No More Learning

„We have to discuss something, Frank. You can rest here -

see you later! ", said Alf and showed Kohlhaas an old bed in

an untidy and halfdark room with a dark red, peeling

wallpaper. Frank turned to the side and tried to sleep. He

hardly made it, but nevertheless, the young man had the

feeling that he already felt better. After he had been in a



57



condition of dozing for some hours, he finally nodded off. He
did not dream about anything. It was just black in his head.
As black as it had always been in the holo cell, in the eight
artificial hours of the night.

Next day. . .

„We have escaped the next cops by the skin of our teeth, as

I think. I feel sorry for Rolf Weinert, a good man, only 29

years old", said Alf to the others. „Thank you, that you have

delivered me from this hell. I know, I always seem to be

hard and tough, but I was also close to the end in "Big Eye".

That other guy is simply wasted, but it would probably be

the same with us all, if they would cage us in a holo cell for

eight months. This Frank is a poor creature! "

„We haven't planned the liberation of a second man, Alf! ",

remarked a young man with red hair.

„So what? What should have been done? Would it have

been right, to let this Frank just die? He would not have

survived one more week in "World Peace", got it? ", returned

Baumer.

„Well, actually the fate of an unknown man is not interesting

for us. The only important thing is our own thing, okay? ",

said another man sternly.

J will care for him. What will he do? Call the fucking

Lithuanian police? ", grumbled Alf with an angry face.

„This is a real problem, Baumer! If the guy becomes a

safety risk, we must kill him. You know about our rules! ",

said a blond man.

„l know that, little boy! You don't need to tell me our

principles! I have already joined our fight in a time, when

you were nothing but a panty wetting baby! ", hissed Alf in

the direction of the young fighter.



58



„Peace, people! You were successful and you are still alive!
Meanwhile, only the big armored busses are used for
prisoner transports since two years. This has been an
exception! The fact that they have used an outdated
transport van this time, was just because only two prisoners
had to be transferred to Bonn. And a bus would have
exceeded the budget for such an unimportant trip. These
new tank-like monsters are not so easy to stop. You need a
rocket launcher or something like that, to bring them to a
halt! ", said a tall man in the background. He was perhaps
about fifty years old.

The man had come later to the small group. His name was
Thorsten Wilden, a former businessman, who had fled to
Lithuania some years ago. Slender, gray haired, with an
oblong face and a remarkable pointed chin. The man
seemed to be very rational and impersonal, and gave the
impression that he had already gone through a lot of
hardship in his life.

. . However, the boy is right. Tomorrow I want to become
acquainted with this Frank. I hope, he won't make us
problems here, otherwise we have no other choice than
silencing him", said the tall man, who apparently had a
leading position is this group of men.
„He won't make problems! Nevertheless, the boy is totally
exhausted! ", meant Alf and rolled his eyes.
„Where is he now? ", asked Wilden.

„ln my house. Thus, I mean, in John's house. He is
sleeping! ", muttered Alf. "I will keep him in sight and I will
also bain for him. Is this enough now? "
"Okay, men! ", shouted the leader of the group. "In the next
days, the good old routine in our village will return for you
all. We have to resow and to do a lot of other work. Alf can
help this new man to recover and I want you, to leave him
alone with this task. By the way, HOK told me, that the



59



release operation has been on TV in "Central Europe",
yesterday evening. We should watch this report, HOK has
recorded everything! "

"Yes, have fun with it, I go home now and want to be alone
for the rest of the day", groaned Alf and left the room.

Dusk was falling and Frank lay between some unwashed
pillows. A great burden slowly fell from his soul and his
mind, which had swollen like a red, throbbing growth. Now
the pain began to fade away. In the next room he heard a
rustle, shortly thereafter loud smacking and the sound of
cutlery on a plate. Some minutes later, his sponsor entered
the room. „You must eat something! Here! " Alf presented
him some slices of bread and two fried sausages.
„Thanks! ", said Frank and ate slowly and leisurely. „You
don't have to worry. Nobody can find us here. We are in
Lithuania. Far away from Germany and this „One-World"
cage called "Central Europe". Eat, and then I let you sleep
again", whispered Alf, trying to calm him down.
It was a weird situation. If Frank would have seen Alfred
Baumer in former times on the street, then he would
probably have gone to the other side. This tall man really
looked boldly and violent, what he surely was, if it had to be.
He gave the impression of the typical criminal, who had
received a life sentence.

Brawny, with a dark, pointed beard, a tattoo at the neck and
a keen look. Frank Kohlhaas looked, however, rather
harmless and even still juvenile at first sight, although his
body was also sturdy. He had a dear face with a button
nose and his good-natured smile was characteristic. Mostly
Frank was kind and peaceful.

But in the production complex 42-B, he had lost control over
his feelings and this time had been one time to often. His life
had almost been destroyed by the consequences of this



60



incident. Compared with Alf, whose face always showed
latent rage and frustration, Frank's countenance could
change, in a case of extreme excitement, from good-
natured to psychopathic. If Frank was really furious, his
green eyes started to gaze into space and he threateningly
perked his dark, broad eyebrows up. Then he looked like a
fanatical preacher, somehow mentally absent, with an
indestructible will and ready for everything.
Only a few people had ever faced this sight so far, but
Frank's angry outbreaks had increased in the last years -
slowly and constantly.

Now, however, the former citizen 1-564398B-278843 was
just glad to be with Alfred Baumer. Although it was a man,
he didn't know at all, but who seemed to be a trustable
person.

Despite Alfs aggressive appearance, a honest core
seemed to be under his hard shell. A feeling of hope
sprouted in the heart of the young man. He clung to Alfs
broad shoulder and murmured quietly: „Thanks, man!
Thanks that you have liberated me! You have saved my
life! "

Some minutes he mutely cried in Alfs arms. Then Baumer
pushed him back gently. „lf s okay. You are welcome here! ",
said Alf, who was simply overwhelmed with so much
sentimentality.

"The others have freed me from this damn prison too. "Big
Eye" would have been my doom as well. They put me two
years in incommunicado detention, luckily, I had not the
pleasure to get a so called "therapy" in a holo cell.
I would have gone to hell there, no doubt. Apart from this,
they don't let you just go, when your time in jail is over. One
or two are also liquidated, if their behavior analysis is too
negative. These damn holo cells have once been an
experiment for perfect conditioning and brainwashing. The



61



former "Mind Control", which the NSA, when it still had this
name, had developed together with many other methods",
declared Alf. "These holo cells will be used against all
prisoners with politically incorrect tendencies one day. You
have been one of the first human guinea pigs. It has just
been interesting from them to analyze, how long you would
suffer this torture. Of course, they knew that you would not
survive this procedure! "

"Fuck these rats! ", said Frank and tried to banish the
thoughts about the terrible time in the holo cell.
"The entire political and historical background can't be
explained in two sentences, above all, if you have never
thought about it before", ended Alf his small speech.
Frank signaled by turning around and pulling the cover over
his head, that he wanted to sleep now. It was 21. 16 o'clock
and the young man was still exhausted and weak. He dozed
for a while and examined the shabby, dark red wallpaper,
then he fell in a deep and restful sleep.

On the next morning, Frank Kohlhaas felt unusually
recovered. He had slept over 13 hours and for the first time
since months, he had not awoken with a start in the middle
of the night. He yawned and noticed that Alf had put some
fresh dresses beside his bed.

Kohlhaas still wore his white prison clothes, which smelled
of sweat and were still covered with dark red traces of the
policeman's blood.

Frank plodded out of his room and noticed that it was very
quiet in the house. Nobody sat in the kitchen, so that he
could look around without ruffle or excitement. Everything
looked very poor. Dirty dishes were piled up in a rusty sink
and in the corner of the room, an ugly mold spot was on the
wall. Indeed, Alf lived in a hovel - if it was his house at all.
However, his housemate seemed not to be here. The young



62



man walked over some old wood stairs to the upper floor,
where he found only a few empty and poorly furnished
rooms. One of them was full of cardboards and wooden
boxes, almost up to the ceiling. But Alf Baumer was
nowhere to be found.

„Where am I here at all? ", thought Frank and scratched his
head.

Since the escape from "Big Eye", he hadn't been in the
condition to think about these strange men, who had
rescued him. Who were they?

He opened the entrance door of the house and stepped
outside, left it open a bit, so that he could come back again,
because he had no key for the ramshackle door. When he
looked down the street, in which Alf s house was, Kohlhaas
saw a lot of further hovels on each side. Some of the
houses seemed to be empty, others had weathered fronts
and in the gardens, a sprouting, uncontrolled growth was
spreading everywhere.

Some of the windows had been nailed up with rotted
boards, probably long ago. One house had even a
collapsed roof. In addition, here and there, one of the
houses had been renovated again and Frank heard the
voices of children out of a side street. He could even
understand their language, it was German.
Nevertheless, the sun shone on all the roofs, whether
desolate or repaired again. But many people didn't seem to
live in this rundown village. Finally, Frank saw two men, who
unloaded crates out of a delivery van. A tractor rattled
somewhere in the distance and a mature woman leaned out
of the window in the house opposite to him.

Frank walked down the road and came to a square, which
probably must had been the center of the small village in
former times. Weed sprouted out of the cracks between the



63



cobblestones, which covered the whole place. Here, in the
center of this ghost town, Frank could see three old houses
with big shopwindows. Two of the large windows were
broken and the buildings looked dilapidated. The
shopwindow of the other house was completely plastered
with yellow cellotape. In the center of the square was a
memorial stone, completely overgrown with all sorts of
grass and bushes. It was surrounded by a wooden fence.
Kohlhaas could hardly recognize the memorial stone and,
apart from this, the inscription on it was in Cyrillic, so that
the man from "Central Europe" could not read anything.
On the stone, a soldier with a helmet and a rifle was shown.
Nevertheless, Frank had already seen this helmet from the
old time in a history book. Furthermore, he was able to
decipher the years, which had been engraved on the
memorial stone: 1941 and 1989.

The young man continued his walk and regarded a
moldered church, which stood next to the village square. Its
roof was damaged and had enormous holes, bricks covered
with moss and lichens lay in front of the rotten, wooden front
door, that was adorned with a hardly recognizable picture.
On the tower was a rusted cross of iron. The winged thing
on the door of the church, which was completely overgrown
with lichens, was probably an angel, that had symbolically
welcomed the people at the entrance of the church in the
old times.

But in a world, that had been left alone by God, perhaps
even this angel had lost his "job" one day. Frank pushed the
large wood door to the side and climbed over a pile of
planks, in order to reach the inner part of the old church.
Dried out leaves, dirt and dust were everywhere on the
ground in front of him. The benches of the old building were
dirty and everything made the impression of being lost. The
altar was also damaged and had small tears and cracks,



64



probably because of the cold of a hard winter. The visitor

finally turned his head towards the ceiling and examined the

wooden frescos on the walls, which also showed traces of

decomposition. Frank beheld some angels, that were

fighting against strange looking demons or something like

that - creatures from hell. Other frescos depicted mother

Maria and Jesus Christ.

"The superstar of Christianity. . . ", said Frank to himself and

smiled cynically. This church appeared old and somehow

also sublime. The chapel had possibly been built in the late

Middle Age, but Frank did not know it for sure. He knew

nothing about history.

But the young man didn't care about the age of this church.

Only one thing was true - the building touched his inner

self, although, he never had believed in anything.

Maybe just because it was beautiful and old. In his previous

world, he had never beholden an old building.
Gray

plattenbauten, dirty streets, underpasses and factories were

nothing new to him, but he had never looked at old

churches or castles. This house of God was just like a

memorial of a forgotten time. A time far beyond this dark

age.

The church had probably been the heart of this village for

many decades or even centuries. At this place, the people

had prayed to a higher power, begging it to take care of

them. But in the end, it all had come differently. In the year

2028, mankind was alone, and Frank had never noticed a

higher power, that wanted to protect its children.

„Father, if you exist at all, why have you left us? ", said Frank

quietly to himself and looked at the fragile ceiling of the old

building again. Then he went back to the square.

He walked through the hopeless village for several hours.
Again and again, up to the other end and back. Around the



65



locality were fields and forests, and only a muddy street
seemed to connect it with the rest of the world. The young
man sat down on a bank and looked at the sky, when three
little children, probably those, who he had already heard
before in the side street, ran across the road in front of him.
They briefly examined him and smiled, but Frank didn't take
heed of them.

Somewhere a dog barked in a house, which looked
inhabited. He stood up and passed some vacant, rundown
houses. This village, the renegate citizen had already
forgotten its name, was a bleak place, as Kohlhaas thought.
Nevertheless, he prefered this village to the rotten, former
FRG capital Berlin, his old home. He wouldn't miss the
criminality, the cultural and racial tensions and all the decay,
that was typical for the shabby metropolis, where he had
grown up. Now he was here. In this strange hicktown. . .
„lvas! " Now Frank remembered the name of the village. Alf
had said it several times. Ivas, somewhere in Lithuania. But
what was this for a strange village? Frank Kohlhaas was
puzzled.

Meanwhile, he was tired and his shoes were completely
covered with mud. He finally decided to return to Alfs
house, because the front door was still open, although it
was improbable, that the other villagers would steal from
them. It was not like in Berlin. Soon the day came to an end.
Frank didn't know yet, where he was here.

„ln three days we must leave this house, Frank! I must leave

it too, because it is doesn't belong to me", explained

Baumer after a meager lunch.

„As I already guessed. Whose house is it? "

„lt belongs to another villager, who is currently in Minsk to

buy some things", answered Baumer. „Wilden has said, that

we can live here for a few days. If the owner comes back



66



home, we can surely move to one of the other vacant

houses in the village. "

„What is that for a odd village? ", murmured Frank.

„Wilden will explain it to you tomorrow. Actually, he already

wanted to talk to you today, but you were not here. You took

a little walk, isn't it? ", said Alf, whose tiredness meanwhile

shone in his eyes.

„Tell me, where are you from, Baumer? ", asked Frank

suddenly.

„Well, I was born in Dortmund and have lived in some other

cities in the Ruhrgebiet, also in Frankfurt am Main, for four

years", said Alf and took another tea.

„Why have they brought you to „Big Eye"? , Frank became

curious.

„My God, you ask a lot. But well, you will have to remain

here in Ivas, this is hopefully obvious to you, and therefore, I

will tell you a few things about me. "

Alfred Baumer decided to make another camomile tea and

went to the boiler. Then he fetched a cigarette and began

with a small lecture about his life.

Frank actually didn't want to know all the details, but Alf

seemed to look forward to a little speech. Now he was

awake again.

J had troubles with the authorities since my 16th year of life.

I was active in various political groups, which you don't

know, as I think. Anyhow, they are all forbidden since many

years.

I have already been in jail for one year in 2013 - when the

political system of the FRG still existed. They have punished

me for so called "opinion crimes" - because I have designed

a few Internet sites, which were uncomfortable for the state.

At that time, I was just 19 years old. My parents have lost

their jobs during the great world economic crisis in 2012/13,

and have jettisoned me after my term of imprisonment. I



67



have never returned back home again. Afterwards, I have

lived with some friends, in various housing groups, and of

course also alone. After six years, in 2020, I have joined the

Red Moon groups, always trying to live inconspicuously.

Nevertheless, it has gone wrong. "

„The Red Moon groups? " Frank looked surprised. „They

were terrorists, isn't it? These guys have burned a hospital

in Berlin, right? "

. . That's nonsense! Lies! ", grumbled Alf and gave Frank an

annoyed glance.

„l'm sorry. They have said it on television at that time",

remarked Frank and tried to calm down his comrade.

„On television. . . on television. . . ! Nevertheless, fucking

television is even the biggest lie of that world system, man!

Didn't you understand this yet? ", grunted Baumer and felt

accused wrongly.

„No offense meant! ", apologized Kohlhaas.

„No, it is a lie, Frank. The Red Moon groups publicy

protested against the World Government and united

thousands of young people in their fight. Opponents of

globalization, free philosophers, patriots and others. After

that damn hospital hoax, which the media exaggerated with

all their might, we were criminalized. It had been the work of

the GSA, the international secret service, there is no doubt

for me. It has not been activists of our group! However, the

following crusade of the international media, broke the neck

of the Red Moon organization. Tell me, why should a group

of freedom fighters burn innocent people in a hospital? ",

asked Alf with visible rage.

„Do you see the tattoo on my neck? This is the „Red Moon",

the blood-red moon of the fight for liberty - our old symbol! "

„l don't know enough about all this and I don't care. . . ", said

Frank. „l only know, that I hate that goddam World



68



Government, that terrible system - from the bottom of my

heart! "

„Then Ivas is the right place for you, my friend! ", said Alf and

stared at his tea cup, clenching his fist.

„And then? ", asked Frank.

„Then? Then I was still active. After the Red Moon groups

were forbidden worldwide, we continued our struggle in the

underground. Finally, I was arrested during an illegal,

spontaneous demonstration, which I have organized with

some of my comrades. I had to go to jail again.

My time in „Big Eye" began and I can be glad, that they did

not find other loading material during the house search at

that time, otherwise I would have been liquidated. "

„What material? ", questioned Kohlhaas. Alfred Baumer

looked at him and shook his head.

„You ask very much for a man, who still was flat on his face

a few hours ago. Never mind! That would have made me

more than just some problems, believe me. So I was

sentenced to nine years of detention, only because of the

spontaneous demonstration. I would have never endured

that. In my time as an activist of the Red Moon groups, I

became also aquainted with some of these weird guys from

here. They have already told me years ago, that I should

escape from the sector "Central Europe", to come with them

to Lithuania.

Nevertheless, I was not willing to give up the fight in my

homeland, because it was my aim, to liberate it from this

global insanity. Today I say to myself, that it was just stupid

to wait for so long. It would have been wiser to leave

"Central Europe" in time, because the great enemy is much

too strong in the West. "

„Well, now you are here. And me too. The best thing that

could happen to us, Baumer. This fucked up sector "Central



69



Europe" shall go to hell, it shall rot forever! ", hissed Frank
and wiped off some tea drops from his lip.
"We must not let our compatriots go to the hell! It is our
country! No, we are not on vacation here! We just relocate
our fight. We will only surrender, when the maggots corrode
us in our graves! ", answered Alfred and put his foot down.
Frank was astonished and observed his partner, who
snatched the teapot with a loud curse. "We are not on
vacation here! "

Frank was surprised about this statement, his housemate
had shouted out with so much passion. What did Alf mean
by that?

Again, Frank Kohlhaas slept well and firmly. He had

amazingly regenerated himself, in this short time.

Sometimes he even felt euphoric.

„l am not even afraid of the devil! ", he thought then and

smiled proudly.

But it was not that simple. The aftereffects of the holo cell

were far more malicious, than he could imagine and they

were still there, deep in the dark corners of his brain. They

just lay in wait and planned to erupt, in order to strangle

Frank's peace of mind, while he was sleeping.

Like the mourning, after the death of a beloved person,

usually comes in waves, it was the same with the mental

horror, the holo cell had unleashed in Frank's mind.

The dread had only entrenched itself and waited now, in its

fortified position, for the signal to attack Frank again. No, the

fright wasn't gone. But in these first days of his new

freedom, Kohlhaas had a peaceful time - so far.

The rain pattered on the corrugated iron roof of the small
shed in front of Frank's window, and the untiring noise
made him wake up. It was already after ten o'clock on this



70



wet morning and the young man rolled from one end of the

bed to the other. Suddenly Alf entered the room and said:

„Good morning, Frank! Please get up! Wilden is here and he

would like to talk to you! "

The village boss already sat in the kitchen and sipped his

coffee. He welcomed Frank friendly and told him to follow

him to his house after the breakfest. Somehow, the situation

was unpleasant for Frank, but he tried to avoid problems

and obeyed.

„We must talk about some things, Kohlhaas! ", remarked the

leader of the village community, who wore a long gray coat

and a hat with a narrow brim.

The rain had softened the muddy roads of the village, and

Frank waded behind the somehow authoritarian and

impressive Mr. Wilden through the dirt. After a short foot

march, they finally came to an amazingly well renovated

house, which was even surrounded by a beautiful garden.

„We go upstairs! ", said Wilden.

The former entrepreneur sat down behind an adorned desk

of dark wood and remained silent for some minutes. Frank

took a seat on a soft armchair of black imitation leather,

which smelled cleaned. He looked around. The room

seemed to be an office and was in a perfect condition.

Everywhere he could see pictures on the wall with the light

brown wallpaper: battle paintings, framed photos of some

great men from the old times and a lot of other things.

„Well, Frank Kohlhaas. Do you like our village? ", asked the

gray-haired man, smiled and tried to take the uncertainty

from his young guest.

„Nice! ", was Frank's short answer.

„Nice! ", repeated Wilden soberly. J want to make it short,

and I will not talk around the bush", said the village boss

and looked out the window.



71



Then he continued: „This village is called Ivas. It is in the

area of the former state of Lithuania, in the southwest part

of this actually beautiful country. It is small and insignificant.

A small village, that has been abandoned by its former

inhabitants under the pressure of the worldwide economic

collapse some years ago. A ghost town, as you may know

them from North America.

"Aha. . . ", said Frank.

„This village is so small and so unimportant, that even the

sharpest eye must look twice to see it", explained Wilden.

. . Therefore, I am safe here! ", joked Frank.