“Prime Minister, what will happen to Himmler?” Horton asked. “Where will he go?”
“The hangman,” Hanover said. The Allied War Crimes Commission hadn’t had any difficulties in bringing charges against Himmler; some of the accusations had been thought to be only theoretically possible. The charges that could be proven – the counts of organising the extermination of thousands of Jews, Poles and others – had been enough to have him sentenced to death. Along with Mengele and several hundred other high-ranking SS officers, Himmler would be hung soon enough.
“Good,” Horton said. He seemed to have something else to say, but didn’t say it. “Will the treaty hold?”
Hanover shrugged. “It should,” he said. “At least, we’ll be able to give democracy twenty – thirty – years to take root, without the threat of a Soviet invasion. We can do it better this time.” He smiled. “Now, what do you want to ask me?”
Horton didn’t have the grace to look surprised. “I want to talk to Himmler before you hang him,” he said. “Can you arrange that for me?”
Hanover lifted an eyebrow. “Why?”
“I want to ask him a few questions,” Horton said. “I need to ask him what the hell he was thinking.”
Hanover considered. Horton wasn’t a David Irving clone; he had faced Himmler and Hitler directly. “Very well,” he said finally. “Very well; you may visit him before he dies.”
Erwin Rommel, who had given up the title of General to become the Chancellor of the new Germany, took his seat in the conference room. His aide, Jagar, took a seat next to him, and then allowed Ambassador Schulze to slip past him to sit on the other side of Rommel. The representative from Russia – Ambassador Molotov – took his seat and nodded gravely to the Germans. The French, Spanish and Italians, small fry compared to the two major axis powers, took their seats. Some of them glared at the Germans; others maintained a steely silence.
Japan wasn’t represented. The Allied powers had decided, given that Japan had already surrendered, that they could be spared the humiliation of facing their judges. The Japanese were suffering badly, but they at least had been spared the task of reconstructing after a land war and two nuclear detonations.
The Polish delegation entered, taking a seat at the back. They glared at the Germans and Russians, who had slaughtered large numbers of their people. If the Germans had concentrated on extermination, rather than enslavement, the Poles would be extinct by now; ironically, the Holocaust had been worse in the other shadowy timeline.
So was the peace, Rommel said. He knew the peace terms, as did Molotov, and he knew that they were mild – far milder than Germany deserved. It was going to be bad, but perhaps a new Germany would arise from the ashes of the old, one strong, proud and democratic.
“Thank you all for coming,” McLachlan, the British Foreign Minister and the senior member of the negotiating team, said. Rommel smiled ruefully; it wasn’t as if anyone here had had a choice. “This is the result of nearly a month of arguing and compromising. The choice you gentlemen face is simple; you may accept the terms as they stand, or go back to war.”
There was a long pause. No one spoke. “First, all Axis countries, the major powers and the minor powers, will disarm in accordance with the protocols; no navy and a limited army and air force. You will permanently renounce the use of nuclear, chemical and biological weapons and you will be forbidden to research, develop, or stockpile such weapons. During that time, an Allied army will be stationed on your territory, including inspectors to ensure that you keep your word.
“Second, all of the disputed territory, from the Polish Corridor to Alsace-Lorraine, will be settled by a democratic vote, held under Allied supervision. The vote will determine the fate of those countries, and the ODS alliance will support whatever the outcome. In addition, all of your colonies that were occupied during the war will become independent and able to choose their own fates, including Siberia, Ukraine and Belarus.
“Third, you will democratise. Your governments will become democratic along the simple lines we have set out for you, with clear demarcations of power, limited taxing and conscription powers, and very little control over the economy, with the exceptions of the International Trade Protocols. We believe that this will ensure stability for Europe and Russia as a whole.
“Fourth, you will assist in the rebuilding of the nations devastated by your war. Fully twenty percent of your GNP for the twenty-year period of occupation will be set aside to aid in the rebuilding. These funds will go into the Allied Reconstruction Fund, which will be used to rebuild Poland, Norway, Sweden, the Netherlands and any other country that was devastated by the fighting.
“Fifth, you will be denied commercial access to space, using your own equipment, for a period of not less than twenty years, and you will permanently renounce military use of space. You will not be permitted to build nuclear reactors, but in the interests of repairing your power grids we will be happy to provide you with safe reactors. Any attempt to build a nuclear reactor, production plant or anything along those lines will be considered a treaty violation and it will draw a united response from the ODS.
“Sixth, most of the treaty provisions will have expired in twenty years. At that point, you will be permitted to join the Organisation of Democratic States – provided that you have in fact embraced democracy – and you will be welcomed back into the family of nations.
“Finally, although we understand that the causes of the war were multifaceted, you will acknowledge your roles in starting the war and carrying out atrocities against helpless civilians. All of the records of the civil service, and the armed forces, are to be made available to a war crimes division, which will have complete powers to investigate and punish crimes. Further, all of your nuclear, chemical and biological research is to be handed over to the commission. Finally, it will be an offence, now or ever, for any of you to claim that your atrocities – of which there is a full visual record – never happened, or were anything other than the crimes against humanity which they were.”
McLachlan sat down, breathing heavily. Rommel smiled dryly; saying so much had clearly winded him. Nothing in the treaty was unexpected – they’d known what was coming – and some of the Spanish delegates were crying. The French looked… sullen. The Poles, who had wanted Germany reduced to ruins, didn’t look happy at all.
Erwin Rommel was the first to walk to the table and sign.
“Well, that’s all folks,” Truman said, as the final French delegate signed. Hanover snorted. “The war is over and the world is ours.”
Hanover laughed briefly. “Speak for yourself,” he said. The two leaders were seating in their own room, it having been considered unnecessarily provocative to have them in the room while the terms of the treaty were read out. Truman smiled dryly; agonising the Axis powers wasn’t high on his list of concerns.
“You have the Commonwealth meeting next week,” he said. “Do you think that everyone will agree to the Commonwealth Protocols?”
“It’s the same as in there,” Hanover said, waving a hand at the television screen, where the meeting was breaking up. “The aides and mandarins handle most of the negotiations, then their principles smile for the cameras and act surprised.” He shrugged. “It makes sense, I suppose; if under-under-under secretary Fred at the Department of State calls the vice assistant undersecretary at the Foreign Minister Seagoon a bastard, its nothing serious. If one world leader calls another a bastard, it means war, or at least an embarrassing incident that needs to be hushed up.”