The Secret Histories.

[LMNO]

"Niels, I don't care what the numbers show, I'll be fucked if I try to present this as what it really is!"

"But what can you do?  Clearly, when we work the equations out to their logical extent... Well, you've seen it yourself."  He shuffled around a large oaken desk, and gestured at a dark metallic box that was placed on one end.  Although no longer young, the physicist seemed much older than his 42 years suggested.  "Whatever we have done, we have opened the door to something much greater than ourselves.  The truth must be told."

Albert thrust himself up from his chair.  "No.  What you're proposing is insane.  Don't you see the implications of this?  You really plan announcing that anyone with a sufficient education can rend space and time and allow those... things into our universe?"

"If not now, then when?"

"NEVER!"  For fuck's sake, Niels, put away your Taoism bullshit for just one second.  We're not even ten years past the Great War.  You know that the majority of humans are cruel and petty.  If anything, our duty as rational humans it to promote Reason.  Your calculations defy reason entirely – they're meant to deny reason.  And just as Goya prophesized, "The Sleep Of Reason Produces Monsters." 

"Albert, come now.  What we discovered, what we have contained..."

He brandished a finger at the box.  "You've seen it!  You saw what it did to young Max!  You've even heard the screaming in the void!  How can you not say that these immensely powerful fiends are a danger to our universe's vey existence?" 

The box began to thrum, seeming to take notice of the attention Albert was making of it.  He closed his eyes, trying to shut out the memories of that night, where the numbers began running together, creating new patterns, new forms, new solutions to unnamed problems that could not even be spoken using a human tongue.  He remembered the heat, the tearing, the searing shrill shrieking as the fabric of the universe unraveled and the blistering void erupted from the page, and the things... They had been sleeping, and then one opened a single eye...  He shook his head to clear it of what came after.  Of what happened to Max.  "Niels, please.  I beg of you, do not do this."

"Albert, Albert..." He sighed.  "What would you have us do?  The numbers work.  They offer a solution.  We are scientists.  Would you have me offer up lies?"

"In this case, yes!  It wouldn't be hard.  The math is advanced enough that it's practically philosophy anyway.  All we have to do is set them down the wrong path.  As of today, we can no longer be scientists, impartial to the heart of humanity.  As of today, we must be the silent saviors of the human race."

"Contradictions, then."  The man's face twisted in disgust, as if tasting something rotten.  "You would have us retreat to the artificially ineffable."

"Yes, I would do that.  I will do that.  We must enforce the idea that Heisenberg was right.  We did not find a solution to the particle/wave duality.  We will introduce radically different solutions to account for this.  Off the top of my head, we can make multiple worlds work, as well as some sort of reversed time field.

"Furthermore, we must treat this as contentious, Neils.  You will insist that there is no fixed number; you will not offer a solution to the idea of probability fields, and I will insist that God does not play dice with the Universe."

"Albert," said Neils, with a sad tremor in his voice, "we have proved there isn't a God."

"I know, my friend.  We have proved there is something much, much worse.  And we must protect our world from such things."

[Luna]

They said she was an entertainer.  A little girl from foster care who got noticed.  Poor little girl who turned out to be a beauty, fame and fortune, the world at her pretty feet.  Sure, the dumb blonde thing was a front, people got that.  She was an actress, after all, and that shit sold.

She almost got away with it.  Her target was known for being something of a womanizer, after all.  It was fairly well known that she'd charmed her way into the bed of the most powerful man in the world.

She almost got away with it that first try.  It was a close call, and the President would have died if the drink with extras she'd slipped him hadn't wound up ignored on the nightstand.  She wouldn't have been caught, except for that thirsty maid.

A visit from Bobby, and an "accidental" overdose might have ended it.  Her body was found, the country mourned her...  If she'd been a normal, everyday human, it would have worked.  Instead, the crypt was empty the day after the funeral.

Everybody loves a parade, and an open top car leaves so many opportunities.  The world would have been a different place, if that stunning blonde on the grassy knoll hadn't pulled the trigger.  She knew what it would be, after all, the history books all said it all changed during his second term.  The first breakthroughs, the government endorsed scientific discoveries...  Humans were never meant to live for so long.  Near immortality... and the children kept coming.  Famines, wars over the rumors of stashed resources...  better the death of the man who destroyed humanity

[Doktor Howl]

Hell yes.

[LMNO]

Nicely done, Luna!  I wasn't sure where that was going.  Sweet!

[Luna]

I wasn't quite sure where it was going, myself, it just sorta wrote itself.  I love it when that happens.

It just took me some cussing to get it out of the word processor on my phone to here.   

[Mesozoic Mister Nigel]

Beautiful!

[Anna Mae Bollocks]

It is.

I'd like to see it expanded. 

[Doktor Howl]

I have a surprise for you scurvy bastards tomorrow, concerning this here fread.

[Anna Mae Bollocks]

YAY!
OSHI-
YAY!
OSHI-

Damn suspense!

[LMNO]

"Agent 87.  Report."

"The operation is still going to plan, sir.  Our ten year strategy now has the target fully entrenched and indoctrinated."

"How can you be so sure, Agent?"

"Through extensive field work, sir.  Our developers have been quite thorough, influencing the media in one direction and then tainting the resulting counterculture to follow a path to self-destruction.  Our agents went through painstaking research and training in order to make this new direction appear to be organic and natural."

"I see.  And you... It says here you personally volunteered to spearhead this effort."

"Yes, sir.  While the idea was not my own, I felt I was already in a position to adopt a high-level position of prominence, without the appearance of fraud and pandering."

"The youth problem... Yes.  That was one major obstacle we were up against."

"Indeed.  However, as I had already infiltrated Berkeley and Harvard, it was an easy move to be dismissed for exactly the sort of controversy that would appeal to the target."

"But all your years at Holy Cross, West Point, even the Army in WWII – No one suspected?"

"The overall plan was already in place when I enrolled in West Point, sir.  They saw I was a bright cadet, and offered me a role.  After they explained what was at stake, I gladly volunteered.  Violating the honor code was the easy part.  Much harder was to make it noticeably controversial.  Though the phrase was made popular much later, our agency had already developed the concept of 'plausible deniability', and we worked very hard to separate any apparent connection I had with my military background."

"Fine, fine.  So you became a guru."

"I couldn't have done it without the biological weapons team, sir.  Once the compound had been developed and Professor H. was assimilated to the cause, our team was able to find a way to render the user harmless."

"In what way?  All reports from the time it was introduced showed, to put it mildly, pronounced agitation and radical behavior."

"Yes, sir.  In average circumstances the compound is quite dangerous to the status quo.  But that was contained to a small group of individuals.  We focused the media on them, and created the public fear.  That drove common culture away, while creating intense curiosity from the counter culture.  At that point, I was able to play the role of guru, and provided the two most important ideas that shaped our target to our advantage."

"Yes, I can see in the outline that our semantics division spent quite some time on them.  But I don't see how two phrases could subvert the subversives."

"It created both the context needed to soothe the agitators, as well as an 'echo chamber' effect to isolate them from any unwanted stimulation.  'Set, setting and dosage' was intended not to inspire the target to action, but to provide a near total hedonistic experience, one where thought was neither desired nor possible.  'Turn on, tune in, drop out' was a rhythmic cue that focused entirely on the last clause, forcing the target to abandon conventional society and focus only on those who have adopted a similar behavior."

"But the riots, the protests..."

"Those were the truly radical, sir.  They were quickly identified and neutralized.  The remaining made noise, but even then, 'the fix was in' as it were.  The decision to withdraw from Vietnam is already in place; giving the appearance that the target has anything to do with it will only increase their delusion, furthering isolation.  Five years from now, when it's all over, they will have nothing to rally around but their own culture, which brings us to the final stage."

"Let's see here... Ah.  Disassociation."

"A crude term, but serviceable.  We have been introducing a different set of compounds into the targets' culture, both from Asia, as well as South America.  While they are in no means rare or unheard of, there is now an increased acceptance of hedonism and pleasure for pleasure's sake.  What used to be perceived as utter helplessness, apathy, and a general pathetic nature is now something that is desired and sought after.  Trust me, once we turn the barest majority of the subculture, use of our original compound will dwindle away; and those who continue to use it will do so only for pleasure.  With these control mechanisms in place, our forecasters have projected the chances of a successful revolution after 1981 at only 7.3 percent."

"So, that's it then.  Your mission is over."

"For the most part, yes.  I still must stay visible, although my behavior must become increasingly erratic.  That can also be used as a deterrent, and will be used to continue to foster the public fear.  I must say, I'm looking forward to my planned bouts of incarceration.  I could use a rest from the public eye, even if it is only for a few years."

"I must say, your commitment to the project is commendable, Dr Leary.  A lesser man would not have been able to do what you have accomplished."

"Thank you, sir.  The status quo must be maintained."

[Richter]

"There are several meanings that can be inferred from them," Jefferson explained, "but they're really as much an experience as a metaphor."

Franklin had taken to a chair, and removing his spectacles, was wiping his forehead and pate.  In front of him, arranged just SO on the credenza were three perfectly painted, preened, and acoutred dolls.  Exceedingly feminine, almost to the point of absurdity.

"Effective, at evoking emotion, certainly." Franklin replied,  "Your drawing of the connection between them and our constituents is apt, if cynical."

"It is a necessary part of the experience Mr. Franklin.  Easy to remember, and one you should not fail to incorporate yourself, when you administer it."

Ben chortled slightly.  "Seems a bit of a loose manner in which to conduct such an initiation, if you'll forgive my doubting of you Thomas."

"Ah, but grips, ciphers and signs have their failings Benjamin.  We guard this secret by our own care, prudence, and mindfulness.  It is only spoken of in person, and only when we are certain of the privacy and veracity of those we speak with.  We never take chances.  It's too important to risk.  A man may be educated, tried, and raised up to a point.  Some qualities though, if not innate or developed by their own volition can never be instilled or told."

"These", Jefferson gestured across the assembled dolls, "are the only means we have of assessing such things."

"I am not ashamed to admit that my first instinct was one of revulsion.  Perhaps destructive impulse as well."

"Exactly, but you DID no such thing!  The action, or lack thereof, speaks louder than the impulse, for it is impulse conquered. That is the desired intent of the exercise.  It is no great secret how you value simplicity and plainness.  If anyone, the baroque and gaudy appearance of these poppet would vex you the most.  Much like those we represent, they make their ways simply to become fancy or comfortable, and extend themselves beyond their means on such superficialities.  Yet you saw beyond that.  Despite your power and your freedom to smash them as you will, you did not.  There is no need to love or cherish them, but the ability to diffuse one's malice from them is vital in the exploits we are about to undertake."

"Has anyone ever failed this examination?"

"Oh yes.  You know how they fail too now.  The last fellow to do so, a certain Arnold we all know of, we made certain he came to certain ignoble position."

Franklin straightened, his eyes widening with his trademark sincere gravitas.

"Indeed?  Who would believe his tales of this initiation then?  Already being branded a traitor in this country, given his pittance and set aside by the crown..."

"It was a dirty thing to do.  He had to be removed, or discredited totally.  It was perhaps the merciful option." Jefferson said.

"As you say, perhaps.  Poor Benedict."

"Life rarely announces what is at stake beforehand.  It is only by providence and skill that we make our way some times.  Enough of heavy matters though.  Would you take a short drink and a pipe with me?"

"So long as we do not shortly drink a whole pipe, please.  Before we move on though, you said I am to administer this trial myself?"

"Where you find need.  I will have a doll boxed and sent with you, others you should commission from whatever maker seems apt.  No one questions it, since we all have daughters or relations in need of gifts.  It is your discretion, but customarily, each of us does not do so more than once each year."

"Very well. Who else might you be seeking to induct?"

"Hamilton may be the only one you know.  I am uncertain about him, but it is a needed risk."

"Alexander?  Hah, you'd have a hard time painting him a traitor."

"No, he's too forthright to live with such a thing too.  A duel gone wrong, perhaps."

"Dark business Thomas, let us move on."

"Indeed."       

[LMNO]

OHO!  You're stretching this out.  I like.

Incidentally, if no one understood my last two offerings, let me know and I can stop being so oblique about them.

[Richter]

That's what strikes me as fun about this project, lots of room to establish and run with plot threads.  I'll tag via PM before I do any tie-ins though, so not to step on toes.

Think I'm taking this post WW2 next.

[Telarus]

http://www.ghanamma.com/2012/05/im-gay-and-the-head-of-illuminati-in-nigeria-charly-boy/

[Triple Zero]

OHO!  You're stretching this out.  I like.

Incidentally, if no one understood my last two offerings, let me know and I can stop being so oblique about them.

The one about Leary was my favourite ITT, so far Your other about the physicists was also pretty good, and you know I'm always a sucker for Lovecraftian references

Luna's one was pretty enjoyable as well, would have been perfect if she managed to fit in a Happy birthday, Mr President reference in there somewhere

Sadly, I seem to lack the history knowledge to "get" much of the OP and Richter's two pieces. I guess we weren't taught much about US history much in school (nowhere near as much as you guys, anyway) and I seem to have forgotten most about Stalin.

Even though we probably had the best history teacher one could wish in high school, he basically told stories the whole class, subject to the curriculum/book of course, but they were his stories, with his personal insights among them. You were expected to take notes though (I never needed to do that with math or physics at high school level) and at the start of each lecture he picked out a few students that were expected to reproduce the assigned homework learning (the topics of the previous lecture, basically) pretty much verbatim (well, you were supposed to cover all the facts, which felt like verbatim to me because unlike math where you could simply crank your brain and work it out from base principles, this was rote memorization), bonus points if you were able to reproduce bits he told during lecture that weren't in the book. He was old, very stern and strict, old-fashioned teacher, but he was really good at it. The kind you say "they don't make em like that any more". Unfortunately, rote memorization felt like torture to me. I also just don't seem to have a knack for remembering history, it just leaks out. I know this because German class in high school was similarly horrible (rote memorizing tenses and idioms), same for French, kind of. But I can speak German quite reasonable now (writing is harder), and I feel my French is merely shitty because I'm hardly exposed to it, ever.