Tanya, lightly wrapped in bandages and an oversized bathrobe, was speaking on her personal phone in the consulate main residence. All her maids hovered around her like nervous hens with only one chick but she seemed quite relaxed and not in any discomfort.
"Oh, I certainly think we need to talk. Soon." She listened and sipped her coffee. "No, I insist you come to the consulate. Surely one will need to see the evidence with one's own eyes?"
She hung up the phone and then clapped her hands lightly. "Ladies, we will be hosting important guests soon." She grinned showing a bit of fang while still looking quite charming. "Let's prepare a show for them!"
* * *
The skies were a rain-washed and beautiful blue shade normally found only in precious gems or the finest art. A pleasant table with a variety of snack and beverages were laid out. It was set up on a terrace outside of the headquarters with comfortably stylish chairs around it. Tanya's chair was subtly taller than the others without it being obvious; they had been custom made for just this purpose. Normally her chair would be facing away from the consulate building but it had been repositioned for today.
There were others sitting around the table with her, some less comfortably than others, though this was no fault of the furniture. No, the main thing was that, the way she was sitting, the decapitated Eiffel's Tower was clearly and unavoidably visible behind her. She calmly sipped her coffee and then said, "So, gentlemen, we have a lot to discuss today about this... situation." Rather than downplaying her injuries, her bandages were quite prominent without impacting the simple but well-chosen outfit she wore.
The visitors were Mayor Thompson who shuffled nervously every time he looked up at the damaged structure, Major Hawthorn who sat grimly as if about to be sent to a firing squad, and a surprisingly affable J. Edwin Hooper. The latter seemed the happiest (or least unhappy), like a hound about to be set on a trail. Hawthorn's aide, Sgt. Smith stood to one side, the most nervous of them all!
"To avoid any misunderstandings, let me state the facts: Mary Sioux of the Unified States military, using combat-grade weaponry, assaulted the Germanian consulate, put countless lives in danger and specifically tried to kill the Germanian ambassador, which would be myself."
Oskar, as they had arranged, spoke up, "Technically, Sioux had been discharged, dishonorably at that, and she was using relatively obsolete gear that she had stolen."
Degurechaff steepled her fingers together. "Ah, yes, thank you for the correction. So, the most dangerous mage in the Unified States Army was 'dishonorably' discharged a few weeks before the attack and conveniently happened across weaponry just obsolete enough to give plausible deniability about how she might have acquired them. That will sound so much better when people hear it."
Thompson said levelly, "It does happen to be the truth."
"Everyone might agree on the facts, Major, but what can't be intuited or proven are the motivations and they all point to a coordinated effort of assassination!"
Hooper put down a glass of whiskey. Unlike the other visitors, he didn't mind indulging despite the seriousness of the topic. "Considering three other attempts in the last half year, that would be the natural conclusion."
Oskar interjected, "Did you say three, Mr Hooper?"
"Ah, well, two actualized and evidence that a third one was thwarted somehow." He refilled his glass. "But it was to occur on American soil. We found and, eventually, identified the body of a notorious murderer in New York."
Tanya tilted her head slightly to one side. "How did he die?"
"Our medical Johnnies say heart attack but my gut says something else. Either way he was there at the exact same time you were. Coincidence?"
"Once is happenstance. Twice is coincidence. Three times is enemy action."
"Ha! Exactly!"
"The question is how to deal with the situation." She looked out of the corner of her eye, not even bothering to turn, but all their gazes were drawn to Eiffel's Tower.
Hawthorn said, "Well I can start by taking custody of Miss Sioux."
"Denied." Degurechaff said without hesitation.
"Pardon?"
"I said denied. She is in my custody and there she will remain."
"Ambassador, that is highly irregular! She must be extradited to the Unified States!"
"You can submit the paperwork, but the answer will not change. She is a foreign invader on Germanian soil and wholly subject to our laws. Moreover, she is a civilian, apparently, so she can't even be counted as a prisoner of war." She smiled. "She will be sentenced per my authority."
"Surely she will object, Degurechaff!"
Tanya sipped her coffee. "Actually, she has already agreed to it. After creating so much chaos, she had a change of heart and was quite remorseful." She looked at the men over her cup and then put it down firmly. "I don't recommend fighting me on this. You'll find my powers as ambassador are quite broad. It's similar to being a medieval governor... unless I'm recalled by Germania, I have a free hand to do as I wish in this matter."
The mayor, loathe to speak as he had heard in no small amount of detail what had happened to Capone and his crew, finally spoke up. "I..." He cleared his throat. "I don't want any trouble or a repeat of what happened in Paree."
The major, surprised that "Big Bill" was being so cautious. The man he knew was bold to the point of recklessness and loud-mouthed to the point of offense. When had he gotten so meek? "That's a good point. The consulate IS surrounded by Chicago."
"The situations are hardly parallel. There is no underground movement of Sioux supporters in the Unified States, much less Chicago. Plus, let us be honest, the Francois are much more hot-blooded than most. No, let us discuss our plans going forward. There are two paths I see. One is a contrite Mary Sioux, saddened by the harm, she's done, works hard to make amends as best she can to those she has harmed. The second is a cowed Mary Sioux is dragged to justice with lurid images of her worst crimes against Germania displayed for all to see."
Hooper raised an eyebrow, "Displayed?"
"Oh, we've been making great advancements in projection technology!" She touched an heptagonal orb on the table and a ten-foot tall image of Eiffel's Tower came into view. Lightning flashed in the background accompanied by deep thunder! The point of view was someone falling away from the Tower and they could clearly see the violet beam of energy cut through the living steel and the massive upper floor and peak list and then tumble before Tanya shut it off. "Quite exciting, eh! It's even better in a darkened theater or auditorium with better loudspeakers. You can really feel the thunder and the crashing of the girders in your bones."
J. Edwin, while impressed, wasn't as shocked as the others. Perhaps because he didn't have any consequences resulting from Sioux's fate. "Who recorded that?"
"A waiter escaping from the attack. We have flying waiters to deliver meals to the Tower because there's limited room there."
"Your waiters can fly and record things?"
She shrugged. "They have orbs anyway, so it makes orders more certain."
He rubbed his chin. "My agents could use something like that."
"I think we can manage something. We have also developed a variety of spells that would be useful in your... line of work." She stopped the military men before they could object. "All within the boundaries of the treaty, naturally." She shot him a look that said, I can't provide you better things than we could use ourselves because I don't want to rock the boat.
He glanced back and thought, I'll work to get those sanctions lifted as soon as I can even if I have to blackmail all the countries involved!
They nodded as if they understood each other.
"Ahem? About Sioux?" The Major tried to get the talks back on course.
"Oh, his use of weapons prohibited by the Rules of War? Honestly, I had forgotten about that, but having both father and daughter functioning as assassins? It really doesn't look good."
"He... what?"
"My adjutant at the time, currently the Vice President of TvD got a a few pictures on her orb. Honestly, from reports he didn't seem the type but war changes us all."
Knowing the negotiation battle had long been lost, Major Hawthorne just sighed and said, "What do you want?"
Tanya smiled as now they were finally down to business.
* * *
The men felt somewhat shell-shocked themselves after their hostess and host left the table. Hawthorne looked at the Tower and finally poured himself a glass of the excellent whiskey. "Well, gentlemen, she got us and she got us good." He took a sip and said, "The damnable part is that she didn't really ask for anything outrageous. It doesn't cost us anything."
Hooper laughed. "But what a precedent!" He glanced over at the Mayor who had said very little the whole time and who was far ahead of both of them in drinking. "Are you sure you're okay with that deal?"
The big man shuddered. "As long as she doesn't... ahem. I'm fine with it! As she pointed out, it's not that different from what she is already doing. All I have to do is endorse her creative interpretation of the law."
The military man took a longer sip, appreciating the vintage. "It's a very, very, VERY small price. We make her look good and she doesn't make us look bad. It helps that it's mostly the truth just with some extra paint on it. She could have asked for so much more."
Hooper indicated the Tower with his glass. "I can't even imagine how much it will cost to fix THAT. It's a miracle that it hasn't collapsed further."
Sergeant Smith cleared his throat, wishing he could partake of the drink. "According to my sources, mages went out immediately after the battle to reinforce the lower section and the damaged area. They have already started remaking the destroyed section."
"Good job, Sergeant! Efficient as always. Make sure the receipts are on my desk by morning."
"Yes sir." He didn't look happy about the praise but no on noticed.
"With her efficiency, I'm surprised that they haven't already cleared the wreckage away."
"They are redesigning that portion of the grounds as a monument to the attack. They expect it to be quite popular."
Only she would turn an assassination attempt as a combined propaganda device and tourist attraction! "It's her Tower, she can with it as she will."
"My source says they are going to specially reinforce and coat it so that people can walk inside for generations to come without worry."
"Of COURSE she is." He sighed and threw back his drink!
* * *
"Read all about it! Germanian Ambassador attacked by deranged soldier! Latest details!"
* * *
"...and it is only by the hand of Providence that no one was killed in that terrible night. As the Ambassador has a 'no secrets' policy, everything will be available to view as soon as the consulate reopens."
Interview with Mayor Hyland
* * *
Tanya: Although Miss Sioux is not entirely responsible for her actions, she has told me personally she doesn't wish to be shielded from the consequences of her attack. The Great War took a toll on us all and she also lost her beloved father in the conflict. It was enough to drive even the strongest among us to madness.
Reporter: What about her being armed with military grade weapons?
Tanya: She apparently robbed the relics of a deceased veteran and repaired them to bare functionality. Hardly 'military grade' at that point. One could as easily say that strapping some armor to a horse turns it into a tank!
Reporter: I hear she will be giving an interview soon.
Tanya: That's my understanding. Having come to her senses, she is naturally horrified. I think she's at the hospital today apologizing to the soldier she injured.
* * *
Major Hawthorn's superiors were, to state it mildly, not amused by the resolution but were helpless to fight against it. To do so would make them look weak – or worse – foolish. In exchange for not making the Unified States look like the aggressor in a near-successful bid to start another World War, they were willing to look the other way.
* * *
Yvette Oberst got a telegram from Tanya that just said, "ALL SIGNALS GREEN".
She stepped out of her rolling office and saw Junior. "Ah, Mr. Henry! We have the 'go' message from the President."
"Yes'm." He was gradually getting used to people treating him with respect... that wasn't backed up by his large frame and hard fists! "Err, which project? Expanding the embassy or continuing the rail line into Illinois?"
"Why, both of course. How could it be otherwise?"
* * *
In some ways, Mary was more heavily injured that Cal or Tanya. Weeks of privation, forced magical overstimulation and then the final fight with Degurechaff had to leave one drained at the very least.
Cal's heart was doing fine and his natural recovery was healing his wounds quite rapidly. With the experimental magical care and Dr. Trapp's obsessive insistence on cleanliness and avoiding post-operative infections, he was doing fine.
Still, he was a bit wary when she entered his ward, even if she was holding a bundle of flowers.
Gisela stared with open hostility. "You are NOT welcome here. Leave now."
Mary was about to flare up but a recently acquired patience came to her rescue. "I can make my amends later, but please accept these for now."
He nodded and said. "Fine, you can put them there."
She nodded and placed them on a side table. As she was leaving, she paused briefly and said with painfully heartfelt emotion, "I am glad that you survived."
The big man finally smiled, "Yeah, me too."
* * *
Somewhere in the multiverse, HE raged!
Actions were taken.
Actions that could not be taken back.
Actions that tilted the great tableau in ways that no one could predict.
Almost no one...
Chapter 102 - Red Letter Day
Tanya was singing lightly under her breath as she worked, obviously in a very good mood. Documents delayed by the fight and injuries flew under hands as she made decisions or approved of decisions already made. The latter she barely glanced at, knowing the quality of the work presented. What a wonderful day! Sure we had to shut down the consulate for a few days, and we'll have to rebuild the Tower, but the political gains are enormous!
"Oskar, everyone that was here on the day of the attack, I want to give them a token. It will be good for a free weekend visit to the consulate including lodging and meals at any time."
"Won't that cause scheduling conflicts and great expense?"
"Not at all. In fact, I doubt few of them will ever be redeemed. The design should look like Eiffel's Tower as it is now and they should be numbered. Make sure everyone knows that they will never be made again and are only available to those who were here that day. To use them for the offer, you have to give up the token."
"Aren't you worried about counter... ah, the new anodization process!"
She nodded. "Exactly! With the level of detail and the patented process, there's no way someone could copy them without surpassing our own skills. And since they are numbered, they could only copy one at great risk because they would know we are keeping track of them. No, copying is not worth it and I suspect they will become treasured heirlooms."
"This is a very interesting idea... I think there should be a downside, but I can't see one."
"That's because your good sense rebels with the idea of creating value out of nothing... or next to nothing. The tokens have a value because you can trade them for some entertainment. That is an intrinsic worth. But there are two other things as well. First, it is commemorative. It evokes memories and emotions like a postcard, or photograph, or some other memento. Second, it is scarce. Only a few hundred of these will ever be made. EVER. Diamonds are precious mostly because they are rare; if they were as common as pebbles, they would be as valuable as pebbles, just prettier!"
"So their scarcity would be guaranteed by us... partially because we wouldn't want to redeem all those hotel rooms and meals?"
"Exactly. Even without the ability to trade them in, as long as people trust us not to glut the market with these things. Along those lines, we are going to produce items as souvenirs. No artificial scarcity there, but we will change the design every year to encourage people to visit regularly."
"Interesting. As you say, creating something from nothing."
She pulled out a box. "There's something that is much more like that and they are finally ready. We'll be selling these at the Consulate and soon across the country."
"Hmmm... such a small box... I'm intrigued."
"I won't keep you in suspense. This is the culmination of Projekt Homerun. Perhaps you've heard of baseball cards?"
"Yes, yes of course. I don't smoke except for the occasional cigar but I've seen them."
"They also sell them with candy, mostly gum. These are similar but they are for mages." She spread a selection of cards on the table. Unlike baseball cards with rather low-quality photos, these had beautiful printed designs for each that were obviously painted rather than photographs.
"Drawn, eh? Well, they are striking."
"Drawn by necessity. Photos could be viewed as 'belonging' to the subject and we can't be guaranteed to have a good one for each person. So what we did was to have artists using researched photos provided to us by the intelligence department." She pointed at three from Germania. "You see how these have a similar art style? We picked a different artist for each country to help tie them together thematically."
"It seems like there somewhat confidential information on here, though?"
She shrugged, "It's just our best guess as to power levels for the first year of the war. We intend to put out a set for each year as skill levels improved and new mages were introduced. Reporting our guesses is hardly illegal no matter how 'confidential' it might be." Tanya grinned. "Besides, these aren't JUST trading cards. It's a card game where you use the 'stats' to conduct battles. Depending on their attributes, you can recruit new cards onto your side."
Despite himself, he was intrigued. "So it's a game where you don't have all the pieces immediately? Wouldn't you have the problem that people could just buy the most powerful cards?"
"The 'better' cards take more resources to bring out so there is a balance there. If you just have expensive cards, you may find yourself unable to play anything where a more agile, cheaper deck would be gaining ground."
"Hmmm... this has hidden depths. I can see the attraction for both collectors and those who want to play the game." She has so many projects and she's still making games for the children. Father said she was complex and interesting, but even has no idea.
With reasonable gameplay, great art, and the desire for people to know more about these mages, we'll make a MINT! That's even before we get into the rarity levels. "But let it not be said I won't give back to those depicted. Anyone who is willing to let us capture their image for photo cards will get paid a reasonable fee. No matter what country, on either side of the conflict, I'll pay them. Plus they'll get copies of their own cards. If this goes the way I think it will, those cards may be more valuable than any pay."
"Ah, making something from nothing again?"
She smiled, "You catch on quickly! Yes, when we finish an annual run of cards, we won't ever reprint them. Variants, perhaps, for those who care more about playing than collecting but the original run will be fixed." With a casual hand, she spread a deck of cards revealing numerous faces. Some friends, some foes, some living, some dead.
"Will your cards be in there, I wonder?"
Tanya laughed! "Of course, we have to be fair, don't we? I won't reveal all my secrets but I guarantee that my card will be quite popular." And quite rare!
* * *
Mary Sioux sat in a rather plain but pleasant enough room on the upper floor of the consulate. She was not restrained in any way but had given her word to Tanya that she wouldn't leave without permission. The room, coincidentally or not, looked out on Eiffel's Tower. She spent much of her day looking out that window or just... thinking.
"Mary, what have you done? What have you been doing?" These were questions she never asked before. She had never even thought to ask them since she joined the military a lifetime ago. But now that was all she could think to ask of herself.
"That thing... the dybbuk... I can tell it's gone. It's like my magic was a horse run hot for so long and now it's resting." She laughed mirthlessly. "I guess I was the horse and now my rider is gone." She felt a wave of disgust as she remembered the many months being under control of that thing and fought the urge to vomit.
She had lost that fight several times already.
Mary remembered something Tanya told her just before she agreed to her house arrest. You need to have a long talk with yourself, take a good look in a mirror, and decide who you want to be. If you need to talk, come find me but NOT before you at least try to figure it out, Sioux. I'll give you a hint: if you feel like your guts are twisting or you are going to panic, then you are on the right track.
"Okay, Degurechaff. By that standard, I'm really successful right now because I want to empty my stomach and run screaming through the hallways. So, what now?" Lacking further guidance and not willing to give up and face Tanya's scorn for failing so quickly, she decided to take the advice literally.
She looked in the mirror of her room. She had been unconsciously avoiding it for days and had to force herself in the end. Mary stepped back in shock! The haggard woman looking back at her reminded her nothing of how she looked in the past. The mirror was so well-made that, for the briefest second, she thought there was a stranger looking at her through a window.
Her hair, though now clean, looked like dry straw. Haunted, dark-circled eyes stared at her over an unsmiling mouth. Tanned and weathered skin was prematurely aged and made her look her twenty years older. She reached up to touch her hair and her doppelganger copied her motion.
"I look like my mummo." She took a deep breath. "Okay, Grandma, what have I been doing?"
She watched her reflection respond as she answered her own question. "You were upset by the death of your father. So you decided to do anything you had to for revenge. That's pretty much it. You killed and stole and destroyed so you could wipe out that girl. You weren't some avenging hero. Fuck, you aren't even a good person."
"Didn't she do the same? She killed more people than I ever did!"
Her expression rolled its eyes. "She was a penniless orphan with no skills other than a talent in magic. Even that wouldn't serve her in civilian life as orbs are too expensive so her only choice was to enlist. After she was in the military, she had to follow orders. More than you were able to do, as it turns out."
"That creature... it was driving me... making me do things." She roused herself. "I was! Even she said it!"
"Does that excuse anything? Does it bring back the dead?" Her reflection pointed at her. "You are still making excuses! You survived the Great War... you are one lucky girl. Now you need to act like it rather than a spoiled child." The image sneered. "You don't like being compared to Degurechaff. Is that because you feel like you are losing by example?"
"Am I?" she asked quietly.
"Of course you are. Now that the war is over, she's been traveling the world, doing good works, trying to make amends even if she wasn't at fault. The point is that it doesn't matter who is at fault, the world is still in a horrible state." The woman in the mirror shook her head. "You have great power! It's time to use it!"
* * *
Junior, now with a certain amount of magical training, was even more productive than before. His no-nonsense leadership style kept everyone else productive as well. Problems of construction, he handled easily, but problems of other sorts, he was at a loss.
"Miss Yvette, there are some yahoos who are causing problems."
"Oh?" She looked up from her paperwork. "What are they doing?"
He sighed and shook his head. "They are getting in the way. Hassling workers. I think some of them tried to steal some supplies but since we use stuff pretty much as we move, they couldn't get away with anything. They run away pretty fast when I show up but I can't be everywhere."
Yvette frowned. "That sounds more organized than not."
"Yeah, probably. I've heard of this before. Seen some of it myself. My Pa told me that when there were a lot more railways when he was laying rail. When they were shaking out, it got mighty rough and there might be blood soon. We had no problems in New York and the Boss has Illinois wrapped up." He shrugged helplessly. "But there are quite a few miles between the two!"
"This is beyond what we can handle. Let me send a message to the President and see what she suggests." The supervisor smiled and nodded. "Miss Degurechaff is very good at creative solutions. I'm sure she'll come up with something."
* * *
Herr Bruning's day was going well... a pattern that had been continuing for several months. The political office was slowly regaining its influence through numerous deals and alliances and his spirits rose in sync. He was neatening up his appearance in his looking-glass and said, "I hate to admit it, but sending that witch to the Unified States really was the best idea. With her gone, everything is falling into place."
Muller shook his head. "Falling, not so much. Pushed . Cajoled. Forced. Enticed. So many more accurate words."
Albrecht tut-tutted. "Don't be such a nervous Nellie, Muller! Also, you left out 'bribed'."
"We don't use such words. As a proper servitor of the people, we should use language that will keep people the happiest. And isn't the happiness of the people our real goal?"
"Lie all you want, but I choose not to lie to myself, my friends."
Bruning looked over his shoulder. "Are you going to talk like that as you legislate?"
Albrecht looked horrified. "Of course not!" He tapped a thick cigar ash into a convenient ashtray. "But you aren't my constituents, are you?" He laughed in a most charming fashion.
"Be that as it may, however you call it. We have plenty of diners lined up; will we have enough meat for them all?"
"All that and more. Once they vote us the proper knives so we can carve dinner."
Muller was the only one of the three that looked even slightly concerned. "Once they finish the meal you set, what is stopping them from coming after us afterward?"
Bruning grinned. "It's easy to invite the wolf to dinner but who will dare ask us to leave? By the time they realize it, we'll have power to pick on of them to be the next entree!"
* * *
The gathered figures were all dressed in robes of various shades but all in dark and muted colors. The shapeless clothing and low hoods revealed nothing, concealed everything. Even the light levels were kept low hiding what details might be gleaned otherwise.
The sole grace of the ruined building was that no one came here anymore. War had started the destruction and neglect had finished it. Even the sharpest eye would have to be very close to notice those within the half-standing walls and collapsed roof.
The only bright spot was the figure that stood silhouetted by the dim lantern. 'His' voice was masculine, to a degree, and most of those around thought that 'he' was male.
Certainly he did nothing to confirm or dispel the belief. He insisted they all call each other 'brother' regardless of gender.
"Brothers! We are gathered here for a purpose... a holy purpose. The Devil stalks the land, unimpeded, even lauded."
"Worshiped..." muttered someone.
"Yes! Worshiped, indeed. Sitting on a growing throne built of blood, and lives, and souls, she becomes strong. By the day, by the hour her evil empire reaches further as her influence waxes."
He raised his arms, revealing long scarlet gloves. "While God weeps, the Devil walks in the sun! But Do. Not. Let. Your. Heart. Tremble! For the Almighty has granted us a holy artifact!" He reached into his robes and held up a beautifully polished device that had been lovingly crafted by many craftsmen... and one mad genius. The shaft of the rod was twisted steel and gold and wood, shaped by unknown methods. There was a cracked red crystal at the top seemed to absorb more than its share of the dim light... or maybe there was something at its core, pulsing like a slow heart, not yet awakened.
"Providence has given us this mighty weapon, with which we can strike down the Beast, the Whore of Babylon, the God-forsaken DEVIL OF THE RHINE!"
Cheers rose into the night, tearing at the throats with their passion, roaring their unity of will and promising blood to come!
* * *
Visha looked at the calendar on her wall as she marked off one more box. It spanned a full year to be better able to plan things she must do. Only one day, written in red, stood out from the rest... July 18th. She smiled happily. "I can hardly wait!" She patted the day. "No, no. Mustn't get too excited yet. This is going to be the best birthday ever!"
Chapter 103 - Dust to dust
Helga, as she was known to her friends and coworkers alike, was the head of the Zart division of TvD. To her, and most of the company, it was like mystery box where magical things would pop out every so often. The secret was rather simple: creators loved to create. TvD gave them nearly unlimited freedom to pursue their fancies... and the funding to do it. Tanya only asked that after such flights of imagination that they try to make something practical with it.
Helga saw rows of offices, numerous conference rooms and labs of every size and type. A bewildering variety of activities were going on and she looked around curiously as they walked together.
"Herr Schumacher... so many rooms but most seem to be empty. Is there a holiday?"
He laughed and shook his head. "No no! We just do so many things, that sometimes you need one resource or another. So there are labs for all manner of activities but not all are needed at the same time." He pointed at a series of doors. "Likewise, each researcher and technologist has a private office when they need to work privately but they spend more time in the labs or the common areas to collaborate."
"How convenient! Maybe we can do something similar at Zart. Sometimes our 'creative' space has to take over the manufacturing areas and that slows things down."
"I'm sure that wouldn't be a problem. The President, and Vice President, are big supporters of basic research. Speaking of which, I have to thank you for taking time out of your schedule to help us out."
"I was coming to open a new factory in the area so I was literally in the area!" She laughed lightly. "We do keep busy, though, and I was hoping you could help with an issue I had as well."
"We always like new problems here or, as the President calls them, 'opportunities'."
"Opportunities. I'm sure this fits that description. My girls have been playing with a Jacquard loom but it's inconvenient to set up a new pattern and we were hoping that your team could come up with some clever method to assist us."
"Jacquard loom? Sounds like a Francois thing."
"Cleverness knows no borders, Herr Schumacher!"
He laughed uncomfortably. "It's not that... it's just that my knowledge of the language is non-existant."
She nodded. "It's a machine. I'm sure you clever fellows will be able to figure it out."
"I'm sure, I'm sure. But today you will be helping us with your knowledge of weaving."
"Yes, that's my understanding but the message was quite cryptic. How can I help you with your work?"
He led her into a lab and pointed at a a wide variety of wires, cables and testing apparatuses. "I'll be direct. We are trying to make a flexible, but light, metal sheath for a cable core. We could just make it thicker and bigger but we need to carry many hundreds of MILES of cable so getting the maximum strength for the least weight is vital."
She walked over to the table with the various prototypes and said, "May I?"
"Please!"
She touched the heavy cables, examined the sheathing materials and the wires. After a few minutes of thought, she said, "I think I may have a solution but it will require cleverness on your part."
His eyebrows raised. "So soon! Please tell me Frau!"
She smiled and touched their previous attempts. "You are thinking big, but you need to think SMALL. A woven metal sheath will have the flexibility you need but the wires need to be much thinner than this. Also the components will need to be able to move properly." She sketched out how the machine needed to work while Schumacher took careful notes and asked questions when clarifications were required.
"Brilliant! I can't thank you enough... this will save us many weary hours."
"Nonsense, this was that difficult. The thing to remember about weaving is that it adds flexibility and strength whereas if punch holes in things, that will weaken them. Sometimes to be strong... you need to be soft."
"We will most certainly keep that in mind. Now since we've hardly used any of the time allotted, let us look at your loom, eh?"
Unbeknownst to the two of them at the time, when Degurechaff read the report of the meeting, she immediately ordered an entire division set up to work with it. She also told them to research the works of certain British mathematicians including a daughter of Lord Byron, of all things.
* * *
As she had been allowed a certain amount of freedom, Mary Sioux planned to tour the Consulate but she had a much harder task first: writing home.
Dearest Mother,
I hope this missive finds you well. I cannot express my contrition at the grief I must have caused you when you needed my support the most and I can only say that I strive to mend my ways and the wrongs done to you are but that is but the first in a long line of other sins I must atone for.
My own health is perhaps surprisingly well. My so-called captor, the former Colonel Tanya von Degurechaff, has seen to it that I am comfortable in body though uneasy in mind. She has asked me to ask myself hard questions and it has been the most difficult task I have yet to endeavor upon. Still even someone as unused to complicated thoughts such as myself find that it gets easier with time.
Forgive me for the shortness of this letter but I decided to favor promptness over completeness. Please apologize to Grandmother and tell her that she will be included in my next missive. I will write many, many more times but know that all my love is with you now and always.
Your returned daughter,
Mary Sioux
She kept the letter very short as she intended to write at much more length soon. She owed her mother and grandmother years of letters and it would take more than one to make up for that lack. Today, she had other tasks, the first of which was to have a look around.
Mary was surprised that, in just a few days, everything seemed back to normal. Other than around the Tower, of course. She dressed inconspicuously, not that she stood out. Her face was hardly well-known, even to those in the military, and was doing nothing to draw attention to herself, just... watching.
Throngs of cheerful tourists were enjoying their day, taking pictures, eating at outdoor cafes. She saw couples, and families, and throngs of kids with unusual toys, and smiling men going for lunch and beer before heading back to work. Seeing them reminded her that she had skipped breakfast. Even writing that short note had been so stressful she had felt no hunger at all. But now that lack was coming back and so she decided to get some food out here rather than in the main Consulate building.
She picked a restaurant at random, mostly choosing it because it seemed slightly less busy than the others. As it turned out, it was a Germanian establishment that seemed more bar than eatery but it still served food and that's what she was here for.
She sat down at a random table and saw there was a menu already in place. Mary opened it and marveled at the vivid pictures of the food next to each entry. Even if she hadn't been hungry, she would have found just the menu mouth-watering! A woman with a pronounced Germanian accent (but excellent Anglish otherwise) asked her, "Do you need help with the choices? There are brief descriptions but can they tell you how things taste? I say no!"
"I've never had food from the Empire. What would rec... no... just bring me whatever is your favorite."
"Of course! And to drink?"
"There was one thing.. Appleshore?"
"Apfelschorle! Good choice." She pointed her thumb at some of the workers at the bar. "Don't mimic those fellows. Just because you CAN drink beer all day doesn't mean you SHOULD."
Mary glanced at the men who, as indicated, were enjoying a glass of beer each but otherwise didn't seem to be inebriated. "Good advice."
Soon she had a steaming dish of Spatzle with a large Currywurst and a small heap of Kraut on the side. The first two she enjoyed greatly but she pushed aside the Kraut after just a little bite, not liking the sour taste. Apfelschorle turned out to be a carbonated apple drink that was delightful and refreshing and she found herself reordering it several times.
I had no idea Germanian food was this good! She looked at the workers and she could tell by their features and accents that two-thirds were from the Unified States and the rest from Germania. They all were getting along famously and only grumbled when the waitress reminded them it was time for them to settle their bills and get back to work. Mary watched them file out, soon to be replaced by other men much the same as the ones that just left.
If I squint my eyes, there isn't much difference between them, is there? She thought back to her father and his ill-fated attempt at assassination. He used to be like this. Cheerfully enjoying a meal, talking with friends or with mother. Could he have enjoyed a meal with someone from Germania? Maybe Degurechaff herself? She tried to picture it and it was shockingly easy to imagine. They would be sitting at that smaller table over there: the large man and the small woman, likely in their uniforms that they wore more than anything else. The table would be covered with Germanian dishes with large mugs of beer. They would be discussing military tactics, arguing about the proper way to train their men, or complaining about the stupidity of politicians. She could hear his laughter as Tanya made some wry comment about the state of the world.
Mary's imaginary father continued their conversation but she forced herself to look away before tears started to flow. She hurriedly put down too much money on the table (provided by Tanya so Mary could visit the Consulate) and hurried out. She tried to ignore her own delusion that turned briefly to give her a loving smile before turning back to his conversation.
She walked over to where workers were busily repairing the Tower and said, "What can I do to help?"
At the restaurant, the waitress came back with a dessert but saw that Mary had paid and gone. She scooped up the money and said, "Oh, well, more Strudel for me!"
* * *
The town, some would say former town, of Arene was coming back in fits and starts. By virtue of geography and chance, it was still one the major hubs for industry and travel... one of the reasons it was targeted during the Great War in the first place.
The old rail line was limping along but TvD was preparing to finish the final segment of the rejuvenated system. In a weird twist, that company was in charge of rebuilding much of the city under government contract... they had submitted the most competitive bid by a factor of 2.
Still, their progress was impressive and they made or beat every deadline that had been set by contract. Even the most ardent Arene-ist couldn't honestly claim they were doing a bad job. It was noted, however, there were startling gaps in the reconstruction.
Some building were not torn down or rebuilt. Some streets remained destroyed. And, most damning of all, the Cathedral of Arene wasn't even on the schedule to be remade. The head contractor was asked pointed questions about this from the Francois auditors.
"Mr. Eckstein, I have to question why there are these glaring deficiencies in the work being done! Whatever is the reason for this lack?!"
Eckstein suppressed a sigh and polished his glasses briefly to break the flow of conversation. "What deficiencies are those, my dear Mr. Charbonneau?"
The auditor stared, gape-mouthed for a full three seconds. "W-what deficiencies?! Unrepaired streets! Broken buildings! And the cathedral! Sir, are you mocking us?"
"Ah, those."
"Yes, those! What else?!"
"If you look at our contract, there is a section on 'monuments of historic value'. All the locations I believe you are concerned about on that list." He put his glasses back on calmly. "Surely you remember the discussions around that section. No? Well, that's why we have written contracts in the end. The schedule for those, due to their importance, is longer than the rest of the construction."
Charbonneau was about to start to rant again but he remember that section. "What monuments do you speak of? The Dev..."
"Ahem!" One throat clearing reminded the auditor there were lines not to be crossed.
"The war destroyed all the old monuments. There's nothing left to memorialize with!"
"That's the point, sir! Instead of cleaning up the horrors, we will make them live in the memories of those present and in the future. All too often, those in power wish to sweep their misdeeds aside, hide them under a convenient carpet of bland words and homilies. And, may I point out, we have complete control, per that contract, over how we choose to do it."
"B-but, the church..." his voice trailed off.
"As you should know, the structure was deconsecrated by representatives of the Holy See due to the use it had been put to. They have no objections, or at least have stated none. So, please, may I get back to work lest your 'oversight' further impact our schedules?"
* * *
For all that she was the Ambassador, her ambassadorial duties were rather minimal. The Unified States was taking a 'hands off' approach to her and the relationship between them and Germania was cordial if distant. Frankly, there were few issues that needed discussion and for the most part her assistant was more than capable of handling such chores.
Still, there were times when the actual Ambassador needed to make an appearance. Certainly a tour by the President of the Unified States was one such event!
There wasn't a lot fanfare but photographers did immortalize the event, but they were ushered out once the real meeting started.
"Ah, the infamous Colonel Degurechaff! I've wanted to meet you for some time."
"And I, you, Mr. President. Your humanitarian efforts in Russy were impressive. It's a shame that the recipients were so unworthy."
He shrugged. "When people are starving, how can we not feed them?"
"One could argue that it supports a government who accelerated the very famine you were alleviating. That was starvation planned by men and executed flawlessly." She spread her hands. "There is no natural disaster than can't be made worse by government meddling."
He chuckled amiably. "You say this, but even now aren't you doing similar things? Farm rescues, food giveaways, rebuilding infrastructure, orphanages... your exploits after the Great War have interested me far more than those before."
"Ah, but those are the actions of a private citizen, and I make certain that my company isn't bankrupted by such charity. Still, the people themselves weren't to blame for their situation, so I understand your position."
He sipped a whiskey that had been prepared and presented once the reporters were gone. He winked and said, "Laws are laws but I prefer some things not be captured on film."
"My beliefs exactly!" She tapped his glass with hers and they toasted each other.
After more comfortable conversation where they disagreed more than agreed, she finally sighed and said. "Your time is valuable, Mr. President, so it's probably best if I get down to business."
"I thought this was your business?" He gestured out at the consulate. "And a fine business it is! As an old engineer myself, I'm impressed by what you've accomplished." Ha! She is more like me than not. She hides her virtue under practicality but it's there nonetheless.
She laughed! This fellow is uncommonly perceptive! He knows that one can only be charitable after becoming sufficiently wealth. He turned his 'good deeds' into a a presidency and strengthens his country for re-election. Yes, I'm sure we can work together! "It's just a start, but a good one. No, I have two things I need to do. We need to do."
"Now you've intrigued me! Pray continue."
"The Russy famine started with an unexpected drought. Unexpected unless you were actually keeping an eye on things. The signs were years in the making but only a few old peasant farmers noted the changes but who listens to them?" She passed a report to the man. "Here's a record of rain levels, river heights, temperatures and so on."
"Oh, for the Russy Federation?"
"No, Mr. President." Her voice grew serious. "The western Unified States."
His jovial expression faded. "Eh?" He quickly read the reports and, while innocuous separately, were damning when taken together. "Is this all true? Can nothing be done?"
"You can investigate the numbers, they are publicly available. At this point, the disaster is unavoidable but it CAN be ameliorated. By our calculations, and such an event has never occurred in history, but is imminent. Bad agricultural techniques, some encouraged by federal land policy, higher temperatures and low rainfall will dry out the land. Then wind will pick up the soil and create a thousand-mile wall of dust that will devastate farmland from Texas to South Dakota. Pretty much everywhere the prairie grasses have been plowed up but concentrated in the area on the attached map."
He looked at the area covered grimly. The breadbasket of the Unified States would be taken out if she was even close to accurate. To support the war effort, the government had encouraged farmers, small and large, to invest in machinery and fertilizers. Generous federal loans allowed people to buy up many acres of 'useless' prairies and convert them to farmland. Once the war ended, and the market for food plunged, desperate farmers had taken advantage of the program to borrow even more money and expand production. Food had never been cheaper or more plentiful so no one questioned the situation. "What would YOU do?"
"I have some suggestions, but none are easy. Unless wolves are baying at the door, most people won't believe what seems like madness to them. I don't know how much political capital you have, but you need to end the loan program and encourage the farm families to move out immediately but to plant grass before they go."
"Grass?"
"It's one of the few things with the coverage that is used to the dry conditions. It will hold onto the soil. Honestly, it's likely too late but millions of people will be displaced and the sooner you get them out, the sooner they can start new lives."
"I doubt they would leave. Most have been farmers for generations."
"Buy back the land. Yields are lower and prices are depressed. Right now they are working harder for less... you might have an easier time than you think. You should also consider combining that with some debt forgiveness."
"All of that will take money. No matter how popular a plan, congress won't give me the funds for such a thing!"
"You might find them more amenable than you think. You can point out that the reduction in supply will naturally raise prices to a more reasonable amount and that will help handle the calls they have for price controls or subsidies. The loans were supposed to be a temporary measure for the war, right? Well, tell them the war is over!"
"There's still the matter of money."
"Only extend this offer to small farmers and businesses that support them. Plus there's a chance for you to make a lot of money very soon. Of course, everything I am about to tell you can be verified." She went on to explain the plan while he nodded with growing enthusiasm. "What do you think, Mr. President?"
"What do I think? I think you should call me Herbert! We are going to be great friends, you and I!"
"Call me Tanya... of course."
Chapter 104 - Tailor Made
[Somewhere touched by war...]
The Master looked out as his congregation with satisfaction. The pews were only half occupied but, bit by bit, he was filling them up. The abandoned church in the abandoned town was an excellent location. It would like be years before anyone came to this remote village that had the misfortune to be in the wrong place when the giant that was war walked over the land.
One of the deacons walked in followed by another acolyte. The robed figure looked at the quiet congregation with their bowed heads and turned back to the Master. The acolyte, who had never been here, chose silence.
"Ah, Sixth Deacon, do we have another hopeful brother here?"
"Yes, Master. His attributes are clearly superior and his dedication unquestioned."
"Excellent. The day we find a proper wielder, is the day when we can move forward with our great plan. Step forth, supplicant."
The acolyte was a nervous but excited. Working my way up for years... screw that! I'm too new so I'm at the bottom of the heap, but if I can gain the recognition of the artifact, that puts me on the fast track. Just one step below the 'Master' and who's to say that taking one step is so hard? And anyone who gets in my way, well, they'll just get stepped on. He kept his face neutral with no trace of his thoughts on it.
Besides, he kept his cowl low.
The Master opened the iron-bound chest that stored the artifact normally. Even quiescent, it exuded a potency that they could feel on their skin like sparks from a open forge. He stroked it with a red-gloved hand. "Such a curious thing. Those without power can touch it easily but the we, the Chosen, ah, we must be cautious. Please, take up the weapon of the Just! Lead us to a new era!"
The acolyte touched the shaft of the rod, his eyes on the cracked ruby crystal. "Oh!" There was a glimmer of light immediately and he felt the power lurking just under the surface. He lifted the device and immediately a crepuscular light started inside the cracked ruby. At first he was dissatisfied with the dimness of the glow but soon it grew stronger. "I can feel it, Master. Like we are being joined together."
The half-ruined church was soon filled with the scarlet glow like all the windows were filled with bloody stained glass. As the light brightened and expanded, their bodies, the pews, the congregation and even the building around them seemed less and less real as the artifact grew in strength. Soon there was nothing but the Acolyte and the Artifact and the lurid red illumination.
"Yes... yes!" He felt himself growing closer to the power and a heat was born in his chest. He couldn't see, but the others could, that the cracked crystal was throbbing in time with his heart, growing brighter with each beat.
"I can feel... I can feel the power. Like I could do anything!" His body lifted off the ground but, truthfully, he couldn't tell as the only thing he saw was the eternal light. I have the power now... it's time to use it, I think. First I see that certain others aren't happy that I've ascended. I'll deal with them first! "I think it's time... yes!"
The former Acolyte reached out his hand and started to pull upon the strength of the artifact but before he could anything, the power filled his body like a flood. Every muscle, every sinew, all his vessels were filled in an instant!
The Master and the Deacon watched calmly at the glowing body floating high above them. The light from inside made him look like a red sun, shining without heat, pure overwhelming light!
W-what?! What's going on?!" He tried to scream but it was more like steam escaping from a burst pipe than any human noise! Soon, he was beyond thought and was simply a vessel for pain, endless pain.
After a few more seconds, the writhing figure was suddenly doused and fell to the floor with with surprisingly little noise. The Master nodded and picked up the artifact, noting that the glow had increased incrementally from the last time. After carefully, interring it back in the case, he nodded toward the body. "Deal with it."
The Deacon bowed and picked up the body with ease as it was only a trifle. He posed the body in one of the empty seats in the pews, arranging the sleeves and hood so the blackened skeleton inside couldn't be seen. "We are getting closer, Master."
"Of course. The cup is not yet full but soon, soon..." He closed the case, the red light being cut off suddenly, leaving nothing but darkness.
* * *
[Berun]
The collaborators were gathered, discussing their plans. Chief among them, Aden Bruning, was very satisfied with their schemes. He was all smiles but inside, his thoughts were quite different. Jackals... but useful ones. I can't decide if the smart ones or the stupid ones are more useful. The smarts ones can do more but think too highly of themselves. The stupid ones are more easily led and whatever plans they might have are easy enough to decipher. Unfortunately, I need all of them... for now.
One of them spoke, breaking Aden out of this thoughts. "So the Devil will be trapped by this legislation quite neatly, I see, I see..."
Bruning thought he was one of the dumb ones and he consistently made a show of understanding everything but it was hardly convincing. He made sure the man was clued in enough so that he wouldn't make too many mistakes. "Exactly. By tying these new laws to the reparations, it will be enormously popular. Even if we have the votes, now, without the support of the people, we could easily lose a vote of confidence. With such a justification, though, who would speak against it?"
"Ah, of course! How could anyone fail to understand such a clever scheme!"
Another man, one of the clever ones, smirked a bit at the foolish man before turning to Bruning. "There is the problem of venue, however. Her holdings are spread widely, and getting wider by the day. She has a lot of strength in Francois and the Unified States. Even Magna Rumeli, Idola or Ispagna might take her in. Hell, even the Commonwealth seems to be leaning more toward her these days."
"Don't worry about the Commonwealth. She has a powerful enemy there that is less than satisfied with the current state of affairs. He's likely to make a move soon but not before we can carry out our plans." He smiled. "But we know for sure where she'll be soon."
"Eh?"
Aden tried very hard not to roll his eyes. "Please remember that she has a scheduled event in June. While the Imperial Court has been banished, it still has a lot of influence. And hasn't she been invited by them to celebrate her birthday in Germania this year?" His eyes gleamed. "Once she within these borders, well, she won't be leaving."
* * *
[Chicago Consulate]
Tanya and the chief engineer were deep in conversation about the current projects. While she was mostly hands-off, she liked being kept informed as the smooth operation of the Consulate were important to her plans. "Thank you for the update. As we are ahead of schedule, please make sure that your workers are getting proper time off. You as well, especially since these meetings must be taking you away from your work."
He waved aside her concerns. "For my part, I don't mind at all since these little meetings, far from being wastes of time, are quite useful! I'd wager that every minute I spend with you saves us days of time in the end."
She sipped her coffee and noted, annoyingly that her arms had outgrown her sleeves slightly. As much as she enjoyed becoming an adult as, perhaps, people would treat her as something more than a little girl, constantly buying clothes was an inconvenience. "By that logic, you could stay here all the time and save many months!" They both laughed at this. "At any rate, is there anything else?"
"That's it... no, there's one thing. That Legadonian girl, she's been trying to help us with repairs."
"'Trying', you say?"
He scratched his head. "I think she's honestly trying to work hard but..."
"But, she's a little... clumsy?"
Being allowed to express his feelings, he didn't hold back. "Her mana levels are off the charts but she can't DO anything with it! She can fly with the limited orb we gave her but she's utterly hopeless at anything else. She has no fine control at all when she tries to help move materials, sh e makes more damage that we have to fix. I've been using her to run errands but she's so earnest!"
Tanya sighed. "I didn't mean for her to be more of a problem trying to help than attack us. I have an idea how she can help in the long run but the time isn't right yet." She chewed on on a thumbnail as she thought. "Okay, if she has plenty of power, use that. We can't fixate mana with our orbs, but she has far more than anyone would ever need. So use her like a battery. Find some task where someone else can control the work and let her supply the energy."
The man stopped, stunned, never having considered this idea. "That... that's brilliant! We can modify one of the two-man Stahlmensch we use for construction." He started muttering about the changes would be needed, coming up with problems and talking through the solutions while Tanya watched him. "Yes, this can work. It won't be pretty, nor totally efficient, but there's no reason why we can't have something pulled together by the end of the week, maybe sooner."
"Perfection is the enemy of success, so it's better to get something pulled together even if not ideal. Besides, you can observe it in action and make changes as necessary."
He laughed. "That's one of the advantages of having metal mages around. The engineers love to tinker!"
"As long as they don't do anything dangerous, that's fine. One or two setbacks can't compare to improvements. Because problems are temporary but advancements are forever, right?"
"I had never thought of it that way, but when you say it, it makes sense." He stood up and said, "I'll send word when we have a solution, no matter how imperfect."
She rose as well. "Excellent. Oh, by the way, can you tell my maid to make an appointment with my tailor on your way out? My clothing is becoming unprofessionally undersized. I fear I am still growing."
Involuntarily, he glanced down and said with some discomfort. "Ah, yes, I'll do that! Immediately!" He rushed out leaving behind a puzzled Degurechaff.
"What has gotten into him, I wonder?" She looked down at her clothes and realized that one of her buttons over her chest was undone because it wasn't just her arms had grown larger! Th-th-this! Unacceptable! She mashed a button for her intercom to her assistant, "Cancel all my appointments for today and tell me when my tailor arrives!"
* * *
[New York]
A group of friends were talking to each other after school. Most of them had part-time jobs and only went to school for half a day but they all were sharing this lunchtime before they scattered across the neighborhood.
One of the smaller kids asked, "How did you get tested? Did you go to the Lady?"
He shook his head, "Nah... the ferry costs too much! But a Tanya Mart opened up and I did it there."
The others looked shocked. "How?" "What?" "You joshing us?"
He gave them a superior glance. "Dontchaknow that all their workers are tested automatically? So I was slick and got a job there. Smart, huh?"
"What are you doing for them? No, shut up about that, what was your score?"
"Huh, I'll answer both your questions because I'm just great that way! They need delivery boys and if you have a bicycle with a basket, they are hiring a lot of kids. The pay is pretty good, too."
"Not just tips?"
"Nope! I get a wage, bonuses if I deliver a lot and even a raise if I'm there long enough."
The other boys looked shocked but appreciated how clever their friend was.
"So, I did the test and, listen to this," he lowered his voice, "I got TWO entire lights and maybe a little more!"
The same small kid asked, "Is two... good?"
An older kid scoffed. "Sure is! Two is enough to get good job someday. They said it all depends on what my talents are. Maybe I could even fly!"
"Whoaaaaaaaa."
"You can come on and I'll show you around. You might get lucky, too!"
They cut their lunch short and rode after him before they went to their current jobs. "Here's the job listing board. You can see what they have, right?" As he had promised, there was a notice for delivery boys, some for stockers, some for baggers and so on.
But what caught their attention the most were the wages. They were all at least half again higher than similar jobs they were currently working. "C-can we start working today, you think?"
"Nah, they told me to give, ummm, two-weeks notice at my old job. The manager said that was what real professionals do."
While the others excitedly discussed the possibilities, one of the kids just looked at the jobs board. There was one listing for 'artists' of all sorts. Please send examples of your work to any Tanya Mart or place of business to be forwarded to the hiring manager. He fingered his book bag where he had a sketchbook that almost never left his side. He didn't have any formal training but thought he was getting pretty good.
He looked closer at the listing for details and it said both set pieces and story-based works would be accepted. What do they mean by story-based, I wonder? Maybe multiple drawings that tell a story and not just one drawing? I guess something like a comic book? But what to draw about?
Then he remembered his pal, Jerry, wrote science fiction on the side and thought that maybe, the two of them together, could put together something suitable.
If TvD doesn't like, the worst thing that could happen is that we maybe waste a little time. Or maybe sell it to one of the comic book companies. Let me get over to Jerry's house and talk to him!
After a long afternoon of brainstorming, their new comic book, "The Adventures of Argent" was born.
Chapter 105 - Balanced on a point
Chapter Text
[Chicago consulate]
Tanya completed her tasks without meeting anyone personally. While she had other clothing available, she too embarrassed to even have someone deliver it to her. I'll just get this resized quickly and, ugh, purchase more clothes. She generally tried to avoid thinking about her body, as long as it wasn't injured, which is how something like this could sneak up on her. How much longer is this going to keep up?! Even as she was ranting internally, she realized it was a ridiculous complaint. She would grow however her genetics dictated and that was it.
She just hoped her genes knew when to stop!
Sighing, she heard a knock and and Mercedes say, "Your couturiers are here, Ambassador."
Tanya said peremptorily, "Enter!"
The two women came in without preamble. They were Americans that she had discovered to be flexible in their thinking and skilled enough to bring to life the outfits Tanya came up with. Her avant-garde ideas about what women should wear were translated into reality allowing the ex-salaryman to maintain some dignity.
"You asked for us, Miss Degurechaff?" The older of the two smiled politely as the head maid shut the doors behind the two for privacy. The two were laden with the tools of their trade even if this was just to be a quick alteration.
"Apparently my outfits have become... undersized. Can you alter what I'm wearing and get started on re-doing my wardrobe? Apparently, it's unseemly for the Ambassador to wear ill-sized clothing." she said drolly.
"Of course!" The young one started to walk toward Tanya when the young woman activated her magic shield and leapt backwards with her cane in front of her. The shaft was glowing blue, the same color as her eyes.
"First, tell me who you are or my clothing will be the least of your worries!" Her voice was cold as death and even a total idiot could tell she was deadly serious.
The older one laughed softly. "We mean no harm... pardon our intrusion." She dropped her illusion to reveal an attractive face and very pale-blonde hair. "My name is Astrid and this is my sister, Nova."
"Wow, she IS good!" Nova also dropped her illusion. "How did you find us out? I thought we had nailed the appearance of your couturiers perfectly."
Tanya, not yet dropped her shield, said cautiously. "Your illusions are good. The best I've ever seen, actually. But Marge weighs about ten pounds more than you."
Nova looked a little offended. "How could you see that?"
"Not the appearance, the weight. She wears different shoes because she stands all day and the add weight makes the sound of her tread different from yours." She waved toward the 'guest seats' with her cane and said, "You've picked a very unusual method of contacting me. I hope you make this worth my while."
"Of course!" The two women sat down and Tanya sat across from them. Astra folded her hands on her lap. "This is not the first time we've come in contact but there are things you need to know and it's unlikely you'll get the information any other way."
"I've heard of a pair of Legadonian mages... rather unflatteringly called the Witches of the North."
Nova nodded. "That's us! And you're right, how could two cute girls be called something like, I ask you!"
"Having been insulted as a matter of course, you have my sympathies." She decided that the two, if not friendly, at least weren't an immediate danger. "Would you like a drink? Wine, perhaps?"
Astrid was about to demur but Nova agreed enthusiastically so her sister just shrugged and nodded. Nova accepted the glass and said, "You see, it's like we are related. Another pretty girl subjected to such unfair abuse! It's jealousy most foul!"
"Ah, yes." She couldn't help but agree as she was, by any reasonable standard, a pretty girl. "Not to hurry you, but you need to tell me something?" She sipped her wine. "Is this about the runes you've been sending my way?"
Astrid pursed her lips. "Yes... in a manner of speaking." I must never forget she is not just dangerous, but enormously intelligent. It's like talking to an open blade and yet I don't feel worried at all. "There are a number of people targeting your life."
"Is understatement a habit of those in Legadonia?" They laughed at that!
"In addition to random attackers, there is one particular organization targeting you: the Council of Ten."
Tanya narrowed her eyes in thought. "That's the Legadonian cabal that semi-controls the government, right? I understand that most be expensive to hire all those top assassins."
Nova nodded as she refilled her glass. "I know! We don't come cheap!"
The room chilled remarkably and she hastily continued. "We aren't trying to kill you now! Those old fools used up all their chances awhile ago. That's the only reason we can talk to you now. Boy, were they upset when they found out we have completed the contract!"
"As many times as I've been targeted, I don't recall either of you, in disguise or not."
"Oh, we didn't act directly... we just guided others to where you were." Astrid explained how they had 'attempted' to kill Tanya while the ex-Colonel nodded.
"Very clever. It sounds like there's still at least a half-dozen of those fools floating around."
"Well, that's to be expected, yes? I'm sure that's what you expected but for various reasons, we can't tell you who they are. Our little scheme to avoid actually killing you has its fragile aspects. At any rate, we're sure you can handle the others."
"I'll ignore that the fact that you are so cavalier with my life but I suspect you are correct."
"Ahem. At any rate, this wasn't just revenge for the Great War. There is a mystic conjunction approaching and they wanted to influence events in their favor."
"By killing me. Apparently."
Nova nodded. "Yup! You'd be surprised how much you are worth!"
Tanya turned toward Astrid hoping for a more cogent answer.
She cleared her throat. "This is going to be a very, VERY rough analogy." She indicated the coffee table between them. "Imagine the world is a great disk, created with the firmament we live on. It's floating on an axis and as the Powers lay their will upon it, it will tilt one way or another."
"That doesn't sound like all that difficult a concept."
"Ah, there are rules, though. Or rather laws of reality. One of the great laws, that existed before almost all others is that a piece played is a piece laid." She paused, making sure Tanya was following along and then continued. "That means once a Power has influenced the disk, that can never be removed. Influenced, pushed around, even set against each other but not taken off."
Tanya focused on her words carefully. It's an analogy, but a clever one. Let's push it and see how useful it is. "It seems like the balance could get thrown off rather easily. I gather influencing the disk isn't neither easy nor without cost."
"Exactly! Over time, the disk get cluttered, even unstable. That's why the Powers, even the Great Powers are loathe to interfere too much."
"So, having played a piece, they would much rather move those pieces than add new ones?"
Astrid nodded, pleased with her comprehension. "Their own or others."
Oh you bastard, Being X! You've literally been pushing me around! But that tells me I was a big piece, at least. Influencing me even to the point or prolonging a World War. What kind of crazy law makes killing millions less of an influence than a single person? She realized, however, the pressures that caused the war were there even without her. Whatever influence Being X use, Europa was already a powder keg even without his interference. "So I gather you are trying to say that your Council of Ten wants to be a player rather than just more pawns? And they figure by taking me off the board, it will work in their favor?"
"As mortals, we have few ways to change Fate. This is one of them. Very, very, very few people can function as Power, even in the tiniest of ways." Astrid finally took a sip of her wine. "You are one such person. Rejoice!"
* * *
[Berun – High Command]
General Rerugen looked around the table at the surrounding men. Much of the upper brass of the military was there, looking grim. From Zettour, to Rudersdorf, to Ugar, to Romel... if anyone was below the rank of Colonel there, they barely qualified to keep the water pitchers filled and the ashtrays emptied.
Rudersdorf said grimly, "There's no use beating around the bush. We have to do something about the 'Degurechaff situation'."
Romel laughed. "What's there to do? She's always been a wild card and that hasn't changed at all."
Ugar shook his head. "With her resources... it's hard. While she started with our military leftovers, that supply was gone months ago. It helped her start but her current inventory could barely be imagined." He shrugged helplessly. "I've done estimates of the size of TvD and even I don't believe the numbers."
Rerugen added, "That includes personnel. She has the skilled manpower and whatever materiel she needs. If she wants something made, likely she has the staff and wealth to do it."
Zettour, who had been polishing his monocle in thought, finally put it back in place. He put his hands on the table, pushed himself to his feet and said, "Gentlemen, this is ridiculous. Some of the brightest minds in the army and high command are in this room. Surely we can come with birthday presents for one girl!"
* * *
[Frankfurt - Universität Frankfurt am Main]
Around a different table, other men sat... and also one woman. The mood was convivial, though there was less alcohol and tobacco (i.e. none at all). There were two things that made these men smile: Research and money. And this young woman would be providing both!
"Frau Serebryakov, this donation is quite generous. Could you explain the proposal to the rest of the board?"
"Ah, it's rather simple, actually. TvD has been experimenting with combining magic and medicine. We've gathered a few doctors and researchers with flexible minds and mages that are learning medical techniques. We are also lucky enough to have a few physicians that are already mages of various levels."
"Fascinating! Elaborate, please!"
"There are two main areas of research: diagnostics and techniques. As a demonstration, I've brought in one of my colleagues, Fraulein Mandelbaum. She's not herself a physician, but what she's practiced will have obvious utility."
The board was made of money people, physicians and researches. But all of them looked on curiously as the brunette woman gave them a clumsy curtsy. "Pleased to meet you!"
Visha asked, "Does anyone want to volunteer to assist? There's no danger or discomfort but it's certainly invasive. If not, I can do it!" She laughed lightly. "I wouldn't subject you to anything I wouldn't do myself."
One of the older members, grey-haired but rather vigorous looking, stood up. "If you can stand this old fellow, please use me."
The young woman glanced at Visha and then said, "Please stand here. No, no! You don't have to disrobe!" She blushed a bit and stopped the man from removing his clothes.
"Ah, Fraulein! You are spoiling my fun... it's been so long since I've undressed in front of someone so attractive." He shrugged his coat back on with a pleasant grin.
Blushing even more, she touched her computation orb with one hand and the arm of the man with the other. His internal organs were suddenly visible like glowing ghostly outlines.
"Mein Gott!" One of the physicians quickly put on his glasses and examined his colleague closely. "The image is so clear! Even better than those made with Röntgen Rays. You can see everything like you were on the table, my friend." He turned toward the mage. "Can you make organs appear solid as well as transparent?"
"Yes sir. We've practiced a variety of imaging techniques."
"It seems like bone is no hindrance."
"Why not look inside my skull?" The old man quipped. "You've always wondered what was going on inside there... now's your chance!"
"Don't think I won't!" He nodded and the mage moved her magic upward. The phantom skull seemed to grin at the surrounding board members.
Rather eerily, the skull responded. "So, what do you think?"
"Rather remarkable. Remarkable indeed. Even the most delicate structures are visible. I'll let her image me next so you can see." He voice stopped and his eyes narrowed. "Can you magnify that area there?" He pointed.
"Yes, immediately. But the time I can maintain the spell will diminish." The area in his head grew larger until it was considerably larger than the man himself.
"Dominik, didn't you say you had gotten shot awhile ago?"
"Oh, so you were listening when I told those old war stories? Yes, I was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Damned Albanians started fighting and I was caught in the middle. I was at a the thermal baths in Përmet and a bullet came out of nowhere and knocked my noggin! Must have been quite the mess to clean up!" He laughed and then continued his story. "I was unconscious for days, but the local docs managed to keep me alive."
"It looks like they missed a fragment. It's moved over time is my guess and it's dangerously close to a blood vessel in your brain. To be honest, it's pure luck it hasn't cut the vessel and killed you already. We need to get you into surgery immediately!"
Another physician shook his head. "Look at the position, man! Operating would likely do more harm than good."
They argued for several minutes when Visha cleared her throat. "Gentlemen, may I continue the demonstration?"
One of the board members was incensed. "The life of our colleague is at stake here! Please have some sympathy!"
"I realize that but I believe that we can help him." She put a hand gently on his and the huge skull turned toward her. "Our mages can safely remove that piece of shrapnel. Probably."
"Probably, you say."
"It's a novel procedure. We've done it with other parts of the body, but..."
"But not a brain, eh?" He cleared his throat. "Well! No time like the present. Make sure to mention my name when you write your research paper!"
Visha nodded and another mage stepped forward. "Just remain still as the area is sensitive. It's small enough, so we'll be done soon."
"How long will it take?"
"Oh, how long? It's already done." The mage showed a tiny piece of metal in his hand. "I compressed it down to a tiny needle and pushed it out quickly. I used a localized anesthetic spell to stop the pain, though there wouldn't have been much, and another one is providing a little direct pressure on the exit wound. Any bleeding would be done in just a minute given the small size."
"It was quite remarkable to see, Dominik. It left in a flash in much less than a second."
The spell faded to reveal the older man who had a bemused expression on his face. "Well! I came for a meeting and have unexpectedly had my life saved. Still, I believe the meeting was a success, yes?"
With alacrity, the board agreed to create a new school dedicated to Magiemedizin was founded and would become a center for research around the world.