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Nenad Drulović

Director, Drulovic and Durrani Forum on National Security and Public Policy

0 · 656 views · located in Niihama

a character in “The Multiverse”, as played by Ylanne

Groups

Registered citizen of the Terran National Government

Description

Image

Photo credit: Kevin W. Washburn delivering the inaugural William C. Canby Distinguished Scholar in Residence Lecture at O'Connor School of Law on 24 January 2008. Photographer unknown. Taken from Flickr photostream.

Personality

I know of things that could keep you awake at nights,
with your white-knuckled fingers curled around the covers,
your eyes wide and growing wider,
your body shaking, your heart rate racing,
your mind recreating everything in technicolor.

— Ylanne S., from "I Finally Cried"

So begins...

Nenad Drulović's Story

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#, as written by Ylanne
“I don’t understand why you can’t just tell me where Arianne is,” said Nenad Drulović, pacing back and forth in his Georgetown house between a desk and a couch in the living room slash home office space. “We were married for thirty-three years and I’d like to know where she’s being held so I can see her. It’s not too hard t--”

A tunnel of rainbow light formed ex nihilo around Nenad. His lips parted and the phone fell from his mouth, clattering to the living room’s hardwood floor. But he did not hear the sound it made before he suddenly found himself standing in a futuristic looking room with soft, glowing lights and sleek, metal flooring and walls. Nenad’s eyes widened a moment before narrowing, his lips drawing into a thin, severe line as he looked about himself. The old man was dressed in loafers, khakis, and a green turtleneck, had been grading papers before he made the call.

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#, as written by Ylanne
“Madam Admiral,” Nenad said, inclining his head in respect as he turned toward Nagala, “I’d just asked about the whereabouts of my ex-wife, but the Commander refused to tell me where Arianne has been taken. I would like to see her, if I can, or at least know if I can write to her.” Over the last few months, Nenad’s entire family had disintegrated, with Natalija still facing murder charges, Drulović taken into custody without charge by the occupational authority, and everyone but Nenad no longer on Terra. The old man had been stoic as always, staying in Washington with the Forum and the university, his class material retreating more to the theoretical and further from the practical.

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#, as written by Ylanne
“Madam Admiral, with all due respect, Arianne was my wife for thirty-three years, and I still care about her very much. My daughter is facing murder charges, and was transported offworld not too long ago. Please, madam Admiral,” Nenad said, adopting a softer tone in his voice, “I am asking as a father and long-married husband. At the very least, I would like to know where they are. I have nothing against the occupational authority, and I have no political demands. I just want to know where Arianne and Natalija are because I love them.” The intelligence operative turned scholar had always been certain of himself, always confident in his own position. But now, his posture, his pleading tone revealed a different turn.

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#, as written by Ylanne
Nenad exhaled heavily, rubbing his jaw while staring at the floor. After a few moments, he met Nagala’s eyes again. “If I were to travel to Langara, would I be able see either of them?” asked the old man, running his hand through thick, white hair. “Especially because you say that -- that Arianne will be executed. I would like to be able to see her before -- just, before.” He had seen his ex-wife perhaps a week before the announcement of Drulović’s arrest. How long had it been now? It didn’t matter; he could take a leave of absence and let the TA take over the class if he could visit the woman whom he had loved for so many years.

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#, as written by Ylanne
“You wouldn’t happen to know how to, ah, make a request to the God-Emperor?” Nenad asked, finding those words awkward to work his tongue around. He swallowed, sliding his hands into his pants pockets. “It’s -- it’s very important to me, if I can see my family.” He was the only one left on Terra, and painfully aware of it. The old man stood stiffly in front of Nagala’s desk, looking entirely out of place in the futuristic, metallic space with his stereotypically professorial clothes and gold-rimmed glasses perched on the edge of his nose.

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#, as written by Ylanne
Nenad paused at that. Raphael McGregor was aboard this ship at this moment? His eyebrows furrowed closely together and he inclined his head again. “I would be grateful, madam Admiral,” replied the old man, his voice having grown considerably softer. It was a strange position where he -- a man who had for decades avoided anything to do with politics or governance -- now found himself trapped at a nexus in the conflict between the Aschen occupational government and the strains of Terran resistance, embodied in Arianne Drulović’s designation as an enemy of the state, a political prisoner.

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#, as written by Ylanne
Reposts: Nagala nodded. "Luckily he's aboard this ship, should I summon him to come in here and speak with you?" Nagala asked, before she checked and double checked the passenger manifest.

Nenad paused at that. Raphael McGregor was aboard this ship at this moment? His eyebrows furrowed closely together and he inclined his head again. “I would be grateful, madam Admiral,” replied the old man, his voice having grown considerably softer. It was a strange position where he -- a man who had for decades avoided anything to do with politics or governance -- now found himself trapped at a nexus in the conflict between the Aschen occupational government and the strains of Terran resistance, embodied in Arianne Drulović’s designation as an enemy of the state, a political prisoner.

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#, as written by Ylanne
Nenad offered a small half-smile at that. “The best I can do is try, madam Admiral,” he said, inclining his head as he removed his hands from his pocket and wiped his forehead with his sleeve, crinkling his eyes and pressing his lips together tightly. He stood to the side of Nagala’s quarters, waiting for the arrival of the Aschen god-emperor.

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#, as written by Ylanne
Nenad knelt at Raphael’s entrance, looking up at the man who now towered over him even more than when the old man had been standing. “Sir, I have been unable to see my former wife, Arianne Drulović, for some time now, and I am hoping that by your favor, I might have the chance to see her before, ah, the government takes her life. We were married for thirty-three years, sir, and I still care for her very much. If it pleases you, sir, I am hoping that I may visit with her.”

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#, as written by Ylanne
Nenad rose to his feet again, inclining his head as a sign of respect or deference. “The reward is not for Arianne, sir, but a consolation for me. I have not been able to see her since she was arrested, and I would be deeply grateful if I might see her once more. Perhaps I can also convince her, sir, to do what you’ve asked of her,” he said. “I have known for her over fifty years, and might be able to do that to your benefit, if I am allowed to see Arianne.”

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#, as written by Ylanne
For the second time that day, Nenad found himself suddenly hurtling through a tunnel of rainbow light before emerging, somewhat unsteadily, onto the Watchtower’s observation deck. He released Raphael’s hand and out of habit, adjusted his glasses, blinking as he peered about the futuristic-looking bridge, glancing momentarily toward the blue and green orb before seeing Drulović. The older woman did not appear visibly shaken, but Nenad thought she had the look of confusion about her. Nenad crossed the deck, his loafers soundless over the polished floor as he approached Drulović, who rose from a seated position, and took her in a prolonged silent embrace.

They stood like that for several long moments before Drulović finally eased herself away from Nenad. “I’ve missed you, Nadi,” said the woman, speaking softly. “It’s been, I think, too long, though I’m sure you know that already.” She offered him a small smile. “Have you seen our daughters? Tell me, are they well?” She tilted her chin back to look at her former husband, grasping one of his hands in both of hers.

“Jelisa and Božidar have left Terra, Ari,” said Nenad after a pause. “I haven’t been able to see Natalija.”

“Only you and I then, hm?” Drulović raised an eyebrow.

“For now,” Nenad replied, inclining his head. “The neighborhood is very quiet without the family. They told me that they plan to execute you.”

“I imagine so,” said Drulović, though she did not seem concerned or afraid. “I’m glad you came, Nadi. Really, I am. And here I thought I might not see you again.”

“What have they asked from you?” Nenad asked.

Drulović shrugged. “It’s always the same, you know. They want information. Doesn’t everybody these days? they want to know about the Bureau’s operations.” She scoffed. “The Bureau doesn’t exist anymore, Nadi. I imagine I’m something of a relic.”

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#, as written by Ylanne
“Why not give them the information they want? I’m sure they want to eradicate Hataf as much as you did, Ari,” said Nenad, tiredness and frustration creeping into his tone. “It’s better than holding on to some misguided idea of pride.”

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#, as written by Ylanne
“Pride has nothing to do with it, Nadi,” Drulović said to the old man. “I’m afraid I haven’t any of that left to me.” She rubbed the side of her face, her expression conspicuously devoid of emotion. As Raphael spoke, her gaze flickered to the younger, arrogant Aschen, her lips drawing into a severe line. “You wouldn’t destroy Terra, Mr. McGregor,” she said in a scathing tone, “not after the effort you put into conquering it. Besides, all this for me? I doubt you care that much.” But she leaned against Nenad, squeezing his hand, turning her face toward the old man.

Nenad’s face paled. He looked down at Drulović, his brows furrowing closely together. “Ari, please. Just do what he says. What’s the harm in giving them information about Hataf? What’s the harm? Let’s be practical, Ari. Let’s be realistic about this.” His tone adopted an urgent quality as he spoke to Drulović. “Please. Can’t you be reasonable, just this once? The universe doesn’t revolve around your high and mighty ideas. Your plans are over. The Aschen won. Can’t we get on with our lives, whatever time we have left?”

“He won’t release me, Nadi,” Drulović replied in a softer tone. “You’re a fool if you believe it. In any case, what life would we have together? We’ve hardly lived these last years, much less together. For god’s sake, Nadi, leave the wool. You’re asking for the impossible. I know what I’ve decided to do, Nadi, and I don’t need you to dictate it to me. I don’t need you to parrot him.”

“Are you thinking of our children, Ari? What if they want to see you again? Or the people at UT Dallas? Do you think they don’t care what happens?” Nenad shook his head. “You have a life and a family to consider. Or is that it, Ari, that you want to die? Do you want to let them kill you? Would it clear your conscience? I love you, Ari. Don’t do this.” He stared at her, his gaze boring into her. She met his eyes.

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#, as written by Ylanne
“If you wanted to know about Hataf, why would you be willing to destroy Terra? If you do that, Mr. McGregor,” said Drulović, “there’s no need to know anything about Hataf. They’d die, all of them.” She waved dismissively, her frown deepening. “And the Bureau doesn’t exist anymore, Mr. McGregor. There is no Bureau, only me.”

“The Resistance?” Nenad massaged his forehead with his free hand. “Ari, do you even know anything about the people who left Terra?” His voice suggested incredulity as he watched Drulović.

“I’m afraid I’ve lost contact with all of them,” Drulović replied, “though I don’t expect to be believed.” She glanced toward the massive window, watching the planet turn toward them. “I’m afraid, Mr. McGregor,” continued Drulović, looking toward Raphael now, “that you don’t understand that plans are already in motion. They have been for a very long time. Those wheels will keep turning quite easily without either you or I.”

“Ari. For the love of God. For the love of the saints.” Nadi grabbed Drulović by both arms, gripping tightly. “He’s going to do it. Don’t do this to me. Don’t do this to your family.”

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#, as written by Ylanne
“One. I’ll tell you of Mr. Mufarrij,” said Drulović, speaking of one of Hataf’s senior councillors. “He lives now in Florence, though I imagine he doesn’t go by that name. He spent some time in a hospital a few months ago, though last I heard, he was doing well.” Her gaze slid to Nenad, pulling him closer to her. “That’s all, Mr. McGregor. I’m afraid I simply don’t know much now about the whereabouts of the rest of Hataf’s leadership. They’ve scattered in recent months, you know. But Hataf will be eradicated, Mr. McGregor. You simply don’t understand all of the parts of the plan for its destruction.”

“There is no plan anymore, Ari,” Nenad said, his tone growing softer. “There aren’t any plans. Don’t make this choice again. Don’t do this to me again.”

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#, as written by Ylanne
“And you think I could tell you all of that in that short amount of time, Mr. McGregor? You make an impossible situation.” Drulović nodded toward the weaponry of the Watchtower, partially visible through the window. “Find Mr. Mufarrij and kill him, and I might give you more of what you ask. You have no patience for the already proven methods, Mr. McGregor, and I have little for those who would interfere with carefully designed plans.”

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“Good God, Ari,” Nenad breathed. “Tell him what he wants to know.” He watched Drulović with narrowed eyes, staring at her face, cursing her impassivity, her flippant tone. “That’s all I ever wanted, was for us to have a future. And you’re destroying that chance again.”

“You fancy yourself a god?” Drulović laughed at that. “That’s quite sad, Mr. McGregor, quite sad. I’m done listening to your vile ramblings. Go ahead, choose to ignore me; it will only be to your detriment. I understand better what these people are capable of doing than you could possibly imagine, and if you choose to reject what I have already planned, I fear you will wish you had listened.”

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#, as written by Ylanne
“I think you will find yourself very surprised about that,” Drulović said softly to McGregor. “I’ve never trusted you or your ilk, you know. You can witness very well for yourself why that might be.” She turned toward Nenad and took his hands again, squeezing. “I’ve missed you, Nadi. But don’t be sad when I go. You knew it would happen one day. Be happy for me. If I can’t see our daughters, tell them that I love them very much for me.”

Nenad winced, growing visibly uncomfortable at her touch and her words. “I’m sure they know that,” he said, even if she had a terrible way of showing it. “You shouldn’t give up like this, Ari. I don’t understand what’s happened to you. I don’t know why you’re doing this.”

The setting changes from Terra to Gambit's Bar

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Nenad Drulović hadn't been to Wing City in a while, but with the end of the spring term and a sabbatical for the summer term, there was little for him to do between semesters other than the Forum's annual conference, and he wasn't too closely involved with the planning committee this year. Nenad had left that to his compatriots from the Forum, the types of academics who found themselves enthralled at the idea of obscenely long academic conferences complete with plenary sessions and dozens of concurrent sessions over periods of several days, in which people who likely had never gone outdoors competed to give dryer talks with more jargon than one another all the while nodding, smiling, and pretending to understand those outside their own specific fields. Nenad had never taken much liking to their type. When it came to pretentious academics, he had much the same mind as his ex-wife did toward lawyers.

The old man was dressed in navy blue khakis and a striped button-down shirt, his glasses perched toward the end of his nose. Short, a bit on the thin side, with thick white hair, Nenad Drulović did not appear particularly imposing or commanding. The former spy turned professor preferred to keep it that way. He moved toward the counter, reaching for a worn leather wallet, from which he removed a few bills and slid them onto the bar. "Just a glass of beer, please," he said to the bartender, glancing for a moment at the TV mounted in the corner of the bar. It was another soap complete with a fawning, voluptuous blonde and a muscle-bound, dreamy-eyed young man somewhere no the verge of adulthood. Nenad almost snorted in disgust as he reached for the briefcase, the dark brown leather bag, that he'd carried into the bar with him.

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#, as written by Ylanne
When the bartender returned with his cold beer, Nenad wrapped his fingers around the glass, rubbing against it until a good portion of the visible condensation had disappeared. He glanced toward Dyew for a moment before his eyes caught sight of the tall blonde woman, whom he thought looked vaguely familiar. His lips stretched into a small frown, as he couldn't quite place her. Before he could speak to introduce himself, Nenad turned at the sound of his name, catching sight of the young woman whom he thought had been watching him. He took a sip of his beer, swallowing and setting the glass back onto the counter before catching her eyes. In the dim light of the bar, the fact that one of his fingers was missing would be hard to see.

"I don't normally respond to strangers," said Nenad, though his response confirmed his identity. "For your own sake, I sincerely hope you're a prospective Georgetown student, maybe looking at one of the graduate programs. Something tells me you're not, though." He remained standing by the bar, distinctively shorter than Kristen, though his expression betrayed very little.