A short while after the body of Rosa Luxemburg, skull shattered, brain blown apart, sank to the bottom of the canal, a giant black shape swooped near the Lichtenstein Bridge.
With large wings that made it look like a massive bat or dragon, it flew down into the canal from the clear sky, extracted Luxemburg’s soul, and carried it carefully away from the bottom of the river.
Appearing almost groggy from sleep, she stared up at the person holding her. An elegant-looking man with long black hair pulled neatly behind his head, he stared straight at her with eyes as green as conifers. The Polish Luxemburg knew such features well. Unlike her assassins, this man handled her with care that let her know he was no enemy.
“Who are you?”
“You can simply call me Count,” the man replied. “I’ve been watching you for a long time. But always from a distance.”
“Always?”
“Yes. Even when you were imprisoned.”
“I don’t remember ever meeting you.”
“Every day, a bird would visit you between the iron bars of your window. That was me.”
“Really?” Her eyes grew wide. “You talk like this is some sort of dream.”
“You can think of it that way.”
Still in the Count’s arms, Luxemburg turned to face the water.
When she did, the Count said, “Forget about those remains resting down there. That is just an empty shell.”
“But it’s my body.”
“Who you are is right here in this spirit.”
“Why did you rescue me?”
“You gave your entire life for your ideals. I like people like that.”
She laughed lightly. “I fought for reality, not an ideal. I simply wanted everyone to eat good bread and sleep soundly in warm beds, as equals. Would you set me down? This is kind of embarrassing.”
“If that’s what you wish.”
“Please.”
Still holding Luxemburg, the Count stooped over. Her toes scraped the water. The surface felt hard, like glass. She stepped down and stood on the water without sinking into the canal.
Looking around, she saw a young man leading Liebknecht along the opposite bank. From his awkward gait, it was obvious that he had just turned into a soul. The young man guiding Liebknecht wore a black cloak like the Count’s. A wind crossed the canal and rippled its hem. The young man released Liebknecht’s hand and said, “You’re on your own from here. Someone important is waiting for you over there.”
Liebknecht smiled and replied, “Thank you, Jörg.”
“You’re welcome.”
“If only our party had more people like you. Then I might still be alive.”
“It’s a flattering sentiment, but I’m just a monster.”
The souls of Luxemburg and Liebknecht joined hands in the middle of the canal.
They thanked the Count and Jörg, then looked toward the sky. Rays of sparkling light penetrated the clear, cold sky to coat the land.
“Let’s go.” Liebknecht gazed contentedly up into the light. “Progress was our purpose in life. Spartacus was our passion and our spirit. That is the same as our soul, our core, the will of the proletariat, and action. That will never change.”
“Do you think paradise really exists up there?”
“I don’t know. But the only way to find out is to keep going.”
As the two souls began to pull away from the earth and ascend into the sky, the Count said to Jörg, “I don’t know if they’ll arrive there uninterrupted. I just pray that nothing interferes with their ascension. The masses might try to pull them back down.”
Jörg asked, “What if they can’t make it to heaven?”
“Then they’ll most likely stay somewhere between heaven and earth. Like us.”
“You mean, somewhere that’s neither heaven nor earth.”
“It’s more comfortable than people assume.”
“To think that people who lived their lives with such integrity would end up like this. Humanity really is beyond saving.”
The Count smirked. “The socialism they preached is truly a respectable idea. But the majority of socialists around the world are not the ideal humans those two imagine. Most socialists boast about how they achieved enlightenment through socialism. So anyone who is not enlightened is wrong and incapable of proper thought. See? To people like that, the masses and the workers are still the unenlightened in need of their guidance. It’s such an arrogant fantasy. Do you think the masses would follow such elitism? Enlightened or not, every human has an inherent worth that cannot be infringed upon by anyone else. The justice that the majority of socialists believed in didn’t fail on principle. But they prattled on about peace and equality while disdaining most average people. The burden those two were made to carry for that reality was just too cruel.”
Jörg squinted as he looked skyward. “How many more times will humanity have to repeat its mistakes before it can finally reach true happiness?”
“I don’t know. Maybe never,” the Count bluntly said, then continued, “Poland will start fighting the Soviet Union soon.”
“What?”
“Józef Piłsudski desperately wants Poland to return as a major power someday. He’s going to actively amass a large army to take back Poland’s former territory to the east—meaning Belarus and western Ukraine. The war will certainly affect Ukrainians and Jewish people in the region. The Polish people once had their language and culture stolen from them by Germany and Russia. And now they might do the exact same thing to Ukrainians and Jewish people.”
“What would Lila say about that? Poland may believe that their actions are rightful, but it will start another war.”
“Foolishness or justice, that it not for me to say. I’ve heard that Piłsudski is a great man. All we can do is hope that he listens to his conscience.”