Even the USSR built apartments rather than force people to live in communal housing developments. And really, apartments are a good in between. You have "your space", but you have to still respect your neighbors more than you would in a suburban environment.
The place where I lived before moving, it was built using old farms (of a kind that is quite widespread around here) as a model: you have several houses, arranged around a central courtyard - indeed, many of those old farms have been turned into housing outright. Basically the picture below, except in a much more urban area than the one shown there:
Denys Shevchenko was a long way from Kyiv. Ever since the pogroms, he and a whole lot of his community had traveled out to the Far East in search of greener pastures free of pogrom-practicing psychopaths.
That was how he ended up in Vladivostok... or as they called it these days, "Haishenwai." Truth be told, he didn't really give a damn what they called it, because it'd been his new home for over a decade. There'd been offers to return to Kyiv after Diterikhs' fall, and some of Vadym's boys had gone back.
The rest, though? Haishenwai was their home, and they'd built lives for themselves over there with the help of Mayor Hlushko. Quite literally, in Denys' case, because his engineering experience was sorely needed.
Which is why I'm here, in this abandoned village at the edge of Kamchatka.
The Bering Strait Tunnel was an ambitious project that (in Denys' eyes) would rival the Panama Canal or any of the tunnels that had been built in Asia.
While the Taiwan Strait Tunnel had managed to connect the island to the mainland, this would be connecting two continents. That alone was enough to get him to sign onto this project.
The money's good, as well. Getting paid a year and a half's salary to freeze my balls off for half of that's a good deal.
"Must be important, if they send somebody like you, up here," he said to the Chinese executive. "We don't get that many suits out here."
"Most 'suits' don't have a Master's in Mechanical Engineering," the not-suit answered through the translator. "So, you said you're a friend of Yurii's?"
"Tak. He helped me get back on my feet when I moved out to Vladiv- I guess it's Haishenwai, now. You, Chen?"
"Met him when I was in the Marines. Humanitarian op, helping out refugees fleeing Diterikhs and Denikin. That was... what, over two decades ago?"
"Something like that. Anyways, as you can see, the tunnel-boring operation is well-underway. This plasma cutter is a Godsend."
"Yeah, tell me about it. That, plus the reactor working as a giant-ass battery to power it."
"Indeed. Enough power to dig halfway across the strait and meet the Americans in the middle. Should be done by the end of the year."
"Thought we were shooting for June?"
"I like to hedge my bets, just in case," Denys chuckled. "Looks better when you finish early, and you're just on time if you're late."
"I like the way you think," Chen sighed, before taking another look around the former ghost town. "How's the reactor looking?"
"See for yourself. Should be right around the- Pizdets."
The sight before him was faster than Chen's translator, and Michael's brain raced even faster.
Dead body. Possibly security.
Need a gun. ASAP. This'll do.
Glock's no 1911, but it's good enough.
"You know how to shoot, Denys?" The engineer shook his head. "Then stay behind me. Security, this is Chen. We have a dead body here. Looks like there's an saboteur I'm tracking them now."
"Security is on the way, sir," the man said in Russian-accented English. "We're already tracking them, so you don't have to do it yourself."
"Works for me."
Five hours later...
"So," Denys asked Michael over security office coffee, "Any update on the culprit?"
"They're as dead as dicks, Denys. " The Chinese man took a sip of his drink before looking up. "Papers say they're one, 'Ivan Ivanovich Ivanov.'"
"That's possibly the fakest name I've ever heard, Mike."
"Yeah, I know. But here's the thing that gets me: They found this on his corpse. You ever see anything like this?"
"That's Tsar Alexander's flag in the middle." Denys practically spat. Those colors were already bringing back bad memories. "Far-right groups would wave it during their marches and pogroms when I lived in Kyiv."
"Alright. And the two-headed bird in the middle... Does that mean they're a monarchist?"
"Not exactly," Denys cautioned, before taking a closer look. "That's the coat of arms of the Empire, but if you add that to the flag and the text... then yes, they are almost-certainly a monarchist."
On one hand, they have had over two decades of a fairly liberal constitutional monarchy, and the far-right has been sidelined. We're talking about over two decades of stability, social progress, prosperity, and rights that way surpass OTL Russia before the Revolution, with a new generation that grew up with these ideals.
On the other hand, the far-right still exists. We have to remember that when there are strides for reform or civil rights, there will be those who oppose them. Whether it's empowering the legislature, land reform, women's rights, or just combating things like racism or antisemitism, there will be those in the general population who will, oppose them.
That doesn't mean progress is not worth fighting for. But unless you (sometimes literally) beat it out of yourself (China, France, Siam, Korea, India), get it beaten out of you (Japan), or are forced to work together (The Ottoman Empire), there is a chance the more-reactionary segments of the population are radicalized.
Is this Russia more-progressive, less racist, less-misogynistic, and less-antisemitic than OTL? Definitely, and it's better for it.
Seriously, it's a Hell of a lot better than it was back in 1911, and that's before we talk about the improvements to the average citizen's quality of life. And like I said, there are a Hell of a lot fewer antisemites than there were OTL.
But that doesn't mean that the people in Russia with those prejudices aren't still around. Sure, combined, they probably make up no more than a quarter of the population at most (and I'm really high-balling it here), but they're still around.
Honestly, the same can be said for America in this story in the mid-1930s. Sure, they are a Hell of a lot better off when it comes to civil rights, economic prosperity, and quality of life. Not to mention that public opinion turned against far-right groups like the Klan after a member tried to kill Teddy Roosevelt.
But at the same time, this is the 1930s. The American population having fewer racists, sexists, and prejudiced people in general than OTL 1930s America still leaves room for a lot of racists, sexists, and prejudiced people.
Like Russia, America has made a whole lot of progress (and that is really, really good!), but there will be blowback, sooner or later.
So will the UAR be made in this TL UAR stands for United Arab Republic and it ideally was to spread from all of the Middle East to Africa and have all of their oil that if closed off could really bring the Great Depression back on like say if the UAR was made and survive to the great oil crash then Reagan era would be dealing with a lot of economic downfall
So will the UAR be made in this TL UAR stands for United Arab Republic and it ideally was to spread from all of the Middle East to Africa and have all of their oil that if closed off could really bring the Great Depression back on like say if the UAR was made and survive to the great oil crash then Reagan era would be dealing with a lot of economic downfall
1. No, the UAR will probably not exist. With a point of divergence around 1911, as well as the rise of the Liberal Union instead of the Young Turks, movements such as the Young Arab Society saw several of their proposed reforms passed. This leads to more reform-minded voices in the Arab intelligentsia taking charge.
2. The demand for Arabian oil is going down. Actually, the demand for fossil fuels around the world is going down by the 1930s.
Between the introduction of electric vehicles, the expansion of railways and public transportation around the world, and an active emphasis on pedestrian and cyclist infrastructure to nip obesity in the bud, the demand for oil will not see the same meteoric rise as it did OTL. Not to mention the mass-rollout of nuclear energy that has largely-killed the demand for natural gas as an energy source.
While there will always be a demand for fossil fuels when it comes to materials and military vehicles, the phasing out of fossil fuels in the transportation and energy sectors would likely minimize any supply shocks in this sector on the global economy.
Threat Assessment: The Knights of the Golden Circle, Federal Bureau of Intelligence
ORGANIZATION: The Knights of the Golden Circle
IDEOLOGY: White Supremacy, Anti-Socialism, White Nationalism, Christian Nationalism, Right Wing Populism, Anti-Catholicism, Anti-Semitism
POLITICAL POSITION: Far-Right
SYMBOL: HISTORY
The Knights of the Golden Circle (KGC) trace their origins to the Second Ku Klux Klan that was formed during the 1910s. While the direct founding of the Second Klan diverges from that of the Lost History, actions such as the Los Angeles Massacre and the attempted assassination of President Theodore Roosevelt were directly-attributed to the organization.
The KGC's rise can be attributed to the fallout of the attempted assassination, as the shift in public opinion against the Second Klan and similar ideologues had led to a massive crackdown on the organization during the rest of the Roosevelt administration, which was continued under the Cox Administration until the Klan was effectively wiped out in late 1925.
The KGC's direct founding is debatable, but it is generally agreed upon that it was founded at Fort Sumter on April 12, 1926 by former Klan Imperial Wizard William Joseph Simmons. Despite infiltration attempts, the organization has continued to expand across the Southern United States, the West Coast, and the Midwestern States by former Klansmen as well as returning volunteers who fought for the pro-European Alliance's "American Divisions," from which it gets its symbolism.
(Symbol of the American Divisions)
HIERARCHY
The KGC's hierarchy is intentionally-based off of that of a Crusader order. While one can discuss the irony of such a situation, it is more-important to discuss the organizational structure.
In short, the organization is headed by a "Grand Master" who leads and commands the organization at-large, while individual cells (known as "Priors") are commanded by "Knight Commanders" in charge of "Knights," the name for the rank and file members of each cell.
Additionally, the Grand Master and each Knight Commander will have a staff of various Knights assigned to them to assist with the operations of their respective offices. These offices include (but are not limited to) "Treasurer," "Marshal," "Admiral," and "Inquisitor," and they handle such issues as finances, recruitment and training, logistics, and internal enforcement.
ACTIVITIES
The KGC's activities include the harassment and targeting of those considered "Enemies of the People." These people include (but are not limited to) non-white Americans, foreign diplomats, businesses with foreign partners, Catholic churches and schools, trade unions, churches associated with the Christian "Tester" movement, minority politicians, and civil rights activists.
Harassment can take many forms, including physical violence, harassment, arson, kidnapping, robbery, lynching, and assassination.
Notable actions include:
Numerous marches throughout minority communities (1926-Present)
The Knoxville Book Burning (1932)
The Providence Cathedral Shooting (1934)
The attempted kidnapping of Senator Smedley Darlington Butler (1935)
The murder of Joseph P. Kennedy Jr. (1936)
The Battle of New York (Street battle against Italian, Irish, and Jewish communities) (1936)
INFILTRATION BY FEDERAL AGENTS AND INFORMANTS
Despite the organization's compartmentalized nature, Federal Agents of the Bureau of Investigation have been able to infiltrate the organization (See attachment D). Moreover, arrests of lower-level Knights has led to a significant breakthrough in terms of informants, which have allowed us to paint a clearer picture of the organization as a whole and identify several members of the hierarchy.
ADDITIONAL NOTES
Recent communications intercepted by the Chinese Military Intelligence Bureau contain multiple references to the phrase "ITHACA." While we are unaware of the exact meaning of the term, it is likely that this refers to a plot of some significance in the near-future. As a result, intelligence has been forwarded to the Untied States Secret Service (USSS), who have agreed to join the joint task force dedicated to dealing with the KGC.
While it is largely-speculative, continued rhetoric against the Roosevelt Administration are likely linked to the phrase ITHACA and should be treated as such. In response, the USSS has increased security around President Roosevelt and has enhanced security measures to protect him and other important government officials in the Executive, Legislative, and Judicial branches.
Kinda worth noting that he praised Hitler in our timeline. As in, he spoke highly of Hitler sterilizing people (though it is worth noting that America was disturbingly-open to eugenics before WW2).
Now, he didn't in this timeline, so he's probably a better person overall, but his death will still affect the Kennedy family.
Chinese Space Agency Headquarters, Wenchang, Hainan Province, Republic of China, 21 February 1936
Interviews were hardly a new thing for Amelia Earhart. She'd had her fair share when she'd circumnavigated the globe in a jet, and that was before she was the first American in space.
Which, if she was being honest with herself, she still couldn't believe despite having done it multiple times at this point.
But this time, the stakes were higher. Quite literally, in this case, when they were sending to the moon.
"Luna-1" they had called it, if for no other reason than political considerations. After all, they couldn't put it in Chinese or French or American English if meant the other two sides would be offended.
So mythology it was.
The same could be said of the crew.
(Amelia Earhart)
As far as American aviators went, it wasn't as if Washington would pick Charles Lindbergh. The Nazis may not exist, but Washington wasn't about to let the first American in space be an openly racist antisemite. That, coupled with Glenn Curtiss' continued recovery from his appendectomy last year left her as the frontrunner for Luna-1.
France was fairly-different. While they had several notable aviators of their own, that number was much lower when it factored in "Not supporting the OAS coup," and "Not collaborating with the Nazis in the Lost History." The latter had been an unwritten rule, but Earhart was hardly surprised when they picked Alfred Heurtaux, the first French astronaut and a survivor of Buchenwald in the Lost History.
(Alfred Heurtaux)
That just left China, the ones who would be footing the cost of this entire expedition. Now, Earhart wasn't much of an economist, but she had a feeling that "Being the ones who would pay for this" allowed them to select two pilots. And so Tom Gunn and Nadine Hwang had been selected to round off the crew.
(Commander Tom Gunn)
There were those that would argue that Hwang had been selected for her gender and sexual orientation, but Hwang had been the leader of Earhart's first spaceflight, and that was enough for Earhart to put her life in the Chinese woman's hands once again.
(Nadine Hwang)
Quite literally, in this case, as while Gunn was the Commander of this mission, Hwang would be the one piloting the lunar module.
This was a fancy way to say that it was her job to get them there and bring them back.
Edgefield, South Carolina, 15 March 1933
"We are surrounded on all sides," said the Grand Master of the Knights of the Golden Circle. "And we must fight on every front."
"To the West are the Asians," he began. The crowd knew full well he meant the Chinese, but the same could be said of the Japanese, the Korean, or even the Filipino. "These people are the Great Replacers," who use their wealth to corrupt our moral values and replace us as people with themselves and their ilk."
"There is the Negro and the Hispanic in the South," the Grandmaster spat, "Those who, if given an inch, would like nothing more than to seek revenge against the good white people like yourselves and I. Whether it be through violence or out-breeding us to extinction, the threat is all the same!"
"The socialists to the North are hardly better, what with their pernicious desire to send our society into turmoil and upheaval. They may say they are for the common man, but that is the excuse they use to burn down society and rebuild it in their own degenerate image!"
"And last but not least are the Papists in the East! Italian, Portuguese, Irish, French, it doesn't matter when they want nothing more than for Washington to take orders from the Pope in Rome!"
That, of all things, had gotten the most boos and jeers. While there were many who recoiled in disgust at the mention of race-mixing, socialism, and the "Great Replacers," as the Grand Master had so frequently called them, anti-Catholicism was an old habit that would die hard.
"But these," he shouted, once the crowd had finished booing, "These menaces pale in comparison to the Fifth Column that has grown in our own communities! Yes, I am talking about our own people, our brothers and sisters, who aid and abet these people in the destruction of the human race! Be they Testers, Unionists, Employers of non-whites, or those fools in the Tester churches, they are unknowingly contributing to the destruction and replacement of true, good Americans like you and I!"
"If we are to save our people," he crescendoed, "Then we must make our wayward brothers and sisters see the error of their ways. Our communities must be made to see the light of our cause and join us in our crusade against the surrounding darkness."
"So fight," he roared, "Fight, my brothers! Fight against the traitors and their masters who would do us harm! Fight for America! Fight for your communities!"
Anchorage, Alaska, United States of America, 20 May 1936
Michael Chen hated snow. It was wet, cold, and it got everywhere.
But this was part of his job as a member of the Board of Directors of SinoRail. Well, not exactly, but he'd always been more of a hands-on sort of guy, and they needed to send somebody over to Alaska to evaluate the American side of the Bering Sea Tunnel.
Plus, it's not like there's anyone else on the board who knows engineering, and this beats sitting in a board room all day.
Even if I'm freezing my balls off.
At least there isn't a Russian terrorist group around here.
"So," he said to the foreman, "Everything seems to be going along pretty well. You have your power source, and the plasma cutter is making good progress. What is your estimated time of arrival for those?"
"Give or take a month," the American foreman figured. "Assuming we meet the Russian team in the middle, of course."
"Well, all the metrics seem to show you're on the right path, so you have that going for you. It's like hitting a bullet with another bullet, but that's why they sent all this gear up here, right?"
"More or less. You worked on the Taiwan Strait Tunnel, right?"
"'Worked' is giving me too much credit," Michael admitted. "I'm basically the go-between for the Board and the workers. Board needs somebody who knows what the workers and engineers are talking about, while the workers and engineers need somebody to speak up for them. It's the best of both worlds and the ultimate job security."
"I'll take your word for it," the American chuckled. "Can I ask you a question?"
"Shoot. Not like I'm going anywhere."
"Your accent. Been meaning to ask about that, ya know? Most Chinese guys I've talked to speak Chinese with, well, a Chinese accent. Then suddenly, Nanjing sends a guy over who sounds like he's from Southern California! No offense of course."
"None taken. Glad to see I still have my accent from when I grew up there."
"Oh? Which part?"
"Irvine. Grew up there with my parents and my buddy Marty until Mom got a job in Taiwan."
"Sounds like it," the foreman figured. "I'm from Anaheim, myself. Or as they used to call it, 'Klan-aheim.'"
"Yeah... they still called it that back in the future. Some things never change, I guess."
"Eh, these days, they call themselves the 'Knights of the Golden Circle.' Same difference for the most part."
"Yeah? So what is the difference?"
"Not much. At least they stopped calling themselves wizards, so they don't sound like weirdo assholes."
Office of l'Humanite, Paris, France, 6 June 1936
"It's remarkable," Elise Brodeur told her uncle, "How often you fit into a pattern."
"Oh?"
"Almost everything you say boils down to, 'Do not act like off-putting freaks when you're trying to spread socialism.'"
"Huh..." Now that he thought about it, she did have a point. "I guess that's what happens when you're trying to convince people. Would you like a hypothetical scenario?"
"Sure," Elise agreed. It wasn't as if she had anything else to proofread right now. "So long as you don't say it hypothetically, solely for the sake of argument."
"Good. Okay, so let's say, hypothetically, solely for the sake of argument-"
"You said it that way on purpose, didn't you?" his niece groaned. Jean could only chuckle. "I hate you sometimes, Uncle."
"Love you too, Elise. But this isn't a hypothetical where I'll stack the deck in my favor so you can't win. It's an article I wrote, years ago when I was a little younger than you."
"What was the article?"
"I think it was something like, 'The Human Case for Socialism.' Or something like that - It's been over two decades. Anyways, I gave the case for socialism on the grounds of prosperity, stability, and practicality, rather than a call for mobs and guillotines. It was a choice, and I made that choice on purpose."
"Because you wanted to give a more-positive argument that would appeal to those you were trying to convince."
"Precisely! Which do you think would do a better job at convincing the average person who is not as socialist that he should become one: The promise of fair contracts and pay, or the promise that we will decapitate their boss?"
"I suppose it would depend on how much they hated their boss, uncle."
"Perhaps," Jean chuckled. "But generally speaking, most people were more concerned about a fair contract, rather than decapitating Charles Louis-Dreyfus."
"I see... Did it work?"
"I'd like to think so," he figured, "I doubt we'd have an entire computer network dedicated to managing our economy if it didn't."
Headquarters of the Federation of Workers' Cooperatives, Kyiv, Kyiv Governorate, Russian Empire, 14 July 1936
Nestor Makhno wasn't one for the cities.
No, he was a man who loved the countryside he had grown up in, and Kyiv was anything but that.
While yes, Makhno understood that said city was absolutely necessary due to having the industries that supplied the libertarian state-within-a-state he'd helped found, he found the place to be... constraining, to say the least.
The fact that he was in the office of the Federation of Workers' Cooperatives didn't particularly help things. Sure he knew that offices like these were directly-responsible for the day-to-day logistics and decision-making, as well as the fact that the organization was a workplace democracy from the bottom to the top, but it was still a corporate office building in all but name.
That, and he didn't like wearing a suit. Offices and boardrooms he could understand, as they were necessary to keep things running. But suits were "a bit much," as the Uptimers would say. Especially when "Business Casual" was the most people here were wearing.
"...In conclusion," the democratically-elected executive (for lack of a better term) continued, "Productivity has increased an additional five percent due to the upgrades in mechanization, and the Mondragon Cooperative in Spain has voted to join our network of cooperatives. I have been informed by our colleagues that several more cooperatives in Lisbon, Barcelona, and Madrid will be holding votes to join in the near future..."
It was times like this that he was happy with the concept of delegation. He wasn't an economist or a logistician by any means, and office politics were a foreign concept to him. But delegation meant that he could be elected to the office of President of the Federation of Workers' Cooperatives and not have to handle all of the day-to-day operations.
Makhno was a hands-on man, and this arrangement allowed him to take a hands-on approach to most things.
Unfortunately for him, this was not one of those things, and there were a few more hours left in the meeting.
University of Texas at Austin, Austin, Texas, United States of America, 4 December 1936
(University of Texas at Austin)
With Roosevelt and Wallace re-elected last month, the National Youth Administration's Winter Convention would be the last event of the year. And given last month's success, it was no surprise that Secretary of State John Nance Garner was here to listen to Lyndon Johnson's speech.
All the more reason not to screw this speech up, then. God knows I've come too far to fuck it up now.
And if things went right, he wouldn't.
Sure, the speech would probably piss some of the far-right off, but if Johnson knew anything about his last few years in Congress, it was that Americans have been in a patriotic mood for the last two decades.
There was still prejudice, of course, but Johnson had become a master of saying what he wanted to say, in a way that other people who wanted to hear it.
Hell, with enough practice and preparation, he'd been able to convince people that they'd thought of whatever he'd been saying.
"You are the future of our nation," Lyndon Johnson said to the crowd of young Americans. "A future where all Americans can live up to their full potential, just as so many of you hard-working folks have shown over the last year."
Now, this was all retail politics for the people who would, God-willing, be his ticket to the national stage, but Johnson meant every word of it. He could
"And I mean it when I say all Americans. Not just Northerners or Southerners, Whites or Blacks, Catholics or Protestants. All Americans, for that is what we all are."
"This is a nation that history itself has shown to have so much potential. The greatest minds and the greatest goods can come out of our nation, so long as all of us roll up our sleeves and rise to the occasion."
"This potential is a testament to who we are as Americans. Because no matter your color, your race, or your religion, the fact that we are willing to roll up our sleeves and put in the work is what makes us Americans."
"There is a saying from the Lost History: 'You can go to Japan and live, but you cannot become Japanese. You can go to France to live and not become a Frenchman. You can go to live in Germany or the Ottoman Empire, but you cannot become a German or an Ottoman. But anybody can come to America to live and become an American.'"
"You all are proof of that. I have met so many of you over this last year as Deputy Director of the NYA. Some of your families have been here for centuries, while others less than a decade. Yet the fact remains that all of you are here, united by that exceptionally-American spirit of hard work for the better life that brought so many of us to this country."
"And as your fellow American, and the Deputy Director of the National Youth Administration, it is my honor to open the 1936 National Youth Administration Convention-"
And then it hit him.
He didn't know what it was, but he heard it a second later.
And again.
And again.
And again.
"Down!" one of the Secret Service shouted, before pulling him to safety. Johnson could barely make out the trail of blood coming from the floor.
My blood?
It wasn't as if he could focus, though. Not with the cacophony of gunfire and rig
He perished that thought, though, when the sight of Secretary Garner's lifeless body lay behind the podium, with a blood-colored stain right around his chest.
"Sniper spotted at the clock tower," a voice said over the Secret Service's radio, "Requesting permission to engage."
"Granted. Plant the bastard."
A second later, an audible bang rang out.
"Target neutralized," a voice said over the radio, but Johnson couldn't hear the rest of it.
Everything was just too cold and dark for him to care.
The White House, Washington, District of Columbia, 5 December 1936
"Good evening, and welcome to the NBC nightly news," said the anchorman. "I am Ronald Reagan. Tonight, our top story is the Austin Massacre."
"We are sad to report that the death toll has climbed to twenty-seven individuals today, in what is the largest mass-shooting in American history."
"The Austin Police Department and the Texas Rangers have reported the capture of suspect William Dudley Pelley. Mr. Pelley is charged with the murder of Attorney General John Nance Garner and twenty-six other individuals, as well as the attempted murder of National Youth Administration Deputy Director Lyndon Baines Johnson and one hundred other individuals during the Deputy Director's speech at the University of Texas at Austin."
"Deputy Director Johnson has been flown to the Houston Methodist Hospital, where he is in stable condition."
"Federal and State authorities have opened an investigation into the shooting. If you have any information, please call the following number for the Federal Bureau of Investigation-"
The TV shut off, and President Roosevelt turned around to see Eleanor with the remote.
"I was watching that."
"You've been watching that for the last three hours. You will be addressing the nation this evening."
"Of course. It's a lot to take in, Eleanor. Jack is dead."
"And he will be missed," his wife told him, both softly and sternly. "But the nation needs to hear from its President. Now, more than ever."
Headquarters of the Bureau of Investigation, Department of Justice, Washington, District of Columbia, 1 January 1937
(Portrait of Director Eliot Ness, Director of the Bureau of Investigation)
Director Eliot Ness was not a happy man.
He'd made a name for himself in the early 1920s, back when the Bureau was going after every single Klansman they could get their hands on. It was hardly a surprise when one of their number had tried (and failed) to kill President Roosevelt in the previous decade.
"The Incorruptibles," as he and his men were called. The Klan had tried everything in the book to get to them, from bribes to blackmail to outright threatening their families, but he and his fellow agents held their ground as the Klan was dismantled, piece-by-piece.
These new men, these "Knights of the Golden Circle," were a different breed, though. Gone were the open-air meetings, replaced with compartmentalized cells meeting in back rooms and a system of vouching that'd made them much harder to infiltrate.
That said… they didn't have the same level of awareness when it came to technology. Far from the compartmentalization of their various cells in the "real world," various members recruited and talked openly on seemingly-private social media platforms.
Social media platforms that were owned by the Chinese, who had no equivalent of the Privacy Amendment, Not that it would have even qualified in this case, as the perps themselves had triggered the threat detection algorithm on the platform.
This in turn qualified as "Probable Cause" as per Doe v. United States, in which the Brandeis Court ruled that the former's Right to Privacy had not been violated by the Federal Government, as his social media posts and private messages calling for Senator Smedley Butler's assassination were in fact Probable Cause.
Given that precedent, the KGC's repeated tripping of the platforms' threat algorithms served as the Probable Cause that allowed him and his men to go after the Knights, once the intel had been forwarded from Nanjing.
It had started with low-level recruits. "Squires," as they were called. They were the key to identifying the rest of the organization from the ground up.
It wasn't much at first, but he and his men could work with that.
...ok I know that this chapter is more serious.....
But can we talk about the fact that Ronald Reagan is the anchorman for fucking NBC News.....I love that!
Sidenote the entire 'Golden Circle' thing is giving me the urge to go and fucking kick the shit out of the Old Democratic party because "The Knights of the Golden Circle" is the original Name of the KKK and the fact they came back infuriates me.
Now that does not mean I wouldn't say I don't like this, I wish they die a horrible Agonizing Death.
...ok I know that this chapter is more serious.....
But can we talk about the fact that Ronald Reagan is the anchorman for fucking NBC News.....I love that!
Sidenote the entire 'Golden Circle' thing is giving me the urge to go and fucking kick the shit out of the Old Democratic party because "The Knights of the Golden Circle" is the original Name of the KKK and the fact they came back infuriates me.
Now that does not mean I wouldn't say I don't like this, I wish they die a horrible Agonizing Death.
I'll be honest, I took some inspiration from Reds! when I did that, but I do like the idea of people having different jobs in different timelines.
Case In Point: NBC Nightly News host Ronald Reagan, Amelia Earhart as an astronaut, or the JFK's dad owning the Boston Red Sox.
As for the KGC, they're a bit of a holdover from the aborted alternate-dimension arc, but repurposed for this dimension. Basically, they're every bit as ideologically shitty as they Klan was OTL, and they're kinda spread out across America and more-violent.
Well, less so in Latin America, what with all the Catholics, but they have some traction among the whiter, Protestant populations like the Confederados in Brazil.
We have to remember that things like white supremacy movements can take form in different countries, even if it's not necessarily ideologically-consistent.
Seriously, alternate occupations and alternate systems are fun to think out. Particularly the latter.
Now, I'm not an anarchist, but I like writing those parts to see how it could work. Short answer is logistics, supply chains, and pragmatism.
Meanwhile, writing about a viable democratic socialist society lets me think about how that'd work. Short answer is that the people doing the talking need to make sure they don't sound like weirdos, jerks, or insane people.
That might not seem like much, but I've seen Twitter. Apparently, this is really hard to accomplish.
When it comes to jobs, I try to find something relatively-similar to what they did in our timeline. So, for example, Reagan is a good public speaker, so he's a news anchor.
Earhart is an astronaut because she's already an aviator. Meanwhile, Jim Thorpe (who played in the MLB and NFL in our timeline) is "just" a baseball player.
Santa Monica, California, United States of America, 11 January 1937
Michael had been here so many times, and it felt so familiar... and so foreign.
The Georgian Hotel was here, and so was the Hotel Casa del Mar. Heck, even the Santa Monica pier was here, too.
And it's still crowded with tourists, a roller coaster, ferris wheel, overpriced food, and even more-overpriced souvenirs.
But at the same time, it just felt... different. Like he had walked into LA Noire, but it LA Noire had smartphones, cyclists, modern fashion, cyclists, and better public transit.
And bikes. Can't forget bikes when friggin' everyone is riding bikes and walking.
Not like Lin and Morgan can drive, anyways.
And there's no fucking way I'm driving in Los Angeles traffic again.
"So," he asked his son Lin, "How did you like Loyola Mary- Well, I guess it's just 'Loyola University' right now?"
"It's on top of a hill in Los Angeles and near the beach, Baba. What's not to like?"
"Fair enough," the elder Chen agreed. "I remember getting recruited here, back in my time. Not for athletics, of course, but M.E. So, how does it compare to Stanford?"
"It's warmer, just as nice, and I'm also getting an athletic scholarship here. Not to mention that I'm a US citizen because of you." At that moment, he glanced towards his sister. "There's just one problem, though."
"Yeah..." Michael agreed, looking at Morgan. "Loyola's boys only, and Stanford... isn't."
"Their baseball team's also better, Baba. Hey."
"What's up?"
"Can I be honest with you for a second?"
"'Course."
"If I go out here, I'll be... what, thousands of kilometers away from you, Mama, and Morgan. I'm not sure if I can handle that."
"I get that," Michael said in all sincerity. "Seriously, I get that. It'd be a whole new place with nobody there to support you in person. Kinda why I went to NTU with your uncle, instead of LMU, USC, or Santa Clara."
"Really?"
"Yeah. And if I'm being honest, I'd like it if you and Morgan were closer to home. Your mother would, too."
"I know, Baba."
"Just know that your decision is yours, son. Not mine. Not your mother's. And not your sister's. Got it?"
"Got it." Lin said with a smile. "Thanks."
"Also, the schools in China are more prestigious, anyways," Aki chimed in. Morgan was not far behind her. "Sketch is done. Ready to go?"
Michael looked at his son, and Lin nodded.
In-N-Out Burger, Santa Monica, California, United States of America, 11 January 1937
"So," Morgan asked her father while they waited in line, "Is it as good as you remember?"
"Smells as good," Michael figured. "Here's hoping it tastes as good, too."
"I thought In-N-Out was created after the Journey," Lin pointed out. "Isn't it not supposed to come out for another decade?"
"People brought back a lot of Uptimer brands, Lin," his mother answered. "Downtimers think it'll help give them a boost, while Uptimers tend to be more... mixed, to say the least. For example, the owner of this restaurant chain just really liked burgers."
"Really?" His mother nodded. "Must be some really good burgers."
"Your father thinks so. Hopefully as good as-"
Out of nowhere, a couple cut past them in line.
"Excuse me!"
Nothing.
"Excuse me, sir, but we were in line."
"What do you-" the man said, before getting a good look at Aki. "What… Do… You… Want…"
"Why are you speaking slowly? I can speak English."
"Oh, you can?" The man asked, seemingly offended at the notion. "Then you can understand that Americans come first."
"We were in-"
"Ah ah ah. Americans first. Go to the back of the line, lady."
"My children are American citizens," she pointed out, "And even if they weren't, what gives you the right to treat us like this?"
"You don't look like any American," said the man. "Thought we banned you all from entering."
"Yeah, funny thing about that," Michael added, seemingly tagging himself in. "I'm an American citizen. My kids are American citizens by birthright. Hell, the only reason my wife doesn't have American citizenship is because of paperwork."
Now, it was more-complicated than that. Michael's US citizenship had been grandfathered in because the American government recognized Uptimer citizenships.
And because he was an American citizen, that meant Morgan and Lin were also American citizens by default.
"And even if they weren't," he continued, "That doesn't give you a fucking right to treat them like shit."
"Yeah, and what are you going to do about it?" As the man spoke, he hardly noticed the rest of the Chen family moving ahead of him in line. "Hey!"
And then he grabbed Morgan's arm.
The lunchtime crowd went silent, seemingly enraptured by the sight before them of a fully-grown man trying to grab a Chinese teenager.
The teenaged girl lurched back, only to see the larger man dragging her back.
So she did what anyone with basic self-defense skills would do… She moved in and kneed him in the crotch.
It wasn't something she'd see in a Bruce Lee film, but Morgan figured the man would be a bit more pragmatic than in the films.
The police arrived ten minutes later. And for all the man's claims of, "She attacked me," the evidence didn't hold up.
That, the crowd of people who watched the whole confrontation, and the sheer absurdity of a small Chinese woman outright attacking a much larger opponent.
With that out of the way, Morgan could focus on more-important things.
"Huh," she said, before putting her burger down. "This really is as good as you said, Baba."
"Yup," her father happily agreed, "And the best part is that this time, they don't try to convert you to Christianity with their cups."
"What."
"Yeah, that was a thing. They used to put 'John 3:16' on the bottom of their cups."
That's an actual thing, by the way. In-N-Out puts Bible verses on their wrappers and cups because they're owned by Evangelical Christians.
Anyways, I could say this little interlude was a chance to go in-depth about things like anti-Asian racism in this timeline's America, branding, and urban planning, but I think I'm just hungry.
The whole idea of fast food in general would be a fascinating thing to explore in the timeline. The first automats appeared in 1885 shockingly enough, and by the 1940s they were still reasonably popular. If the industry invests directly into automation, the idea of the the 9-5 burger flipper might never emerge. This could lead to a battle between more upscale small scale restaurants and robotic cafes that serve wholly automated menus. You'll also probably have to have the FDA jump ahead a bit to control the level of additives and salt that go into American food. Someone needs to give roosevelt a taste of "modern" American cuisine, grease, fat and all.
The whole idea of fast food in general would be a fascinating thing to explore in the timeline. The first automats appeared in 1885 shockingly enough, and by the 1940s they were still reasonably popular. If the industry invests directly into automation, the idea of the the 9-5 burger flipper might never emerge. This could lead to a battle between more upscale small scale restaurants and robotic cafes that serve wholly automated menus. You'll also probably have to have the FDA jump ahead a bit to control the level of additives and salt that go into American food. Someone needs to give roosevelt a taste of "modern" American cuisine, grease, fat and all.
Post-ISOT American cuisine might end up resembling OTL post-WWII Italian cuisine maybe, with several regional dishes becoming national ones depending on how and when they get popularized; and just as the US had a hand in the development of Italian cuisine (pizza was a strictly Neapolitan affair before Italian-Americans, largely of southern descent, spread it in both countries, and pasta carbonara fused traditional Roman cuisine with American military MREs), uptimers might help take local American dishes further, simply because they like them; sure, the East Asian obsession with KFC is well known, but what about some random Chinese-American dude in New Orleans who's really into the local cuisine, or an ethnic Japanese living in Taiwan somehow finding herself among PNW natives, and finding similarities about the fish-heavy cuisines of both shores of the Pacific?
