Danjel sat in the car for two minutes or so, watching the soldiers on the corner in the mirror. Russian, he was certain of it, from the uniforms. It was late afternoon now, and the street about the library was more crowded than he'd seen any of the streets since returning to town. Finally, Danjel left his car, walked slowly up into the library.

      The lobby was filled with conversation, it halted him, the very volume of speech within the confines of the library. Claudia should still be here, unless something had happened to her. No, he couldn't think like that.

      Danjel moved further into the library. She wasn't near the banks of terminals. He scanned the interior for pale blonde hair and a gray cloak. Maybe she had removed the cloak, but he had no idea what dress she wore, though it usually was a dress.

      A girl was approaching him. "Lost?" she asked. Was she flirting or just suspicious, Danjel wondered.

      "Where would one find the existentialists?" He asked finally.

      "I'll show you. Haven't seen you around, another newcomer?"

      "No, I grew up here. I'm Danjel Poznanski."

      The girl halted suddenly. "Oh." Somehow the name was a disappointment. "You're Rudolph's half-brother. You have been away a long time."

      Danjel understood. He might not have, except that Rudy and he were of an age that they recognized each others old girlfriends from their reactions upon being introduced. Rudy had done this girl wrong in some way, though Danjel was sure it was purely ideological. It was that the girl had a certain intelligence about her, and though Danjel disliked many things about his brother, he knew he'd never raise a hand against a woman.

      "Show me, please," Danjel asked, "I'm sick of him sometimes too."

      She nodded, continued through an aisle of paper books.

      "What is your name?" Danjel asked.

      "Karina."

      The name was unfamiliar. She must have been a recent ex to Rudolph.

      "Your friends are here," Karina said. Danjel would have asked about the plural but he could see Claudia had others about her. Leon was there and a couple unknown to Danjel. Karina made no move to leave and Danjel suspected she and Claudia had spoken previously.

      "John!" Claudia greeted him. He had to smile.

      "Because I am her devoted disciple," Danjel said for benefit of those who knew this was not his name. Danjel was not entirely sure why Joy had named him that, she'd only said he reminded of her of someone with the name.

      Claudia had her portable computer on the floor where she sat, and she and a young man about Danjel's age held books. Danjel sat at Claudia's side, noted that Karina stood but was still with them. He greeted Leon quickly. Claudia was speaking. "Oh, it was fine. Kit wants to meet you."

      Claudia shook her head, not sadly he thought. "This is Karl and Merideth. They are journalists for a Berlin daily covering the war. Your family was correct. Many local people discuss the war here, and fights are forced outside and broken up by the soldiers. There are so many different factions. Karl was telling me just now about some of them. And We were telling Leon of history and philosophy."

      "She called me a Vandal," Leon said.

      Danjel laughed. This one he understood. "Vandals were the tribe that lived here long ago. We must have painted graffiti on monuments in Rome because they named every unknown graffiti artist afterward vandal."

      "That's mostly true," Claudia said.   

      Karl called to Danjel and so he looked at the other young man. They were of the same build and age. Karl had very light eyes, of a blue not different by much than that of Claudia's eyes. Danjel found himself gazing. "I would appreciate any information you could share with me on the various factions operating in Poznan. You understand, I only want to write a good story, and they are not as likely to confide in me, knowing that I am a reporter." He spoke with a recognizable German accent that was not unlike Berliner and so Danjel supposed Karl came from an eastern city rather than from a rural area or very far west.

      "What factions?" Danjel asked and looked at Claudia.

      She smiled a confession. "Well, Karl and Merideth have been here longer than we have and were telling me what they had learned. I thought it made sense to categorize people into factions and it has worked out rather well. I can use an example. Your sister, Wendy, she would be Nationalist as far as political factions go. Nationalists care about their own country above either Union or Estates Liberte."

      Danjel tried to look at the screen of Claudia's portable but t danced with swirls of color at being idle. "OK, explain to me."

      It was Karl that spoke, leaning in toward all of the group and Danjel guessed they might really want to keep this to themselves. "So far, we have observed about five separate political factions. Union are of course those of the Union who remain loyal. Libertarians are those living in Union areas who side with the cause of the Estates Liberte. Then there are the rather neutral Nationalists who do not choose EL or Union over another but are concerned about their home country. Then there are the Vichy, named after particular historical faction in France, they live in EL areas, but are loyal to the Union. Finally, are the EL themselves."

      Danjel nodded. It seemed to be simple. Unfortunately he doubted all people would fit into a category.

      "Then there are the religious factions which sometimes overlap the political ones," Merideth said and her English was much closer to the way his half-siblings spoke it.

      Claudia tipped her head to one side. "I refer to the three religious factions as Papist, Loyalist and Pacifist."

      Danjel chewed at the inside of his cheek. Papist obviously would be the name for those that followed the Pope. All Catholics were supposed to, but because the Pope was now in Moscow, and gave the Russian movement into Poland his blessing, the Catholics were divided. Danjel, for one, remained Catholic, but could not make himself believe that God inspired Russians to occupy Poland, or that this war was in any way holy. So, Loyalist might describe those who remained loyal to the Union or their local government no matter what the Pope claimed. Pacifists were obviously those against the war entirely. "OK," Danjel said.

      "There are also factions based on sociology. These mainly have to do with one's stand on or against Darkling rights, and one's stand on the right or wrongness of war. The trick here is, though I am confident I have labeled the factions, each person likely shows overlap in their beliefs. You, for example, are Nationalist Pacifist."

      Danjel shook his head. "But wouldn't a Nationalist want to join the local army?"

      "Nationalist Pacifist, Dear. You choose your people above one government or another but do not believe violence solves the situation at hand."

      "I do don't I?" Danjel laughed.

      Claudia nodded and seemed amused. "If you would talk to the people here you could get an idea of what factions are strong," Claudia said.

                      †               †               †

      Wendy had joined them, and with Karina, Karl and Merideth still following, Danjel had decided it was best to get some coffee and think before parting ways for the night. He remembered older kids coming here often, before he had left home. This small book-lined shop served coffee and juice drinks, and had computers available for use,camouflaged in cabinetry the way ancient television sets had been.

      There was an older man who pointed out a table to them. After sitting down about the painted table top in mismatched chairs, they were approached by a waitress. She quickly said a hello to Karina, so it was obvious they were acquainted, and then awaited orders. "Could you brew us a pitcher of coffee to begin?" Danjel asked.

      She smiled, round dark eyes looking right at Danjel.

      "Elzbieta," Karina whispered.

      "Thank you, Elzbieta," Danjel called as she walked to the long counter. Elzbieta seemed to sway more as she walked. Danjel looked at his side to Claudia. She was swatting at the sprigs of hair that fell from her ponytail while moving the cursor over icons quickly. Danjel had caught glimpses of the screen before. Claudia passworded everything and labeled nothing as it was. Small floating heads that seemed scans of ancient sepia photos or copperplate engravings were accompanied by names like Nietzsche, Baudelaire and Ingres. A backdrop of green numerals and circuitry against black tricked the eyes and seemed at times to have a face. Popups reported timed events in symbols that could have been Chinese for all Danjel knew. And when the swirls of color danced, Danjel could never figure how to get the floating icons back.

      That machine could make Danjel feel small and unattractive.

      Elzbieta returned with a glass carafe full of coffee, a wooden handle, attached with thin metal hoops and wire, allowed the liquid to be dispensed while hot. Above her head, she balanced six cups on a tray. She placed the tray down and served out the coffee. Karl spoke to her. "Excuse me, miss, I am a war correspondent for a Berlin Daily. Do you hear much of the war working here?"

      Elzbieta froze still. She placed the carafe on the tray. "I'm a waitress, does it look like I get much chance to hear anything but orders?" she asked and put her hands to her hips.

      "If the soldiers come in for coffee, they might speak to each other where you can overhear," Claudia said without looking from her mobile.

      "They don't come here," Elzbieta said, "Only nice men and women who appreciate polish literature, and keep what they take from the net to themselves."

      "Excuse us then, Elzbieta," Claudia said and held up her ID in two fingers without looking away, "30 percent for you and bring us some cookies and anything by Milosz to look at while we eat, we have much to discuss about keeping as many of our people from dying in this war as we can."

      Danjel didn't think flaunting the fact she was rich and could look up famous Polish writers would impress Elzbieta, but when the girl returned she announced that the second carafe of coffee was on the house and then sat down in a nearby chair and asked how they planned to stop anyone from fighting.

      Danjel was more puzzled when Claudia said nothing and looked only at him, just as Elzbieta did. "Well," he began, "it won't be easy, I'm starting to think we cannot save everyone. But, I know that I can't stand to see any of our people go through another war, if there is anything I can do to stop it. Claudia and Karl have been discussing Nationalism, but I've just realized how lacking this categorization is. You see, though I love Poland, and would like it defended, I feel that what really must be spared or cared for is the people. How can I sit here and talk about which government or faction I mean to support, when there are individual people, anywhere, without such a choice, because it has been taken from them?"

      The table, and in fact the whole room, was silent, but for the faint singing of an Anglo-Israeli artist from the concealed speakers.

      "You're right," Merideth said finally.

      "Yeah, I am right," Danjel said mainly to himself. "I didn't come here to give in to choosing sides, I came to help my people. And Claudia did too, even though we come from different people. What I mean is, when wars are fought, so much gets written down about kings and presidents and generals and shifts of power, but anyone who has seen the recent riots or knows of war, can tell you this: that what isn't so often written down is that there are children and mothers and fathers killed. There are farmlands destroyed and animals, so that food is scarce. And it's the people that suffer, not so much any government. Even the soldiers; they are just men and women who have been convinced their families will be safe if they go on following orders."

      "Sometimes," Elzbieta said, "they lock people away in camps simply for being born to one group or another, out of fear of those people."

      "And it is very dangerous right here, there is a great potential for bloodshed, because history between Russia and Poland is one war or border shift right after another. I'm sure the Pope is a good man, and the many Catholics in Poland would like to follow him, but inspired by God as he is, his information about the world comes from men, right now Russian men who really believe they are liberating Poland by marching into it." It was strange to hear Claudia say that, to hear her mention the Pope at all. "In this case, I believe the Pope has been misguided, or is human enough to not have all the information he should before making a decision. He lives in guarded rooms surrounded by priests in Moscow. Can he understand that, by giving a simple blessing to a plan conceived by some Russian general, he is destroying the unity of his own flock? He deserves respect, but at the same time, no one should take his blessing of the troops as dogma."

      "I think you may be right," Danjel admitted, "there need be no conflict. I can remain loyal to my God by doing what he has taught us; to live as Christ. And others can do what God has taught them."

      "Pagans do not have a figure like the Pope, we respect all life for what it is, all people, all creatures. The loss of any of them hurts us all," Karina said.

      "But how to deal with the Russian soldiers?" Karl asked.

      Danjel thought on it. Claudia had tried to tell him. What was it? "They are people too. The answer cannot be violence. If they attempt any crimes, our resistance must be in the form of secret sheltering and aiding of those they attack. Whether they do have plans to occupy Poland after the war is fought or not, I don't know, but even if Poland disappears from the map again, the more important thing is that the people are saved. Even if I have to lead them away until they can return to their homeland later. Too many wars have been fought over borders and claims on ancestral homelands, too many lives lost in the names of God and Country. It's better we forget what we have labeled ourselves than to kill. So, the Russians that come here, they are following orders, convinced they are fighting for their families and about to liberate us. We should let them be."

      "You don't think they will hurt us?" Leon asked.

      "War always hurts," Danjel said, "but it would damage our souls to contribute to the hurt ourselves. Ask Claudia, she has read about history and old tribes. War hurts, but afterward, we always come back, even if it's after marrying into another tribe and loosing our name. We still add to the culture and strength of the new tribe."

      "Yes," Claudia said slowly. "The old tribes were to be admired, but like all people, some had flaws. They fought each other because they feared loss."

      "There is nothing to fear in the loss of land," Danjel said, "Lovely as it is it, is just land. Read any history book. There have been too many wars fought across this continent over differences of race and religion. It would have been grand, if all those old tribes had made peace. So many Celts, Germans and Slavs all wandering across the land without borders drawn, trading information and culture. We might be much better off."

      "A shame the Germans and Slavs had to fight so much," Claudia said. She looked at Danjel and he felt she actually desired him. He looked at her lips, plump cupid's bow parting slightly.

      "As pointless as it was, fighting us all the time, Germans can be rather brilliant."

      "And you have a spirituality...but there was cruelty between the tribes, so that we could sit here and appreciate how flawed that all was. John, we must speak to as many people as possible, make them understand. This fighting is all wrong. And the people who say it has to do with Darkling, you do realize it is just as stupid as fighting between tribes?"

      Danjel looked away from Claudia. "Yeah, I admit I had disgust or hate toward them myself, but, now, I see that was wrong."

      "Meri, this is our story!" Karl said.

      Merideth was smiling. "John, you must let us follow you."

      "Me?" Danjel asked.

      She glanced at Karl but it was not for approval. "These are your ideas, your cause. It's an excellent story, Karl is right, but really, it's a cause I could join. So, let us follow you. Maybe we will send the story to the daily. Anyway, no one else I've heard around here seems to care so much about sparing people pain."

      "I'm not sure I can actually spare the people any..." Danjel began in whisper.

      "But you want to," Wendy said.

      "That I do," Danjel admitted. "Whoever chooses to may follow, but all I promise is to care, to attempt to sway others."

      Karl produced a simple card from his jacket. He passed this to Danjel but Claudia took it. "We are staying in the park north of the city, call us if you want to meet. Merideth and I should go back for now."

      "I should get to work," Elzbieta said, her gaze was warm and soft. "Thursday is open mic. You should come back." She smiled as she rose from her seat. "Come again."

      "And if I can do anything," Karina said, "Wendy has my number."

      Danjel nodded several times. They wanted to follow him?

      "Tomorrow at the church, the old St Casimir," Danjel heard himself say, "You can bring friends."