“Beggars can’t be choosers,” Morgenstern pointed out. “And we are beggars. What price our national pride if the nation itself is lost?”
Gudrun frowned, inwardly. Hilde Morgenstern had complained, loudly, about being sent to America. Indeed, she’d even talked about running off before reluctantly submitting to her father’s insistence that she take the flight out of Berlin. For once, Morgenstern had shown actual firmness in dealing with his daughter, something that surprised and bothered Gudrun more than she cared to admit. She knew what would have happened if she’d talked back to her father like Hilde – she wouldn’t have been able to sit comfortably for several days – but Hilde had always been a spoilt brat. Morgenstern was clearly more worried than he wanted to let on about the outcome of the war.
“Holliston will use it against us,” Voss predicted.
“The Americans will soon be sending their spying aircraft overhead,” Brandenburg predicted, dourly. “We may as well ask for copies of the photographs.”
Schulze blinked in surprise. “You can’t stop them?”
“It was never easy to stop those damnable planes while the air defence network was actually fully integrated,” Brandenburg admitted. “The Americans would buzz our network from time to time, sending aircraft over the Reich… all of which were too high or too fast to shoot down. Even when we did hit an aircraft and bring it down, we never talked about it.”
Gudrun frowned. No one had told her that before. But then, the Reich Council would not have wanted to admit that the Americans could fly through the Reich’s airspace at will. Even shooting one or more of the aircraft down wouldn’t be enough to make up for the humiliation of knowing the defence network could be penetrated. No wonder the Reich Council had never levelled that charge against the Americans. It was something that could easily rebound on them.
“They will make us pay an immense price,” Voss predicted, sharply. “Does it not suit them to keep us fighting each other?”
“Yes, it does,” Morgenstern said. He sounded oddly forceful. “But it does not suit them to have an SS-run government in Berlin. They can do business with us, Field Marshal, while they could not talk to Holliston.”
“And bringing the arms race to an end can only benefit us,” Kruger added. “It was pushing us towards bankruptcy even before the uprising.”
“It will make us weak,” Voss said. “And the Americans will take advantage of it.”
“We will still have our nukes,” Rubarth pointed out. “There will be limits to how far they can push us around and they will know it.”
“Oh,” Voss said. “Are you prepared to risk a nuclear war to keep France under our thumb?”
Rubarth looked back at him. “Are they prepared to risk a nuclear war to get France out from under our thumb?”
“Probably not,” Schulze said. “We will talk to the Americans. And if they charge an unacceptable price, we will decline their assistance.”
“We are not in a good position to bargain,” Rubarth commented. “And they know that too.”
On that note, the meeting ended.
Berlin was tense, Andrew Barton noted, as the car flowed towards the Reichstag. A couple of buildings had been blown into piles of rubble – a number of nearby buildings had been damaged by flying debris – but the remainder of the city was largely undamaged. And yet, Berliners seemed torn between fear and a growing hatred and defiance of the SS. The speakers he recalled from the days since the uprising were gone; instead, men were lining up outside recruiting offices and drilling with weapons, readying themselves for the coming onslaught. He smiled, despite himself, as he spotted a number of blonde-haired maidens studying battlefield medicine in one of the parks. They probably wouldn’t be allowed to fight – the Reich rarely allowed women in the combat arms – but they’d be able to do their bit to support the men.
They would have had some practical first aid training in school, he recalled. And all they have to do is build on it.
He rolled his eyes at the thought. There were few advantages to German-style education, but he had to admit that German schoolchildren received a great deal of practical education in everything from cooking to basic medicine and first aid. Indeed, while there were puritans in the states who hated the idea of teaching children about sex, the Reich made sure its children knew the facts of life before they started having children of their own. And yet, none of the textbooks he’d seen discussed contraception. Even condoms were restricted, available only to housewives who’d already had at least four children.
The car rolled into the underground garage and came to a halt. Two armed men stepped forward as the driver opened the door, both wearing body armour instead of the ceremonial uniforms he was used to seeing. They frisked him as soon as he was out of the car, making sure he wasn’t carrying anything dangerous. Security had always been tight around the Reichstag, but now the shooting had finally begun… they’d be twice as paranoid and four times as willing to do whatever it took to keep their leaders safe.
Not that we are any different, Andrew thought, as he was escorted into an elevator that headed upwards as soon as the doors hissed closed. There’s a ring of steel around the White House too.
The doors opened, revealing that he’d been brought to the very highest level. Offhand, he couldn’t recall anyone – even Ambassador Turtledove – who had been invited so high, a sign that the Reich took the matter very seriously. Normally, diplomatic meetings were held in a lower office specially set aside for that purpose. But now… he straightened up as he was shown into Chancellor Schulze’s office. The man looked very tired.
“Chancellor,” he said, in flawless German. “Thank you for inviting me.”
“The invitation was a little vague,” Schulze said. His English was badly-accented, but passable. He’d have been a child when English had practically been a mandatory second language in the Reich. “Am I to assume you are not a simple attaché?”
“Yes,” Andrew said. Morgenstern would have taken his words to Schulze, he knew. There was nothing to be gained by pretending to be something he wasn’t, not now. “I have authority to discuss certain matters with you.”
Schulze’s eyebrows rose. “And Ambassador Turtledove knows nothing?”
“Ambassador Turtledove understands that certain matters can only be discussed under the table, so to speak,” Andrew said. He was surprised that Schulze hadn’t picked a representative of his own, briefed him carefully and then ordered him to handle the discussions. He’d have to consider what that might mean later. “My presence here is completely deniable.”
“One would hope so,” Schulze said. He sat back in his chair. “I am no diplomat, Herr Barton, and I have no time to waste dancing around the issue. What are you prepared to offer and what do you want in exchange?”
Andrew took a moment to gather his thoughts. Schulze had thrown him off, deliberately or otherwise. There was no way to know if it was genuine or a deliberate attempt to appear either unconcerned… or naive. And yet, he had to respect Schulze’s wishes. The United States was in a strong position, but it wasn’t that strong. Failing to come to an agreement might just ensure that the SS won the war.