Tools are neither good nor wicked. They lack the capacity for thought, the will required to experience moral choice. A gun is no more or less evil than a rock, or a flower, or a toaster, or a sunset. They simply are regardless of what purpose may have gone into their fashioning. In that sense, a bomb is as innocent as a newborn, perhaps even more as it lacks even the capacity to sin.
But...
What if a person becomes a tool?
* * *
The Kalipso slid into her dock with a jaunty air. Battered from outside and within, she was in amazingly good shape. Throngs lined the docks to wave at the incoming ship and those aboard were equally enthusiastic (and perhaps relieved) to see the New York shore at last.
Two relatively luxurious busses were provided for TvD employees (plus one new maid). Similarly, they were booked in a good hotel. Not the grandest, but luxurious enough to raise an eyebrow if they had a board of directors (they didn't). The extra expense was justified because they agreed to let her part have the entire top floor and a private elevator.
Mercedes looked around, puzzled. She asked one of the others, "Where is Señora Degurechaff? Does she have private car?"
"No, not her." He laughed and shook his head. "She wanted to get to the theater faster and since the Unified States doesn't really have any laws against flying except over restricted areas, she just slipped out under magical camouflage and went straight there." He mentally calculated the distance. "In fact, she should be there now."
* * *
Cal and Gisela, for a change of pace, were dining at a restaurant outside of the consulate grounds. A brightly-lit sign "Le Continent" hung over the double doors. Gisela glanced at the entrance. "How did you find this restaurant?"
"I talked to some of the factory guys. They said this place has a good steak and fish entrees."
"With the packing yards and the port, that makes good sense. I'm looking forward to it!" Gisela did look quite enthusiastic. She was one of the main 'tasters' at the consulate and could be counted on to hit all the trial runs of new food before they were released to the public. "Maybe they will showcase a new recipe, hmmm?"
Cal laughed! "The guys said the portions were big even for a Franois joint, so I guess we'll both get what we need." She put a hand on his arm for stability. Heels and cobblestones were a tricky mix! But he still thrilled at the touch.
The waiter was as elegant as the entryway. "You have a reservation?" he said with a mild Francois accent that Gisela was pretty sure was an affectation but she didn't call on him on it.
Cal responded, "Yes, for two."
"Ah, here it is, please follow." Cal noticed that the restaurant was half empty and doubted he had even need a reservation.
They looked over the menu and Gisela tapped an item with one well-manicured finger. "I think I'll have this. It's been a long time since I've had turbot."
"That's... a fish? Okay, sounds good." When the waiter came over, he gave their order. "Turbot en matelote for the lady and I'll have a 20 oz prime cut and bordelaise sauce with mushrooms." With Gisela's coaching, his Francois accent was better than that of the Maitre'd.
The lack of alcohol to start was painfully obvious and the waiter seemed off his game because of it. The beverage card mostly listed bottled waters, near beer, and fruit juices.
They drank water.
Still, the food came out after their amuse bouche and smelled enticing. "That appetizer barely existed before it was gone, but this steak looks like the real deal."
As they were starting, they overheard a conversation nearby. "Did you hear the Devil bombed something else?" A businessman groused to his friend.
"What?"
"Yeah, an ammo depot."
His friend took a sip of water reflexively, winced, and put it down. "She's a monster, but that's just stupid, Mark. Why in the name of God would she bomb the ship she's sailing on and a depot that almost took it out again?" He shook his head. "No, someone is trying to settle a score. The Russys. The Legadonians. Hell, even Dacia might want a piece of her."
"On Unified States land? Would any of them dare?"
He smirked. "You were ready to blame her right now. That's a lot of coverage."
"Fine, fine, you're right. She's not bombing herself. But she's here now and that makes her our problem."
"Speaking of which, we're going for drinks later?"
The first speaker looked at him as if he were crazy. "Huh? Of course we are!"
Cal smiled at this and dug into his steak. It was just a few degrees above bloody and the mushrooms were piled up. "Now this is a proper sized meal!"
"Quality, Cal, quality. Quantity is just fuel. Quality is art."
"Well give me the Sistine Chapel over Fabrege eggs then!" He enjoyed his steak but a slight look crossed his face.
"Something wrong with your 'art', big guy?"
"Nah, the steak is fine but the mushrooms and gravy..."
She poked a fork into one of his mushrooms and ate it contemplatively. "Mmmm... I know the problem. Here, try a bit of my fish. Make sure to get some of the sauce."
Despite his protestations, he had learned a lot about food from her and they had sampled everything at the consulate. "Huh. This tastes off, too."
"They are substituting. Your bordelaise is supposed to be made with red wine and my matelote, too. They tried to to put in a dash of vinegar and a bit of sugar I think to make up for it but it doesn't work. A fine sauce is carefully balanced and you can't just change how you do it on a whim."
"Yeah, I had this at the Francois restaurant back at the consulate. It was tastier than this."
"It's same for the fish. The delicate flavor responds more to the sauce than the more strongly flavored beef." She ate another bite and smiled. "Still, thank you for taking me out. It's nice to try new things."
"Why, it's my pleasure, ma'am."
They ate and chatted companionably, long since having gone beyond friends but not quite yet lovers. "I've wondered, Cal, how it feels to be a mage. It seems, well, magical for want of a better word."
"It's good but there's bad as well."
She pursed her lips, "You sound like a millionaire complaining about the problems of being wealthy."
"Oh it's amazing, don't get me wrong! I only learned I was a mage when I was an adult so it's still feels pretty good. But it's not like a genie where you just wish for something to happen. It takes energy and you can get just as fatigued flying and doing things." He thought back to basic mage training. "It's a mental fatigue, you get tired, confused even a bit unbalanced if you do..."
"Do? Do what?"
He sighed. "You can magically stimulate yourself. Like drugs to keep yourself awake, push yourself farther. It's not recommended and most orbs these days can't even use those formulas. It's easy to get it wrong – and that's a nightmare – but it's not exactly healthy even if you are doing it right." He looked in the distance. "One guy in basic just before us had an older orb and figured out how to run that formula. They found him dead while I was there. Starved. He was still holding onto the orb right til the end."
Gisela shivered as she imagined the scene. "How horrible!"
"So magic is great, and I'm glad I have it, but I don't for once imagine it can solve all my problems."
She put her hand on his in comfort. Though he had a stoic facade, she knew the death had affected him more than he let on. "Well, there IS one thing magic can't fix."
"Pardon?"
She grinned impishly. "Yes, getting a waiter over here with the dessert menu. Maybe they have a crème brulee or cherry clafoutis to make up for the entree!"
* * *
Tanya touched down lightly in a narrow alley, unseen by all. She was dressed somewhat formally as she was, after all, the ambassador from one great nation to another great nation. Per her tastes, she wore well-pressed pants paired with an unfortunately feminine long-sleeved white blouse. With her cane under her arm, and highly polished boots, she looked like an equestrian back from a ride.
To her surprise, music was being practiced inside despite the events of the day. "What hard workers! I'll have to give them a bonus if they do well during the concert." She cocked her head and listened for a moment. There was a certain passion to their playing she appreciated. "I guess musicians are made of sterner stuff than I imagined. Then again, they said that the band on the Titanic played even to the very end."
After they finished their current piece, they heard clapping from the entranceway, neither slow nor fast, but simply appreciative. "Well done! Play like that this weekend and you'll go far."
"Ah, Ambassador Degurechaff, welcome." The conductor nodded and waved her to the stage. "Everyone take ten! Not a minute longer!"
"Mr. Robinson. It's good to see you hard at work. I worried that the contretemps in the harbor would derail you but I see those fears were for naught." The shook hands briefly.
He laughed self-deprecatingly. "It very well may have but Minister Gustav helped get us back on course."
"Oh, he's here?"
A voice from offstage responded, "Where else would I be?" He and Wilson walked toward the other two.
"Well, there IS a consulate to run. When I asked you to set this up, I didn't mean for you to do everything in person."
When they shook hands, he had a bit of a shock. This pre-adult woman carried an air of authority he rarely encountered except among generals, world leaders and the like. If he had to pick someone she was most like on first acquaintance, he'd have to say his own father! "The consulate runs itself. I've never seen more dedicated – or flexible – workers in all my life. A few hundred more like them and the War would have turned out differently." The last he said in Germanian.
She shook her head and answered in Anglish. "Even thousands more wouldn't have changed anything... not with wrong decisions being made at the uppermost levels. But, on to more pleasant topics. I'm very pleased with what I heard just now."
The conductor nodded again, a habit of his. "Will you be resting today?"
Tanya looked puzzled. "Why would I need to? I've done little but rest since leaving Europa. No, we have little time and I'm going to be thoroughly involved in getting everyone ready. Since only I know how the music should sound, I'm afraid there's no substitute for it."
* * *
Hours later, the exhausted musicians wearily put away their instruments. Even the conductor was wearied by her exacting standards and merciless speech. She accepted nothing but the best and she had a way of forcing out of them.
One cellist summed up everyone's mood after the Germanians had left for the day. "I now understand why they called her the Devil of the Rhine!"
* * *
Oskar was relaxing in his suite while Wilson prepared his clothes for tomorrow. The hotel was sufficiently swanky that the better rooms even had their own radios. Needless to say, the bombing of the morning dominated the airwaves as straight news was peppered with speculation so that the ratio of the latter to the former was overwhelming.
He turned the machine off since it was useless for either news or entertainment. Likewise the stacks of newspapers were equally bereft of 'new' news. "If nothing else, this has been a windfall for those who print these things."
"The radios at the consulate were better quality anyway. It's almost painful listening to these in comparison."
Wilson entered from the side with the pressed clothes neatly on hangers. "It seems the Ambassador's passion for perfection extends to such things as well."
"Anyone who's life has depended on a piece of equipment that has failed at the worst time appreciates things that are well-made. I can only assume that now she has some authority, she won't tolerate shoddy workmanship." He took the drink Wilson had made for him... the ambassadorial mail had enormous privileges and Oskar made use of it freely. "What do you think of her?" He didn't specify who 'her' was, naturally.
"She... feels like a man."
"A man, you say?"
"She fit in so naturally with the men around her. If I closed my eyes, and ignored her voice, I would think that it was just some other man who was leading the people around her. It was quite interesting, I found."
"She was raised by the military, after all, so it's not surprising. Yet she remains an attractive young woman with, apparently, large amounts of money and increasing political influence. One wonders where that will take her."
"Why wonder, sir? Won't you have a front seat to future events?"
"I don't find your observation very comforting, Wilson!"
* * *
The long road was shortening, day by day. Dusty footprints, muddy footprints, and, at times, no footprints at all. Clenched hand taut, bloodshot eyes focused... a lean shadow came and went, the darkness leaving as quickly as it came. But moving, ever moving.
Chapter 73 - Feuer und Eisen
Chapter Text
Tanya mostly found herself skimming papers these days. There was little variation in their contents with the explosion still unexplained. Rather refreshingly, only a few blamed her for the explosion though there was a bare consensus that it had something to do with her arrival. She, herself, agreed with them though not publicly. She refused all interviews but didn't fail to mention there was a concert at the end of the week.
As Oskar had a similar bent and they had yet to start their working relationship in earnest, they found themselves sharing the pile of papers over dinner to save time and needless duplication of purchases. Wilson was in charge of organizing affairs and stopping unwanted visitors/calls while Mercedes kept them supplied with food and coffee to fuel their work.
Over and above work, the two examined each other surreptitiously, trying to judge how best to work with them and what capabilities they might have.
Tanya sipped her coffee. For an ex-Prince, someone who should be more annoyed by the failed end of the war than most, he is taking to this position surprisingly well. Working under a commoner, and a woman, can't be something he's used to but he seems serious about doing his job properly. For now, we'll give him the benefit of the doubt and enough leeway to make his mark.
Hmmmm... apparently the rumors weren't just all talk. No matter what she did in Europa, it's still just talk but I saw her bring together dozens of men she's never met with nothing more than force of personality. And this is after two assassination attempts! She also seems as comfortable with the minutiae of management, something you don't expect from a youngster or a military ma... woman. I'll be damned if father wasn't right, she's definitely worth keeping an eye on and following for at least awhile. "Anything of note in those?"
She shook her head. "Speculation, piled on rumor, piled on hearsay. Some federal fellow, J Edwin Hooper will be heading up an investigation according to a few sources. How about over there?"
"The same, I'm afraid. Well, there was one thing different." He dug back through the papers. "In addition to repairing the damage on the the Lady of the Harbor, they plan on adding some glass panels so that the torch will look like a torch when lit from within." He shrugged. "I know it's irrelevant but at least it's different from all the rest."
"No, no, no. This is interesting." She bit on her thumbnail in thought. "Contact the Harbor Agency and make them an offer, free of charge as a gift from their friends in Germania." She went on to explain exactly what she was offering as his eyes grew wide. I was wrong. I've been underestimating her all this time! This will certainly turn some heads! He found himself looking forward to the consternation this would cause with an almost childish delight.
* * *
The orchestra was almost pathetically pleased that Tanya was splitting her time between them and the choir. Once she was sure that the conductor had a good grasp of the music, she was drilling the singers, male and female, on the unfamiliar words. Unlike most of her music, this was in Germanian and only a few of the performers were versed in the language. Fortunately, many had experience in singing phonetically for choral pieces in operas and they had good ears for the music even if they didn't understand the words.
As tempted as I am, I won't change any of the lyrics. Maybe Being X will get constipation with all of the pagan lines from the original. I might play fast and loose with pop songs but desecrating one of the greatest works created by man... there's a line that I will not cross.
Of course, she was singing as well. How could she do otherwise? There were four soloists: herself, a rather sexy contralto, a mulatto tenor that she had pulled out of the choir where he had been hiding behind the others and a bass that looked like a beardless, dark-haired Santa Claus.
"Okay, everyone has their individual parts down, I think. Time to get serious and bring it together."
"Should we go to where the orchestra is?"
Tanya hmphed. "If you can't perform acapella, you are just a fraud pretending to be a singer." She played a D-minor chord on the piano to fix the key in their ears. "And... begin!"
The blending of voices, long familiar to the members of the chorus, was normally quite satisfying. The loss of the individual blended into a greater whole that was both entertaining and fulfilling.
This was nothing like that.
Each person's contribution was distinct and yet supported the whole. Tanya's presence encouraged, no insisted, that every voice was distinct even while part of the greater effort, none were submerged into a homogenized whole.
Lazier or less-skilled singers had nowhere to hide or, to be more charitable, they could sense their own performance flaws and were able to correct them. No matter the motivation, the performance was noticeably better from moment to moment almost miraculously.
They reached the beautiful finale and silence descended. The singers and listeners just stared, transfixed.
Tanya had a slight smile on her face. "Ahhhh..." She clapped her hands together twice, breaking the spell. "Okay, once again, and let's get it right this time!"
* * *
Sebastian looked up from the daily communiques, surprise evident on his face. "More trainees? Where are they all coming from? No, more importantly, why are they all coming now?"
Elka smirked, but not in a mean way. "You should an keep an eye on the trends better."
He sighed and rubbed his forehead. "There's so much going on, I can't keep up with it all!"
"This time, I'll help you out. The President took half of the Steel Mages with her to the Unified States and that..."
"Wait? Steel Mages?"
"It's an unofficial name for non-combat mages that are good and moving metal around. Most of the ones we had were on the rail projects but she thought they would be useful in Chicago. So we've been hiring, and training, replacements."
"There are a lot more names on this list than the number she took with her, I think."
"As it turns out, once people found out what they could do and they had orbs than can assist, they are in extremely high demand. Not just on railways, but in mining, construction, industry and so on. Short term projects, rather than permanent employment, are far more than half of them. Technically, those ones are still TvD employees and we guaranteed them a small stipend if there's no current work for them but we haven't had to pay out on that yet."
"That's surprising. I'd expect that any regular business would want to control their employees more directly."
"Well, flexibility is useful but it's the nature of the employees that has made them wary."
Feeling that there was something he was missing, he tilted his head slightly to one side. "Their... nature? Ex-criminals or foreigners or the like?"
"Cripples." She didn't mince words. "The employers don't trust they are able to pull their own weight, so they depend on our guarantee that someone from our company will fill a 'role' rather than direct employment. The interesting thing is that, based on what statistics we've been able to find, they are on average BETTER than those who have all their functional limbs."
"Ach, nee!, how did we even determine that?"
"The President suggested it in passing. Something about phantom limbs... I think it's some sort mage term. Geistwaffen? At any rate when they hire a generic worker from us, they have our assurance that someone will do the job and they don't have to worry about the details like leasing an orb for the person."
"Thank you for explaining, Elka. With a name like Steel Mages, it sounded like a military unit of some sort."
"Most are retired army, so that's not far off."
"How do you know all this, anyway? It's not in your area."
"I'm dating a Steel Mage now... in fact we have dinner plans tonight."
"Ah, good good." He had a sudden thought and blurted it out without self-censoring. "Wait, is he one of the..." his voice trailed off as he realized what he was about to say.
"For everything I require of him, I assure you he is fully functional!"
* * *
Drew Smith looked at the offer from the Germanian ambassador. Any other day, he would reject it out of hand but... the one who proposed it was the Hero of the Harbor. "Have you confirmed the legitimacy of this?"
His assistant shrugged, "It has the ambassadorial seal and it's signed by Prince Oskar himself. Well, no longer a prince, but who would dare fake this when both are currently in the city?" He had served in the Port Authority for years and would likely be there after Smith was gone. "Why not take them up on it?"
"It's a very enticing proposal. But, this is American soil and that statue was a gift from the Francois Republic!"
"If the War was still going on, maybe we'd have an issue but she was exonerated throughout the Continent. Hell, not to state the obvious, she's an official ambassador! Gifts between countries are commonplace. As you say, even the Lady was a gift. Why not another gift added to that one?"
As a political appointee to a cushy job, he hadn't had to make any major decisions... ever. "What are the estimates from those construction firms?"
"The shortest one is six months. Even the cheapest one is damned expensive, to say the least. Both of those are different estimates, by the way. The most reputable firm just laughed when I asked about a guarantee for the work. They also had the longest work time and the highest cost."
"You've read the whole Germanian proposal." He braced himself. "How long, how much?"
"Well..."
"Spit it out!"
"Two days. Free."
"Two... excuse me?"
"Not precisely free, but close enough. All they asked for is some materials they don't have available and that we put up a plaque commemorating the incident."
"For free. And just two days."
"Yes sir."
"Why are you even talking about this! Get on the telephone, no, go in person and accept it!"
* * *
Yvette Oberst was riding the train... again. Frankly, if she didn't look at her itinerary, she'd have little idea where she was headed to currently. Even when she was in a sleeper car, she never got enough rest. She sighed, "So noisy."
An older man said jovially from across the aisle, "You must not travel much, my dear. You get used to it until it's like your mother rocking a cradle!"
Not wanting to argue, she didn't mention that she had traveled literally thousands of miles since starting work for TvD. "Ah, I was just comparing it to the rails I've ridden in the past."
"Hrumph! How much quieter could it be? This is a thoroughly modern line; how much quieter could they be?"
Losing some patience, but keeping her temper she said, "The Selene line is much, much smoother... to the point that it's a different experience."
More curious than combative, the gentleman raised his eyebrows. "I've heard of it but no details yet. Do you know of them?"
"I'm no rail expert but I heard a few things. The first change was the steel stuff is welded together."
He nodded. "That would be most of the noise, certainly."
"Right. With that noise reduced, the next thing was the wind noise." She thought back to what her rail-loving friend had told her. "This was rather easier because there was a project to reduce the, ummm..."
"Aerodynamic drag."
"Yes, yes that's it. So the trains can be more efficient but they also got quieter at the same time. After that, there are other projects... at this point my knowledge gets sketchy."
"No, please continue. This is fascinating!" He took a sip of his coffee and leaned closer.
"Insulation on the train cars for temperature and noise. A new model of engine that works better with less noise. New wheels." She smiled, "I'm sorry, I can't remember everything."
"I appreciate you talking to old fella like me, miss. If you ever wish to visit our offices, I'll give you a warm welcome." He fished out a business card from a silver case and handed it to her.
Yvette glanced at the name, "H. E. Huntington" and belated handed him one of her own which he took gravely and carefully stored.
Yvette Oberst of TvD, eh? I knew she wasn't just a random traveler. Apparently her boss is building a rail network from, literally, the ground up. I suppose that's the advantage of working from nothing as a start.
"As it turns out, I'll be visiting California soon. In about," she flipped open her agenda, "ummm... what's the date again?"
* * *
Anluk, though he appreciated the orb he had been given, still maintained the physical therapy he had been assigned by the doctors. He kept meticulous records of his progress and had constructed a rather extensive array of exercise machines. A series of pulleys and steel cables kept tensions proper and prevented accidental damage.
Months ago, he had noticed something odd. When transitioning between the orb and getting into his therapy machines, the metal around his legs 'jumped' a bit before settling down. He had written a letter to the Colonel immediately as it sounded like something she would be interested in.
Her response exceeded any and all expectations. Within three days, two machinists, a researcher, an engineer, a personal doctor had descended on his house and took over a barn on the property. Fortunately, his nearest neighbor was a mile or more away so the incessant banging (and occasional cursing) bothered no one.
And now!
Dozens of men were arriving soon and barracks were being thrown up as his was bursting at the seams just with the ones who were already here. He knew quite of the men arriving, so it would be a reunion of sorts.
He walked out to the ex-barn, avoiding numerous cables, pieces of odd-looking equipment, and machine tools and then to the 'product' area. All the work was leading to this and it would be a lie to say he wasn't excited. He touched the cool curved surface and traced out the word inscribed there. "Stahl..." he murmured before walking slowly back to the house.
Chapter 74 - Dawn's Light
"How does it look inside?" The ex-sergeant asked when his man came out from the arm.
"Those temporary welds are in good shape and the angle is right. A few hours to reinforce and the final checks for stability and I think we are good for the rest of the repairs." He wiped the sweat from his face with a well-used handkerchief. He also had a fine coating of dust, rust and dirt from clambering inside the enclosed space.
"Good job. The copper sheets have arrived and most of the other supplies as well."
"All of it? There were some esoteric items on the list."
"Apparently the the lure of free and fast encouraged them to cooperate fully." He went over his checklist and made a new mark. The Colonel had drafted it last night and it was a marvel of completeness and efficiency.
"Can we go forward with the other items?"
"Some of them. Let's cut out the panels while the support team gets to work." He opened up a box and held up a thick pane. It was quite sturdy and cut square but they could fix that as they worked. "We are going to install exceptional long-term waterproofing so she wants us to use the same techniques we use in orb construction. With care, the Americans should only need casual annual inspections to detect any problems."
"Might be better than that, boss. We were developing a technique for bonding glass and metal before we left. As long they don't have an earthquake or another 'incident', we'll have a seal that can last a good century without problems."
"We have panes to spare, so give it a go. But if you crack more than two, use the older techniques."
"Will do." While they were talking, the other team had already begun their work inside the structure with no time wasted. He looked out over the water. "Quite an impressive gift from the Francois, eh? Both from up here or down there."
"There's nothing that can't be made better. Take ten and then back to work!"
* * *
Fliers for the concert were appearing all over the city... a bit late as the original run had been scrapped and replaced with newer ones proclaiming that the "Hero of the Harbor" was both the composer and a performer in a never-to-be-missed performance!
* * *
The performers were under strict instructions not to reveal any of the music to outsiders and, to their credit, they did their best to adhere to those guidelines. But since they spent 12 hours a day practicing it, breathing it, living it, there were some unplanned leaks.
"My word, Marge, what is that you are humming?"
"Humming, mum? I wasn't humming anything."
"Margaret Fletcher, as I stand in front of you, still on this side of the grave, you dare lie to me with that mouth?" Her mother had her fists on her hips and cross look on her face.
"I'm sorry, mum, I had no idea." She apologized immediately! Right or wrong, she had long learned this was the best way to deal with her mother.
"Well, you're forgiven. Now what was that music?" She started trilling the melody wordlessly. "La la la la la la la la la la la la la – la la!"
Marge felt a chill as she heard a rather good rendition of 'Ode to Joy' come from her mother's mouth. Shoot, this would at least get her fired. Or worse! Even in a few short days, she had a profound respect for Degurechaff... as a composer, as a singer, and as a military leader. The last thing she wanted to do was cross the diminutive woman!
"Mum, that's part of the upcoming concert. No one is supposed to know about until we perform. Keep it under your hat, okay?"
"Yes, yes, dear, you can trust your mother!"
But the infectious tune worked its magic on her as it had her daughter, even without her thinking about it. The same story was repeated a dozen times across the city, then a hundred times and soon, far too many to count.
* * *
It was two days later that Tanya heard her humming the tune, badly, when she was getting coffee at a little shop near the concert hall. In truth, she was a tiny bit annoyed but had resigned herself to the fact that it was impossible to shut the mouths of fifty people without extreme measures. Even so, it's rather remarkable how far it's gone. What did they call it? Ohrwurm. What an unpleasant name for such a beautiful piece of music.
She glanced at her watch and saw that she still had time left. Or rather, the performers were still on break. In a very continental style so rare in the Unified States, she just spent time observing the people around her. The busy crowds, all with someplace to be and apparently no time to get there were so purposeful, so insistent! In way it reminded her of modern America and Japan... this kind of energy and drive that would make one a world power and the other an economic power.
Even if it wasn't conducive to enjoying a leisurely coffee in the middle of the afternoon.
"Come to think of it, Germania is much like those two. Terrible for leisure, but ideal for commerce."
Oskar, who was sharing this time with her, raised his eyebrows. "Which two are these?"
"Oh, I was just thinking aloud." She saw the curiosity on his face. "These Americans remind me uncommonly well of our countrymen. They are purposeful to a fault and they forget to stop and smell the roses."
"What a wonderful turn of phrase! I may use it, myself."
"Feel free, it's not like I invented it." Actually, in this world, I may just have. Ah well! "This spirit will make the Unified States a pre-eminent world power someday. It's ironic that they feared Germania so much but a friendly hegemon was growing in their back yard."
"I've read some of your papers." This was a lie. He had read ALL of her papers. "You mention that if America came out against us, the war was over."
"Sooner or later, yes. Never forget this, Oskar: economic power IS military power. A factory making toasters today can make tanks tomorrow. Regardless, with the leadership we had there was little chance of another outcome. It would have been far, far better if we had lost earlier before we made the entire world our enemies!"
"That talk would have been treasonous were you still in the military."
"But we are not anymore, are we? There were so many chances to stop while we were ahead. Or even stop while we were behind. But stop nonetheless. They simply out-spent us and we were too blind to realize that our 'victories' were meaningless." She smiled grimly. "When you are gambling, and fail to step away, the house will always win in the end."
He looked troubled, but couldn't find a way to refute anything she said. Is this who she's been all along? Behind the military genius, and the business powerhouse, was a political mind as well? I saw signs of it in her writings but now it's out for the world to see. "I doubt the political office would take kindly to your assessment of them."
She snorted. "Of course not. Trash never likes being called trash to their face. But it's the duty of a diplomat to understand how the world works, yes? That means both ourselves and everyone else." She quoted, "If you know the enemy and know yourself, you need not fear the result of a hundred battles. If you know yourself but not the enemy, for every victory gained you will also suffer a defeat. If you know neither the enemy nor yourself, you will succumb in every battle. Doesn't that sound like something we've lived through?"
"It does, actually. The ratios weren't quite that bad, but close."
"I recommended that the great military philosophers of both the West and East be taught to every officer. Maybe we can make that mandatory someday."
"Are you going back into the military, then? Do you see yourself back in the thick of things?" It sounds like she's eager for another war!
"Ha? Of course not. As a diplomat, one should always strive for peace. War is a terrible waste of manpower and resources. But preparing for war is a useful expenditure. Isn't that an interesting paradox?"
* * *
Visha was meeting with the director of Zukünftige Akademie #10, formerly known as Stuttgart central orphanage. All around them, workers were revamping the property; repairing what could be fixed or tearing down what couldn't be.
The director was an middle-aged woman, and looked older than her age, having been worn down by more than just time. Though she didn't seem unhappy, she did seem a bit bewildered by the flurry of activity. "Goodness, how are you able to do all this? This must cost a fortune!"
Visha smiled and put her hand on the director's arm. "It seems impossible, doesn't it? But it's not one thing; it's a lot of smaller things that work better together. The city was willing to cede the land as long as we continued to run the orphanage. There are some minor national funds because of the war orphans allotment. TvD had already been planning a school for the children of our workers, so adding a few more children is not a major issue."
"Goodness, goodness." She blinked as an enormous amount of materiel rumbled past them. "I heard that the President was an orphan. Is that the case? Am I allowed to talk about that?"
"Yes, it's fine; she has never hidden it. She has put her own money into the orphanages as well. At least one of her albums, all the proceeds are toward support orphanages. TvD also provides some things at cost and we try to network donors with charities including for the children."
"She's much more involved that I thought. I guess it makes sense, goodness me."
"As for your part in all this..."
The director braced herself, "Yes?"
"Please stop worrying about raising money and focus on raising kids."
"Oh, oh goodness!" She teared up as a titanic weight lifted from her. She spent nearly every hour of her days trying to secure funds, repair things herself, or even beg donors for food so they could get through another meal.
"You are a fine person, but you're a much better guardian than you are a roofer, I'm afraid!"
That's when she actually broke down into tears... but happy ones!
* * *
Before Degurechaff's arrival, it had become trendy amongst New York's elite to announce they wouldn't deign to go to her concert. Worse then a nouveau riche, she was also some kind of second-hand nobility. This was before you considered her Germanian origins!
There were a week of of concert showings planned with the most expensive ones for the first night. The other tickets had sold by fits and starts for the previous weeks but the first night ones were plentiful. Both her reputation and the exorbitant prices kept people away.
But, now, the tides had shifted thoroughly and completely!
The whisperers in the wings were gone and the movers and shakers (or their servants did) rushed to get seats as soon as they could. They wouldn't be seen viewing some upstart, but a genuine hero? They couldn't NOT be seen!
That's when they got the bad news.
The producers had doubled the prices almost immediately after the explosion. This was expected and not a huge problem.
The big problem was that only a few actual concert-goers bought tickets. Speculators, sensing a windfall, had snapped up everything remaining! Teeth were gritted and money changed hands but eventually everyone who wanted to go, had the means to.
* * *
As promised, the final repairs on the The Lady were done in two days. The new copper had a forced patina applied via magic so they wouldn't stand out from the rest.
The Head of the Port Authority was beaming as if he had done the repairs himself. He had wanted to take perhaps a bit more credit but the mayor was also here so he was forced to step back a little. He had given his speech and everyone was listening to his honor with the crowds, reporters and photographers around the podium. They were there early, quite early, as the sun hadn't quite yet risen.
"...in conclusion, I'd like to thank the great country of Germania for helping us in our time of need. Without further ado, I'd like to introduce and formally welcome Ambassador Tanya von Degurechaff!"
The crowds applauded and cheered as the photos were snapped using the light of magnesium flash powder making the scene unnaturally bright but perfect for standard film.
Tanya smiled and restrained her paranoia as her vision was affected and she had unpleasant memories of the war and more dangerous explosions. It's just nerves, just nerves. My people have secured the area, there's no danger here.
She kept a tight hold of her cane, however.
"Thank you mayor Hylan. I won't waste everyone's time with a long speech. All I can say is that I'm no hero, but simply a person that did what needed to be done, what was right. As John Stuart Mill once said, 'Bad men need nothing more to compass their ends, than that good men should look on and do nothing.' When we see our fellow humans in danger, must we only look to our own safety and well being?" She caught the eye of four special guests in the first row, the three saved during the explosion and a bemused husband/father who got a free pass along with them. The kids cheered more enthusiastically than those with twice the lung power!
"The Great Lady has welcomed beleaguered people from around the world with the hope of a better life and I want her to remain to do so for many generations to come. Those that wish to harm Liberty herself need to face the united forces of those who love freedom! As your pledge says, 'one nation, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all!'"
"So that her light can reach farther, when we repaired her, we made two small changes... with the permission of Mr. Smith, of course!" There was a general laughter, a bit strained from the Port Authority head. He hadn't read the agreement very carefully so he had allowed the Germanians to do anything they wanted without limit. Fortunately, that had worked out well enough.
At her cue, a switch was thrown and all eye were drawn to the torch high above them! Each tongue of flame brightened in sequence as carefully designed circuits timed each one perfectly. When all were lit, they began to flicker in a natural way giving a startlingly impressive illusion of fire! There were gasps from the crowd and even jaded reporters were moved by the sight.
"As our friends in the Francois Republic gave you this gift, how could we do less?"
One reporter found his (mental) feet and called out, "You said two changes!"
Tanya smiled, "Ah, yes, that. To demonstrate, I believe I have two special guests here today. Amelia, Robert, would you come here?" She walked over to a commemorative plinth of stone that told of the attack and rescue that happened just a few days ago. Much to puzzlement of those who had seen it, there was a seven-pointed copper star with the imprint of a hand on it.
"Go ahead, put your hand on it and think of something amazing."
Robert, ever bold, immediately stepped up and put his smaller hand in the large handprint. He felt a slight tickling but nothing else until Amelia pointed up, "Look, look!"
All eyes returned to the Statue and they saw one, then two and finally three of the rays on her crown light up as if by magic. Exactly as if by magic! "Whoooo!" he shouted!
"Three, not bad! How about you, Amelia?"
She looked up, wishing she had her doll for comfort but her mother had made her leave it on her chair in the audience. "May I?"
"Of course... just do your best."
She hesitantly put her hand where her brother had vacated. Again, three rays lit up and then, at first hesitantly and finally with strength, a fourth one.
"Impressive! If you two want a job when you grow up, just come by my office, we'll find something for you." It helped that we had them tested surreptitiously beforehand. It wouldn't do to have magical dullards try this out as a first example!"
She went back to the podium. "I've always seen the Unified States as a place where the weak can become strong, the bound become free, and the suffering to find succor. I hope this gift will help those 'huddled masses' find a better life in their new home."
The applause, though not overwhelming, seemed quite genuine. She prepared to step down from the stage when a voice called out. "Can you treat us with a song, Ambassador?" That suggestion was taken up by the crowd with enthusiasm! Almost everyone had listened to recordings of her voice but none in person.
"Oh? I have time for one, I think. Then we must be off to practice." She appeared to ponder for a moment and then took a deep breath. "O, say can you see, by the dawn's early light..." After a moment of surprise, hats were doffed and hearts covered as they listened.
The Star-Spangled Banner was one of the most notoriously hard songs to sing. It would ruthlessly reveal every flaw in the singer's voice or technique or memory. And yet, when sung a-Capella as it was now, there were few pieces that could both move hearts and highlight the skill of the singer quite as well. She resisted the urge to embellish as so many egotistical performers had fallen to the temptation of in her past life. The simple message of the tune contrasted beautifully with the talent required to convey it well.
The slowly rising sun illuminated the Lady of the Harbor and the flag that had been raised nearby. Coming to the last lines, she increased the power of her voice and a physical shock went through the bodies of the listeners. "O, say does that star-spangled banner yet wave... O'er the land of the free, and the home of the brave?"
She had never received a longer or more heartfelt applause than she did just then. Tanya gave a small bow and stepped down. The mage in charge of recording the speech and song gave her a thumbs-up from the side and she nodded to him.
There! I've quoted their pledge of allegiance, fixed the Statue of Liberty, and even sung their future national anthem. This ambassadorship will be a piece of cake!"
Chapter 75 - Dinner, hold the wine
The day before the first showing of the concert, they did a full rehearsal from start to end, exactly as it would be performed within 24 hours. At the end, the musicians lowered their instruments and the singers stood breathing heavily. No one made a sound but, somehow, they could hear the applause of the audience to come.
Tanya had her eyes closed, savoring the final coda of Ode to Joy, performed properly for the first time in the history of the world... this world. Yes... that's it! While no Beethoven, she touched briefly on how that great composer must have felt though he couldn't hear it except inside his own head.
After letting everyone appreciate what they had done, she clapped her hands together twice to break the spell. "Well done, all. Everyone take the rest of the night off and come tomorrow well-rested and ready to make history!"
* * *
Tanya had been putting off dinner with the mayor with the excuse of concert practice but tonight, that explanation had worn off. Oskar had been in charge of all social duties in the interim but she could hardly avoid them entirely as she was the ambassador, after all.
She was not one to avoid fine food... especially on someone else's dime, but she was not in the mood for a 'political' dinner. They finally agreed on a nicer Idolan restaurant. Someplace with enough eyes to let them be seen without making a production out of it.
She had prepared, with some reluctance, an appropriate dress. Even then, she might have decided otherwise but the reproach in Mercedes's eyes stopped her. I barely know this woman and already she can dictate my wardrobe? It's comical... She would make a fine staff officer if she had had military experience. Still, she manages my hair, so that's worth a certain amount of leeway.
Someone knocked on the door and she said, "Enter!"
Petrina, her sound and communications mage, came in with a stack of notes. Before she could speak, Tanya stopped her. "Just the gist, please." The woman had an obsessive personality and LOVED detail so she had to be headed off quickly.
It was an interesting to observe the mental equivalent of a full-steam train hitting an immovable object. Fortunately, Petrina recovered quickly. "Yes President. Your speech and performance were successfully recorded and there will be a broadcast this afternoon and evening. The station has agreed to advertise the concert with the script you provided."
"Ah, good... wait, a script? I didn't give them a script."
"They liked your sample of working the broadcast information in as part of a conversation. I think they took your sample completely and just added to it."
"Ah, well, that's not a problem." If there really was a good and just god, I'd be damned for inventing adver-tainment but all we live in a very imperfect world. "Some things that seem obvious once they are spoken of are a mystery until then."
"Oh like that detective in the books by Arthur Doyle. He's always explaining things to Dr. Sacker who dismisses the deductions as trivial afterward."
"Yes, yes, of course. In this case, things that fun or interesting will attract attention. If you make history into a story, strategy and tactics into kriegsspiel, or memorization into a song you can help anyone learn because they are entertained." She smiled with a hint of satisfaction in her eye. "In this case news is mixed with music to promote curiosity about music. In the future... well, there'll be time for that later."
She stood up and her dress draped naturally into place. It was turquoise with black decorative stitching bringing out the highlights of the fabric. She hated wearing dresses but, if she must, it was going to be long enough to cover everything! The thought that some man would find her sexually attractive nauseated her and she never even considered what women might think of her.
Meche clapped her hands together and shook them. "Oh, how lovely! You'll be the talk of the town for your loveliness!"
She responded dryly, "Best they talk of my policies or my music."
"Can it not be both?" She looked toward the blonde girl's ears. "Still, it's a shame..."
"Not one more word. Anyone who comes at me trying to poke holes in my body, whether a bayonet or a needle, had better comes with at least a battalion to back them up." She sighed. "I suppose since I'm up, I'd best be off. I hope the food is worth all this tomfoolery."
* * *
After a longish journey, the three girls from the Republic stood on the dock, rather surprised at how big and busy the city was even at that latish hour. But the light from the Torch was the most amazing. As they sailed by, the beams from her crown kept lighting up, fading, and then glowing again with a different number of rays a few seconds later. Even from the dock, they could still see it illuminating the night.
Felite cocked her head to one side. "The Lady, when we sent it, it didn't glow, right?"
Isabelle rolled her eyes but Lucie said patiently, "Tanya, or her people, made some changes to her a few days ago."
"Ohhhhhhh. How pretty! We'll certainly have to ask her about that after the concert." Felite was utterly confident that they could meet with Tanya no matter the circumstances. She sighed. "I suppose we can't watch it all night."
Isabelle agreed. "It's late and we should get to the hotel before they close for the night. We also need to pick up our tickets at the box office tomorrow before the show."
Lucie said, "You mentioned there was a story about the tickets but didn't specify."
"Oh! Oh, yes. I had an agent buy them for the first showing and they were rather expensive. But just before we left the Republic, I received a rather hurried telegram offering to buy them back at ten times the price! I turned them down, of course."
The other women looked shocked. "I would say not! But still, how odd. I wonder why the prices have gone up so dramatically?"
"Maybe we lucked into a bargain?"
Isabelle scoffed. "At the prices we paid? If that's a bargain, I'm the Queen of Russy!"
"At any rate, let's go! I want a bath in a room larger than a broom closet!"
* * *
Degurechaff, conscious that she was wearing a dress, chose not to fly to her appointment. The taxi driver kept glancing at her. Gosh, I'm glad I put in that rear-view mirror... what a dame! Great body, great hair... and those eyes! She seems distracted. Maybe she's getting over some guy? The boss says that's the best time to make your move... even a frog like me has a chance with a princess.
Tanya, unaware of the hack's wild imaginings, was looking at the city. Still more horses than cars, but not for long. The city is still growing but it's already turning into a massive traffic jam. If my home country was here, I could have made a mint! Still, Germania is coming along... there are opportunities all over Europa.
I need to tie America and Germania together so that neither would ever think of fighting the other... and no one with any sense would ever think of attacking such an alliance! As a business owner, with investments in both countries, I'm well-placed to promote economic interdependence. Being the Ambassador will be a help, of course.
She smiled at the thought, wreaking havoc with the driver's imagination.
They finally arrived at the restaurant and she handed the cabbie the fare.
Okay, this is your chance! She's a tourist based on that sexy accent. He rushed around to open her door and held out his hand to help her exit the vehicle. "Ahem, miss. You know, I'm pretty familiar with the city..."
Ah, I hadn't realized that that habit had traveled to America. "Sorry, I hadn't realized."
"Ah, pardon?"
She tipped him an extra dollar... a princely sum in the current year. "Thank you for the ride." She walked into the restaurant while he stood there, dumbfounded, a crisp bill in hand.
* * *
The quester had become skilled at being unapproachable. Alleys were neither warm nor comfortable but they sent a message: There's nothing in here worth risking your life for. An old army blanket hid the figure and also covered the bindle protectively.
Apparently ignoring the message was a person, perhaps a woman. She was wearing a hooded cloak... not exactly common attire in the area. Her boots carefully stepped around puddles of water from the recent rain and piles of things less savory. She stopped a few feet away and stood quietly.
A hoarse voice greeted her. "Move on, nothin' to see here."
The woman crouched and put down a loaf of bread and a wedge of cheese, both wrapped in parchment paper. She followed them with a bottle of pop.
"I don't need your charity." The figure shifted uncomfortably under the ratty blanket, almost dislodging the hat perched on top.
"Isn't charity better than theft? Doesn't the bible say, If anyone has material possessions and sees a brother or sister in need but has no pity on them, how can the love of God be in that person? and also, Whoever sows sparingly will also reap sparingly, and whoever sows generously will also reap generously? Just think of it as doing me a favor." Still sensing some hesitation, she said, "The bread is fresh. It would be a shame if it went stale."
That did it.
As the drifter ate with big bites, quickly washed down with soda, the woman continue to speak. "I can tell you are looking for something. Is it truth? Is it wealth? Is it healing? Perhaps the Carpenter's Grail... a very popular item for those on quests."
"Justice."
The woman drew in her breath. "Ah, very popular with knights. The righting of wrongs. Protection of the innocent. Even curing those who have been afflicted. Very noble causes... very noble indeed. I am fond of heroic quests, so I'll give you some gifts."
"This isn't some fairy tale." The voice was raspy and full of contempt.
"Isn't it? I'm sorry but aren't all fairy tales just stories? And aren't all stories based on the human condition even if they didn't happen exactly like a historian would approve of?" She pulled out two pieces of wood. Too small to be called planks, too large to be chips, each would fit in the palm of a person's hand. There were markings carved on them, in a language rarely seen on these shores but the wanderer recognized them.
A dirty hand traced the lines. "These are runes but the rest..."
"The ancient Norse believed that words held power and that putting them down drew on that power." She pointed at the one on the darker-colored wood, "One is for healing, you mustn't use it on yourself." She pointed again. "The other one compels truth, you must use it on someone else."
"Those are the same."
"Are they? Ah, so be it. When you use them, compel them in the in the name of the Witches of the North." Seh rose from her crouching position. "I wish you luck, seeker."
"Luck... there's no such thing."
"Perhaps, but remember Bak skyene er himmelen alltid blå."
Before the words could register, the woman had already walked out of the alley and no amount of searching could reveal her.
* * *
Idolan cuisine was so prevalent in her old world that most people didn't even consider it foreign at all, but here it hadn't integrated into the wider society despite all immigration stretching back for years. Hmmm... I wonder if that's why French restaurants were viewed as so fancy? There wasn't a wave of poor immigrants to add their mix to the 'melting pot'.
The Matrie'd escorted her to their table where Major Hylan was already waiting. He stood politely and sat when she did. "Thank you for agreeing to eat with me tonight. It looked rather bad that the Hero of Harbor didn't receive at least a little compensation."
"Please, I didn't do it for a reward. We, I should say... I have an excellent team." But rewards are good... I wonder if he has something in mind? "Germania wants to have good relations with the Unified States. It would unconscionable for us to stand aside simply because we hadn't been injured by the accident." She paused. "Or has it been deemed an attack?"
The Mayor looked uncomfortable. "There's a top man on the way to head up the investigation. Edwin Hooper... you may have heard of him."
"J. Edwin Hooper? I've heard the name before. Is he reliable?"
"He's a hound dog when he's on the trail and a bulldog when he has his teeth in his target." He shook his head, "Beyond that, it's too new, we don't have any leads I can talk about." They paused as the waiter brought their appetizers. "But enough of such talk, there are more pleasant subjects, surely." While they chatted, Hylan was examining the ambassador and he was surprised by what he saw. I thought she was shuffled into this position just to get her out of Europa but she's sharp as a tack and attractive to boot. Makes me wish I could hire her for my administration because she smarter than almost everyone I have back in the office!
"I heard you were a rail man before you went into politics. Do you still keep your hand in?"
His face lit up. "Ah, those were the days! You can take the man out of the rail but not the rail out of the man if I can steal a phrase."
"Hmmm, I'd like your feedback for an idea we've come up with at TvD. You have a working-man's background and also have leadership experience." She took a notebook out of her clutch along with a titanium pen she used preferentially. Though she hated the necessity of the purse, she recognized the convenience of it when had no pockets.
"What we are starting to implement in Germania and parts of the Francois Republic is a standardized container system." Her pen flew across the paper from long practice. "These containers are designed to work on trains, on trucks, on ships or on docks. You can fix them to a train bed or truck trailer in minutes. By our studies, you can load or unload a ship in about eighteen hours."
"Wait, did you say hours? Not days?"
"It's no exaggeration. We've done extensive tests and it can be reproduced easily with just a little practice. The containers lock together and are waterproof, so they can be safely shipped outside of the ship's hold or stored without warehouses as they can be locked. They can also stack for more efficient storage and shipment."
John looked over the sketches, especially those of the corners, and could easily understand how the system worked. Having worked on the railway for years and being the mayor of one of the biggest ports in the world, he instantly grasped the power of the system. My God, this is revolutionary! It would take years to switch over the infrastructure but after that... If time is money, this is a gold mine! "Standardization is tough to force."
Tanya shrugged, "What force? Normally, I'd say that you'd have to get a lot of buy-in and consensus, but we are currently converting over to this system in Germania even now. What we need is one port there and one port anywhere else to show it works. Minimal investment will provide the proof of concept."
Mayor Hylan sat back while absorbing all of he had just been shown. "The time in port is 3 weeks roughly... the time across the Atlantic is less than 2 weeks. That would take the loading/unloading time and make it completely irrelevant! The only factor that matters would be shipping."
She nodded and tore the page out of her journal, folded it once and gave it to him. "What happens when New York becomes the hub for shipping for the most of the Unified States? You start with trans-Atlantic shipping and then branch out to rail and road. Even if you don't have the infrastructure in place, it's much quicker to unloaded a container than a ship. It's basically a small warehouse."
"Let's speak further on this. Soon. Do you have the full details available? And how did you come with this idea?" This will turn New York into chief destination for international shipping! Our lead would be unassailable.
"Of course." She smiled as she put away the notebook. "I've been thinking about this for years. One of my first research papers after joining the military was on logistics. It's only now that I've been able to pursue this and finally see it to fruition."
"One your first... exactly how old were you then?"
"That was so long ago... Eleven, perhaps?"
"I certainly hope you have other papers that you are able to pursue."
"Mayor, you wouldn't want to see most of those plans used. Trust me."