Starting from South America, speeding through the world

Chapter 258 History of Time
Night had already enveloped the entire city.

With less than half an hour until curfew, the lights in the embassy district remained on.

Built in the early postwar period, this building is located in a corner of the old town and is designed in a typical postclassical style, featuring a huge dome and long colonnades.

In a small briefing room on the third floor of the west wing of the main building, Mason Morris stood by the window.

As far as the eye can see, there are sycamore trees planted throughout the courtyard, their branches and leaves lush and their shadows trembling gently in the wind.

"When do you think they'll arrive?"

Just then, a slightly tired voice came from behind.

Morris turned around at the sound and saw a man around fifty years old push open the door and enter.

Allison, his direct supervisor, is from Massachusetts.

After confirming that there was nothing unusual outside, Morris drew the heavy curtains.

"At the fastest, three days," he said.

"The Japanese mission did not use public channels, but judging from the routes we have tracked, they should have already arrived at a transit point near Prague."

Allison pulled out a chair and sat down, skipping the pleasantries and asking directly, "Whom did they bring?"

"In addition to economic officials, a technology observer was also present, who had previously been involved in the development of plans for operations against China."

Morris paused here, sat down opposite him, and then continued:

"They are now calling it an 'economic inspection,' but judging from the recent moves in Tokyo's cabinet proposals, it is clearly more than that."

Allison frowned upon hearing this.

"Where is the evidence you obtained?"

“It’s still just indirect intelligence,” Morris replied briefly.

“A recently intercepted cable mentions ‘decision-making authorization’ and ‘diplomatic consultations under extreme conditions’.”

"At the end, it also says, 'If Berlin is unwilling to take more forceful measures, we will have to reconsider the order of cooperation.'"

The air seemed to freeze for a moment.

Allison looked up, his expression becoming somewhat complicated.

"They are putting pressure on us."

"And the empire, for the time being, is still buying into this."

The meeting room quieted down, with only the incongruous noise of an old-fashioned electric fan in the corner.

After a long while, Allison leaned back in his chair and let out a long sigh.

"This is not something we can interfere with."

“I understand,” Morris nodded.

But Allison didn't stop there.

He stared intently into Maurice's eyes and solemnly emphasized again:

"Our job is to 'gather information'."

"That's all."

"Don't do more than your duty, don't try to change anything, and especially, don't get involved in that kind of thing."

Morris knew he was referring to the East.

Further east in the Carpathians, across the Dnieper River and the Ural Mountains, over the Pamir Plateau, lies that land.

The relentless struggle and the ever-changing numbers on the death toll.

Morris's expression remained unchanged; he simply nodded calmly in agreement.

Allison then suddenly changed the subject:
"Have you been getting quite close to that editor at the daily newspaper lately?"

“It’s just a routine interview,” Morris smiled. “After all, I’m still holding the title of ‘cultural commissioner’.”

"You are smart and understand the importance of caution."

"But I still want to remind you that the current situation is not suitable for attracting too much attention."

Allison paused, as if weighing whether he should continue, "especially someone with your background."

"Chinese ancestry might have been irrelevant ten years ago, but now..."

Morris tilted his chin slightly back, his expression unchanged.

“I understand,” he said.

Allison nodded, looking as if he wanted to say something but hesitated.

A few seconds later, he seemed to have finally made up his mind and slowly began to speak:
"News came from Washington that they would be 'strategically scaling back' our deployments in Europe."

Allison rarely used such euphemistic language. Therefore, Morris remained silent.

"Many people will be 'recalled'."

"Of course, that's not a punishment, it's just that the policy direction has changed."

“I received a notification this morning,” Allison took a deep breath and looked at Morris, “that you should prepare to leave.”

"The transfer order will most likely be officially issued in the middle of next month."

When he said this, his tone was unusually low.

“This isn’t your fault, Mason,” he said. “You did a great job, you’ve always been professional.”

"Unfortunately, the United States today doesn't need very smart people; all they need is obedience."

The conference room lights flickered twice.

Allison stood up and fastened his coat again.

“I originally thought that no matter how noisy politics was, at least we would not forget what we had paid for that constitution.”

"But now quite a few people are starting to try to 'reinterpret' the history of that year."

His voice was suppressed and cold, carrying a restrained anger.

But in just two seconds, Allison forcibly calmed himself down, as if afraid of overstepping the line, or as if afraid that Mason would misunderstand his meaning.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that."

"Maybe it's a good thing that you can go home earlier."

Morris remained seated, motionless.

Seeing this, Allison sighed again and patted him on the shoulder a few times.

"Get some rest and don't overthink it."

"Anyway, everything will be alright."

After saying that, Allison turned and left the room.

The door closed, and the conference room fell silent once more.

Morris maintained his original posture.

After a long while, he took off his glasses and casually tossed them onto the table in front of him.

It was quiet.

At this moment, the entire building seemed to be asleep.

Morris pulled a palm-sized notebook from his pocket.

Before putting pen to paper, he stared at the pen in his hand and pondered for a moment before starting to write quickly.

Location code, number, and timestamp.

Next, we will move on to the main body of the text.

He would occasionally mark numbers in the margins of the paper for later use in changing the password.

After finishing, he put down his pen expressionlessly, tore off the thin paper, folded it twice, and put it in his pocket.

Morris got up and walked to the door, peering out through the crack.

The light was dim and the corridor was empty.

Apart from the occasional rustling sound from the guards on patrol, there were almost no other sounds.

Morris went down the stairs to the underground.

The walls there were mottled, and the corners were covered with bluish-gray mold.

He walked quickly, turning several corners before stopping at an abandoned storage room near the end.

A rusty padlock hung on the iron gate, which looked like it had been in disrepair for many years.

Morris pulled a thin-handled, long-toothed key from his pocket and fumbled around in the darkness.

Click.

With a soft click, he slipped inside, carefully closed the door, and pulled the latch.

As the cabinet was pulled open, a simple telegraph station was revealed.

The lower half contains the dry cell battery pack and transformer coil, while the upper half contains the keying transmitter.

Morris took a deep breath, took out the note, spread it out on his lap, and touched the cold metal with his right hand.

ECHO-7 192110Z KEY-91/4A PREP M/M
Then, he waited quietly for the confirmation signal from afar.

(End of this chapter)