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Clear the streets for the brown battalions, Clear the streets for the storm division! Millions are looking upon the swastika full of hope, The day of freedom and of bread dawns!
For the last time, the call to arms is sounded! For the fight, we all stand prepared! Already Hitler’s banners fly over all streets. The time of bondage will last but a little while now!

Ulric sits as stiff as a flagpole focused in concentration. It was a posture I was all too familiar with when we were children. Every situation, any question was met with a posture that could only mean he was focusing all his energy to reach the answer. As the song came to an end and we were met with silence, Ulric remained with his face in his hands.

“I’m trying to think back to my time scouring the Reich records,” Ulric remarks, baffled and confused. “All the chants and songs, the speeches from past Führers, and… yet…”

“Yet what?” I insist, awaiting the answer. The rest of the group leans in just a tad closer toward my brother.

“Yet I’m blanking!” he insists, his eyebrows raised at the prospect, “I’m not familiar with this, or quality of the audio. Everything I’ve ever heard had such clear audio that it could have taken place right in front of me, even songs from thousands of years ago. Unless…”

“Unless… this was recorded before the official records…” the freckled man says in a slurred voice.

“You all think this was recorded during the Reclamation?” Ulric asks.

“I still think it’s Glass Wars,” another chimes in.

“Well, Keller and I do,” I say, lending a hand to the grease-faced, missing-toothed grinning man across the fire, “So what do you think, S.S. Knight?” I ask Ulric.

The group leans in a little bit more with bated breath, waiting to hear the verdict.

“They do mention something about ‘clearing the streets,’ and such a song wouldn’t make sense if all the Reich’s enemies were already outside our borders.”

“But,” a man with a crooked nose interrupts, “But it also said ‘the call to arms,’ so a battle. Glass Wars.”

“You idiot, that could mean Reclamation too,” Keller debates, pointing his empty pint across the fire.

“I mean, the Reclamation was largely a peaceful affair,” Ulric teaches. “It was just the expulsion of the Scavengers and uniting the countries under the Reich. The Eternal Führer never mentioned anything about violence in his book.”

He begins flipping through his copy of My Struggle.

“There are a few passages in the Eternal Führer’s words that could be construed as violent. I theorize, however, that it’s mostly just about the defense of the country against foreigners, not outright violence. Like a metaphorical war, not a literal one, since he did unite Europe in the end through peace…” Ulric lectures to nobody in particular, perhaps just rationalizing a conclusion to himself.

“Damn,” Keller says with a tone of defeat, “guess it is the Glass Wars.” He prepares to hand the whiskey bottle to the freckled man.

“Well… hang on…” Ulric interrupts, pointing up a finger, “this audio is far too muffled. Where did you find it?”

“I didn’t find it, it was sold to me,” Keller replies.

“Where did they find it?” Ulric asks.

“In the desert.”

Ulric’s eyes widen, and he leans forward with hands covering the lower half of his face. Letting out a groan, he runs his hands through his hair as he looks back to me.

“You know this is illegal right?” he says to me with a disappointed expression, his face falling flat.

“I know,” I reply, not bothering to come up with an excuse.

“We aren’t supposed to take anything from the desert. You know that you’re putting me in a very difficult situation…” he lectures.

“It’s fine, Ulric,” I insist, attempting to downplay the entire thing. It wasn’t that big of a deal, and I knew that Ulric would have a fit over the law being broken, however I wanted to know when this disc was created… and also… you know… whiskey. He looks at me strangely, but composes himself and turns back to the group.

“Can I see the disc at least?” Ulric asks, his mannerisms laced with begrudging annoyance.

“Of course!” Keller accepts, opening up the hatch on the box yet again. He reaches inside and pulls out the black disc with a small hole in the center. Keller bends over the fire and places the disc in Ulric’s hands. Ulric examines it as if he was scanning over a book, feeling the circular ridge lines and touching its glossy, smooth surface.

“It’s not damaged. So that’s good,” he concludes, his eyes squinting at the artifact.

“What are you looking for?” one of the men asks impatiently, “I want my whiskey.”

“I’m trying to see what could cause the muffled audio,” Ulric defends. “I mean, if this really was during the Glass Wars, we’d have clear audio. Oldest audio I heard was from the twenty-second century… I think… and that was perfect quality. This however, this sounds so distant. Maybe it was your box that caus—”

“Nah ah ah,” Keller insists, cutting off Ulric. “This thing was hand-crafted by me. It works perfectly. Don’t question my craftsmanship.”

“I can’t prove otherwise… but if that’s the case then, simply based on the poor audio… this might very well be from the Reclamation,” Ulric concludes, handing the disc back to a celebratory Keller. He and I both cheer, at the expense of the others’ protests.

“Oh come on, of course he’s going to say that because he’s your brother!” one of them says.

“I assure you, Ulric cares very little about the whiskey, now if you please,” I say, reaching my hand out for the bottle. “I’m going to share this with everyone.” This seems to calm the entire group.

“Good save, Captain.” Keller jokes, handing me the bottle.

Rounds are given and shots are taken around the fire. The song continues to play on repeat as men joke about. Ulric, however, sits next to me, drink still full in hand, eyes locked onto the small brown box.

“Still trying to figure it out?” I lean over to ask him.

“No, I’m trying to analyze what I should do. That is illegal contraband,” he whispers.

“You don’t need to do anything, this is my ship. I don’t need to deal with any stress from laws.”

“This is still Reich property—you’ll just disobey a law? I thought you were devoted to the Reich?”

“More devoted to the moral laws, not the literal laws.”

“So you just pick and choose?”

“That’s the best you can do out here. Don’t you think what a waste in history it is that we can’t just take stuff from the desert anyway?”

“Of course, but it’s not my job to question the law.”

“It’s not your job to enforce it either. You’re just a scholar, and a Knight.”

“Knights can enforce it out of principle.”

“Well can you leave the principal alone for a bit, at least until we get back to shore? I don’t want to deal with you making enemies by smashing the disc.”

“I guess. It is a tremendous find… if it really was from that time… I’m at a loss for words if it was,” Ulric admits, his face changing into a smile at the thought. I think the idea of the illegality of it is taking a back seat to the prospect this might be historical. “I’ve spent so much of my life reading over the words of the Eternal Führer… imagine these men knew him.”

“That’d truly be a find,” I admit, taking out a cigar from my pocket.

“Imagine what Hitler must have been like to the people back then,” Ulric wonders, looking down at his copy of My Struggle, seeing the painted image of Adolf Hitler. Hitler’s blond hair was combed neatly as he stood against a red-and-gold flag.

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