“No,” Karl said. Germany East didn’t have enough working bombs to destroy Germany Prime, not yet. The engineers were working as fast as they could to unlock the remaining warheads, but it was slow going. “I do not believe they would have the nerve to strike one of our cities.”
“Particularly as Warsaw is one of our cities,” Forster said, dryly.
Karl ignored him. “We will take advantage of this pause in the storm to demand their surrender,” he said. “I doubt they have the willingness to continue their advance in the face of nuclear attack.”
“And General Winter,” Jury added.
“Quite,” Karl said. He looked up. “We beat an offensive the enemy threw together in a hurry. It will take them months to ready another offensive — months we can use to prepare our own forces for our return to Berlin, months we can use to further subvert their positions by reminding their people of how good life was before the rebellion. And then we will re-establish the Third Reich and purge the subversives who nearly brought us to our knees.”
He smiled, careful to keep his real emotions hidden. Using the atomic bombs had been a calculated risk — and, so far, it seemed to have paid off — but he knew it would be a long time before his forces could begin the second advance on Berlin. Who knew what would happen in the five or six months it would take to ready the offensive?
“Perhaps it would be better to come to terms with them,” Forster said. “Split the Reich into two.”
Karl blinked in surprise. “You would allow the rebels to go unpunished? You would allow the Reich to fragment?”
Forster stared back at him evenly. “Your original offensive assumed that Germany Prime could be recaptured in a quick campaign,” he said. “You believed that we could go on the offensive and win before the enemy had a chance to recover from the damage to its command network and mobilise the resources at its command. That offensive failed — the enemy not only failed to submit, but also managed to move enough forces eastward to allow a counteroffensive of their own.”
“Which has now failed,” Karl snapped. “The enemy is gravely weakened.”
“Which has failed,” Forster agreed. “But our own forces are weakened too.”
He took a breath. “Do we want Germany Prime?
“Mein Führer, Germany Prime has been infected with liberalism for decades,” he continued. “Men and women have forgotten their roles in life; parents are neglectful of their children, children are disrespectful to their parents. The influx of American products has weakened the heart and soul of the Reich. Do we really want to win the war and spend years purging every last trace of weakness from the body politic?”
Karl took a moment to compose his reply. Forster’s argument was completely wrong-headed, yet it would have a certain resonance in Germany East. Contempt for the weaklings of the west would eventually — inevitably — lead to people asking why they needed to regain control over Germany Prime. And most of the obvious counter-arguments were not ones that would impress the Easterners…
“Regardless of any other concerns,” he said finally, “the border between east and west is too long to be patrolled and sealed. We would need to fear sedition from the west, even if we washed our hands of them…”
“But why?” Forster added. “What is the appeal of blue jeans and hip-hop music to boys and girls raised in Germany East?”
He snorted, rudely. “Let them sink into degeneration, Mein Führer,” he said. “Let them wallow in a cauldron of miscegenation and depravity. Let them watch their American videos and slake their lusts on one another like the animals they are. Our purity will allow us to rise above them, setting an example that they will inevitably come to emulate. We will welcome them back to us when the time is right — and they will come willingly.”
Karl silently promised himself that he’d have Forster killed, the moment he had an opportunity to strike without triggering a civil war. The man was right, damn him; Germany East had built-in protections against subversion that Germany Prime had long-since lost. There was a… vigour to life in the east, an awareness of community — and danger — that had started to decay in Germany Prime. And a respect for one’s elders that ensured that rebellion was impossible. That too had been lost in Germany Prime.
“They are our fellow Germans,” he said, finally. “We cannot allow them to sink into depravity without making some attempt to stop it.”
Forster snorted. “And fighting a war that will hand the Americans mastery of the world?”
“They do not have the will to power,” Jury sneered. “Let them think us weakened, if they wish. We will teach them different soon enough.”
“Of course,” Karl said. He smiled, rather darkly. “They will not be ready for us when we rise from the ashes.”
“Let us hope so,” Forster said. “We may find that we have paid too great a price to reunify the Reich.”
Katherine wasn’t too surprised to discover that the regular complement of guards around the Führer’s office and living quarters had been doubled overnight. Karl Holliston had always been a paranoid man and, with a civil war underway, had excellent reason to be worried about his own safety. She handed her pistol over to the guards at the checkpoint without protest, then submitted to a surprisingly professional pat-down before they allowed her into the waiting room. The guards, it seemed, were more focused on security than exploiting their authority.
And that makes them better than the men downstairs, she thought, grimly. They wouldn’t hesitate to grope anyone who entered their domain.
The thought made her feel sick. She hoped that Gudrun would be safe — she doubted Doctor Müller would dare return to torment his prisoner — but she knew it wouldn’t last. Safe? What safety was there below the Reichstag? Gudrun could be taken out of her cell and shot — or worse — at any moment and she knew it. And, despite her determination, she was on the verge of breaking completely. Katherine had no trouble reading her. She was about to snap.
She looked up as three men walked through the room. Gauleiter Hugo Jury looked proud as he strode through the outer door; Gauleiter Emil Forster and Gauleiter Staff Innsbruck both looked oddly worried. Indeed, they were standing so close together that she would have unhesitatingly declared them to be lovers, if one of them happened to be female. Clearly, they were planning something. Perhaps they were intent on remaining united in the face of the Führer…
“You may enter,” Marie said.
Katherine nodded, rose and walked through the inner door. She hadn’t seen the Führer for several days and she was shocked by the change in him. He looked as if he hadn’t slept for several days, his unshaven face covered in dark stubble. And his blonde hair was shading to grey… she wondered, suddenly, if he’d been dying his hair for the last few years. Blonde hair was considered a mark of good breeding, even though neither Hitler nor Himmler had been blonde. She’d heard that the vast majority of girls in Germany Prime dyed their hair every few days, just to make sure they appeared blonde.
Idiots, she thought. There are far more important things in life than hair colour.