[Ispagna]
The party was using several private cars (easy enough to arrange when you literally owned the company and the rails under them) but no fanfare. Tanya remained on board during stops, choosing to focus on getting up to speed on the state of the company and of Europa and general.
Felite sighed as she served coffee. "Oh, I miss Le Train de Tanya! These are nice enough but the luxurious touches, the convenience, the comfort! Those cannot be replaced!"
Visha took a sip of the drink. Hmmm... 8 points out of 10. Maybe 8.5? I can do better and I'll make a nice pot later. "It's actually being updated to the new standards and we'll pick it up at a Francois switching station and take it all the way to Berun. It wouldn't do to have old technology on our nice, new rails."
"Well, this train is smoother and quieter... but the amenities! The style! The panache! These are important, too!"
Tanya soothed the trouble waters. "I'm sure the new train will combine form and function commendably. It would be embarrassing to have a train named after me not able to run on the tracks that I built." She sipped her coffee. Not bad, but I hope Visha has a little time to make a pot later. Still, she's a major executive these days and probably doesn't have time for secretarial tasks.
"Will we be stopping along the way?"
"No, this isn't about me this time. Not directly, at any rate. No musical stops but there may be some reporters. In fact, I'd be surprised if there weren't any."
Visha said, "I've set up a few interviews. They know your time is limited so that there'll be at most one per stop."
"That should be fine. Enough to get the word out that I'm back on the continent." She pointed a fresh biscotti at the two. "There are plenty of people that won't want to celebrate my arrival so I need a wave of public acknowledgment and yet not too much. Still, any amount can be useful and we can adjust things after entering Germania."
Felite didn't understand the details but decided that such things weren't important as long as she did her job. What does an interview with a newspaper have to do with traveling? "That sounds complicated."
"The trick to riding an avalanche is timing. And I intend we will be the only ones that know when its going to hit."
* * *
[Excerpts from an article published in Francois periodical Le Temps]
...this reporter was also present during the inquisition of years ago and the differences between the 'criminal' Degurechaff then and Ambassador Degurechaff now were striking. She had grown from an obvious child, no matter how military her uniform, to a delightful young woman dressed more properly as both a woman and a mogul, much less a high government official. Due to her busy schedule, the interview was held on Le Train De Tanya, the rather famous conveyance that had ushered the future Ambassador back to her home country.
…
[LT] We on the continent were quite amused by how you handled the Temperance situation in the Unified States. Was it a problem dealing with such backward ideas?
[TvD] That highlights the potential problems with unbridled democracy. But recall that the law was passed following the proper constitutional methods and it will be repealed via the same processes.
[LT] You seem so certain of that!
[TvD] Americans are an interesting mix of morality and utter practicality. To paraphrase their president, 'The business of America is business!'. The pendulum has swung too far to one side and I don't envision the public to allow such an unpopular decision to last long. Of course, until then, we're quite content to slake the thirsts of those who vote dry but drink wet, as it were.
…
[LT] How do you explain your unprecedented success? After all, you came from the humblest of backgrounds.
[TvD] To be utterly truthful, I'm not doing anything that others haven't suggested or even implemented before just not to the degree we have. No one, before now, has really trusted the theory but I? I had no choice but to believe and gamble.
[LT] That's rather vague... surely you have a small hint for our readers?
[TvD] My team looked for things that were undervalued or underutilized and bought them. Then we used them better and made a profit.
[LT] 'Buy low, sell high'?
[TvD laughing] It's a bit more complex than that! For example, if you see someone hammering nails with a shovel and you buy that shovel to dig holes, then something that was nearly worthless now has a valuable use. Moreover, if the shovel had just been abandoned on the side of the road, then picking it up immediately turns into profit for us. The special trick I bring to that simple idea? I guess it's just the ability to see the possibilities in even the humblest of things.
In a more concrete example, every country has cripples and beggars. Most people don't bother to see them or, if they do, try their best to put it out of their mind. Perhaps they will give out a few coins to assuage their conscience, convince themselves that they are a good person and quickly forget the misery they left behind them. When I see that, I get angry at the horrible waste of it all. Good bodies, good minds... simply rotting there.
[LT] You are upset at those who don't do more?
[TvD] Not at all! That's merely laziness or stupidity, but people should be allowed to do what they want. It's the waste itself, the insanity of it all. There! Now your readers can become as successful as I am!
[LT laughing] I hope they do!
…
[LT] We understand that you intend to visit Arene on this trip. Although exonerated, surely this is an inflammatory action on your part.
[TvD hesitating] What happened there was terrible... but trying to deny that it happened would just compound tragedy of that day. If there's a festering wound, then what it needs is sunshine and care, not neglect. I hope to start that healing process with my visit.
[LT] So you have specific plans to begin this 'process'?
[TvD] Oh yes! I've been given carte blanche in handling the matters of the city. My company has been the primary contributor in rebuilding the city and infrastructure so the Francois government and local leaders have been very welcoming. We are working closely with them to bring this beautiful city back to its full glory!
* * *
[Francois, Arene]
They arrived at the new Arene train station smoothly. The industrial switching station and yard were already updated and in full usage but this commercial passenger area was freshly minted in anticipation of the return of the populace.
While the Feuersturm had not completely destroyed the city, the vast majority of all neighborhoods had enough damage as to make the safety of the structures problematic at best and impossible at worst.
Tanya and Visha were familiar with the changes to the city (at least by plans and reports) but Felite had nothing other than news reports to base her expectations on. And those reports showed nothing but utter devastation, ruined buildings devoid of life. What she saw, now, was worlds different.
"Mon Dieu! The city, it is so pretty!" The architecture of the rebuilt city was drawn from the styles that originally comprised the destroyed buildings but with everything updated to thoroughly modern standards. Wider streets, tree-lined avenues (though the trees were still small, of course), clean and picturesque buildings frequently with flower boxes blooming outside the windows were everywhere. The charm of the old city was preserved without sacrificing functionality and, arguably that charm was increased as there were no slums or 'bad' parts of town. Even the century old sewers were thoroughly hidden along with the power lines that now fully electrified the town.
Tanya was nodding. "Yes, they did a great job. I think Arene will be very popular, very soon." We own all this land because reparations covered all the damages and the Francois government granted it to us as long as we got the rails working again and handled all the reconstruction. I don't think they knew exactly how valuable even a destroyed city on a major transport hub could be.
Visha was all smiles as she had been the chief organizer for this project while Degurechaff was occupied overseas. "We have started to take bids for businesses and residents to buy houses and land and there is a LOT of interest. Given just the inquiries we've received, we could already occupy 70% of the residential and 50% of the business parcels and more are coming every day."
"Is that including the set-asides?"
She shook her head. "No, just the remaining spots."
As they walked through the mostly-empty streets, Tanya commented, "It'll be good when the people finally arrive. Go ahead and expedite that. Essential businesses, employees, and government workers first so that the infrastructure is ready for the remaining residents. Make sure to vet those businesses to make sure they have a plan that will let them hit the ground running."
"We've been requiring they use our logistics team to stock their stores."
"Good idea! Given that we have to fill an entire city efficiently, having everyone do their own shipping would be a nightmare. And this lets them pay their freight charges along with their leases." She looked over her vice-president. "I don't think I'm paying you enough."
"Some organizations are already here, mostly on the government side." She giggled a bit. "They are a bit annoyed that such a pretty-looking city has no places to eat yet! And I make more money than I know what to do with. It's just kind of... piling up right now."
"Let it pile up. Someday, you'll want to buy a mansion or something."
Felite chimed in after listening the two talk rapidly in Germanian for awhile. She had mostly followed along but still was a little confused. "Pardon, but what are 'set asides'?"
Tanya looked up at the clear skies as if seeing something no one else could. "Every survivor of Arene, even if they've been compensated by the Francois government, will be given a home in the new Arene. It's been quite an effort to find them all but we're going to put ads in the Parisee newspapers and some other ones near here to see if we can find the rest."
"We still haven't gotten the ads written yet but we have purchased the spots." Visha said after thinking for a second.
"Let's call it, 'It's time to go home'. Let the lawyers write the text with that theme and I'll approve it but that's the title. The Francois have agreed to grant amnesty for past attacks if they put aside their weapons. Makes sure that's included."
Felite, as a citizen of the Republic, had been on all side of the story. Though insulated from the full extent of the War, she had been horrified by the fate of Arene, had seen the trial, and had come to know Tanya the person. When she heard this plan, she teared up and had to dab her eyes to keep them from ruining her makeup. Oh, oh my! She is reaching out to those poor people and helping them to heal, giving them homes! Who even does that to people who tried to hurt her?! Right then, she vowed to always support Tanya!
Tanya lowered her eyes and smiled. "Let's continue our tour. I believe Miss Claudel is waiting for us." This should shake out the last of the Arene partisans and forestall any lawsuits about compensation. It's great publicity for a small cost and, if any of them try anything... we'll be MORE than ready for them.
* * *
[Francois]
All across the Republic, people were talking about the full page ads placed by TvD. Even the papers that didn't carry the ad, still reported on it (having had a press release given to them with plenty of time so they can write their articles).
The ad was brief, almost stark. Other than the details at the bottom, the message was simple and clear.
It's time to go home
The long, weary, bloody war is done.
The echoes of artillery have faded.
Factories have stopped making tanks and guns.
The battlefields have given over to flowers.
Your beloved home, Arene, awaits you.
Two of the remaining Free Arene members, as it turns out the oldest and youngest met in an abandoned house outside of Parisee. It was a little risky as it was owned by a dead relative of the older man but police has stopped looking for them recently... as far as their contacts would tell them.
"Are we all that's left?" whispered the boy. His eyes, haunted years ago, were sunken into his head now as if he were barely among the living.
"Most of the rest are arrested or missing. A few," he spat on the dusty floor, "have told me they are accepting the amnesty. Bridget was crying as she begged me to come with her. How dare she? How dare she?!" His voice rose to a shriek, scaring the boy.
"What should we do then? We have no money, no supporters any more. It's just... us."
"We take this last chance! Even the most wicked witch will let down her guard down now and then. She can't block us this time." He slapped the paper. "Even she said it, Arene..." He broke down in dry sobs before getting control of himself. "Arene is waiting for us. And Justice will be riding at our side."
Chapter 119 - Flowers, reprised
[Francois - Arene]
Arene was beautiful on the morning of the grand opening. Unlike what one might expect, there were no banners or special decorations; like a fresh-faced maiden, she was just showing her natural charm, unadorned by jewelry or makeup. Both Arene and maidens enjoyed flowers here and there, though!
Many of the commerical businesses were open, so there were many cafes and shops open to cater to the throngs of reporters, dignitaries, and tourists. Many of latter group were curious to see what Degurechaff would do with a 'natural' city after her success with the 'Happiest place on Earth'.
Certainly, TvD's experience in Chicago gave them plenty of experience in creating a living area from scratch. In some ways, they had an even freer hand in Arene as the safest option, for most of the city, was completely demolishing what remained and starting over. So the sidewalks were pleasant, the architecture easy on the eyes and greenspaces were plentiful.
Embedded in this beauty were other things, however.
Dark things.
Sad things.
Shocking things.
Certain buildings, or what remained of them, had been reinforced and preserved. The raw ferocity of that day frozen in time for all to see. Broken, blackened walls, twisted steel, and glassless windows were mute witnesses to the horrors of the past. There were no plaques or commentary. The remains of structures just... existed... leaving observers to their own thoughts.
That was the least of what was presented, though. Knots of people gathered here and there, even quieter than around the other monuments. Two men (one young, one old) gently pushed their way through the small crowd near the edge of town.
What they were looking at was a sculpture.
Behind it was a bas-relief carved into a wall... all grey stone and deep shadows. Seemingly made of ash and soot, a line of haggard figures, heads bowed, trudged out of the city. The detail was minimal, as if a camera wasn't focused on them, but their posture and shapes spoke volumes. A procession of the weary and haggard survivors slouching toward an uncertain future.
The statue, however, drew all the eyes. It featured a boy... too old to be a child but too young to be a man. He stared outward, he faced stained by tears and hatred. His fists were clenched as if he wanted to attack someone and was looking for them with restless eyes. The tense, youthful body ready to strike out at someone, ANYONE, to relieve his pain. The work was so realistic that every curve of his clothes and line on his face were like life captured in time.
The younger man looked at the sculpture, stunned. The sight had stolen his voice and only a strangled, croaking sound could squeeze out. Worried about him, the older man tried to pull him away but found him impossible to move easily. "Come on, we need to go."
"Pier..."
"Hush! Don't speak here." He was able to drag the youngster away and then whispered harshly. "Not my real name, fool!"
Across the street, he finally found his voice. "Th-that's me! She made that damned statue of me! How dare she!" He was quivering with rage and if anyone had looked back, they could have seen its similarity with a glance.
"Get hold of yourself, lad! She's done worse than that!" He grinned a hard, humorless grin. "After we deal with her, that can be your monument!"
* * *
A young couple were touring the new city and, like many, that also visited the exhibits scattered around. They weren't conveniently placed and required a bit of walking. The woman grimaced a bit. "I should have worn my flats."
"If need be, my dear, I will sweep you off your feet," he responded gallantly.
"You've already done that, dearest John." She kissed him on the cheek after taking his arm. "But I will settle for a little break after lunch and swapping footwear at the hotel."
"Your slightest wish is my command, dear Marian."
"I wish... to look at that building!" She pointed down the street. "I think they have another statue, there."
"Judging by the others, I dare say you're right." They walked slowly over and John made sure that his arm was available for his wife to hold onto.
Remains of brick walls stood up like broken teeth and as they peered over them, they could look down into a basement.
A statue of a woman looked up at them. She was kneeling on a rubble-strewn floor below, holding two children against her body so they couldn't see what she could. She was past terror and there was only a resignation on her face as she saw their fate approaching.
Marian held tighter to her husband as she looked at the trio, together forever in death. She felt a tear trickle down her cheek as she stared at the woman who was staring up through the hole those years ago. The mother's hand were clenched and the wrinkles of her children's clothes were as exquisitely detailed as her expression. Marian felt like she could feel her last moments even years later, a wordless message of loss and pain.
"John," she said faintly. "I-I think I need to sit down."
He cleared his throat. "Yes, yes that would be for the best. This way, my dear." He led her to the cafe they saw earlier and order drinks for the both of them.
"Brandy? It's so early?" she asked when she saw what was served.
"Some things require strong drink, love." He held her hand as they sat together, each lost in thought for some time afterward.
* * *
In an intersection, a sculpture depicted a Germanian soldier with a bloody gash across one eye, his helmet on the ground beside him. He was facing another man holding a shovel, his bayonet stabbing into the chest of the Francois native. Both young men were kneeling, obviously close to their last breaths, mirrored in death. Their ages were so similar that it was impossible to tell who was the younger and who the elder though neither had seen even two full decades of life.
* * *
Four townsfolk manned a barricade while one young girl crouched behind it with her hands over her ears trying to shut out sounds that had faded years ago. A closer inspection would reveal the three of the four men were already dead, their bodies propped up to give the resemblance of resistance.
* * *
A pair of lovers were caught under a collapsed building, only half of their nude bodies visible as they shared their last embrace.
* * *
And in the center of it all... the Cathedral.
Somehow it had escaped total destruction. Bullets, bombs and fire had somehow managed to leave the first floor mostly intact. Careful restoration had preserved the ruin for the final tableau.
* * *
Several days after their arrival, Tanya and her retinue finally visited the Cathedral. Certainly they could have gone sooner but there were so many things to do, this was left to the end. Tanya was running down the last-minute checks, mostly from a list in her head. "The bishop abandoned the place?"
Visha nodded. "He seemed quite anxious to, actually. The money and land we provided will allow them to rebuild at their leisure."
"Oh, what convinced him? He seemed a stubborn sort."
The vice-president dimpled. "Welllll... we described exactly how the building had been used during the battle and made sure he knew we would do nothing to disguise that. He sent people to deconsecrate it within 48 hours!"
The young Colonel laughed! "You are getting so good at this, I can retire soon!"
Serebryakov rolled her eyes. "As if you'd ever quit working."
"Why wouldn't I? I'm young, I have some money, wouldn't it be natural?"
She ignored the nonsense she was hearing and continued. "The speakers and lights are ready. We have permanent fixtures set up around the plaza and there are feeds hardwired to where the stage will be."
Tanya nodded. "That should be sufficient. We don't want anything too elaborate. The most powerful messages..."
"...are simple ones, repeated often." Visha finished for her.
"Ha! Apparently I have lectured too often if you can parrot them back to me!"
"Repeated often, right?"
They shared a smile, while the others trailed behind them. Miss Claudel was waiting by the first sculpture. She had had her first good rest in the last week and the dark circles around her eyes had faded and she looked significantly more chipper. "Ah, Miss von Degurechaff! Miss Serebryakov!" She shook hands with them both, her calloused hands out of place when compared to her elegant demeanor and dress. "What do you think?" she asked without preamble.
Tanya smiled. "Better than I could have expected! I'm no artist, but I know what I like and these are powerful. Beautiful. Terrible."
"The magical videos were a great resource though I did take some liberties."
"Of course, this is art, not a newsreel. Having seen what we have, you have our complete trust and I look forward to seeing the rest."
The first was a sculpture of a man in mid flight away from the Cathedral. One foot was raised and he seemed impossibly poised at a 45-degree angle. He was dressed in a Germanian uniform, shirt torn open, but his hands were bound. There were bruises on his face and it was twisted in a rictus of pain. His position caused their eyes to be drawn to the building. In the ruined doorway stood two townsmen, rifles raised and pointed directly at them.
They walked to the building, the gunmen getting progressively clearer. One's face was a mask of hatred, shouting something forever lost. The other seemed horrified by his own actions.
Both of the triggers were fully pulled, fingers tightened, the tendons on their hands clear.
Inside was an even grimmer tableau, the largest of any in the city. One man was holding onto a radio microphone, yelling into it. There were prisoners on the floor, but most were already dead. The last was being held by two men while a third pressed a pistol barrel against his forehead.
Visha, having seen early images, was still impressed. Tanya walked around the figures, staring into their faces, examining them from all sides.
Camille stood by nervously, but only somewhat so. She knew she did a good job, no, a masterful job, but still... the ultimate judge was this blonde girl who wasn't quite an adult yet.
"Miss Claudel..." there was a pregnant pause, "...this is perfect!"
The woman flushed with the praise and merely nodded. "I'm pleased that you're pleased. It's the least I could do for my saviors."
"Don't be modest. This is a great work that will be talked about and studied for at least the next century. You say that we saved you but this far exceeds what small effort we spent to help you." She looked around and cocked her head to one side. "There seems to be... an addition, though? I didn't think the building was so complete toward the back?"
Visha grinned. "It's a bit of a late Christmas or perhaps an early birthday present but the general staff got you a congratulatory gift for your Ambassadorship." With a flourish, she pulled large sections of destroyed 'wall' aside to reveal a cleverly hidden pipe organ. The protective covers swung smoothly open on clever cantilevered mechanisms.
Tanya stepped forward almost tentatively and then ran her hand over the keys. "This is amazing... I don't think I could do it credit without some practice. Certainly not Bach's Toccata and Fugue, but maybe his Little Fugue? Do you have the sheet music for that?"
"We have quite a few!" She dug through a cabinet that had also been revealed and managed to find what she was looking for.
Tanya read over it quickly. I had heard that this a relatively easy one but even so, it looks tricky. She arranged the stops according to the music and then familiarized herself with the multi-keyboard arrangement. After testing the waters with a few chords and then a showy glissando, she started to play.
And, for a few precious minutes, everyone forgot about the ruins and the horrors of war immortalized in metal around them.
The statues were silent and neither the Germanians nor the Francois complained as they bore mute witness.
* * *
A few days later, nearly everyone in the small city were gathered around the wide courtyard circling the Cathedral. In fact, the area had been significantly widened to provide for exactly this venue and to provide a natural point for gatherings and celebrations.
A small stage had been set up. It was just large enough to let someone speak to a crowd easily. Perhaps four people could stand upon it comfortably and there was a microphone set up for use. After many years of speaking in front of people, in two lives, Tanya was quite comfortable on the stage. While her recent growth hadn't been without... challenges... the increased height was quite welcome. That, combined with her boots, prevented her from needing a much taller platform!
The city wasn't nearly repopulated yet, so the wide plaza was able to accommodate everyone. Due to the speakers, all could hear her clearly. "No doubt you are braced for a series of long, boring speeches but you'll be glad to know that you have escaped that fate! I've found that such things make bad times worse and good times less good so we'll eschew that today."
The crowd laughed lightly. Even the food and drink vendors had temporarily stopped hawking their wares to listen. Everyone seemed receptive and in good spirits.
Most of them, that is.
"I'm afraid to spoil the mood but let's talk about history, if only briefly. The philosopher Santayana said, 'Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it.' No one should ever forget what happened here on that terrible day." There wasn't a person who didn't know the history of Arene... who could they? The statues and ruins scattered around the city would make that quite impossible even if weren't for the ruined Cathedral behind her. "I'm not here to justify nor apologize for my part in that fight. We will simply lay out the facts and allow you, and those who follow, to decide for themselves."
Suddenly a voice rang out in the plaza. It carried the timbre of a radio transmission, mild hisses and static overlaid on everything:
"Release unaffiliated members of the general population immediately. We can't allow your slaughter to continue. We demand the release of imperial citizens according to article 26, paragraph 3 of the Rules of War on Land."
The voice of a younger Tanya filled the area. It was higher, younger, and yet harsher as well. There were a few seconds of silence and then the sounds of gunfire came from several directions. Silence again, and then many shots from inside the Cathedral with the last two in the plaza.
Again, Tanya's voice:
"This is a warning for the irregular combatants of the armed revolt. In accordance with article 8, paragraph 5, of the Rules of War on Land, I demand someone meet with our representative to discuss the subjects of the Empire you so unjustly imprison."
For the first time, a voice responded to her. It was more of a shout, filled with hatred and lacked the calmness that Tanya displayed. It was clearer, with less static, as if it were closer:
"We are the citizens of Arene. There are no prisoners. We are just people asking to be free."
Much more quietly, Tanya's voice came to them, almost conversationally as she spoke so someone close to her. "According to the Rules of War on Land, there are no prisoners. All civilians were given the opportunity to withdraw, so there are only unlawful combatants remaining. Commence the bombardment."
There was a long, long silence and then came the sound of many bombers, droning over the city. There was a whining sound as bombs were released... and then silence.
The silence carried on to the crowd, nor did the current Tanya break it. Finally, she spoke in an almost academic fashion. "The initial bombardment used high explosives to break the flammable roofs and open the interiors to the sky. This was followed by incendiary bombs that set much of the city on fire. The immense heat threw a fire into the sky and drew air from the sides, making the heat from the fires increase to a degree never before seen by the hand of man over such a wide area. It was so unprecedented, it was given a new name Feuersturm."
"This!" she raised her voice, startling all of them. "This is what we must never forget! I want to live in a world where such a firestorm is never created ever again! As long as good people never forget, we, together, can stop its repetition."
Tanya scanned the crowd and there were tears in more than a few eyes. "But, even if we remember, the future is always before us and we must nurture it as well instead of simply wallowing in the past. I'd like to share some music with you if I might?"
Eager to escape the tragedies of the past, there was a general consensus in favor!
Tanya was joined by Robert with old acoustic guitar and Felite with a small drum set. They had practiced the songs over the past week and Robert had picked things up very quickly. Felite struggled a bit but her part was relatively simple compared to songs that Tanya could have chosen. Still, she had a sweet voice and help provide backup vocals on some songs.
They started with "Teach Your Children" by CSN&Y. Their harmony wasn't perfect, but the crowd enjoyed the simple, clear lyrics and the blending of their voices. They segued into "What the World Needs Now is Love". A bit 'hippy' but since it's complaining about the ignorance of the 'Lord', I guess it's fine! Now let's move into the second series...
"I'm sittin' in the railway station, Got a ticket to my destination... ...Homeward bound! I wish I was, homeward bound!"
"...'Son', he said, 'Grab your things, I've come to take you home.'"
Tanya was able to keep an eye out as folk songs were rather simple as they were designed to performed by people playing instruments and for audiences to sing along easily. Even while singing, she hadn't completely lost the instincts that had kept her alive for years in a war-torn world.
Asymmetric warfare is more advanced in my old world but some things are universal I guess. She had spotted a figure that seemed to be more interested in the stage than listening to the music. Overly bulky clothing, a long coat despite the clear weather... all of these things pointed to one conclusion. A suicide bomber, huh? Invented a few decades earlier than I recall but humans are endlessly inventive. Shit... there are too many people around and I can't attack him without risking setting off the explosives. I guess I don't have a choice.
She stepped down from the stage as she started the next song. A glance told the others to stay on the stage despite this change of plans. Confused but amenable, the people parted for her. Her voice, even unamplified, was easily heard by all. She sang a capella but this songs didn't lose anything for it.
How many roads must a man walk down
Before you call him a man?
How many seas must a white dove sail
Before she sleeps in the sand?
Yes, and how many times must the cannonballs fly
Before they're forever banned?
The answer, my friend, is blowin' in the wind
The answer is blowin' in the wind
Slowly walking through the audience, she smiled at the people around her, trying not to spook the man into detonating the explosives early.
Yes, and how many years must a mountain exist
Before it is washed to the sea?
And how many years can some people exist
Before they're allowed to be free?
Yes, and how many times can a man turn his head
And pretend that he just doesn't see?
The answer, my friend, is blowin' in the wind
The answer is blowin' in the wind
Finally, she got close to the man, no, the boy who seemed frozen to the spot. She looked him in the eyes and started on the final stanza. "Yes, and how many times must a man look up, before he can see the sky? And how many ears must one man have, before he can hear people cry?"
His eyes dilated and it was like his whole body was listening to her. He tried to swallow but his mouth was dry, too dry. He knew that the detonator in his pocket could destroy the Devil once and for all! But his hand wouldn't move! It was as if it belonged to someone else, someone who wanted to hear her song.
She put a hand on his cheek and he shuddered but didn't move. "Yes, and how many deaths will it take 'til he knows, that too many people have died? The answer, my friend, is blowin' in the wind, the answer is blowin' in the wind." The last notes trailed off like a breeze that, having come through the area, had finally left.
He broke down and cried while Tanya held him tightly. "There, there. You were the boy that left Arene that day, yes? I saw you go, then. Truly, I'm glad you survived and were able to come today." Finally got close enough! That trigger is nothing but scrap now with its wires cut! She wiped his tears with her white gloved hands while he sobbed. "Arene has become beautiful again... are you ready to come home?"
"Yes," he whispered, feeling a huge weight lift from him. He hadn't even realized it was there but he felt that, if she let go of him, he would suddenly start to fly with the lightness of spirit.
Suddenly a harsh voice broke their reverie. "I knew you'd be too weak in the end. You were useless to our dead comrades then, and you are useless now." An older man, all grey hair and wrinkles stood there. He laughed like a sickly crow. "Or should I say, MOSTLY useless!" He suddenly pulled out a gun and shot at the boy and his jacket full of explosives!
...only to stare in dismay as the bullet ricocheted into the air due to the sloped shield Tanya had placed around her and the boy. These amateur fools always think a gun makes them omnipotent.
Before anyone else could move, there was a loud CLANG! And the man slumped forward, dropping the gun. Behind him was Visha with a shovel in her hand and a satisfied look on her face. "Our people have scanned the crowd, Colonel! We think there's only these two."
Tanya smiled, her calm voice likewise calming the about-to-panic crowd. "Don't worry everyone! This was just a small hiccup here today. And I have one more song for you... you wouldn't want to miss that!" She kept hugging the boy that still was festooned with high explosives so she could shield herself and him in case they went off. "I've only sung this song for those who had lose loved ones in Germania but doesn't equally belong to you as well?" She and the others started to sing Where Have All the Flowers Gone while Visha carefully removed the ordinance as quickly as caution would allow!
Chapter 120 - There and back again
[Francois – Parisee – at the end of the Great War]
General de Lugo stared out of the hotel window looking over Parisee. With the signing of the articles of surrender, this was, once again, the capital of Francois. That stroke of the pen turned him from a the leader of the resistance in exile to the head of the military and the de facto head of the government until elections could be held. Frankly, he wasn't enthused about that... those useless parasites were as much the enemy as the Empire.
No, let's right the ship of state before we open those doors again. We'll bring Germania to heel and clean our own house as well. With the threat of the Russy Federation, few nations will block our growth. There will be a Hegemon... it just won't be the Empire.
His aide, who had learned long ago not to interrupt the General, stood to one side. The man, though a driving force in preserving the Republic, had become hyperfocused during the war. Prone to violent outbursts and refusing to listen to anyone, several of his staff had been dismissed and at least one executed for insubordination. Still, there were times where one could interject and the glass of wine in his hand indicated one of those times. "It's pleasant that the great city escaped the horrors of war, eh, General?"
"Escaped you say? No. The buildings survived and works of art not looted but the heart of the city was shaken to its core. Their pride as a nation was stripped from them and we need to reinstill that. Give them back the spirit that was stolen from them even if not a single franc was taken. How do you bring life back to that which is nearly dead?"
"I... I don't know, sir."
"You need blood. Give them a taste of what they lost and they will recover. We won but they don't feel like winners." He sipped his Bordeaux. "We'll feed them a fountain of blood and they will be ready to face the future."
His aide swallowed heavily and feared to ask any more questions.
* * *
[Francois – Parisee ]
De Lugo felt both clearer-headed and paradoxically more lost since the end of the Great War. Since the precise day of the surrender, the driving force behind him had vanished. It was as if a red haze had dropped from his eyes, from his mind. Now it was just him, a ruined country, and a long road to recovery.
The table was surrounded by angry men, all with different ideas. Filthy lickspittles. Lapdogs pretending to be wolves now that the fighting is over. Even the execrable Devil was more man this crowd.
He pounded on the table with a decommissioned grenade to get everyone's attention. At least most of the assumed that it had been neutralized... a fact that had never been confirmed by De Lugo. "Enough."
They instantly silenced, looking to the General.
"We'll amend the reparations. Cut them a few concessions that won't matter in the long run. No matter what else, we need to have the tribunal held here and we need to pull Degurechaff's teeth no matter what her final punishment."
"But these cuts are too generous, General! The reductions to Tier 2 and 3 are outrageous!"
"Dupont?"
"Yes?"
"Shut up while adults are talking."
"Why you...!"
"Do any of you honestly think the reparations will ever be fully paid? Are you THAT stupid?"
There was an uncomfortable silence around the room.
"This is taking them to the brink of destruction. It's not recompense our losses, it's to cripple their country for a generation or three. Have no illusions! We aren't trying to be 'fair'. We are trying to bleed them until they rebel."
"Until they... what?" said one of the younger men.
De Lugo snorted. "They won't suffer under these reparations forever. Sooner or later, they'll decide that another war, even a desperate one, would be better than paying us and the allies further."
"And that's why you want to lessen their burden?"
"Don't be stupider than Dupont. There's no way to reduce the reparations enough to give them any real relief, nor would I want to. We are doing it to force concessions by punching them less and making them thank us for it." He stood and dominated the room immediately with his presence. "Make no mistake, gentlemen, our goal is to force them into a corner, make them break the treaty."
"That's madness, De Lugo!" said a counselor with a stricken look on his face. "The last war was a disaster... millions died!"
"Of course they did! Because we weren't ready to fight a war, and they were! How do you think it would have turned out if those roles were reversed? What if the world cheers US on as we finally bring the Germanian menace to heel? We almost witnessed the birth of a continent-spanning Empire, so why can't we take that mantle for ourselves?"
He paused to let that sink in. "As long as they break the treaty, and we are ready when they are at their weakest, it will be faster than their vaunted blitzkrieg tactics. Their military will be muzzled, locations known to us by this very treaty, and we'll be able to sweep them into the dusty bookshelves of history."
"What about the Devil of the Rhine?"
"Have you been asleep? How could any tribunal let that monster run free? No, we have a very careful plan for her." He gave them a smile that seemed quite, there was no better word, devilish. "Our 'friends' in the Russy Federation will make sure that she won't be a threat. And, once they have tired of her, she will have no safe haven even in her beloved Empire."
* * *
"What are those idiots doing?!" De Lugo yelled at his aide who carefully stood out of arm's reach without making it obvious.
"The Colonel's performance is unexpectedly competent. It seems the prosecutors were counting on her having a poor lawyer with no support and didn't think they'd face her personally."
"That's not the point! They are being led by the nose by a little girl! Are we sure she's not getting outside help?"
"Yes, General. She's under 24/7 surveillance and every scrap of material sent to her is thoroughly monitored. She hasn't even received anything in Germanian, newspapers included. The only places she goes is her cell, the courthouse, and her lawyers office."
"Has he been compromised?"
The aide dismissed this thought. "I can't see how? He's a third tier lawyer working alone. We've monitored him almost as closely as Degurechaff and he lives a rather simple life. He doesn't even have a phone at home, just the one in his office." He grimaced. "Plus he doesn't seem very bright. That was one of the reasons he was chosen."
"You get word out, quietly, that any judges that fail to..."
Just then, a corporal burst in. "General! Urgent news!"
"How DARE you burst in here?!"
"General, please! Free Arene has tried to assassinate Degurechaff! Multiple dead in the courtroom!"
"How is she?" He didn't bother to clarify... there was only one 'she'.
"Colonel Degurechaff is mobile and has been escorted out. We're waiting for more news now."
"Of course. There's no way that would kill her." He waved off his assistants. "Go. Find out what's going on."
Once left alone, he cracked open a bottle of the strongest brandy he owned and swallowed a tall glass of it, hardly taking a breath during the drink. If feels like she is directing all of this, but how? How?! This attack is at the worst time... it gives the wavering an excuse to take the coward's route.
The long day provided him no answers, nor the long night afterward.
* * *
De Lugo wasn't terribly surprised when there was another attack in the prison. And he absolutely wasn't surprised that she had survived handily.
His intelligence agency, even after a brutal investigation, had no luck finding her allies but the ruthless hunt continued. I will find them. I will eliminate them. And then... then we'll finally get rid of that monster!
* * *
The meeting was secret as, even though it was a semi-open secret that the trial was a farce, they had to preserve the illusion of propriety.
The Albion judge shook his head. "I understand your position, but it's out of my hands."
"How can it be out of your hands?" De Lugo looked red-eyed, restless, as if he was barely keeping his temper under control. "You're one of the judges! Just vote the right way!"
He sighed and tapped the ash off of his cigar before indulging in another puff. "At this point, there's nothing I can do. Not only do I have a suggestion from back home, the prosecution's case is in a shambles. I have to admit, I'm shocked by their incompetence. Frankly, I assumed this would be a simple matter but those fools – YOUR fools – have made it hard for me!"
"You dare say there are no options?"
"Now, she's far too sympathetic a figure. Damnit, man, it was handed to the Francois on a silver platter! To kill her now would be like burning a modern Joan of Arc and I adamantly refuse to wear that label for the rest of my life!"
"She's a monster! She's no hero!"
"Yes. She. Is! You made a her a hero! I don't know how those Free Arene fools, the crooked guards, and the dimestore prosecutors were involved, but they ruined the narrative and thus I have no choice."
De Lugo clenched his fist. "It's not a story, it's about justice."
"That's where you're wrong. It has always been a story. A very, very sad story with a twist ending. Whether it's a tragedy or a triumph depends on your point of view, I suppose. To the world, and even to many of your countrymen, she is no longer the Devil of the Rhine. She is just a persecuted little girl, used by her own country, bearing the ire from the rest of the world, and hounded every step of the way. Forgive me if I choose not to throw myself on the fire you've built for her."
There was a half minute silence before the judge continued. "When she gets back from her little vacation, you probably know how the vote will go. Otherwise, you wouldn't have visited me in the dead of night. I've made my decision, as have my peers. This delay is simple window dressing to make it look like we are deliberating but surely you realize that we are done." He shook his head. "You're known for coming up with clever plans, bold plans, but in this case I'm advising you to give up. If you want to do something, try something new in the future. Your part in this story is done and you either stay in and become another villain or you bow out and become a footnote."
The General left quietly and the judge remained awake just until his cigar was done.
* * *
As predicted, the judgment ended in acquittal.
* * *
Despite the Degurechaff situation, De Lugo still had his work. He saw Tanya being championed and remained silent. He heard about the attack and made no action. He signed the papers that officially handed her back to Germania (now a republic and no longer an Empire.) He oversaw the maintenance of the surrender terms and the strict adherence to the reparations schedule. While guiding Francois toward recovery, he watched as TvD became ever more integrated into his country, both economically and culturally.
He saw... and did nothing.
Carefully, Francois rebuilt their military but De Lugo found less and less support for the expense. Perhaps it was because they didn't want to think about war during this new peace but for the most part, they didn't see the need that he saw all too clearly.
Finally, with little fanfare, he left his position.
Frankly, the civilian governors were glad to see him go. He was too much the warmonger, too insistent on military spending and, most of all, far too powerful in the government both in the military and civic matters. He was on the cusp of becoming a dictator in their eyes and many sighs of relief were herd in Parisee after his resignation.
Oh, of course they gave him every military honor imaginable but he barely paid them any attention. Beyond giving a few last orders to his subordinates, it was as if he had vanished.
* * *
[A ship heading to Afrika]
A man who had once led a mighty army looked out over the ocean. The driving force of the past decade was... missing. Some spirit was gone from him, vanished like dew when the hot morning sun came over the horizon.
He had lost something and perhaps he was looking to find it again in Afrika. He wasn't sure why he needed it and, frankly, he wasn't sure if he really wanted it. But lacking a path, he though this was as good a course as any. He had found his way in the dark continent before and perhaps it held more answers for him now.
The endless waves stretched before, hiding everything, and promising nothing. He was satisfied with that as he no longer trusted promises; even those he made to himself.
Chapter 121 - Quiet wheels
[Francois - Arene]
With the perpetrators in custody (fortunately the police department was one of the essential services and so was ready to handle the task) the rest of the day was much more peaceful. Unlike some public figures, Degurechaff had no problems mingling with the crowd, chatting about her music or the New Arene.
An ardent music fan gushed, "Those songs... are they all new?"
She smiled, "It's the first time being performed except for one of them. A lot more people will hear them in the future, though."
"Oh, why is that? If I may ask?"
"I'm setting up a foundation for Arene and orphans of the war. There will be a largish orphanage in Arene and all the profits of the album from these songs will be donated to that cause. I'm also allowing anyone to make their own versions of the song free of royalty payments."
"Goodness! That's rather generous as these songs are superb."
"Oh, I'm going to suggest that they donate a portion of their proceeds to the foundation or at least mention it if they play it live. There may be quite the cumulative effect if everyone is mentioning the plight of those children. I won't enforce anything, however."
A reporter interjected. "What are your plans for Arene in general?"
"Plans? No, it's more like I have a vision for Arene. If you squint your eyes, there's not much difference between Germania and Francois, or the Commonwealth, or Idola" Her eyes twinkled, "I have more in common with a Francois private than the Germanian nobility despite my title. The experiences, the hopes, the complaints about field rations... oh, yes, we are far more alike than different!"
She pointed at the town. "The reason so many fought over this little city is because it's ideally placed as a rail hub. Can't you also see it as a hub of commerce? With peace in Europa, it should become an economic powerhouse right here in Francois."
And since we own over half the town and all the railyard, it will be OUR powerhouse. Much better than ordinance and fires... we'll conquer with logistics and mortgages! She gave them a smile that no one interpreted properly.
And, truth be told, the report and the other people listening could easily imagine the vision she described. They saw streets full of happy people, thriving businesses, and visitors from all over the continent. My word! the reporter thought. She's single-handedly bringing this ruined city back to life... even better than before! Perhaps the good rumors about her are true... if I can't trust my own eyes, what can I trust? He felt ashamed of the decidedly anti-Tanya stories he had written before, during, and after the trial. He vowed to balance the scales with his future articles!
After about an hour of chatting, Tanya said, "I was going to play on the organ for a bit, if you would like to to hear. It's not my preferred instrument but I practiced for a few days and I have some passable songs."
A bit surprised, but pleased, crowd followed her for the mini-concert. The playing wasn't perfect but everyone generally enjoyed the impromptu performance.
Someone who could hear the music was a woman in a pleasant apartment overlooking the grand plaza. The furniture was new but there was a lack of personal touches. Her heavily lined face traced a story of grief but there was, perhaps, a slight lightening of her features... a modicum of peace there.
Unexpectedly, there was a knock at her door. She continued to sit at her window, hands folded on a lap blanket. Not bothering to move, she just said, "Enter, please."
A young man entered quietly and closed the door behind him. "Hello."
"Ah, Adrien. Come, have a seat. You can hear the organ from here."
"Should... should you use my real name?"
"All secrets have been revealed, now. Why maintain the pretense?"
He sat down and listened with her for awhile. "She good, isn't she, Sophie? I'm no judge but I think so."
The woman nodded. "She is. With some practice, she could be truly great at it." She looked at her hands. Once they had been used for music but she forced herself to stop thinking about that. "I'm surprised you are not imprisoned. Didn't they catch you?"
"Mdme von Degurechaff called and convinced the authorities that I had accepted the amnesty and had been 'forced' to work with Piers. I spent maybe twelve hours in the jail." He thought back. "It was a rather pleasant place other than him yelling at all hours. For an old man, he has a lot of energy."
They shared a laugh about that and then were silent again. "So what are your plans now?"
Adrien shook his head. "I don't know. I have no real skills and I feel... broken inside. What should I do?"
Sophie looked out the window and said, "All I can give is the advice that someone told when I first came here: When you can't help yourself, help someone else. Do that enough and you might find your own salvation."
"Help someone else?" He thought about this deeply while they listened, enjoying the sweet-smelling and slightly warm breeze coming in from the window. "I'm not sure how to do that, either."
"You should look around. You have your voucher, yes? So have a place to live and your expenses covered for a year. Take the time you've been given and use it well."
"Thank you, Sophie, I'll do that." He left and closed the door quietly behind him.
Adrien spent several days looking at the city with fresh eyes. It was almost familiar and, if he didn't look to closely, he could almost lose himself in the fantasy that the city had never fallen. The buildings had a familiar style but the people were different. The old spirit was just gone. There was a new spirit... a younger one, hopeful and bright, but still not the same.
He wandered away from the main streets to the areas under construction. Obviously, the engineers had focused on the essential areas first while completing the rest off to the side in preparation for new immigrants and businesses. Even while the opening events were occurring several blocks away, construction continued just out of sight. Still, the streets were navigable and there were no restrictions on him walking down them, watching the activity.
Near the transition to a thin suburban zone, there were some businesses that required cheaper, more plentiful land before it went to the industrial and agricultural areas. Adrien saw a young woman sweeping the stoop in front of a dust-covered non-descript building. She was garbed in a shapeless dress with a large kerchief over her hair and a cloth across her mouth. Curious, he went over to her and said, "Hello, ma'am."
She seemed surprised by the greeting. "Oh! Sorry, we aren't ready to accept visitors yet."
"Visitors for... what?" He looked around, puzzled."
She put a hand on her hip. "Isn't it obvious?"
"Well, no, I'm afraid not."
The woman pointed at a sign that was a uniform grey color. "Well the name is... oh, goodness!" She took her broom and brushed the dust off to reveal the name beneath: L'école Avancée de Tanya.
"Mdme von Degurechaff... named this school after herself?"
The woman's eyes twinkled as she laughed. "Oh, no, no, no! She merely provided the land and building. We staff named the school after her. The primary school is named 'Tanya' and the upper grade school will be called 'Degurechaff'. Cute, huh?"
"Yes, I guess so. It seems like a lot of work."
She sighed and nodded. "The others are doing errands now and all the construction has coating the entire area with dust! One good rain would help but this dry spell..." she shrugged helplessly.
"Would you like some help? I'm no teacher but I can use a broom at least."
"Oh, I couldn't ask you to do that!"
"No need to ask, I'm volunteering. Besides, I'm between jobs right now and could use something to do."
She removed her mask and shook his hand (after wiping it on her already-dusty dress). "Welcome aboard, then! I'm Béatrice."
She's pretty cute! "I'm Adrien. Pleased to meet you!"
* * *
[Germania – Berun]
A man in a plush office asked his subordinate, "We have confirmation they are both out of the country?"
"Yes, sir. Arene of all places."
He steepled his fingers together as a smile crossed his face. "That should have been her grave back then but I guess this works just as well. Tell them to begin the plan."
"Now, sir?" the man asked, startled.
"Of course! There's more than one way to bleed and we need to start cutting." Herr Bruning smiled widely as if imaging the knives coming out.
* * *
[Germania]
Even with both Degurechaff and Serebryakov gone, the wheels of TvD continued to turn. Researchers came up with new inventions, crops were grown, deals were organized and items were made as if they were still there. By design, the divisions of the business, and the individuals working there were almost completely independent.
Years ago, Tanya was asked about this business model and she just laughed and said. "Ideally, if someone were to come along and break up the company, then each piece would grown into its own company. Like an earthworm or starfish, the more it's cut apart, the more of them you get. Or, if you want to be more dramatic, like the mythical hydra, each head cut off will grow two more."
Visha didn't bother asking 'Why?' as there was always a reason. Instead, she asked, "How does this help?"
"It's like the modern staff military... giving your subordinates more leeway, but with clear GOALS, is the same as multiplying yourself. There isn't one Degurechaff, there are dozens. There isn't one Serebryakov, but hundreds. You can't attack a cloud with a bullet, or an idea with a sword. When you get down to it, we are spreading ideas of a better world and how to implement it."
So the wheels continued to turn and plans laid continued to advance quietly, out of sight, and with nary a ripple detected anywhere.
* * *
[Germania... many places]
All over Germania, police officers approached many businesses armed with a new law in hand. Most of them were wooden-faced and those who weren't had conflicted expressions. Certainly the officer walking up to his local Tanyamarkt seemed uneasy.
"Oh, Jorgen!" the clerk said as he came in. "Did you get off early today? Your shift ends at four, right?"
"I'm sorry to say that I'm here on work, Marta." He pulled out a piece of paper and said, "This store is hereby closed for business until the charges laid forth in these charges are resolved by the parent company, TvD." He looked tired just after reading that simple sentence.
She patted his hand. "Poor thing! I know that was hard for you. Can you help close the shutters? You'll need to post that notice, yes?"
"I do... but how did you know that?"
"Oh, we got a memo a few weeks ago about this so we could get ready."
The storm shutters were thick, wooden things but they could be maneuvered into place with some help and hung down over the windows using hidden latches. "Make sure the red side is out."
"Why's that?" He turned around the shutter and saw a big announcement. "This Markt shut down by greedy politicians, see notice below." There was a rectangle the perfect size to hold his official notice and there was even a frame to keep it protected from the weather. "You are uncommonly prepared, Marta."
She laughed! "Not me! We have our instructions. It'll be hard but..."
"But?"
As they were talking a woman with a large basket came up and looked at the sign. She suddenly started crying and staggered backward.
Jorgen managed to catch her before she fell and supported her while she sobbed.
"Oh! Oh, what will I do?" Her voice was heart-rending. "I can't afford to buy food anywhere else. What will I do? What will I do?!"
Marta hugged the woman. "Don't worry, we'll help."
She looked up with reddened eyes with a trace of hope. "How?"
"Come, let's fill your basket."
Looking very reluctant, officer Jorgen interrupted. "I'm afraid I can't allow you to conduct business..."
"I'm giving away the food, not conducting business. Surely that is within the law?"
He pushed up his cap and nodded. "Of course it is. Please, do what you can for her." As the ladies went in the store, he called out. "Oh, what were you about to say?"
"Say? Oh! I was going to say it'll all work out in the end... it always does, right?"
Chapter 122 - Editorial
Chapter Text
[Germania]
A press release had been sent to every major paper, government office, and certain others outside of Germania. It was quite lengthy and certain publishers had been 'encouraged' to print it in its entirety and without commentary.
"Our beloved Fatherland has suffered greatly, both from the Great War and the burden of reparations. To meet these challenges, we need to pull together, each doing their part to support the country that has birthed and nurtured us..."
"...and in the period of bitter peace, there have been many issues to deal with and chief among them are the scourge of war profiteers and how they are draining the very lifeblood of our nation..."
"...no person and no company can be allowed, or WILL be allowed to profit on the backs of the suffering people of Germania, hoarding blood-soaked gold in secret vaults..."
"...as a people, as a country, as a proud nation we must stand against the parasites that are stopping us from achieving the greatness we deserve. This legislation is the first, and best, step to righting the wrongs of the past few years and bringing prosperity, once again, to the Fatherland!"
* * *
[Germania]
Shielded from both the war and the downturn in the economy, former nobles still got together in their homes and salons to discuss the affairs of the day. If there were somewhat fewer of them than a decade ago, no one made mention of it.
A lady whose name would be recognized easily in Germania was speaking to her equally high-born friends. The men were also there but in a separate room talking amongst themselves. Both were discussing the same thing, however.
"So, they are finally progressing against von Degurechaff legally. I wonder that they have the courage as she has some popularity."
One of her friends, who was fond of taking the contrary side, said, "Oh perhaps a few years ago when she was a war hero or a 'little girl' under fire, but now? The world is her oyster while people live on the streets. She creates businesses every week while century-old firms fail. Envy is the watchword for the day."
Another woman countered. "She still has deep ties to the military, however. Not a force to be trifled with, all things considered."
"Are they really, though? They were rather gutted by the surrender and treaty."
"Smaller, but never powerless if they chose to use that power."
One of the younger women said, "Won't this cause fear among industrialist and magnates? Surely they fear they would be next."
The high lady raised a gloved finger. "Yes, they want her gold... they want it like a wolf thirsts for live meat. They think she has enough to satisfy their ambitions and needs for long enough they don't have to dip into this particular well again. But perhaps more than that, they hate her. She makes them look incompetent, or worse for such prideful men, foolish. No, they'll gut her companies but what they will celebrate is her destruction."
* * *
[Germania]
A trio of out-of-work workers were spending what little they had on the cheapest beer they could find. As per their habit, they were complaining... about the lack of jobs, about the government, even about the weather when nothing else came to mind.
"Did you hear they shut down TvD?"
"Huh? What part?"
"All of it!"
A third man just grunted. "Serves them right. Greedy bastards."
"I'm not sure what you mean."
He pointed at the others with a dirty finger. "How long has it been since the War? How does a girl go from a tiny pension to richest person in Germania? She has businesses all over the world! She maneuvered her way to become Ambassador and is living the high life in the Unified States. I better she drinks champagne with millionaires and presidents every day! Mark my words!" He slammed his mug on the table only to curse as some of it splashed out.
His friend rubbed the stubble on his chin. "That makes some sense. It's odd that they are doing so well when times are hard."
"Exactly! No one gets that rich without being dirty, really goddamn dirty."
"It's a shame, it is." He took a swallow, nursing the rest of his beer. "Where are you looking for work next?"
"I dunno. I might have to go overseas. Rumeli, Idola, maybe even America."
"You can't drink in the Unified States anymore, you know."
"What?! Well, that's off the list!"
* * *
[Germania – Zart factory]
The factory head was holding an all-staff meeting. The women around were nervous, some bordering on panic. This job was the only thing keep most of them from poverty and food on their tables.
"First, I want to tell every to be assured that no one is getting fired, no one is being laid off, we are not even reducing hours. We might need to be more flexible in what we do but we take of our own and I don't want any headless hens running around!"
They chuckled a bit at that, even if a bit nervously.
One woman raised her hand. She had been with Zart from the beginning and was steady as a rock as befitting her graying hair. "Can we ask how that's even possible? TvD undoubtedly has reserves but a company cannot continue without being able to sell product."
"That makes good sense and thank you for asking that. We are in an interesting place and we will be more circumspect for awhile until the situation is resolved. First, we cannot allow conversion of Kredits to marks until we can actually GET marks once the company is fully open again. But, thankfully, our production facilities are diverse enough now. You can buy food, clothes, housing and pretty much all necessities through TvD with those Kredits."
"What about other things, though? Can we pay for a doctor or a hairdresser?"
"Actually, that's what I wanted to talk to you all about. What we can't do now, we can do in the future. For example, Olga, you are pretty good at doing hair, right? So, as we need fewer people on the product line but we DO need another service, why not do that instead? As for doctoring, wouldn't just hiring a physician to be part of TvD be sufficient? Is there much difference between being a freelance doctor and a company doctor except that you'll use your company account rather than regular money."
One of the younger workers tilted her head to one side. "So it's just like normal, but we can only go to other TvD employees?"
"It will take time to grow enough but, basically, we aren't bound any more." She smiled with a tiny bit of malice that she hid well. "In fact, you might say we have been freed."
* * *
[Germania - Berun]
Profesur Wagner, Profesur Heidl, and many graduate students were working long hours as they desperately compiled their data. Men that had previous only thought they were tired before were dragging their weary bodies around the room.
The two in charge were blissfully unaffected by the organized chaos around them as they sipped coffee to one side of the room while the rest worked. As compiled data was presented to them, they related it to theories and formulas that they had created but never had the chance to use. In fact, they rather prayed to never have the need to use.
Working separately, they would check each other's work and discuss about how they matched the models they had created. Wagner was looking at the master list. "So we agree that models A, B, D, F1, F2 and Z are all incompatible with the data?"
Heidl nodded. "Alas, yes. I had high hopes for F2!"
"Hopes aren't reality, my friend. Of the remaining ones, maybe E1, E2 or G seem the closest."
"Let's re-work the teams and set up models for testing the current data."
Wagner clapped his hands. "Everyone, take an hour break! We will continue after that!" He had expected that they might get food or perhaps go for a smoke break but most of them simply collapsed in place and the room was soon filled with snoring students."
"Perhaps three hours might be better?"
"Bah, they are young! But two hours isn't entirely unreasonable."
They ordered food and made a fresh pot of coffee. A hundred and twenty minutes later, the Profesur called out, "Okay, up, up, you lazy things! Eat and get back to work!"
They broke the students into three teams so they could analyze the data in parallel. Many more cups of coffee later, and they had their answer. Heidl addressed the exhausted students, "First, good job, all! It's been a long three days but well worth it. For now, we will move ahead with model F2." The second team gave a ragged cheer as their work was accepted.
"We've input the numbers and, by our estimations, the overall productivity of the nation has reduced 18% and is continuing to decline. TvD has captured 46% of the Germanian market. This is partially through growth, international trade and the unfortunate contraction of the other sectors."
While gathering the data was lengthy and some of the calculations were esoteric, all of them were able to draw conclusions at this point. One student broke the reverie. "That means TvD is entirely self-sustaining, isn't it? Even if you exclude the foreign trade, they can grow internally."
"What of the rest of Germania, then?"
The silence stretched for far longer this time as they considered the story the numbers told.
* * *
[Germania]
Walter was reading a local paper as this wasn't a publishing day for Degurechaff's newspaper. The announcement from the government was... odd. He hadn't heard about any big criminal cases or scandals recently. Had he missed something?
"Honey? Where are my old issues of Die Wahrheit?" He called out to his wife.
"I think they are in the study? Look to the left of the bookshelf." Her voice floated in from the garden, barely audible inside the house.
He levered himself out of his reading chair and ambled over to the old newspapers. He didn't keep old papers as a matter of habit but the quality of Die Wahrheit and the pictures it features made him reluctant to just throw it away. He was satisfied with this justification as he started looking through the news sections starting with the most recent.
"Ah, is this it?" He was re-reading an opinion editorial from a few weeks ago, possibly penned by Degurechaff herself (the editorial opinions were never signed).
The current administration is notoriously incompetent. They are mostly holdovers from the war years where their poor decisions turned a hard-won (albeit painful) victory into a terrible rout and humiliating defeat that we are still paying for to this very day.
To compound their terrible policies, they acceded to reparations that are literally destroying this country, one mark at a time. A nation cannot function without gold just as a person cannot function without air. And those reparations are steel hands around our throat, only to allow a gasp every now and then only to allow us to suffer just long enough to ship them another crate of confiscated family treasures or trainload of coal torn from Germanian mines.
We at Die Wahrheit predict that, having failed in their essential duty of protecting the country and working toward the common good, will resort to drastic measure. They will specifically target companies and people that have managed to recover and grow and will rob them of their treasure just as they've taken the heirlooms of your families in exchange for worthless paper.
Once they robbed the richest, at the point of a gun if necessary, they will go for the not-quite-as-rich, and then at the not all rich, and then to the destitute. Their friends and cronies will escape this robbery, but not so the common man. Look soon for the laws, the shackles, and the theft to begin.
They will try to silence us... and you... and it is incumbent on all free Germanians to stand against tyranny even if comes with the mask of the Fatherland.
"Hmmm... is this what she was talking about. It seems to line up." As he looked for more clues, Gustav came into the room.
"Walter, did you hear?!"
"Since I don't know what you are speaking about, how can I tell?"
"The government... they've shut down TvD. All over the country!"
Walter silently handed his friend the editorial he held. Gustav scanned the paper and then looked up. "So, this is it."
"This is it. Mein Gott."
* * *
[Germania]
All over the Fatherland, doors were closed, windows were shuttered and lights were turned out. The notice from the government, however, was lit at every TvD business for everyone to see.
And, behind those closed doors, business proceeded. Perhaps not as usual, but proceed it did.