"I'll be honest, I came here to talk about the design of your Selene rail system in Germania but this!" Huntington waved toward the container concept. "This dwarfed my expectations. We could turn California into the hub for international commerce for the Unified States!"
Mayor Hyland cleared his throat. "I believe that honor will be going to New York, Henry!"
"Gentlemen, the Unified States has two widely-separated coasts and two other neighbors. There's plenty of room for everyone. The Asiatic market will be booming someday soon so there will be plenty of opportunities for everywhere." She tapped the diagrams. "Also, I have no intention of keeping this a secret. The full schematics, diagrams and specifications will be made public very soon. Those with foresight will adopt the system and the rest, well, they'll probably live to regret their decisions."
Henry smiled, "But their companies won't. Would you object to me having those details a little earlier?"
"Not at all. As I said, this will be no secret." If his competitors think he's getting a special advantage, they may pound down the doors to join the party. "It sounded like you were also interested in our new rail technology."
"Of course... it sounds like you have revolutionized rail travel in Germania and I'm always looking for ways to improve our product."
"That's very forward-thinking considering you have an unofficial monopoly in the west. In a few decades, American travel will be dominated by cars and air and only bold actions can hold that off."
The older man looked startled. "You are rather boldly predicting the death of my industry when I want to be your partner."
She shrugged. "Facts are facts. Commercial rail, as long as it's handled smartly, has a good century of life left in it. But passenger rail? Not so much. Not here."
Helen asked curiously, "Not here?"
"Americans love their freedom, open spaces, horizons to ride toward." She smiled knowingly. "It's one of your best qualities. Motorcycles are the modern horses. Cars will be the new covered wagons for people looking for a better life. Even more so, they'll want their own land, their slice of the American Dream. Cars will let people live where they want even if it's not near their work. Or it will allow them to move between jobs without moving their residence."
All four of her listeners were surprised, though for different reasons. Helen, for one, could feel her confidence but it seemed like the confidence of knowledge rather than belief. She looked at the diagrams and there was as solidity to them. Rather than being pulled from fanciful ideas, no matter how inspired, they seemed to be a drawing of real objects. Does she have the sight? She's powerful enough but her aspects were quite different... so where does this certainty come from? I might have to 'test' her again. She licked her lips unconsciously which caused Tanya to lose her train of thought for several seconds.
The men found her words no less persuasive. The mayor and Huntington were familiar with logistics and could picture the advantages of the system while Robert could smell the money to be made. The fact that such high-profile players were in favor had convinced him long ago.
Henry sighed and said, "It's a pity you can't start on the West Coast rather than here."
Tanya shrugged but didn't seem concerned. "Did the first transcontinental railroad meet in the middle? My only issue is trying to get the northeast rail on board with the plan."
He grinned wickedly making him look less like a genial grandfather and more like Mephistopheles. "Why get them on board? When the rails consolidated, there was a lot of redundant lines that are moribund now. Since you are planning to rework the lines in the likeness of your Selene line, you can snap up their set-asides and land grants for next to nothing and just push your way to the Mississippi."
"Hmmm... I like that idea. But it'll be tough to get that past the regulators who I assume have already been paid well by the current operators."
"Don't worry, I know where the bodies are buried. I'd do it myself but the anti-monopolists have sharp daggers and would stop me immediately. But a new player buying 'bad' iron? They won't even blink on the assumption there's no way you could do anything with the rights but we'll fox 'em."
Hylan nodded. "Don't worry about New York state. I may just be a 'small town mayor' but I have enough pull to get you Pennsylvania. We'll avoid New Jersey, for now, but drive through Columbus, Indianapolis and then Springfield."
Degurechaff disagreed immediately. "I want it to hit Chicago next. That will be the hub of the midwest and I need it in my backyard."
"Chicago is a harder nut to crack. The union leaders and management are thick as thieves and they control everything."
She nodded. If the US had entered the war, it would have been the government cracking down and wildcat strikes everywhere. Should I be happy we lost quickly enough to avoid that? "That's not a problem, that helps us out. Combining unused tracks and underpaid workers sounds like an easy mix, right?"
Huntington sat back in his chair in thought. "There's a lot of rough fellas there, and they aren't likely to play fair."
Tanya suddenly laughed out loud, a sound that surprised or shocked everyone around her! "Henry, I know I seem like an affable young business... woman... but you might recall that I used to be the most feared mage in the entire world." She smiled widely and the room felt chillier as they looked at her. "If those hooligans have forgotten that, I'll just have to remind them."
* * *
After the rather successful tour of the New York music scene, Tanya and her team set our for Chicago at last. After riding on Selene rails, the noise and shaking of this railroad was like stepping back a generation. Still, they had two cars to themselves for the entire route so she determined to tolerate it without complaint.
She'd be replacing it all soon enough anyway.
Since she had introduced the world to 'Ode to Joy', she had accomplished her goals for New York and needed to make up for lost time. She had cut out most of the stops she had intended along the way. It was a bit regrettable from a diplomatic point of view but her concerts had done far more than a few speeches and handshakes and she was eager to get 'home'.
A double-header on the rail plan and bi-coastal push for the containerized shipping will work nicely. Any holdouts in Europa will be afraid of missing the American boat. I thought it might take ten years but now... maybe seven before it has general acceptance. But coast to coast five tops. She made notes on a map of the US in a fashion that would give a cartographer conniptions.
Tanya went through a LOT of maps when planning.
Ella was assisting her while Felite served snacks and coffee. When the President was off on her speculative imaginings, it was very hard to follow what she was doing even with explanations. Sigh. I'm supposed to be helping and I can barely follow her thoughts even with a primer and extensive notes! Let's try again and maybe I'll get further this time. She waited until Tanya sat back and took a sip of coffee while examining the map.
"Why the emphasis on these containers?"
"Eh? Well, I can give you the simple explanation. You are familiar with my history, yes? My first concept paper revolved around logistics." She smiled as she reminisced. "I thought that document would put me in the shipping department at the time."
"Really?! That didn't work out, did it?" She covered her mouth when she realized how critical she sounded. "Oh, I'm sorry!"
"Don't be. I survived, didn't I? It was very, very, very close at times and I would never want to do it again but it's done now. But my container plan was to be a second paper to follow the first. Somewhat delayed by the Great War," she added wryly. "The first paper was about the philosophy of logistics. How to organize what you do, how much inventory to stockpile, how to manage supply chains. What containers do is make everything easier. Let me ask you, if you could only buy flour by the barrel, how would that inconvenience you?"
"Goodness! Well, you'd be paying more. And you'd have to keep the barrel somewhere in your house. The flour might go bad, too."
Tanya nodded. "Exactly. That's how all business works these days. With these containers, and knowing you can get a shipment cheaper and quickly, you can keep just the proper amount of inventory or supplies on hand. You can also purchase from anywhere in the world and get the best deal."
"So instead of a barrel, I can just get a few pounds?"
She shook her head, "It will be the equivalent of holding out your hand and just getting the exact amount you need immediately... at half price."
"That sounds like a miracle."
"Nothing of the sort! Just good sense. A business is like a horse and excessive inventory is a weight on its back. It becomes hard to maneuver and eventually it'll stop moving altogether. A smart enterprise needs to be nimble as things can change at any second."
Ella said slowly, "So inventory is a problem... not an asset?"
"Exactly." She held put a hand on her coffee cup and Felite filled it up after a few seconds. The maid had been listening to the lecture intently enough that she forgot her job briefly.
"Oh, oh! I think I know it now. Like the, the, how-you-say faucet in a house. You turn it on when needful but only then." Her Germanian was the worst of the four maids, but she was trying hard.
Tanya smiled and gave a little round of applause. "That's a smarter analogy... I think I'll use that in the future."
Felite blushed at the praise. "Ce n'est rien."
"Ce n'est pas rien. Keep learning and commenting, Felite."
Eeee! I got praised! I want that to happen again! Wait, I got praised for being smart. What should I do now?! Felite spent the rest of the night very conflicted...
* * *
Anluk was going through the calibration exercise in Stahl 1. The 10-feet tall 'armor' moved smoothly through the exercises like he was wearing a second skin. The amount of mass he could move far exceeded what a standard mage could move even though his magical capacity was somewhat below average.
Below average for the 203rd, though! He was actually comparable to most other combat mages. But in this area, he far exceeded his peers.
Afterwards, they went into live tests, both maneuverability and combat responsiveness. Anluk simply ignored small-arms and rifle fire and only activated his shields for mage-enhanced rounds. Rather than a classic mage shield, he was using the technique of strengthening the metal itself. The observers, even the ones who had worked on it and knew its capabilities, were shocked at its efficiency.
After the run, the front of the armor split open, showing a cool and collected pilot. But his smile went from ear to ear. He floated out using his personal orb and over to the researchers and engineers.
"We have the data but tell us your personal reactions."
"The specialized orbs mounted in the armor worked superbly. They were more energy efficient and stronger overall. My instinct is that it could take at least twice the damage of a mage shield at the high end and use almost no energy at the low end."
"How about flight? You did the basic test but not the stretch ones."
Anluk shook his head. "The weight is still too much. Oh, I can move it, but lifting it through the air takes too much energy for long flights. Short bursts aren't too bad. On the other hand, walking and running barely took more energy than if I was out of the suit."
"The wheels were a no-go?"
"As long as I was moving like I was just wearing a suit of clothes, the humanoid-boost functioned fine. But when I went to wheeled mode, I lost that immediately."
The head researcher nodded. "We thought that might be the case. Your magic 'image' is a bipedal one and you reap additional energy due to that. Or rather, you are bypassing losses that most mages suffer. Combining that with your affinity for moving metal, that might make the most efficient platform for your abilities." He looked over his notes. "Your running rate is over forty miles an hour and marching at over 15 mph. All told, you are basically a super-maneuverable tank."
They expected Anluk to be pleased with this assessment but he was unexpectedly melancholy.
"Is there something wrong?"
"I was just thinking... if we had had these in Arene, could we have changed the outcome?"
He put his hand on the ex-soldier's shoulder. "You did what you could, my friend. And isn't this why we are working here today? To prevent tragedies like that in the future? Come and share your experience with the other trainees and help them get acclimated to the Stahls." He grinned. "So many of them looked beaten down when they arrived, by the world, by their crippling injuries, it'll do you good to see how cheerful they are now!"
Chapter 81 - Knights
The traveling preacher looked at the crowd with eyes that sported a touch of weariness. Good times for the country were rather bad for him because people sought salvation in adversity. The Unified States were doing well and even the most experienced people, unconsciously, made the assumption that good times would continue forever. Still, he soldiered on and continued his sermon.
"But, brothers and sisters, do NOT let your eyes deceive you for the greatest LIAR is Satan and he hides his schemes in plain sight! Don't let a shiny wrapper pull you in and don't let a layer of dust cause you to look away."
"When crops are good, put some grain aside for the lean times. When the drought comes, take care and pray for God's healing rain to bless the Earth. And it will come. For there are two things that are eternal and that's change and the sweet mercy of the Almighty!"
He held up his well-worn bible. "Don't just look at the cover, my friends; you have to open the Book and see what's inside. Our Savior walked on his two feet like a common beggar while fancy nobles rode fine horses. But aren't they the princes of dust while He is the King of Heaven?"
He pointed at the gathered masses. "Open your eyes! There is no easier prey for the First Serpent than those who refuse to see! Remember what Jesus said, 'If you abide in my word, you are truly my disciples, and you will know the truth and the TRUTH will set you FREE!'"
After his sermon, his assistant was tallying up their take while he sat tiredly on a rickety seat wiping his face with a well-used handkerchief. Someone handed him a tin cup with water in it and said, "You seem tired, Father."
He chuckled. "Punching Satan is tiring work young... lady. And please call me Brother Sam, Father is too high a title for me." At the last second, he recognized the lean and scruffy person as a young woman rather than a short teenager. "I appreciate the drink, though."
"Do you believe what you said? About evil?" She had a strange intensity and looked drawn taut like an ascetic who had walked in from the desert.
"Of course, child." He waved her to a nearby chair which she refused t o sit in. "You think Satan, the Prince of Lies, will walk in with a red calling card with his name on it? Or our savior will descend from on high with a choir of angels to announce his arrival?" He sat back causing the chair to creak alarmingly. "No, nothing in the world comes easy, not your daily dollar, not your eternal salvation and certainly not the Truth."
She almost sneered, "You think people are so good? That if they know the 'truth', they will do the right thing all the time?" Her eyes were focus, accusing.
He sighed and shook his head. "That would be foolish of me, wouldn't it? The blessed Adam and Eve, who personally knew the Almighty in the Garden of Eden knew they were doing wrong and yet they did it." Brother Sam looked at her solemnly. "But I believe that without the Word and without the Truth, we are all lost no matter how much we think we know. And I do believe that most of us would choose rightness"
He turned to put the empty cup on a table behind him but when he turned back, she was gone.
* * *
Tanya's arrival in Chicago was without fanfare and they had an event planned later to formally introduce her to the movers and shakers of the are. For now, though, she just wanted to settle into her new home and be done with traveling for awhile.
"You seem excited to see the consulate, ma'am!" Isabelle was seated closest to her on the vehicle. They had chosen a moderate-sized touring bus that could hold eight people and their luggage. The first vehicle was just Tanya, the maid, and six combat-capable mages. They were arranged in pairs to make it look like it was four couples on vacation. I'm too vulnerable moving around! "The concerts and travel were nice but it's too hard to get work done. In a few months, I may get restless but, for now, let's get settled in and do our jobs."
"It seems more than that, though?"
"I must admit that I want to SEE it with my own eyes. Reports are nice and I had a hand in making the plans but it's not the same, after all."
"Oh, you also worked on that?"
"Just in general. The layout of the buildings, plans for the streets, the design of a few structures and so on."
The maid blinked. This is just 'in general'? Isn't that like being the chief architect instead? "I'm sure if they followed your guidelines, all will be well."
"It needs to be. In many ways, this consulate will be the face of Germania to the rest of the world." She gestured somewhat helplessly. "To most everyone, we are the monster of the Great War, the cause of millions of deaths, the bogeyman under the bed! As they say, the victors write the history books. Had we won, the monster would have been Legadonia or the Republic, eh?"
Isabelle tried to imagine if the Francois Republic were the enemy hated by all, feared by all even in defeat. It was a profoundly unpleasant sensation and she shivered as if to drive off the cold feeling that took hold of her. "So what will the 'face' look like then?"
She just smiled. "I'd like to see your reaction when we arrive without preconceived notions."
* * *
A small box was pried from bloody hands by another pair of equally bloody hands though, it must be said, rather more lively. The dead man's room was lit by only a dim bulb that was wholly insufficient to illuminate and, moreover, concealed things in the shadows it created. Rather than opening the box, or bringing it out into the dingy light, the new owner shoved it into a leather satchel.
With hurried motions the blood was washed off with rusty water from a sputtering spigot over an equally dirty sink. A furtive attempt to get blood out of a ragged jacket was less successful and eventually abandoned.
This was the seventeenth time the contents of the box had found a new owner.
Fourteen of them were now dead.
It would be fifteen by dawn.
* * *
Oskar (former Prince, current assistant ambassador, sometimes sous chef) was going down an amazing checklist of things to be completed both before Tanya arrived and before the full opening of the Consulate. "I wonder how other ambassadors open their embassies? I imagine it's more like calling on the local dignitaries and, perhaps, picking out new drapes."
Wilson noted, "To be fair, sir, you've done both of those things."
The beleaguered man looked at his loyal batman with tired eyes. "Ah, what would I do without you, Wilson?"
"You would, undoubtedly, have unpressed pants and significantly duller shoes, sir." Despite his comment, much like his superior, he was serving beyond his usual duties. Nearly half of the decisions made in the consulate went through Wilson for review. In this, though, only traditional consulate 'business' went by him. The greater consulate grounds were handled by dozens of other people like a major corporation with multiple departments all working seamlessly together.
In fact, he began to suspect that 'mundane' tasks were being funneled to Oskar to keep him occupied. Idle hands are the Devil's playground? I don't know if they have that attitude and there's no malice in it. When Degurechaff arrives, we'll know better their true attitude to her 'second in command'.
"We'll need those shoes and pants soon, I fear. This investigator will be arriving shortly after our esteemed leader."
"Would that be Mr. Hooper, sir?"
"That's the one. While I'm glad the Americans are taking this attack seriously, it's hard to know the quality of who they send and whether he's just a spy disguised as an investigator." He smirked and laughed. "It will be quite interesting if he really IS a spy as we have literally nothing to hide! Can you imagine the frustration of a spy trying to be discreet looking for something that doesn't exist?"
"Quite amusing sir." He glanced out the window as the exoskeleton suited mages were finishing construction at a record pace. "I look forward to his visit and his meetings with the Ambassador."
* * *
General Rerugen, per his new orders, saved matters involving Degurechaff until the end of the day. Any news about her, good or bad, tended to throw his schedule into disarray and made it impossible to get work done sometimes. Other than literal armed attacks (which happened surprisingly often in a 'post war' period), he insisted on having a peaceful work day.
This, sometimes, made his assistants very nervous as now they were the gatekeepers of information on White Silver and forced to worry about it while their boss could remain blissfully ignorant for ten hours.
The clock struck six and the general put away the work he was working on to take it up again tomorrow. He finally turned to his adjutant and said mildly. "Tell me."
"Yes sir! Her Stahlmensch project is going well. She has requested that every crippled soldier with even moderate magical talent be fitted for artificial limbs. Even those with nerve and spinal damage are showing positive results."
"Orb powered, of course. What's she going to charge?"
"All the amounts are in gold equivalent but she says she will provide them at cost to any veteran. She'll also sell them to the Army at standard rates but TvD says they are open to providing the lower rate if soldiers are not cashiered and remain in the military."
He steepled his fingers in thought. Quite the clever move, Degurechaff. You are putting the Army in a bind by providing this remedy to the government but offering the less expensive rate only if the soldiers aren't forcibly retired. Of course, with this, they really aren't disabled and can at least function normally in a wide variety of roles.
"Well, I foresee another expenditure from our coffers but not an entirely unwelcome one. The 'at cost' rates are quite reasonable and I think we can even manage to provide them to recently retired with enough ameliorative care to let them at least walk and function normally." He cleaned his glasses with a special cloth. "How a nation treats its veterans is very often an indication of the fate of that country. History has taught this lesson time and again and it behooves us to be diligent students."
"Yes sir. We also have advanced reports on the Uberstahl project."
"Uber?" He put his glasses back on... he hadn't heard about this one yet.
"A combination of Stahlmensch and another program. The other one has been in progress for awhile on the railroads among other things. TvD has posited, and proven, that magic ability is not linear but is instead multi-faceted. She recruited a lot of mages who were marginal by traditional standards but were good at moving metal to help lay rail and remove landmines and so on. Apparently there is a multiplicative effect when you make a... one second sir, let me find what they called it." He shuffled through the papers and cleared his throat, "An armored exoskeleton. When properly designed, they said an order-of-magnitude improvement is seen."
Though not a mage, Rerugen had a thorough understanding of their capabilities... to do less would be rank ignorance for one of his rank! With what her railroad mages can lift, times ten, assign some mass to armor and that leaves... "I don't suppose she listed the potential of the device?"
"They emphasized how much mass can be lifted, the average speed and so on. With these stats, a proper user will become like a bulldozer or other construction machine."
Bulldozer? No, they are equivalent to walking tanks! It removes two of the few weaknesses of mages by not trying to lift them into the air. If we had a few battalions of these in the War, our casualties would have plummeted. Wait, what am I thinking... why is she making them now? All these specifications and listed uses are for peaceful purposes. But they could be easily repurposed for combat. He stopped that line of thought and said slowly, "They don't seem hard to make as the materials are not very exotic. With inexpensive orbs and trained personnel, you could make legions of these."
"Where would all the personnel come from, General?"
Dummkopf! he swore to himself. "How often have I told you that you must never take what Degurechaff does at face value? All those crippled mages and veterans. When they are using their leg and arm replacements, they are already teaching themselves to use these Uberstahl suits. They would be part of our rosters as NON-combat personnel due to their injuries, but perhaps be the most effective fighting force we have with almost no training required. No, she knows we would immediately see the combat potential of these projects and exactly how to hide it!"
His adjutant looked startled. "I, I see what you are saying. So all those railroads..."
"Just a way to identify appropriate mages that can handle metal."
"And the steep discounts for army mages is so that as many of these suits can be put into the hands of combat troops, even cashiered ones, as quickly as possible." He looked amazed. "How much vision does she have? She's barely left the army and she is still trying to defend the Fatherland."
"Defend the Fatherland? I suppose so." Or take over the world!
Chapter 82 - Alexandre Gustave Etcetera
After all the planning and building and sweat, Tanya still expected the new consulate grounds to be a bit... anti-climactic. After all, she was the architect and head designer. The vision should be HER vision made life. So, because of that, it couldn't really surprise her.
But...
It was so much better than that!
For security purposes, she had planned a tall wall (made taller and thicker in response to the attacks). But she had left the builders a suggestion they took as a mandate: "Make everything attractive as well as functional. Instead of a boring, bare wall, you can make it like a castle wall with landscaping. We are inviting people to our home, the entrance should reflect that."
On the road leading to consulate wall, there was well-manicured clover lawn with seasonal flowers and attractive shrubbery. Unlike the other streets, this one had been repaved at their expense and was notably smoother and better maintained. The 'gate' itself was wide enough for a four-lane road, but each side had a decorative metal 'fence' more designed to reveal than conceal what was inside. Atop all of this was an impressively ornate metal sign coated in a silvery chrome saying "Tanyaland, the Happiest Place on Earth!"
Tanya stared at the sign (as did they all). The others from awe and she from the sheer shock of it. What is going on with that sign! I never authorized... wait. Was it from THAT conversation? What did I tell him... She thought back quickly and realized her exact words: Make sure they know the consulate is my territory but also welcoming. We also need to impress them as soon as they come in. If other places are big, we'll be bigger. If other places are new, we'll be newer. And if other places are happy, we'll be the happiest place on Earth!
They had spoken in Germanian and the designer's grasp of it was good but not perfect. He had taken copious notes and this was the result! I knew I should have spoken in Francois but damn his Gallic pride! Gustav said he was fluent in Anglish and insisted!
Isabelle's eyes sparkled and her mouth was half hung open as she looked up at the archway. "So amazing, but what's that structure in the distance?!"
"Ah, that. Well, I hired a famous architect and basically gave him unlimited funds and told him to impress the world. Given the power of our metal mages, they were able to put this up in just a few months."
"That?! In just a few months?!"
"Well, Monsieur Eiffel was quite motivated. He was originally scheduled to put up a monument at the World's Fair but that got canceled for... various reasons. Still, it's quite the showpiece, eh?" There's nothing like a frustrated artist who can finally share their art. If I had had more time, I'd make a building like that Tokyo theme park. Since they originally copied it from the Schloss Neuschwanstein in the Germanian Alps, it will be like it coming home... in a manner of speaking. Well, maybe next time.
"What are those wide paved areas over there for?" asked one of the mages. He was experienced in combat and it seemed unnecessary for either defense or decoration.
"That's for our future visitors. Inside the compound, only consulate vehicles are allowed. There's a special delivery entrance around the side where deliveries are inspected and dropped off and exports are handled." This will keep polluting vehicles and horses from stinking up the place. It will stop drunk drivers from doing anything stupid inside the walls and otherwise stupid drivers from clogging the place up.
"Ah! That makes sense, I should have realized." She's controlling the perimeter, keeping out undesirables, limiting the amount of ordinance they might sneak in. What excellent strategy!
They all exited the touring bus in the drop-off area and consulate staff rushed to transfer the luggage to an official vehicle. She told a few of the mages to take their possessions to the consulate headquarters and gave the others leave to explore. Seeing the crestfallen faces of the 'luggage' handlers, she just laughed. "It will only take a few minutes! There's plenty of time to explore."
"Ma'am!" They scattered, leaving Tanya and Isabelle to walk leisurely through the streets.
If Isabelle was surprised by the exterior, she was shocked by the interior. She had never seen a cleaner, more beautiful city in her life. The stink of manure, petrol exhaust and, yes, human waste was entirely absent. In her mind, that WAS the smell of cities, only sometimes kept under control by stringent cleaning and perhaps a strong rainstorm. Trees lined the boulevards and many windows sported flowers on their sills.
"Whaaaaaa!" Unable to stick to Germanian, Isabelle lapsed back into Francois to express herself. "This is so pretty! So clean! So nice!"
Tanya had to admit that it was even better than she had imagined. Then again, she had had the experience of a world that had taken amusement parks to a high level. "The consulate was designed for foot traffic almost entirely. You are supposed to wander around and experience it. Of course, there are areas that are focused more on commerce off to one side. It's not quite as fancy as all this but still quite nice." She pointed in one direction from her memory of the map as she had never been their either. "The breweries, worker housing, the hospital, school, fire station and so on are in that direction. This area is to pull people further in so they don't spend all their time milling around the entrance so it encourages exploration. The only exception is that the two biggest hotels are right near this entrance so people can get settled in as soon as possible."
"This... is about as far from a consulate as I can possibly imagine."
"My assistant ambassador said much the same thing." More than once! "But as should be obvious, this is not just a consulate. Oh, in ever official sense it will be. And the embassy and other consulates will serve that purpose as well, but each will also be a self-sustaining financial hub in the future."
"With the only source of alcohol or wine in the country, that should be easy!" She laughed musically, almost matching the trilling of the birds nearby.
I wonder if she's had vocal training? I might need to recruit her for performances. "The Temperance Amendment was convenient but it would have worked the same even without it. Just longer and with more difficulties. If our plans required that, they were flawed ab initio." She smiled and there was a wicked glint in her eyes that vanished quickly. "All the future consulates really are just branches of TvD and we are going to graciously do consulate work on the side. In a generation, maybe much less, we'll be considered as American as baseball and apple pie and the very thought of going to war with us will be viewed as crazy."
Oh, I see! She's doing what she did in the Republic! She just seems like she is making money, entertaining people, but she's really just displaying the best that Germania has to offer in the most international language of all: cuisine! People who sit at the same table to share a meal aren't shooting each other. How marvelous! She replied, humbled by the magnificent vision of peace, "I hope I can see that dream come about."
Tanya blinked, "Of course you will." We are going to make so much money!
* * *
Major Hawthorne scowled at the milk on his desk. He was willing to break federal law and find some whiskey but feared the wrath of his physician more than federal agents. Still, dealing with Degurechaff was about to literally drive him to drink! He swallowed the prescribed tonic and followed it with the milk to wash down the awful-tasting mixture.
His current headache (or stomach ache) was laid out on his desk in photographic form, both covert and public.
Not that there was much need for secrecy as that damnable tower was the tallest structure on the planet! It was over 1000 ft and could be seen from the entire city! They even lit it up at night to make sure airplanes and dirigibles didn't accidentally hit it!
Another source of displeasure was that his so-called spies didn't even have as good info on the damnable thing as TvD's own press releases that were advertising the opening of the consulate! They bragged about its height (given to the inch), the amount of steel in its construction, the virtues of the architect and so on. Even more annoyingly, his own intelligence people were using the aerial photographs from the advertisements in place of their own research as they were frequently more accurate.
The only bright part was that one of his subordinates, Corporal Smith, was able to get him accurate intel after only a bit of delay. The costs were sometimes a bit high but sometimes accurate intel was expensive. God help me, I'm paying for intel about things happening on American soil! Well, technically Germanian soil, damitall.
"Corporal!"
"Yessir!" The nervous corporal shot to attention. He looked enviously at the empty glass of milk and medicine bottle. He wasn't sure if simply paying for blueprints and photographs was treasonous or not. He wasn't pocketing any of the money! And the information was of the highest quality!
"Can you tell me how this... thing... was built without us knowing about it?"
"It was listed as a park observation tower and most of the structural elements were made in the factory making the rest of the steelwork for the rest of the consulate." He struggled to explain when he had barely comprehended it himself until his 'contact' just explained it to him. She was an attractive woman named Gisela who was perfectly happy to tell him what he needed but insisted on a 'service fee' for the information.
She even insisted on giving him a receipt each time.
"It's built like an Erector Set, sir. While they were preparing the foundations, they were also making the structural members in a large factory so that they could just move out the pieces as soon as they were done and then bolt or weld them into place. Nothing was fabricated on site so all they needed to was move it in, set it up and connect it." He was still amazed as he had just barely managed to see the final stage being hoisted into place. "Their use of mages is unheard of. The orbs they are employing lack offensive capabilities and instead are specialized in just moving materiel around."
The Major growled, "We've tried that without seeing the results they have."
"I have my latest report here and it might throw light on that. It was a bit expensive to acquire the intel but it lays out their whole program." The costs keep going up... maybe he'll tell me to stop?
Hawthorne's eyes lit up. "Let me see it, man!" He took the folder and scanned it while Smith summarized. "They are apparently recruiting mages that are, for a lack of a better word, talented in that area. It's not a technological edge, it's a matter of personnel and training."
The Major sat back in his chair as he absorbed this information. "This matches reports from the War. She has always been fond of making utter use of her soldiers, workers now. Yes, this is important! I'm sending this straight up the chain. Excellent job, Corporal. Or should I say Sergeant? Keep up the good work, I expect to see more info like in the future." He signed off on the expense report without even looking at it.
"Yessir." Please, God, no!
* * *
Professurs Wagner and Heidl were meeting in the latter's office for two reasons: Wagner, now retired, had given up his office space even though they had begged him to continue his private studies at the University; the second reason was Robert's research was here and they could discuss it in more depth with the source material available.
The third, unspoken, reason was that Wagner suspected that he was being spied upon and he trusted whatever arrangements his friend could manage to forestall such invasions of privacy.
Robert was pointing at the charts which were cryptic even to those with sufficient experience and mathematical skill but were hopeless obtuse to anyone else. "An economy can take blows... in fact such things are actually commonplace and healthy. An unchanging economy is a sign of one that has become hopeless entrenched in one way of doing things and will shatter like a wineglass dropped onto a marble floor."
"An unpleasant image... when one remembers that it's an entire nation you are referring to. It's even more unpleasant when it's your nation in question!"
Heidl nodded. "But even a healthy economy has its limits. A good thumbnail number is 80%. Anytime a system is pushed past 80%, things start to break down and issues that are easily handled below that point balloon out of control." He sighed and waved at the morass of data. "But you can look at it from the other side. When something takes away that reserve it, by necessity, means that the system is pushed closer to the brink. If you lose 10% of your original total strength then the 'old' 80% is now the 'new' 89%."
"So if the greater the absolute loss, the more it pushes you into danger."
"Exactly! Now the interesting thing is, by our estimates, we are ALREADY down by at least 25% which means, if our theories are correct, we should be living with catastrophe."
He sucked in his breath. "When?"
"When? Why, right now? But the curious thing is that we are NOT collapsing or even suffering outrageous privations. Oh, things are bad, but the social structures are still strong, we are mostly fed even if not as well as a decade ago."
Wagner frowned. "You wouldn't bring me here to explain why everything is an illusion, naturally. Is it Degurechaff?"
"Ha ha! Yes! Remember how I discussed how she was slowly taking over the economy? As it turns out it there are two effects that weren't evident before. One is that her 'portion' of the economy acts like a crutch for the rest. By volume, it's only 5%, roughly, but it's the 5% where it's most needed since she focuses on moribund properties." He smiled now, "If one wanted to be poetic, if a bit grotesque, she's like Shelley's Dr. Frankenstein, bringing the dead back to life."
"From my studies, that's what I've been seeing; although from a sociological point of view. She pays no attention to what a person was, on what they can be. It's a transformative change, not just an allocative one." His grin now matched his old friend's. "I'll take your poetry and raise you one more. It's like an alchemist making gold from lead. What's the second effect?"
"Oh! Yes, that one is even more exciting! Those businesses in the old economy that interact with hers on any level either evolve to match how she does things, though a bit less efficiently, or..."
"Or?"
He shrugged, "Or she drives them out of business and takes them over. I haven't seen any other conclusion."
"That seems rather brutal. She doesn't seem like the type, despite the rumors about her. I know what she's like as much as an outsider can be sure."
"It doesn't have to be purposeful. When a more efficient predator enters the fight... the mangy old wolves can evolve or die out." He waved at the charts. "Right now, the Fatherland not only can't function without her, the government can't even antagonize her! If they drove her off..."
"It would be like kicking that sturdy crutch away."
"And then shooting the cripple. At best."
Chapter 83 - Rodin's Apprentice
Serebryakov was handling issues with an aplomb of a senior executive with decades more experience. Issues came in, were dealt with, and were on their way in barely the time it took for the paper to settle on her desk.
This was only for most issues, however.
On one wall were issues that were to be handled in the future. Some by her. Some by others. But mostly by Degurechaff herself. Visha's assistant was looking over them because additional input was welcome and someone might bring a fresh perspective to the situation. "Vice President... we've extended the rail line through Arene. Why is this issue still on the board?"
"Ah, that. Even now, the subject of Arene is still sensitive to the Francois. The President said she'll handle this one herself but there are some tasks related to that have been delegated." She pointed to a line of text. "See, we have already started."
"The rail is complete, the remediation of the landscape is done, the Francois government has given us permission to rebuild the town... It seems this project is well on its way, ma'am."
"The easy tasks only. And that 'permission' came with the cost of doing the repairs. Still, they eventually gave their permission and that's the important thing."
She nodded, "It must seem like a bargain to them. I guess even outraged passions gave way to money in the end."
Visha smiled. "That was one of the clever parts of the negotiations, actually! That 'concession' cost much less than what we got: the permanent right to run the rail station through there and a significant portion of destroyed landscape." She shook her heads slowly and sadly, remembering that day. "The artillery started, and the fires finished, the destruction of the city. In the end, there were only the hollowed shells of buildings left, shattered and covered with soot. Even years later, there had been no progress on rebuilding."
"B-but why? They had the funds and they certainly had the time."
"My understanding is having a 'ruined city' was to make themselves seem more the victim during the trials. Afterwards, with no rail and no industry, there was little drive to return. The survivors had become vagabonds because it was useful to the government."
"How horrible! Will they be allowed to return when we are done?"
"I assume so? Our contract says we just have to clear the land to make it habitable again, not what happens with it afterward." She glanced at the clock. "Ah, coincidentally, I have one of the 'hard' parts of that project to work on today. Wish me luck!" She stood and put on stylish coat to ward off the coming winter's chill.
Her assistant looked puzzled prompting Visha to answer the unasked question. "Harder because artistic types can be a challenge. I don't expect to be in any danger!"
* * *
Visha had chosen a quiet cafe with an impressive fireplace for the meeting. She spotted a middle-aged woman sitting near a window table and easily recognized her for the person she was to meet; Visha, after all, had provided her with the clothing she now wore and had shipped to her in Francois.
"Mlle Claudel?" Serebryakov spoke in passable Francois gained over her time with the Argent and through near-continuous business dealings with the Republic.
The woman turned and smiled briefly. "Please, it's just Camille. After all, are you not my benefactor?"
She sat down and gently disagreed. "What we did was minor. President Degurechaff is a follower of your work and heard of your plight. As it turns out, we were in negotiations with Francois and also needed a sculptor."
"Not so minor! My brother must have objected strongly to my release from prison. Or, should I say, from the 'hospital'." She sighed. "I cannot fault Montdevergues, to be fair. The doctors were kind, provided me what they could to support my art with a limited budget and tried for years to have me released against his continued objections. I was just so much more convenient hidden away rather than getting in the way of his career. The 'crazy sister' that he rarely spoke of." She sipped the tea that had just been served while in thought that Visha did not interrupt. "Do you know, he only speaks of me in the past tense? Not just 'gone' as far as he was concerned but 'dead and gone'."
Visha said kindly, "You don't need to talk about such things."
The older woman shook her head and said, "No, no I must. I've already agreed to this Great Work but you should know me before we begin, no?" She cleared her throat and thought back, as if summarizing her memories. "I am prone to bouts of anger for I have been betrayed by everyone in my life who was even remotely close to me. My mother despised that I wasn't born male, as she repeatedly told me. My sister is a jealous witch who wanted – and stole – my inheritance. My brother is embarrassed by his 'unladylike' sister who offended his career and faith. My mentor... my lover... Rodin cast me aside when my art clashed with his leaving no path for a woman artist to work."
"And... your father?"
Camille looked forlorn. "His was the worst betrayal of all. He died when I needed him most, my one rock of stability to build my life on. He loved me and supported me like no other. My family did not even tell me when he passed but my brother had me committed only a week after his demise. In seven years, my brother only visited me twice and the rest... not at all. Tell me, would this not also make you angry?"
"We've dealt with anger and pain before... and the injustice inflicted by those with power." She patted the woman's hand.
She sniffed back tears. "Now that I've bared my soul, I have to ask 'Why me?'"
"Ah, that. The President read of your plight while she was imprisoned in Paree and decided that, if she had a chance, she would secure your freedom. She sent her apologies that it took as long as it did but there were... political obstacles."
"You mean my brother. I'd call him a bastard because I'm shocked that a kind man such as my father could sire such a piece of shit. How did you manage it?"
Serebryakov smiled slyly. "Oh, we needed a sculptor, as you know, but when our lawyer pointed out that you had been institutionalized without consent OR a prior diagnosis, they became more agreeable. They didn't want the Argent to enter their legal system again! We also waited until your brother was in the Far East so he couldn't interfere. Oh! That reminds me..." She fished out a document.
"What is this? I already signed the employment contract."
"It's a power-of-attorney so we can sue your sister and mother for your share of your father's inheritance. He was quite wealthy, as you know, and we have gathered evidence that the doctor who helped commit you was paid off. Your brother has political power but isn't very good at hiding his tracks. Your mother and sister are, to be blunt, useless idiots. In addition, I think we can get compounded interest on the amount you should have received and perhaps even an extra levy so that we don't sue them for wrongful imprisonment. With luck, you'll be quite wealthy by this time next year." She pursed her lips in annoyance. "Unfortunately, your brother WAS smart enough not to take any of the money for himself."
"M-my inheritance? I hadn't even thought of that."
"Oh, my, yes. Apparently, even before dividing his wealth, he had an additional set-aside for building you an art studio. With the way your family spends the money he earned, they'll be left with next to nothing when we're done."
Camille signed the papers hastily, a huge smile on her face for the first time.
* * *
### Several months ago ###
Tanya put down the papers in front of her and nodded decisively. "I know the sculptor we should use for the project. Or sculptress, in this case."
Visha looked up from her work, "Oh?"
"She was one of Rodin's proteges. Lover, actually. We need someone very talented to pull this off, as you know. She has the skills and, even better, she is in a bad situation that we can help her out of."
Visha noted her name and the other details. This is so much like Tanya! We can do a good deed and further our cause at the same time. She's always thinking of others, even in something as simple as this. "We'll bring her to our side as soon as possible." The thought made her smile and she hummed a few bars of 'Ode to Joy' without thinking about it.
Argent smiled as well. It's good to have subordinates who think like I do. By rescuing Camille, we can get a sculptor on the cheap and a wealthy ally that owes us more loyalty than her own country. What could be better than that?
* * *
Doctor Trapp, after a grueling few weeks, finally had his records and initial examinations of employees in order. It didn't help that he (and his staff) were seeing patients for actual ailments at the same time and he also took on nearly a dozen projects around the community to improve the health of everyone in the long term. He was such a ubiquitous figure that he was known to all. Behind his back, they called him 'Dr. Busybody' but with affection rather than derision.
Still, he had three assistants (for now) and his full-time ambulance driver and part-time office helper, Pete, was relaxing outside eating a sandwich with his friend.
His buddy whistled and said, "Pete old boy, you have got it made! You get to hang around for a paycheck every day for doing what? Taking naps?"
He shook his head. "I have to admit, not much 'ambulance' work in a town that full of mostly young, very healthy, and generally careful people. I help out the Doc best I can while waiting for emergencies, you know?"
"Huh. How much can that be?"
"You think I don't work? Let me tell you, I get paid and I'm working every day, my fine misinformed friend. Just since Doc arrived we've worked on mandatory use of safety helmets for construction workers, seat belts in all vehicles going faster than 15 mph, first aid kits and fire extinguishers in every building, fire drills for all structures three or more stories tall." He shook his head. "And that's not all! I swear, Dr. Busybody is a demon that doesn't sleep." He sniffed and did a pretty good impression of Trapp. "You know what the best patient to treat is Pete? The one who doesn't get sick or injured!"
Samuel looked up, "Must be nice to fly."
"I can't even describe it. I got tested by TvD when I got hired on to be a driver and found out I'm mage... whodathunk? I can't make a shield that will stop a snowball or empower a firecracker but I can sure move in the air even with a patient. Beats trying to maneuver a tin lizzy around even the best streets!" Even now, he was tempted to take a trip around but he had to stay within earshot of the office in case an emergency call came in.
Samuel rubbed his chin. "Maybe I should get the test, too? Hey, I could be the next big thing!"
Pete shook his head solemnly. "Don't bother. You need a brain to be a mage, don't you know?"
He took the outraged punch to his shoulder as the proper applause for his verbal jab!
* * *
Isabelle was constantly drawn to the many shops and restaurants that lined the boulevards. Each area had quiet music playing from hidden speakers, a different theme depending on the surroundings. Bubbly, light music for areas where children would gather; sophisticated classical music near fancy shops and eateries; upbeat and peppy music near the many bars! After a mostly direct walk through the town (Isabelle still couldn't think of the sprawling multi-block area as a mere consulate!), they finally arrived at the consulate proper.
The formerly run-down building had been restored... and improved! There was a decorative wrought-iron fence with silver spear blade toppings all around the building but the fence did nothing to hide the well-manicured lawn, newly planted trees, stone walkways and flowerbeds. Some were, naturally, lying fallow as winter was approaching but it was obvious that it would be quite the showcase come spring.
Tanya's experienced eye recognized the signs of defensive emplacements in what appeared to be mundane attic windows. Decorative stonework along the fence may have a 'practical' purpose. It was nothing a civilian (or even a skilled soldier) could spot but she had made a habit of always knowing where someone could shoot at her and definitely would not want to attack this house if the defenders were alerted!
Other suspicious items were also present... something to ask about later.
"Well, it's been quite the journey, and not without a few twists, but we're here at last. Let's see how they've fixed the place up!" Tanya walked forward confidently as if she were in her own house which, in a sense, she was.
As they approached the front door, it opened to reveal Oskar in his 'working' clothes: something suited for either business or diplomatic affairs. He had several fancier outfits for formal affairs that were saved for the proper occasions. It was hard to tell but his hair was still slightly damp as he had been helping paint the last room of the manor not thirty minutes ago when he got the word that Degurechaff was on her way.
"Good morning, Botschaftsrat Gustav. Even with just a brief inspection, I'm impressed with how complete the consulate is and how well the tasks have been done. My commendations!"
"You honor me, Generalkonsul. I relinquish control to you."
"Now that that formality is out of the way, let's drop it again!" Her eyes twinkled. "Besides, we'll soon be far too busy to worry about such things as we have a nation to conquer!" Through our diplomatic overtures and business ventures, we'll be America's staunchest allies before the decade is done.
Oskar blinked and thought, Surely she meant that metaphorically. Right? Right? He hurried after her without seeming like he was running.