Colonel Ugar, perhaps alone amongst his peers in the military, was extremely pleased with how his job was going. He was given the task of restructuring logistics for the entire military in the post-war period but, unlike his colleagues with equally daunting tasks, he actually had a plan. To be honest, however, introducing efficiencies made his tasks easier as he went on because the whole goal of logistics was efficiency.
He didn't do it alone, however. The guidelines had been set by Colonel Degurechaff years ago (while still a student!) and he remained in contact with her when he was in need of inspiration. Even when she came asking for a favor, it was usually a thinly veiled attempt to help him or help the service she had served so well though so briefly.
When he heard she was coming for a visit, he made sure to have a nice coffee set up and some chocolate pastries. These days, she could afford such luxuries on her own but he liked the reminder of the journey they had made together from school and through the war.
"Sir, von Degurechaff has arrived."
"See her in, see her in!" Having known each other for so long, he wished to dispense with formalities but with so many people around he had to maintain a certain dignity... at least until the doors were closed.
"Tanya, I'm so glad to see you are well!"
"I appreciate that, Max. How are your wife and kids? Are they still enjoying their presents?" It took several months of his insistence but they were on a first-name basis now. His argument was that, as a civilian, using her rank would be inappropriate and her using his would be too distant.
He sat down with her and rolled his eyes. "The neighborhood kids are always over these days and their parents have pestered me endlessly about when they can buy their own copies." His voice raised a bit on the last word.
Tanya laughed. "Yes, yes. We'll be releasing ten games over the next few weeks and a 'big set' closer to Christmas that will combine all ten into one set at a savings. Your kids got an advanced copy and we'll get you a better one soon."
"How did you think about using real money in the game?"
She shrugged. "It was cheaper than printing our own. I understand that there will be a remonetization soon so we bought absolutely enormous quantities of worthless bills both from our customers and the treasury. It nets them a little more than they would get otherwise and it lets us sell a little more."
She's taking a loss on worthless money to help out the people who are hardest hit. How noble! And since she had so many papiermarks on hand, she turned them into a game to get rid of them. "What margins are you giving?"
"I think we are giving twice the inflation-adjusted value. Honestly, I leave that to the shop managers but it's always more than the going value. The first day we did it, our stores were packed with people trying to get rid of their markts as fast as they could." It's a great way to draw in new customers! The money isn't worth much so they can't empty our stores with worthless bills and they come back again after they find out how good our prices are.
Ah! So her markt managers know who are hardest hit so they can cut them a break on trade. "I'm glad things are going so well. As pleasant as this all is, I don't imagine you came here to talk about children's games."
She shipped her coffee appreciatively and put the cup down delicately. "Naturally. I understand that the government is in possession of many acres of ruined land near the Rhine. We want to buy it all and rehabilitate it so that it is productive again."
Ugar hadn't expected this of all his thoughts. "That... is an interesting idea. Of course, you know best the state of the land now. Land torn apart by trenches and mortar fire. Little grows there beyond weeds and grass now and there's literally thousands if not millions of tons of metal on and under the ground... a lot of it still dangerous."
"If it was perfect, people would be living there even now, no?" She nibbled appreciatively on the pastry and took another sip of her coffee. "No, we intend to pick up the detritus of war and try to make it functional again. Perhaps even as beautiful as before."
"That's an amazing offer!" He gave a little frown. "Although, to be honest, I'm not sure how the Secretary of Lands will take it. He's an appointee of the political office and not thereby no fan of yours."
"That's why this is a two-pronged offer. We can either buy the land outright or sell our services to clean up the mess. We've already moved to buy the land still in private hands either for funds or in trade so will have plenty to do. But our services hardly come cheap! We have to pay many people, including mages, and the resources required are enormous." She grinned with a hint of the Devil leaking through. "We're also doing the same on the Republic side through a colleague of mine. Just remind him how much his land will be worth in its current state when the rest of the area is green and blooming again."
"That's a shockingly hard argument to fight against, my friend."
"And the longer they take, the MORE expensive our services become. This is not the only battlefield, nor even the worst in the world. I expect the demand for our Reclamation Corp will skyrocket in short order. It would be sad if the Rhine thrives while the Germanian lands languish."
Ugar sucked in his breath. This, more than any logic, would sway them the best. What a cunning ploy! The Empire's pride had been badly damaged and this would be another slap. "I'll lay out your offer for them. If they agree to the sale, can I say you'll do the lands right on the border of the Republic first? That will poke their pride enough I think to get them in motion."
"They live and die on pride, I think you have the right idea. There IS one thing I'd need from you other than your support in the deal."
"Oh? I can't imagine what."
"I want you to prioritize the Berun to Parisee rail line for repair and expansion."
"What? That would be a much harder sell. The political office and chancellor hate the Republic and I doubt they'd see the value in it."
"Do you really have to ask them? You're constantly ahead of schedule... sometimes shockingly so. If I don't miss my guess, you've been understating your accomplishments lest they ask you for the truly impossible."
He laughed uncomfortably at first but more freely after a few seconds. "I learned the hard lesson the military was subjected to! Never be TOO amazing where the wrong people may find out. This has to be more than just making the reclamation more convenient."
"You understand well. You've read Thomas Paine's maxim that republics won't make war on each other? He was right in theory but I'd modify it. Republics and democratic republics with strong ties of trade do not attack each other." The room they were in had a map of Europa (naturally) since Ugar was in charge of the Rail Department. "One of the great weaknesses of the Empire was its central location, surrounded by enemies. Now I want you to rethink this map where we are surround by friends. What do you see then?"
Ugar looked at that map every day as part of his job. He thought about it again with what she had just said. Comprehension dawned on his face. "Gott.... how did I not see this before?"
"You understand then? Instead of being at war with Europa, or even the hegemon, we can become the financial and economic center."
"Our rail system, optimized for war, could be the greatest key in managing logistics for the entire continent! They would use them even if they didn't like us because it's cheaper than running ships everywhere." His eyes scanned the map. "Ildoa, Dacia, Magna Rumeli and Waldstatte are easy sells. Once our farms are producing again, even Entente would rather have their food and products more cheaply even if it's from the hated Empire." With more excitement, he pointed out. "As long as the Republic agrees, that gives us Ispagna as well. The only holdout might be the Commonwealth but most of the continent is annoyed and wary about their increasing power."
"Their navy and shipping are strong but even they might enjoy a bargain. And keep in mind that they aren't stupid, either. If a Francois/Germanian trade tie bypasses them, it would make them more and more irrelevant. And that brings us to the final piece."
"What, more? Please, please continue!"
She laid out her plans in detail but stopped him from taking notes. "I can't have any of this leak out just yet. The Political Office would sell the seed corn with smiles on their faces thinking they had done something clever. No, give this a few years and we'll usher in a new guard that isn't so astoundingly stupid. Just lay the rail now and get ready for the future."
"Tanya, you never think of just the next step, do you?"
She said dryly, "People who think only one step ahead tend to stumble a lot... as we've seen."
* * *
Astrid was reading a telegraph from her home country. The words, though brief, conveyed the sender's... unhappiness.
She sent a brief message that basically said, "Four attempts made." She left without getting a reply.
Nova waited out side the telegraph office, leaning against a wall with one leg propped up and showing a daring amount of leg. "Did you annoy those geezers?"
"Probably. But the geas holds firm and it accepts our 'attempts' so they don't have any option but to accept it." She took a deep breath. "Mmmm... the air smells so clean! I'm not sure what our Little Silver did back then but it rebalanced things nicely."
"I take your word on it. The unwashed masses never smelled so unwashed as right now." Though she sounded harsh, she looked at the homeless and destitute with pity. Cripples, many missing more than one limb and sporting the remnants of their army garb, could be found on every corner. Along with them came beggars of all ages from the elderly to children barely old enough to walk.
"Despite our, to put it at its kindest, lack of successes, they want us to continue to pursue Degurechaff." She shook her head with a slight frown. "They are using up their control over us for no good gain. Even if we succeed, it nets them nothing but bloody satisfaction."
"That's enough for some people, I guess." She pushed herself off the wall, letting her skirt fall back into place.
"No, even for them, this is a road too far. The reason why the Council of Ten exists is to counterbalance the whims of any one person. It takes a true majority of six to go forward with any decision, even if some abstain. There's something deeper at work here; beyond pride, beyond fear, even beyond victory for the Alliance."
"Their loss is our gain. We can burn through the rest of our promises and regain our freedom all the faster because of it."
"Maybe so."
Nova looked at the hungry crowds as they got into a cab. "What does your sight say about them? Is there anything to be done?"
"I rarely see such stark and contradictory outcomes. Either happiness, prosperity and peace, or destruction on a scale never before witnessed on the planet."
"Is she the cause... still?"
"Yes, I'm afraid. As it was then, so it is now, and so it shall be."
Astra let out a curse she heard in Rumeli that summed up her feelings neatly.
* * *
As she had many loose ends to tie up before her big trip, Tanya next visited a comfortable house with a largish yard in West Berun. It was like a little island of peace in the busy city... at least in the past. These days, it was an oasis of life in the dreary, defeated capital.
Composer Walter Braunfels sometimes would sit in the room he mostly composed in, his third-floor studio, where he could see the earth and the sky and, if he chose, the people outside his walls. Today, as he was entertaining a guest, he met her in the gardens. "Ah, President Degurechaff! I'm glad you came by. The volume of work you've sent to me is quite daunting. I hope you don't mind that I've enlisted my former and current students to assist. You can rest assured that I thoroughly critique their work before approving it."
"Why would I mind? If a master such as yourself is satisfied, I most certainly am. Besides, music is not something that is owned, it is something that is shared. Perhaps their understanding may even exceed mine."
He laughed loudly! "How droll! My students understanding a master work better than the master, herself?"
"Stranger things have happened. I have a special request today, however. One that I think you will enjoy as it's more in line with your usual work."
"Oh? Please elaborate."
"I'm writing an orchestral piece that I intend to make my theme song when I'm ambassador. I wanted something unique to me rather than just the Anthem of our republic. Of course that will play as well at official events but life is boring without variety, yes?"
"Intriguing. What mood are you trying to set?"
"Something powerful that emphasizes might and control. They know my softer side through my other music but as Ambassador I need to receive, no, demand respect." She shrugged. "Those of the Unified States do not know my reputation or perhaps discount it. They will only see a not-yet-adult girl. I need to immediately set the right tone."
He nodded slowly, "You have a basis?"
"Yes. It's set in the key of G-minor and starts with the strings." She half-hummed, half-sung the melody, occasionally indicating which instruments would play each part.
Braunfels listened carefully, enraptured. "Again, please, while I score it!" He called out to his maid, "Adelie! Gather my students in the house here! We're making a masterpiece!" Over the next three days, he endlessly drilled a rented orchestra so that they could make a fitting rendition of the piece on the finest recording equipment.
* * *
Cal sat in a room with other military men, listening carefully to a lecture. Or, more to the point, marveling at what they were hearing.
Bill, a sharp-eyed Pfc from a base on the west coast asked incredulously. "So you're saying we're here to protect the embassy? Not the other way around?"
The instructor, a middle-aged civil servant nodded with a wry smile. He had heard this question before. "Exactly. Though the embassy or consulate grounds are, technically, foreign soil, the host country is tasked with maintaining security. This is a courtesy extended to promote discourse and to prevent conflict. Remember that the ambassador is akin to the physical presence of the country's leader and needs to be treated as such. And the embassy is his," he paused, "or her house."
A black soldier, rare in the modern army but still present, asked, "What if they 'act up'? Sir."
"Gentlemen, they are surrounded by the Unified States. What do you think they might do that would threaten the country? Invade?"
"Well, this is the Devil of the Rhine we are talking about."
A major who was in charge of the security detail snapped, "That kind of language is strictly forbidden, soldier! You are a representative of the Unified States and I expect you live up to that high standard!" He lowered his voice to a normal tone. "That said, there's a reason why we chose mages almost exclusively for this role. You men can a good watch on things that non-mages couldn't manage. We're getting advanced equipment to scan for magical activity to be set up at all checkpoints. I dare say Chicago will have more mana detection devices than about any country on Earth."
After thinking about it, Cal asked his first question. "Major Sims, is she really as dangerous as they say? Some of the stories are a bit wild."
The officer hesitated and then continued. "There are two views. Officially, the reports from the Republic were overblown and mostly written by people trying to justify losing badly when they should have won or at least lost slower. And every other place where she's shown up. The other view is that the reports are pretty accurate. Her age notwithstanding, the intelligence shows a clear progression of power as time goes on. Given a sufficiently high starting point, her equipment, and the formation of the 203rd and the Salamander Kampfgruppe, we can't discount the stories."
"What do you believe sir?"
The man paused again. For a much, much longer time. "I think both don't even come close to how dangerous she is. Anyone who could possibly answer that question is thoroughly dead and aren't answering our phone calls."
Chapter 53 - My Kind of Town
Jacob Floyd, head of the Chicago Butter and Egg Board (known privately as the Chicago Commodity Exchange) was well satisfied with his life. Markets were good, but even when they were bad, he still made money. In fact, the conditions that the Board could even mathematically fail to succeed were so unthinkable that they hadn't been calculated.
This was one of the reasons that he treated all news equitably, good or bad because, in the long run, it all worked out the same. Thus it was he was unperturbed with the latest report. "Can you repeat that?"
His nervous assistant clarified. "We're seeing an enormous number of option trades around beverage companies. Truly unprecedented."
"Oh what are their positions, Samuel?"
The man swallowed. "They are, basically, betting almost every one will lose at least half their value and some significantly more."
Floyd nodded. "Hmmm, interesting. You say 'almost'."
"Well, yes. There are a small number calls to the opposite. All still beverage companies, some in the Unified States, others in Canadia."
"Hmph. Well, they will donate a pretty penny to the current stockholders at the end of the day. If people have deep pockets and no sense, it's not our place to stop them from donating that to their betters. It's a harsh lesson but commodities aren't for the ignorant or inexperienced!"
"Yes, yes, of course sir but there does seem to be a pattern and there's been news recently..."
"Spit it out, man, does my time seem endless?"
"It seems like they are betting on the passage of the Temperence Bill. Nothing else makes any sense."
"The Temperence Bill?" He thought with a bemused look. "Oh, that Women's March thing? Samuel, let me tell you something; that bill will never pass. The whole concept is ridiculous! Women may be good at managing a household's budget and dealing with their local dog-catcher but what do they know of high finance or politics? They can't even vote, so how much influence could they possibly have?" He gave a belly-laugh for almost a full minute, greatly enjoying himself. "So, who are making such ill-advised decisions? I wager it's some wealthy heiress spending her inheritance inadvisedly."
"The primary trader is affiliated with ZKB out of Waldstatte but when I dug deeper it seems that they are partnered with TvD."
"TvD?"
"It's the company founded by that soldier mage from Germania. The one that has been releasing those recordings recently, Tanya Degurechaff."
"Her? Well, there you go. She's a woman that's come into some money and is gambling it all away. No matter her achievements in music or," he frowned, "fighting, that doesn't mean she knows anything about finance. Frankly, it will serve her right. She did enough damage in The War and it's time she was brought to heel."
* * *
Lange carried in the crate of specially-crafted orbs, carefully nestled in packing straw and linen. He was rather proud of their achievement, especially given the time constraints and requirements.
Hammerschmidt looked amazed. "So soon? You still had another week to get us the full shipment."
"The benefits of interchangeable parts and mass production. I must say, the President's idea to have 'plug in' modules in a standardized case was ingenious. Rather than having specially crafted orbs with extremely high tolerances, we can pump them out with limited features very, very quickly." He waved a hand over the open crate where the gleaming orbs lay quiescent. "We had the casings ready with the energy accumulators in place. We just need to make the spell 'modules' and put them in. A few days testing and done."
Hammerschmidt picked up one and flipped it over to see the TvD symbol and serial number before putting it back. It was noticeably larger than a typical combat orb and lacked polish, for a better word. "I assume we have all the features we need?"
"Naturally! Metal detection, earth moving, shielding and limited flight. Basically you can turn even a C-rated mage into a living bulldozer with these things. There's a smaller run with much higher mana capacity for those who will be doing the heavy lifting. "
"We have plenty of mages getting ready to head out right now so this is quite convenient. General Ugar will be pleased to the move the schedule up by a week or more. I swear that man is second only to von Degurechaff herself when it comes to pushing deadlines until they beg for mercy!"
"Efficiency, always efficiency, my friend. Why take a month for what can be done in a week? Why take a week for what can be done in a day? Why take even a single day for something that doesn't need to be done at all?"
The ex-banker laughed. "That sounds like a quote; from her, I presume?"
"The exact one! For all her easygoing management style, she still abhors waste as if it were just another enemy in a war. I think she called it... process improvement?"
"If it got me my orbs a week early, I'm all for it."
* * *
Visha, happily, and Tanya, mostly unwillingly, were shopping for clothing in Berun. "This one would look so good on you, Tanya!" She held up an evening gown against Tanya's body. "Oh, you'll be the talk of the town in this one."
Degurechaff struggled gamely but the amount of damage she was taking almost did her in. "I don't really need more people talking about me. I'm the ambassador of Germania. Isn't that enough?"
"Not as a diplomat, as a woman!"
Another blow! She responded weakly, "I don't really care about that."
"Well, you should! Even if you aren't actively looking right now, there will be any number looking at you. Which means, if Mr. Right happens to come along when you least expect it, you'll need to be ready, hmmm?"
Critical hit! Release the decoys! "We seem to be only buying stuff for me. Don't you want anything?"
"Oh, maybe soon, but I'm not the one going to the Unified States in few weeks. You know you're going to be in every newspaper, right? Not just an ambassador. Not just a famous, or infamous, soldier. But a female ambassador from the Empire. You should reject them out of hand, but I wouldn't be surprised if there aren't a stack of marriage proposals already at the consulate."
Hull breach! We're going down! "I'm going over single and I fully plan to stay that way by the time of my return." And after as well!
"Love isn't something you plan for, it just happens." She nodded sagely. "You are walking down the street, happen to catch the eye of the right guy and Bam! Suddenly you're head over heels and heading to the altar!"
Sunk beneath the cold, dark waves. All hands lost. Remember me well, my friends...
* * *
Major Hawthorne's eyebrows came down as he looked at the document from the ambassador's representative in the Unified States. As they had not officially establish the consulate yet, there were certain protocols to be followed but even given those criteria, he wasn't sure what to make of it.
"Corporal! Refresh my memory. The Germanian embassy was granted just that one property, correct?"
The clerk glanced through his notes. "Yessir! It was ceded to them as partial compensation for the other embassy lands 'appropriated' while the remaining funds were applied to their war debts." He smirked a bit. "Rather a bad deal for them, but they didn't have much choice."
"Then how do you explain this?" He slid the paper across his desk and waited for a response.
The Corporal's eyebrows also went down in an unconscious imitation of his boss. "W-what? This is almost six city blocks of residences, apartment buildings, businesses and industrial sites! All of it run down and nearly empty but certainly not included in the deed granted."
"I want an answer here in no more than an hour. Make it march!"
"Sir, yessir!" He ran out as if Old Nick were on his tail.
The other document listed the embassy personnel she would be bringing with her. There were over three hundred people listed which was large even for an enormous embassy. More than their numbers were their professions! They were listed as gardeners, waitresses, construction workers, musicians, secretaries... but not a guard or military person amongst them. "Poppycock! Do they really expect me to believe this tripe?!"
Fifty-eight minutes later, the Corporal returned sweaty and out of breath. He saluted sloppily, "Sir!"
He returned the salute perfunctorily. "What did you find out?"
"Apparently, the business von Degurechaff founded has bought out all these properties. She's included them on the list of embassy grounds."
Hawthorn sat down heavily. He searched his mind for precedents and found several. Unfortunately, they all sided with Degurechaff. Her embassy could be as large as she wanted as long as she purchased the land legally. The only vague limitation was that they had to be contiguous but, in this case, it was cut out so neatly from the surrounding area as if demarcated by a surveyor on an empty plain. She had even picked an area that didn't intersect any major roadways. If she put up a wall around the whole place tomorrow, there wasn't a thing to be done.
After waiting a suitable amount of time in utter silence the corporal asked tentatively, "Sir?"
"Track down whatever you can on this list of people. They are her 'staff'."
His eyes bulged. "There must be two hundred people here!"
"Three hundred and twenty seven. You have a week."
"Major, did you say a week? Did you mean a month or maybe longer?"
"ONE WEEK! Now scram!"
After his aide ran out, Hawthorne stared at a map of Chicago and then drew the outlines of Degurechaff's new domain. He felt a twinge in his stomach of a pain not-quite-realized. Little did he know, it was a feeling shared by a man far across the ocean that he would never meet but had more in common with than otherwise.
* * *
A young woman stared at a letter with mystified eyes even though the gist was quite clear. The individual words all made sense but somehow the combinations wouldn't form cogent ideas in her brain. When the meaning finally hammered itself into her psyche, she started shaking. Her eyes widened and those who were familiar with her would be quickly moving away now. Fortunately or not, she was quite alone at this time.
The second letter, a private message separate from the first, was somehow even worse despite being much softer in tone. "...I know this is hard but what you want can never happen. You can do nothing but hurt yourself, hurt your family and hurt this country. It's hard but sometimes letting go IS the hardest thing. For the sake of those who care about you, please let go. Go home. You have your entire life ahead of you. I've made sure there will be no..."
"How could they do this?! Don't they know what she's done? What's she's capable of!" The letters rattled in her hand quickly becoming deformed as she squeezed them. "How can they do this?! How can they do this?!"
No one followed Tanya von Degurechaff's whereabouts more assiduously than she. Even so, she only caught word through the grapevine before it hit the papers.
Degurechaff new Ambassador from Germania!
Songstress Argent or Rusted Silver?
Tanya Arrives, Whence goes Chicago? ...and many more were scattered around the room.
And now this!
The Devil is coming. The Devil is coming! THE DEVIL IS COMING! It was only after a solid minute that she realized she was screaming aloud! When people poked their heads in to find out what was going on, she ran out and the letters she was holding fell to the floor. The top one had a title that started Notice of Dishonorable Discharge from the Army of the Unified States...
* * *
A week later a record was released in the Unified States and, rather unusually, it was ONLY released in the Unified States and, even then, only in Illinois. The styles of music ranged from a deep, deep Blues sound that was popular in the Negro communities but starting to gain traction elsewhere, to the big band sounds, to folk music. There was a unifying theme to them all: they were all about Chicago. It was a love letter to the Windy City and it hit that town like a wrecking ball through a house of cards.
Before he and his buddies got on the bus to town, the sergeant said, "Just a reminder, boys. There are no regs about wearing your uniforms in town and I know it makes you look good to the ladies. But there are regs about your behavior making you, that uniform, the Army of the Unified States and me look bad. Anybody caught acting out line will undergo a straightening session behind the barracks immediately afterwards. Have I made myself clear?"
"Yes sarge!" they announced as one. Cal was six inches taller, twenty years younger, and almost twice the mass of the sergeant but he had no desire to see how painful a lesson he might lay down. The man knew how to fight but, moreover, he knew how to win and there were any number of cocky contenders who learned only the hard way.
Cal made sure he learned from their mistakes.
The soldiers spread out through the town in small groups. Cal, on the other hand, was the only one to go to Mamie's Music Hall. True to its name the focus was on music, albeit with some dancing... and with a strict ban on alcohol. That didn't bother him as he could get a drink anywhere and he was here for the music. They were using a new electric phonograph and some super-fidelity speakers to make the recordings sound near to live. He had heard they had a new shipment of phonographs and was curious to hear them and, naturally, maybe get a dance or two in.
Sarge was certainly right about one thing... men in uniform got more dances. If he had dressed any other way, the best he would have gotten ranged between a cold stare or a bemused look. But he was one of 'our boys' and that made all the difference. Still, his size did keep his number of dance partners below average so he had plenty of time to just enjoy the music and chat with fellow music lovers.
Mamie (her actual name was Sally) stepped up to the microphone and said. "Okay, I know you want to hear some new songs and we have a fresh shipment from across that big ol' pond!" There were a few good-natured boos at this announcement. "Now, now. It's all in Anglish so I don't want to hear any complaints!"
"Get on with the music... we didn't come to hear you talk!" The friendly heckling continued.
"Phyllis, cut off his sarsaparilla, I think he's had too much!" The others laughed but Sally did put on a new record.
Maybe it was the new quality of the record or the phonograph player, but the sound was sublime. Cal's head raised up suddenly, jerking him out of the conversation he was having with a cute brunette that he thought might want to 'talk about music' later that night.
"Now, this could only happen to a gal like me
And only happen in a town like this
So may I say to each of you, most gratefully
As I throw each one of you a kiss..."
The instrumentation was top notch but the vocals! She had a clear voice with enough strength to carry the song. Some people thought 'simple' songs were easier but, in fact, they could highlight every last flaw in the singer's voice and there were simply no flaws to be found. But beyond that, the power there grabbed him by the chest and squeezed. He literally couldn't take a breath until the end of the piece and only realized it when he took a breath at the end.
"Cal, you okay, honey?" His dance partner asked worriedly.
"I'm okay, but that song!"
Mamie read from the album back and said. "Well, that was pretty nice! That was from the new album by Tanya von De... heck, I'm not going to be able to do her name justice." The resulting laughter was broken by a drunken shout. "Why the fuck you play that shit?!"
Cal looked over and saw a private he didn't recognize. The man was obviously intoxicated and had also obviously hit the bottle before coming here.
"Now, now," Mamie said trying to keep the peace. "It's just music and we're just having a good time. Phyllis, get him a pop and help him cool off, okay?"
The man shook off the restraining hands of his friends. "I'm not going to fuckin' cool off! That bitch killed thousands, hun'reds of thousands. She killed good Americans, too! Why are we listening to that monster?!"
Mamie, sensing things were getting out of control, looked around desperately but Cal was already on the move. He clapped a hand on the private's shoulder. "I think you've had a bit too much."
He looked up at Cal, too drunk to be afraid. "I'm jespeaking my piece and that's too much? Bloody Rusted Silver can do whatever she wants?"
Cal squeezed and this seemed to finally get through to him. "Look here. The War is over. We won. She was a soldier like you, like me but she's a civilian now. No matter what happened then, that doesn't excuse you spoiling these people's good times, right?"
The private tried to raise his arm but found that even one-handed, his opponent was enough to keep him from moving. "It just ain't right, it just ain't right." He finally sat down, though, helped by Cal firmly and accepted the soda offered.
When he returned to his table, he found the girl had gone and he just sighed. Well, the mood had been spoiled already. He didn't dance the rest of the night but listened to every single song by Tanya they were willing to play.
* * *
Freight trains went down tracks from western Berun toward the border of the Francois Republic. Rolling stock filled with supplies traveled past devastated fields and ruined towns. On the side of each car was the TvD logo in fresh, bright paint. The end of the line was occupied by a special series of cars that contained sleeping quarters and cooking facilities.
Responding to the train's whistle from several minutes ago, the workers were already gathered. With well-honed efficiency, they removed food, supplies, and, more to the point, new rail that would lengthen the tracks another mile. Once emptied, a combination of mages and specialized machines lifted the cars to the return track where an engine waited for them to take them back to the heart of Germania.
In addition to the cargo, this trip carried a solitary passenger from the logistics department. Captain Baumann, well familiar with rail operations, was amazed at the efficiency. He turned to the foreman and asked him, "Herr Vogt, this is amazing! Can you fill me in on how this works?" He had asked General Ugar for details but was told, 'It's best to see for yourself.'
Vogt grinned and said, "Certainly! I must say, I'm rather proud of my people here. We're doing something new but that hasn't stopped them from making all this happen." He pointed to a field to the north. "Over there are the mage corps. They are detecting and lifting metal out of the ground. Fairly indiscriminately so it's a mix of lead, steel and various other things."
Baumann watched as a ten mages synchronized their specialized orbs and hefted. The soil fell away from the many pounds of metal that remained suspended and were quickly shuffled into waiting carts. "The fields are cleared out to the line demarcated by the flags. This is doubly important becau..." Just then an explosion interrupted their conversation, sending debris flying! Shrapnel pinged off the mages' shields without damage.
The Captain ducked reflexively but the foreman continued as if nothing had happened. "Because there are unexploded ordnance and land mines to deal with. For now, we are just clearing the rail corridor first and the lands immediately around them. We have two types of mages, those good at detecting and marking and those who are good at lifting, so to speak. There were a lot of mages not suitable for combat because they lacked finesse but still could move things around. With the expense of a combat orb, the army had no use for those who couldn't fly and shoot but we are putting those men to good use. And women, naturally.
"Once the land is cleared and the new track is laid, we move everything down to the next area. The scrap goes back to the factory to be melted and reforged into something useful. Some become the rail we are laying but we have a fairly hefty surplus of metal that we are sending to other places."
"That's rather poetic, don't you think? The war machines and bombs becoming a road between the countries?"
The foreman laughed. "What do I know of poetry? I just lay rail." He indicated the other side which was further along in the process. "After the dirt has been cleared, they spread a seed mix on it. Plants that are good for enriching soil they tell me. If you go back a few miles, you'll see a LOT of it."
"I see... so prime land around the train routes gets improved first and then it will branch out to other areas afterward."
"That's mostly right. If TvD owns the land or we have a contract, then we get those cleared out right after the rail line. It's an interesting patchwork if you look at it from above!" He pulled out aerial photos of the rail line and the recovered areas. The 'before' and 'after' comparisons were especially stark. The left depicted the lifeless, war-devastated battlefields without a hint of greenery or even a single thing of normalcy to relieve the eye. The sole, barren, tree was a mockery of all that once was. It was an ashen reminder of the grim realities of the conflict they had. The right had smoothed out trenches, removed the broken vehicles, cleared buildings and just left empty fields in the end. Still lifeless, but with potential.
"Now take a look at this. It's the latest image from the initial phase of our project." The full-color picture looked nearly lifelike and was obviously the same location. Fields of clover and wildflowers stretched to distant hills. The neat line of rails ran beside them and dozens of workers stood along it smiling for the camera. Even the dead tree seemed cheerier as there were birds perched on its limbs next to a nest, promising new hope.
"The difference is unbelievable! Without these pictures, I could hardly believe all you've told me."
"That's what the President is hoping for. We're going to use these to showcase our work here. In time, we want to rehabilitate all this land... in other countries too."
"The Republic?"
"Of course! We're taking this rail all the way to Parisee!"
* * *
"Vice president, we are getting some unusual requests for information from the Unified States."
She raised an eyebrow, "Oh, whatever for? I think we already sent them our personnel list and schedule, right? And all the visa information?"
"Yes, ma'am. Some time ago. They want a lot more detail about the staffers and they are getting increasingly strident."
"Technically, it's none of their business since anyone they object to can just stay on the consulate grounds." She sat back and thought a bit. What would Tanya do? After a while an impish grin, leaning toward wicked, spread on her face. "Accede to their 'request' but tell them that there's a processing and discovery fee of, oh, $50 dollars per person due to the inconvenience and the hurried nature of their request."
"Fifty dollars... Unified States dollars?"
"Yes, exactly. If they don't wish the information, we understand and will send the staff without it. If they do want it, they can transfer the money through the ZKB branch in Chicago. Make sure you emphasize that we stand behind the accuracy of the reports no matter how hard it is to get!"
"Hard to get? We have everything they want in our files right now."
"There's a convenience fee, of course! And give the funds received to the staff going over there with an explanation. It's their information, after all. Of course, we'll deliver the paperwork to their embassy in Berun. No sense spending money to ship it across the ocean ourselves."
"Yes ma'am!"
* * *
A dirty hand rubbed away the dust and dirt from a metal device. Each swipe revealed the finely wrought invention. Brass and steel and crystal began to shine even in the shadowy confines of the shanty. The scant walls kept other scavengers from finding his discovery and he worried about further cleaning. Worried that someone would spot his prize. For some reason, though, he couldn't stop himself.
* * *
Invention after invention flowed out of TvD's labs. Some were shelved (temporarily) because they were currently impractical even if possible. Others, not economic to sell, were kept for use by TvD staff or officers. Others still were sent to market to pay for the next generation of research.
In addition to more durable goods was a smaller department that focused on consumables. The President had predicted improvements in freezing technology (currently in progress in their tech department) so they were working on frozen vegetables and frozen dinners. She had mentioned it casually, "Growing seasons are maybe half the year and canning removes so much flavor. Proper freezing would preserve the taste and nutrition. In fact, the convenience of a full dinner frozen on one tray might be welcome to busy people."
All their department was involved in tasting the new products. Being machinists, engineers and, mostly, ex-military, they were free with their opinions about each creation. Dinnertime was greeted with cheers or boos as they critiqued each new item presented. As the weeks went on, the cheers were gradually winning out.
Lange poked at green beans with his fork and noted that they had enough firmness that they didn't collapse this time. He brought it to his mouth with anticipation and took a big bite. A weird expression crossed his face as he spit it out! "Mein Gott! There's enough salt on this for a team of horses!"
Others, warned by his example, took more careful tastes before shaking their heads. One of the scientists carefully avoided the beans and tried the chicken and gravy. "The meat is fine, though. Maybe a touch more flavor in the gravy would be nice but this is trending well. Sausages could be good, right?"
A woman with a clipboard asked, "How about the drink?"
"Well, it's orange-y but you can't really mistake it for orange juice."
"I think the military would like it. Vitamins are hard to come by in the field. I suspect kids who don't have access to oranges would probably enjoy it, too."
His tablemate laughed, "Access to oranges is tough all around. But dried and frozen 'drink' would help during the winter months when Ispagna isn't producing."
"Actually, the dried drink could be produced close to where the fruits are grown and shipped in powdered form. Why take the risks of shipping fruit that can rot? Fresh is best, but horribly impractical much of the year."
"Okay, we'll put it as a backup drink for the offseason. Also, refrigerated shipping containers might be a nice method for luxury goods until we can make the technology more efficient and cheaper." She made another note. "Next is a special creation made just for the President. I'd appreciate your input!"
* * *
Tanya looked up from her paperwork. "Ah, Visha, just in time. I need a break." She picked up her coffee cup and an odd look crossed her face as she took a sip. "Visha. You are my dear friend and I trust you with my life and all my fortune. But what is this you've put in front of me?"
"It's a new product. They call it instant coffee and say it was your idea." Visha looked doubtful. "Should we tell them not to go forward with this?"
It's better than the crap we got on the front most of the time. That's very, very faint praise. "It hurts me to say this, but tell them to go ahead. Busy people will love this. They will love this so much that it's frightening."
"It's a go, then." She shook her head but didn't argue.
"But, please, PLEASE never give this to me again!"
* * *
"Temperance Amendment passes! Read all about it! Get yer paper here! New amendment law of the land!"
Chapter 55 - Silver Medals
One borough of Chicago was abuzz with activity. Well, to be accurate, all the boroughs of the Windy City were usually busy but this one had long since been in decline other than the brewery. This neighborhood was getting a renovation of tremendous proportions, making the remaining neighbors curious. Most were unfamiliar with the the TvD logo which adorned the construction signs (other than those who were fond of fine pens and there were precious few of those there!)
One woman cocked her head to the side. "Isn't that who makes Zarts?" she asked her friend.
"Eh, surely not!" The both surreptitiously took out a Zart out of their purses to compare and were surprised to see it was the same logo. "Maybe they are making a new factory?"
"That would be nice. The Woolworth's is always out of them so I have to place a big order and hope they last until the next time they come in."
"You know what I heard? They say that there are only women in the Zart factories. Even the managers and owners."
"No! I mean, that's what their advertisements say but you can't always trust those."
"It's true! My cousin works in a factory in Jersey and she tells me it's the same for all their factories."
"What, Mabel, you have been holding out on me! If you have someone on the inside, see if you can order some for me, too!"
* * *
The entire purchased neighborhood became a massive construction site. The managers and a cadre of 'construction mages' were from Germania but the rest were drawn from unemployed brewery workers.
While happy to still be getting a paycheck there were still some grousing. "This is good for now, but these jobs ain't gonna last forever, natch." The man sat on a half-demolished wall as he ate his lunch. He was wishing for a cold beer right about now as was his habit. Hell, the brewery let them pull a free glass at lunch and another few after their shifts. "Damned amendment, screwing everything up."
His lunchmate was more sanguine. "Hey, TvD pays well at least and I heard something." The speaker was (formerly) middle management at the brewery but had worked his way up from the docks. Even he was still down here hauling debris and working construction.
"Oh, well spill it!"
"The brewery owners and TvD have some plan worked out for after the construction. Do a good job here and your pay will be even better than before."
"You'd believe that? With no brewery, what would we be doing? I worked there my whole life!"
"I got it straight from Mr. Keller. You know he's a straight shooter, right?"
"Well, I'll give you that." He had kept them paid, at least a bit, until they got other jobs. Even when he was shut down. "If Keller said it, I'll almost believe it."
"Almost?"
"Belief doesn't get the horses fed. I'll do my part once I'm back on the job!"
* * *
For his part, Keller was in a deep discussion with Yvette Oberst. The other times they had met, the banker had come as well but right now he was managing their portfolio while she handled all other matters.
Keller was one of three brothers that had inherited the brewery and the only one who actually worked there. The others had sold their shares leaving the remaining brother as the largest stakeholder but still owning just a minority position. Keller Brothers Brewery had become just Kellers not long afterward. As of now, though, TvD had acquired almost all of the outstanding shares from people willing to dump a 'dead' stock.
Yvette grinned and presented the contract and then summarized them. "Here are the final papers. You keep all your shares, we'll keep the other two-thirds. We don't interfere in day-to-day operations but we do set general policy. We might be changing up what's offered significantly and introducing new techniques and machinery. But we absolutely want someone who knows what they are doing and understands the industry to run things!"
The older man looked at the paperwork but didn't touch it. "And you claim that this is all legal? No harm will come to me or my workers?"
"Absolutely. And we have a very smart, and very expensive legal team on retainer. Anything that happens in this neighborhood is under Imperial law. And we don't have any foolish laws against drinking! Now, we will have to make sure no one smuggles alcohol into the Unified States so we won't sell anything by the bottle, just by the glass. Even the hardest-nose judge won't try to argue that alcohol INSIDE your body is smuggling!" She laughed at the audacity of Degurechaff.
Keller had looked over the laws himself and even inquired at a friend of his, a full-time lawyer and part-time rabbi with whom he had shared many glasses of beer. This shiska is one smart cookie! You tell her if she needs any more lawyers, my firm is available!
"Now, I have even better news! As part of our renovations, we are refurbishing the old apartment buildings in this area and will offer them first to brewery workers at a discounted rate. Family can live here, too. No 'company store' nonsense since anyone is allowed to live outside of the consulate grounds but they'd have to commute and pay more."
"Eh? What's the downside?"
"Honestly, it's a win-win for the both of us. Your people can work, live and go for entertainment all in this area. That means our workforce is nearby and if they spend money, it comes back to us in the end. Again, anyone can go outside for any of that. We aren't making it mandatory, just available as long as we have room." She pulled out a map and spread it on the table. "Sorry I don't have a copy for you just yet but things are moving fast and I need this one."
She pointed at the outline of the neighborhood. "That's where the wall is going to go. Here and here are housing and apartments. That will be a four-star hotel. There's the brewery, of course. Shops, commercial establishments and more factories will be established here as well." She tapped the map again. "Now, these forty places in red will all be restaurants and bars. "
"All of them? There's no way you could fill that many businesses with diners and drinkers. Even half that number would be ambitious."
"You underestimate how far people will go for a good time and good drink. This area is going to become a tourist destination for all Chicago, all Illinois, perhaps the entire Unified States!"
He signed after some thought and sent a message to his old managers that they would be brewing starting at the end of the month. He never bothered to read the contract and simply shook hands with Yvette afterwards.
* * *
Tanya glanced over the diagram of the consulate and pointed out security changes she wanted and how to arrange things in the house that was never meant to be an government building. From what she had heard, it was a faded relic of a better time for the neighborhood. Run down somewhat and needing maintenance but still solid and even opulent once cleaned up.
"Hmmm... a dedicated music room. Interesting." She looked at the mansion inventory and saw that less-mobile instruments remained but most of the rest had been sold off. "Visha, make sure that the music room is restocked with all the usual instruments I might need and that they are in good shape and tuned. Have recording devices imported from our labs and requisition communication equipment as well. Not high power, though, wouldn't want to upset our new neighbors."
The other woman smiled. "Already in progress on the instruments and recorders and I'll get the rest today. Did you want to keep that particular piano? It's a smaller one according to the inventory."
"Absolutely."
While Visha left to complete her tasks, Tanya thought of her past life... something she did less and less these days. Am I losing something? Or am I just 'growing up'?" That life is gone, literally just a memory now.
As an upper-middle (or lower-upper) class family, there were certain expectations and he had done his best to fulfill them. Perhaps to a fault. Excellence was the expected outcome! Runner-up in a math competition? Quit the club! Missed first in swimming meets? Then there was no more need to compete. Every time it became clear he'd never top the chart in anything, he gave it up and then he strove to find something he did better than anyone.
Back then, I never liked being second best at anything. If I couldn't excel, then there were no need for accolades. I only wanted the gold, never the silver! She suddenly broke out laughing! Long and hard until she had to gasp for breath before she started laughing again!
Visha poked her head in. "Tanya?" Her expression was half-smile, half-worry, not sure which way to go.
"Sorry to bother you, nothing is wrong. I was just reminded that irony can actually be funny. Oh, please set me up with a piano instructor; a female one. We don't have much time left, so I best get started."
* * *
Major Hawthorne looked at the stack of dossiers, somewhat impressed. "All this in only six days. Good job. How accurate is the information?"
"My sources say the 'guarantee' it. It looks like about fifteen percent of the staff are ex-military but that's not out of line considering her background and their unemployment rate. Two-thirds are women, as well."
"Consider who we are investigating, I hope you didn't discount these women, Corporal."
"No sir!" He sweated a bit because, subconsciously, he HAD discounted them and only did a perfunctory examination of their data.
Hawthorn flipped through the files. "So many widows. Is she bringing them here to work or to get husbands?"
"My understanding, sir, is that her company preferentially hires veterans and widows. These dossiers were telegraphed over but the originals should be here soon with photographs for additional security." He didn't mention he had kept an entire team of telegraphists and typists busy for sixteen hours as there was so much data to be relayed.
"I hadn't heard that. Where did you get that intel?"
"Actually, it was from their advertisements in the Unified States and overseas. But it was confirmed by our intelligence department!"
"It's poor practice to use a subject's own propaganda as a starting point for investigations. Regardless, how is construction going on the consulate grounds?"
"The walls are up, about a third of the buildings have been demolished and the rest are being refurbished. Honestly, the rate of construction is impressive. Some of the construction workers let slip that they are making extensive use of mages to supplement heavy machinery."
Hawthorne stopped his routine sorting of papers and repeated carefully. "Did you say walls?"
"Yes sir. You had mentioned that she would wall up the whole area and it looks like she's doing just that. If you hadn't predicted it, I'd be shocked right now."
I didn't mean that literally, you idiot! "I think I need to take a look at this personally. Get me an appointment with them. ON the consulate grounds."
"Sir, she hasn't arrived yet. Do you mean the assistant? I think his title is Generalkonsul. He came through customs yesterday."
"Of course I mean him. I could hardly have a meeting with someone not present, could I?"
"At once, sir!"
* * *
Colonel Oskar Karl Gustav Adolf (at one time PRINCE Oskar Karl Gustav Adolf, fifth son of Wilhelm II, the last Emperor of Imperial Germania), was bemused to find himself on American shores. He came at the insistence of his father who, despite no longer having any authority over him officially, still ran his children like a private battalion he happened to have sired.
"Oskar, the crown may be gone, but that doesn't mean we still aren't tied to the heart of Germania. I've arranged for you to be the Generalkonsul there with civilian rank matching your military one."
"With this von Degurechaff as the Botschafter, of course." he said dryly. "Perhaps you are playing matchmaker, father?"
"Of course I am! She the finest example of why royal blood needs fresh infusions from the common. We may have given her Wings during the war but she has certainly flown on her own afterwards."
"I hope you are not insisting, sir. I have several ladies of good standing I favor."
The former Emperor waved away this objection. "Because you have 'several', that means you haven't decided yet. Go there. Look at her. Learn from her. And then decide." He chuckled and sipped his drink, barely wincing. "You might be surprised at your opinion afterward."
"By your wishes, father. I'll keep an open mind but I make no promises."
"How could I ask for anything more?"
Oskar was currently guiding a Major from the Unified States through the renovation project having only been briefed on it a scant hour before the man arrived. The American had been quite insistent, pointing out they were responsible for external security and the consulate was quite a bit larger than he had planned on.
"I must apologize for the mess as the renovations are not quite complete. As you can see, the walls are quite complete and we have carefully built them not to interfere with traditional right-of-way corridors. Naturally, no such restrictions apply on consulate grounds."
"Naturally," the major responded dryly.
"Most of the buildings will be dedicated to shopping, restaurants, tourism and the like. There are some apartments set aside for workers, primarily Americans and we have a four-star hotel planned plus two cheaper ones for the less affluent." Oskar had an excellent memory, which had served him well during the Great War and a natural flair for presentations.
"You seem quite confident that you'll have a large number of visitors."
Officially, I can't admit we'll be running the only legal brewery south of Canadia! "Who's to say how plans will turn out? But, it's best to be overprepared than the otherwise, eh? Oh, to the left is going to be a park and playground next to the school."
"Schools, too?"
"Well, yes, since many, perhaps most of our workers have children, it's more convenient to let them learn on-premise, so to speak. Ah, perhaps you are worried that we will need funds? Fear not, all of this has been budgeted."
"Speaking of budgets, how did you fund all of this, this, this expanse of a 'consulate'?"
"It's my understanding that the Ambassador purchased it herself. Perhaps it is better to say the consulate is owned by von Degurechaff and Germania is leasing part of it for official purposes."
"Colonels in your country must get paid more than those here."
"Ah, that. Well, a number of very good investments have provided a lot of capital. It helped that this area was, how shall we say, economically struggling? There were many bargains to be had and it allowed us to acquire an appropriate amount of land."
Did he just say appropriate?! She owns more land in Chicago than any other person alive or dead! "Perhaps we have different definitions of appropriate."
Oskar spread his hands grandiosely. "We want to make this place a showcase of Germanian culture. To show the people of your great country what makes us unique while also highlighting that we are not so different at heart. Fortunately, the Unified States did not participate in the last war, otherwise such a project would be quite a bit more difficult."
"As you say... difficult."