rang.

He checked the caller ID, brought his legs together, and stood ramrod straight. His manner became utterly formal. "Mr. President... Yes. All right, I'll stop immediately... Regarding the superhuman, I've made a new discovery... Yes. All right, I'll send it over at once."

He ended the call and said in a deep voice, "The Five Nordic Countries are holding a security summit to discuss capturing Jormungandr, the giant serpent. They've invited Bear Nation, and the president has accepted. All operations against Jormungandr are suspended until the summit concludes. We'll decide what to do afterward. I trust none of you will tell anyone what happened here."

"Of course."

"We won't tell anyone."

"Our lips are sealed."

The experts and scholars spoke up one after another. They understood the stakes. Leaking this might feel good for a moment, but the consequences would be disastrous. The soldiers would not care about their standing in academia. If they divulged classified information, they could very well be arrested and shot.

Is that it? Is this over?

Petrov breathed a sigh of relief.

I believe you won't tell anyone willingly. What worries me is that you might let something else slip without meaning to.

Just as Bear Nation had thoroughly infiltrated the intelligence services of the Five Nordic Countries, who knew how many foreign agents were lurking in Bear Nation's own intelligence services? If this had only concerned capturing Jormungandr, that would have been one thing. Now another superhuman was involved, and Fyodorovich did not dare take the risk.

I'd better invite them for coffee.

With that thought, Fyodorovich clasped his hands behind his back and cleared his throat. "Ahem... I recently bought a tin of coffee. Instant coffee. It's very good. Would anyone like to stay for a cup?"

The experts and scholars' faces twitched in unison. Coffee? Instant coffee? Can we say no?

As people who regularly dealt with the government to secure funding, these experts and scholars were no fools. This Major General had made himself perfectly clear. If they refused, they would probably be locked up instead of served coffee.

The scientists and researchers still showed some restraint, but the folklore experts abandoned all pretense.

"What brand of coffee did you buy, Mr. Fyodorovich? It must be a famous one. I've never tried brand-name coffee before. I simply must have a taste."

"Coffee that Major General likes must be delicious. Once I've tried it here, I'll buy several tins to drink at home."

"After drinking so much freshly ground coffee, I've come to think instant coffee is the proper way to enjoy it."

Seeing how eager everyone was to try his coffee, Fyodorovich smiled. Of course, instant coffee was coffee in its truest form. Freshly ground coffee was a pretentious affectation.

He nodded. "Soldiers, take everyone for coffee. Petrov, come with me. The president places great importance on your relationship with that superhuman. He wants to take you to the Security Summit."

Petrov's face stiffened. If I say I don't know him now, will they make my death look like a suicide?

Fyodorovich stepped forward and patted him on the shoulder encouragingly. "Do your best. Maybe we'll be colleagues someday. If that happens, coffee's on me."

The Bear Nation president's aircraft, the Il-300, traced a brilliant line across the sky and landed smoothly at Reykjavik International Airport.

President Alexander disembarked under guard, issuing instructions to his secretary as he walked. Behind him, Fyodorovich spoke quietly to Petrov, giving him a few last reminders.

"Don't be nervous. Don't put pressure on yourself. Just think of it as going to a concert by a celebrity you often see on TV."

I'm not stressed because I'm going to meet so many presidents. I'm stressed because I don't know the man at all.

Petrov felt awful. It was as if the countdown to his death had begun, yet he could not tell anyone the truth.

If I keep quiet, there's still a chance they can save me. If I tell them, I'll drop dead on the spot.

"...Just follow the plan when we reach the venue. I'll back you up."

"Major General Fyodorovich," Petrov said suddenly.

Fyodorovich looked at him curiously. "What is it?"

"I need to pee!"