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Hitler swore violently. “Gott in Himmel,” he bellowed. “Stalin will be at our throats!”

“That is quite possible,” Speer acknowledged, as soon as Hitler had calmed down. “For the moment, they are engaged in the Middle East, but they are quite capable of fighting both us and the British at the same time.”

Himmler coughed. “Then we need to take the resources from them,” he said calmly.

“At the moment,” General der Infanterie Hoth said, “our armies are not prepared for such a campaign.”

“Then we will play for time,” Hitler said. Adversity, as always, forced his mind to work harder. “How long will it take to prepare the armies?”

“Around six months, if we’re lucky,” Hoth said. “Mein Fuhrer, we will be gambling everything on success.”

“Then we will continue to support the Russians in the Middle East, for the moment,” Hitler said. “Gaining control of the oil wells near Turkey would certainly help our problems… and we certainly don’t want Stalin to get to them first.”

The argument ran long into the night, discussing the war, the future, and the American declaration of war. Finally, Hitler was convinced to agree to a particular war plan, reluctantly. The council agreed to the plan – knowing that they had no choice.

HIMS Yamato

Japan

5th October 1940

Admiral Yamamoto looked up at the sword, hanging from the wall, and knew that he didn’t dare use it. Minoru Genda and Takeo Kurita had already taken their own lives; the humiliation of knowing that only the British Admiral’s reluctance to slaughter thousands more Japanese had saved some of the fleet had led both of them to their deaths.

Damn you both for dying when I needed you, Yamamoto thought angrily. He wanted to die himself, knowing that if he did end his own life, he would be handing the government over to the militarists. The defeat, and the loss of thousands of lives, had cost the Navy a great deal of its influence, even with the conquest of the Dutch East Indies nearly completed. Talking the Army out of attacking the Philippines, in response to Hitler’s demand that they join the war against America, had been a very near failure; he’d finally refused to transport the army units across the sea.

“The battle was lost, then?” Ambassador Yurina said. Yamamoto glared at her, feeling a complex mixture of hatred and affection. “They destroyed the fleet.”

“The battle was a strategic victory,” Yamamoto lied, and heard her chuckle. It was a deep throaty sound, nothing like the quiet giggles of court girls. “Yes, we took a pounding, as you put it, and…”

“How many carriers were sunk?” Yurina asked. “How many battleships?”

“Four of each,” Yamamoto said grimly. The losses had been appalling; the four most powerful carriers in the world had been smashed like flies. Still, they’d had one piece of good news; it clearly took more than one torpedo hit to sink a battleship. “Ambassador, we have awakened a sleeping giant.”

“As long as the Americans don’t declare war, you might have a chance at winning a draw,” Yurina said. Yamamoto didn’t believe her; she’d preached inevitable defeat before. “Still, you should sue for peace.”

Yamamoto lowered his head, wishing that he could get drunk on sake and forget about the world. “They won’t,” he said. “They look at the victories in the Dutch East Indies and the successes in Burma, and they ignore the defeats, even though both defeats are of greater significance than the victory.”

He closed his eyes and felt hands falling on his shoulder. Yurina dug her hands in, massaging her shoulders. Yamamoto thought once of his wife, way back in the family home, and gave himself up to her caresses.

* * *

Yamamoto slept on the stateroom bed, an older man watched over by a younger woman. Yurina sighed; even the Japan of 2015 had often required that ambitious women use their bodies for advantage, and she knew how to do it. Even when she’d passed into heights beyond which her sex no longer mattered, she’d kept up her skills; she’d used all of them in the last hour.

Yamamoto hadn’t been bad, not in the sense of an older man unable to get it up, like some of the men she’d had to sleep with. His guilt over betraying his wife had been charming; she’d almost cried herself. Eventually, like most men who were suddenly exposed to the joys of an unashamed woman, he’d given himself up to her, but he felt guilt.

Why did I never get anyone like that? She asked herself, or perhaps God, as she watched him sleep. Men were so predictable; show them some flesh and give them what they wanted, and they would do anything for you.

She shook her head. She had no choice, but to play the cards she had – for Japan’s future lay in her hands. If she failed, Japan would be burned to the ground, again.

The White House

Washington DC, USA

5th October 1940

“A pretty impressive video of a weapon,” President Roosevelt said, as the film of the destruction of the German oil wells concluded. “How long until we can develop such weapons for ourselves?”

“At least two years, Mr President,” General Groves said. He was a stout heavyset man, with an air of a bulldog. Ambassador King was impressed; Groves hadn’t reacted at all to his colour. “Although we have the plans of… my counterpart’s original work, building the equipment is going to take time, the more so because we have had to… ah, remove a number of key scientists.”

Roosevelt nodded. “I can’t think why they would not turn the weapons on the Germans directly,” he said. “How many do they have?”

“Mr President, don’t start a nuclear arms race,” King said grimly. “They’re concerned about blasting Germany off the map, literally. I cannot explain how the anti-nuclear feelings got into modern society, but they did. Everyone is convinced that using nukes will cause the end of the world.”

Groves frowned. “It’s a weapon,” he said. “What’s the point of building a weapon that we will not use?”

Roosevelt shook his head. “Our priority is to develop our own, for possible use against the Germans, the Japanese or the Russians. General, I want private updates on progress, whatever happens.”

“Yes, Mr President,” Groves said, and left the room.

“So, Ambassador, we are at war,” Roosevelt said, as soon as they were alone. “Do you think that the Japanese will jump on us?”

King, somewhat regretfully, shook his head. “After the British wasted a chunk of their fleet?” He asked. Roosevelt, who knew something about the sea, scowled. “They still, in theory, have the ability to hit the Philippines, but Macarthur is digging in and the longer they wait, the stronger we get.”

Roosevelt scowled. “Between you and me, we have to enter the war,” he said. “Preferably before Macarthur gets himself shot in the back or something. We can’t keep pouring troops in now we’re going to be committed in Europe, but we can keep some elements of the fleet at Pearl, on constant alert. Perhaps the Japanese will save us the trouble of declaring war on them. If we keep sending supplies to China…”

“A waste of time,” King said softly. “Mr President, both sides in the morass of Chinese politics are hopeless. The Communists will give the nation to Stalin, given half the chance, particularly since Mao snuffed it. Those sudden outbreaks of disease are only helping the Japanese.”

“I wonder if that was Uncle Joe,” Roosevelt said. “Ever since the Russians and the Japanese ended up in bed together, they’ve been sharing information – perhaps even dividing China between them. The Soviets have quite an advanced biological weapons program, according to the future knowledge.”