“I categorically reject the idea of a devil.” Vostokov said tersely.

“It doesn’t matter if you accept his reality or not. Your insistence that he doesn’t exist makes it easier for him to accomplish his mission. Possibly even to work through you.”

“And what is his mission?”

“To destroy souls.”

“That is all mystical talk. It has no bearing on our present situation.”

“I used to think just like you, and that is how Nachayev poisoned my heart.”

“So how did you break away then?”

“Nachayev died long before I realized the poison he peddled. We murdered the Tzar. Did that make our lives better? We are still here today with the same complaints if not more. Did we get our retribution? No we caused more suffering.”

“So there is no point then? We are doomed to suffer from birth to death and that is just the way it is?” Vostokov challenged.

“No! But to needlessly seek destruction when there are other means is the height of folly.”

“We are the victims. We must claim our rights by force. Everything that they hold dear must be stripped away from them.” Vostokov said passionately.

“And where do you end up?”

“In a better place.”

“No you end up in the same place or worse. If you fail you are dead, in exile, or in prison. If you succeed you merely replace the tzar with someone who uses the same tactics as the tzar and you haven’t really changed anything.”

“No, everything will change. We will be free. The Bolsheviks will see that we the workers own the factories.”

“And anyone who dissents?”

“Will be destroyed.” Vostokov said confidently.

Silence hung in the air for a brief moment as everyone in the room seemed to understand a significant admission had been made.

The old man spoke again saying “Don’t be like Tzar, don’t be like Nachayev, don’t be like the People’s Will. Don’t be a nihilist. Don’t embrace any leader who advocates for terror.

“But the Tzar must fall. What is to be done?” Vostokov said earnestly.

“We march. We may die. The Tzar will show us who he truly is. How we respond will determine what type of country we will become.” The old man said.

“I don’t understand. If the Tzar arrests us, or kills us how do we determine the future of Russia?” Vostokov asked.

“Let the Tzar provide the provocation. Make him the enemy not your nihilistic band of terrorists posing as a political party.”

“You know nothing of the Bolshevik party.”

“I know human nature.”

“Meaning?”

“If the Tzar miscalculates today it will destroy any legitimacy he still holds among all of his people, not just the workers.”

“And if he doesn’t miscalculate?”

“Then you will get your desired reforms.”

“But if he is still in power that is not acceptable.”

“If everyone had their income doubled, an extra day off work, and only an 8 or 9 hour work day, and the Tzar introduced a new parliament would you not be satisfied?”

“No! He deserves no credit and no reforms can justify his seat on his throne!”

“The spirit of Nachayev lives on in you.”

“We will never see eye to eye if you can envision a world where Nicholas II gets to keep his throne.”

“I pray that your future is not a sad one. I will say no more until our march is concluded.”

Vostokov was not content with how the conversation had gone and he was not about to be silent even though he knew he had lost the room. “Now that our philosophical debate has ended it is time to take action.”

“Booo.”

“What do you mean?”

“There are troops on the streets. I suggest we send scouts to map out the best course to take on our march. Perhaps there is a better route to take.”

“I will go with him, and together we will scout out the best route to take.” A man in the crowd said.

Peter and Paul Fortress - Saint Petersburg - January 9, 1905

Dmitri Kiselyov took a deep breath of the frigid air and felt the chill work its way through his lungs. He peered up at the golden spire of the Peter and Paul Fortress and knew that it would be more impressive once the sun came up.

Across the river he could see the Winter Palace. He could make out the shape of soldiers and he assumed they were wearing their green uniforms as they milled about. No doubt these were members of the Preobrazhensky Regiment.

A grimace crossed Kiselyov’s face as he felt the envy billowing in his soul. If he couldn’t fight in the war he could have at least been a member of that regiment. They represented the glory of Russia. Created by Peter the Great himself. Kiselyov smiled just thinking about the history of the Preobrazhensky Regiment. Formed when Peter the great was a youth in the 1680’s the group of boy soldiers had made quite a name for themselves. Peter loved to spend his time engaged in war games at that time.

His residence was in the Preobrazhensky region outside of Moscow and he had a group of young men who war gamed with him. This group grew to consist of about 300 men. They were the Tzars soldiers. The best thing in Kiselyov’s mind was that Peter had started himself out at the lowest rank in the regiment and only as he mastered each skill would he allow himself to be promoted. There was no doubt about it. Peter truly was great.

Now Kiselyov stood admiring the troops that Peter had created. Unfortunately he would not be amongst their ranks while he was in the city. He would be with the Cossacks at the Narva Arch. At least that was another symbol of Russian glory. It had been built to commemorate the victory over Napoleon. For the first time in weeks Kiselyov smiled a genuine smile. Being in the midst of the imperial splendor of St. Petersburg warmed his heart. Russia was his country and being in the capital reminded him that Russia was still great.