The Simulacra

‘I don't want to put you to any trouble.'

Pondering the matter, Chic said, ‘I think also we should settle this business about Julie. This is as good a time as any.'

His brother's head jerked; Vince stared at him, his face twisting. ‘What do you mean?'

‘Call it a tie-in deal,' Chic said.

After a long pause Vince said wooden, ‘I see.'

‘But' -- Vince shuddered -- ‘I mean, you said yourself -- ‘

‘The most I've ever said is that she makes me nervous. But I feel a lot more psychologically secure, now. After all, I was about to be fired. That's all changed; I'm part of an expanding, growing company. And we both know it. I'm on the inside and that means a lot. Now I think I can handle Julie. In fact I ought to have a wife. It helps ensure status.'

‘You mean you intend to formally marry her?'

Chic nodded.

‘All right,' Vince said, at last. ‘Keep her. Frankly I don't give a damn about it. It's your business. Just as long as you get me on at Maury Frauenzimmer's place; that's all I care about.'

Strange, Chic thought. He had never known his brother to be that concerned with his career, to the exclusion of any other topic. He made a mental note of it; perhaps it meant something.

‘I can offer Frauenzimmer a lot,' Vince said. ‘For example, I happen to know the name of the new der Alte. I picked up some scuttlebutt at Karp's, before I left. You want to know it?'

Chic said, ‘What? The new what?'

‘The new der Alte. Or don't you understand what this contract is that your boss has got away from Karp?'

Shrugging, Chic said, ‘Sure. I know. I was just startled.'

His ears rang from shock. ‘Listen,' he managed to say, ‘I don't care if it's going to be called Adolf Hitler van Beethoven.' The der Alte; so it was a sim. He felt really good, knowing that. This world, Earth, was a fine place to live in, at long last, and he meant to make the most of it. Now that he was truly a Ge.

‘It's name is going to be Dieter Hogben,' Vince said.

‘I'm sure Maury knows what it'll be,' Chic said nonchalantly, but inside he was still nonplussed. Utterly.

Bending, his brother turned on the car radio. ‘There's some news about it already.'

‘I doubt if there would be so soon,' Chic said.

‘Quiet!' His brother turned up the volume. He had a news bulletin. So everyone, throughout the USEA, would be hearing it, now. Chic felt a little disappointed.

‘ ... a mild heart attack which doctors revealed occurred at approximately three A.M. and which has given rise to widely-held fears that Herr Kalbfleisch may not live to serve out his term of office. The condition of der Alte's heart and circulatory system is the subject of speculation, and this unexpected cardiac arrest comes at a time when -- ‘ The radio droned on. Vince and Chic exchanged glances and then suddenly both of them burst into laughter. Knowingly and intimately.

‘It won't be long,' Chic said. The old man was on his way out; the first of a series of public announcements had now been made. The process ran a regular course, easily predictable. First, the mild, initial heart attack, coming out of the blue, thought at first to be merely indigestion, this shocked everyone but at the same time it prepared them, got them used to the idea. The Bes had to be approached in this manner; it was a tradition, and it functioned smoothly, effectively. As it had each time before.

Everything's settled, Chic said to himself. The disposal of der Alte, who gets Julie, what firm my brother and I are working for ... there are no loose ends, troublesome and incomplete.

And yet. Suppose he had emigrated. Where would he be now? What would his life consist of? He and Richard Kongrosian ... colonists in a distant land. But there was no use thinking about that because he had turned that down; he had not emigrated and now the moment of choice had passed. He shoved the thought aside and turned back to the matter at hand.

‘You're going to find it a lot different, working for a small outfit,' he said to Vince, ‘instead of a cartel. The anonymity, the impersonal bureaucratic -- ‘

‘Be quiet!' Vince interrupted. ‘There's another bulletin.

Again he turned up the car radio.

‘ ... duties, because of his illness, have been assumed by the Vice President, and it is understood that a special election is to be announced shortly. Dr Rudi Kalbfleisch's condition meanwhile remains -- ‘

‘They're not going to give us much time,' Vince said, frowning nervously and chewing on his lower lip.

‘We can do it,' Chic said. He was not worried. Maury would find a way; his boss would come through, now that he'd been given the chance.

Failure, now that the big break had arrived, simply was not possible. For any of them.

God, suppose he started worrying about that!

Seated in the big blue easychair, the Reichsmarschall pondered Nicole's proposition. Nicole, sipped iced tea, silently waited, in her authentic Directorate chair at the far end of the Lotus Room of the White House.

‘What you're asking,' Goering said at last, ‘is nothing less than that we repudiate our oaths to Adolf Hitler. Is it that you don't comprehend the Fuhrer Prinzip, the Leader Principle? Possibly I can explain it to you. For example, imagine a ship in which -- ‘

‘I don't want a lecture,' Nicole snapped. ‘I want a decision. Or can't you decide? Have you lost that capacity?'

‘But if we do this,' Goering said, ‘we're no better than the July Bomb Plotters. In fact we would have to plant a bomb exactly as they did or will do, however one expresses it.' He rubbed his forehead wearily. ‘I find this singularly difficult. Why is there such urgency?'

‘Because I want it settled,' Nicole said.

Goering sighed. ‘You know, our greatest mistake in Nazi Germany was our failure to harness the abilities of women properly. We relegated them to the kitchen and bedroom. They were not really utilized in the war effort, in administration or production or within the apparatus of the Party. Observing you I can see what a dreadful mistake we made.'

‘If you have not decided within the next six hours,' Nicole said, ‘I will have the von Lessinger technicians return you to the Age of Barbarism and any deal which we might make -- ‘

She gestured a sharp cutting-motion that Goering watched with apprehension. ‘It's all over.'

‘I simply do not have the authority,' Goering began.

‘Listen,' she leaned towards him, ‘you better have. What did you think, what thoughts passed through your mind, when you saw your great bloated corpse lying in the jail cell at Nuremberg? You have a choice: that, or assuming the authority to negotiate with me.' She sat back, then, and sipped more iced tea.

Goering said hoarsely, ‘I -- will think further about it. During the next few hours. Thank you for the extension of time. Personally, I have nothing against the Jews. I'd be quite willing to -- ‘

‘Then do so.' Nicole rose to her feet. The Reichsmarschall sat slumped over broodingly, evidently unaware that she had risen. She walked from the room leaving him. What a dismal, contemptible individual, she thought. Emasculated by the power-arrangement of the Third Reich; unable to do anything on his own as a unique individual -- no wonder they lost the war. And to think that in World War One he was a gallant brave ace, a member of Richtofen's Flying Circus, flying one of those tiny, flimsy, wire and wood aeroplanes. Hard to believe it was the same man ...

Through a window of the White House she saw crowds outside the gates. The curious, here because of Rudi's ‘illness.' Nicole smiled momentarily. The watchers at the gate ... keeping the vigil. They would be there from now on, day and night, as if waiting for World Series seat tickets, until Kalbfleisch ‘died.' And then they would silently drift off. Heaven knew what they came for. Didn't they have anything else to do? She had wondered about them many times before, at the previous occasions. Were they always the same people? Interesting speculation.