Storm Front (Twilight of the Gods Book 1) (36 page)

She stepped down from the chair and was instantly surrounded by a mob of students, some cheering her name and others patting her on the back.  It had been a risk - her father was likely to explode with rage when he heard about it, while she might get arrested again within the hour - but she’d spoken from the heart.   She
was
sick of living in the
Reich
.  And there were more cracks in the edifice than she’d dared suppose.  If Horst could forsake his duty, how many others in the SS, the bastion of the state, felt the same way?

And if we remain united
, she told herself firmly,
we can win
.

***

Horst had been taught to keep his head down, to avoid being noticed.  It was dreary tradecraft, all the more so when he was forced to play the role of a loud student at the university, but he’d long since mastered the trick of appearing to be one of them without compromising himself.  And yet, Gudrun - in a moment of madness - had stood up and openly declared herself to be a dissident.  Her speech had been clumsy, with none of the polish he heard from the
Reich’s
broadcasters, but it had transformed the mood of the student body.  They now had a leader.

That was careless of her
, he thought, savagely.  How could she put herself in so much danger?  Anyone else, male or female, would have been a better choice.  Gudrun simply knew too much to risk attracting attention.  A session with the
Reich’s
interrogators, men experienced in inflicting unimaginable levels of pain, would probably break her. 
She could get us all killed
!

There was nothing he could say, in public, so all he could do was watch as Gudrun worked to rally the students, encouraging them to work together.  Perhaps it was better that
she
steer the growing protest movement, rather than someone who hadn't been there at the start, but it was still a security nightmare.  Horst would have been surprised if someone in the room - someone
else
- hadn’t been an undercover SS agent, watching and waiting to see what happened.  He’d have to come up with
something
to tell his handlers or they’d start wondering just what he’d been doing at the university.  Gudrun might just have accidentally exposed his duel loyalties to his superiors.  By the time she slipped out of the room, back towards the meeting room, he’d had plenty of time to get angry.

“That was stupid,” he hissed, as soon as they were alone.  The walls were meant to be soundproofed, but he wouldn't have bet money on them.  A spy didn't
need
an expensive bug to listen to a conversation, something he felt many in the
Reich
had forgotten.  “What were you
thinking
?”

“I was thinking that I had to make sure the entire student body was moving in the same direction,” Gudrun said, defiantly.  “Don’t I have reason to speak
now
?”

Horst was tempted to point out that the BDM
also
made sure the girls moved in the same direction, but bit down on the thought.  Gudrun meant well, yet... she could have put him in terrible danger.  And if he were to come under intense suspicion, he wouldn't be able to do anything other than make a run for Switzerland and hope he got there ahead of the manhunt.

“Your father didn’t thrash you hard enough,” he said, instead.  “What do I tell my superiors?”

Gudrun reddened.  “My father has nothing to do with this!”

“My superiors
do
,” Horst snapped.  “What do I tell them?”

“Just that you watched me give a speech,” Gudrun said.  She paused, her face paling.  “Or you could claim you weren't there.”

“And if there was someone in the crowd I don’t know,” Horst said, “I would be exposed as a liar.  They’d
know
I was lying to them and they’d start to wonder why.”

Gudrun looked down at the floor.  “I’m sorry,” she said.  “I... I just got carried away.”

“Yes, you did,” Horst said.  Was it worth a gamble?  Was it worth pretending he wasn't there when she made the speech?  The risk would be appalling.  Or... he took a breath.  “Your speech isn't exactly illegal, now.”

“No,” Gudrun said.  She still looked pale.  “They were kind enough to concede freedom of speech.”

“And you’re hardly the only one shooting her mouth off,” Horst added.  “Maybe you can hide in the crowd.”

“There were others talking when I left,” Gudrun said.  “They can’t arrest us all.”

Horst was tempted, very tempted, just to shake her.  “No, they can’t,” he agreed.  “But they know you already.  They won’t hesitate to haul you in for the second time.”

“Then we have to keep running,” Gudrun said.  Her voice was low, but grimly determined to carry on.  “I might die - you might die - but the ideas we’re spreading will live on.”

“I hope you’re right,” Horst said.  Gudrun was brave, he had to admit; he’d always thought that insane bravery was a male trait.  “Because if you’re wrong, we’ll be hanging from meat hooks by the end of the day.”

Chapter Thirty-Five

Berlin, Germany

20 August 1985

“We need to make budget cuts,” Hans said, flatly.  “Now.”

“And there I was under the impression that making concessions would save us from having to make budget cuts,” Holliston sneered.  “Haven’t we already tolerated far too much?”

Hans eyed him dubiously.  The
Reichsführer-SS
sounded oddly unfocused, as if he was concentrating on some greater thought.  Watching the spread of political activity across the
Reich
, from student debate clubs to industrial unions, hadn't been easy for any of them, but the SS had been surprisingly muted about the whole affair.  Hans had wondered if Holliston’s position was under threat, yet his sources within the RSHA hadn't heard the slightest
hint
of dissent within the SS.  He couldn't help thinking that wasn't a good sign.

“The problem is that the bills are finally coming due,” he said, pushing the thought aside for later consideration.  The civilians and the military were, for the moment, united.  It would take the SS weeks, perhaps months, to break the alliance and reassert their power.  “The Americans are not helping.  Their newspapers have been covering the protest movements in the
Reich
with great interest.”

“It isn't as if they haven’t had riots of their own,” Voss pointed out.  “What does their displeasure mean for us?”

“It means we can no longer buy anything on credit, if we can find anyone in America willing to sell to us,” Engelhard Rubarth said.  The Foreign Minister looked tired.  He’d been talking to his American and British counterparts non-stop over the last week.  “Their corporations have to listen to their customers - and the American population.  We’ve been told that several corporations will not be selling anything to us, even if we
do
pay up front.”

“They have agreements,” Holliston said.  Oddly, it sounded more as though he was protesting because he thought he was
supposed
to protest.  “Americans
worship
money.  They signed contracts!”

“They may be willing to pay the penalties, if - of course - we can get an American court to rule in our favour,” Rubarth said.  “Politically,
Herr Reichsführer
, their business with us is only a small fraction of their total sales.  They cannot afford a boycott from their other customers.”

Hans tapped the table.  “The Americans are not the only problem,” he said.  “Thanks to the French, thanks to the protest movements, thanks to the strikes, we’re looking at a major cash shortage over the next month.  There is no way the cracks can be papered over any longer.”

“Seize cash from the major corporations,” Holliston suggested.  “They have reserves, do they not?”

“That would destroy our economy,” Hans said.  It didn't help that many corporations kept their money in Swiss banks, rather than the
Reich
.  “Their reserves are simply not great enough to cover the holes in our budget.  We have to stop the cash outflow.”

“The military budget cannot be cut while we have a war on,” Voss insisted.  “We
need
new equipment and weapons for South Africa.”

“And we shouldn't stop paying our fighting men now,” Holliston added, darkly.  “Who
knows
which way they’ll jump?”

Hans silently cursed his predecessors under his breath.  The
Reich’s
economy had been a hodgepodge of competing factions ever since Adolf Hitler had risen to power, so weak that a single military defeat would probably have started a cascade reaction of failures that brought the entire system down.  Even after the war had been won, even after the
Reich
had settled down to stripping Europe bare of everything from manpower to raw materials, the system was a mess.  Cutting the budget in one place would have nasty effects in another.

And if we cancel the new aircraft carrier,
he thought,
we’ll put thousands of trained workers out of work
.

It wasn't the only problem, of course.  He had never anticipated - none of them had ever anticipated - dissent within the military, the police and perhaps even the SS itself.  The rot had spread far - endless anticorruption campaigns had produced no solid results - but he’d always believed that corruption was manageable.  He’d never suspected the police would be reluctant to do their jobs, just because their wives and children were on the streets.  In hindsight, it had been a major oversight.  And cutting the wages of the men who kept the
Reich
in order would be cutting their throats.

“I don’t propose to cut the military budget,” he said, “although we are going to have to make some adjustments over the next two years.  I have planners working on the best way to make those adjustments without causing an economic crisis.  However, right now, we need to cut support payments.”

“There will be trouble,” Voss predicted.

“Not if we do it carefully,” Holliston said.  “Cut the payments for families living within Germany Prime, but offer to keep paying for families who are willing to move to Germany East within five years.”

Hans blinked in surprise.  Had Holliston
ever
supported him?  The SS
liked
the idea of paying mothers to have as many children as possible, even though it was a growing drain on the economy.  No matter how he looked at it, cutting the payments was going to be painful.  God alone knew how many families would no longer be able to afford their children if their state payments were cancelled.  Soldiers, in particular, would be hit hard. 
They
were encouraged to get their wives pregnant every time they went home on leave. 

It makes sense
, he told himself.  Holliston and the SS had been trying to urge more Germans to move to Germany East, despite its bad reputation. 
They want to use cuts in the payments to encourage immigration
.

“We could simply stop paying for new mothers,” Rubarth said, nervously.  Economic policy was outside his bailiwick.  “The mothers who have been drawing support payments for years
need
them.”

“It is something we’ll have to do, but it won’t help us with the current problem,” Hans said, producing a paper from his briefcase.  “Assuming we manage to cut support payments by fifty percent over the next two months, we should be able to re-stabilise the economy - if, of course, the Americans don’t make any major new deployments.  We are already spending far too much money producing new missiles to overwhelm the American ABM system.”

“Which we need,” Voss said.  “If the Americans successfully shield themselves against nuclear missiles, they can simply dictate terms to us at will.”

That
was true, Hans knew.  If the
Reich
had such an advantage, the
Reich
Council would not hesitate to use it to force America to disarm and submit to German rule.  The Yankees were cowards, certainly when compared to the
Reich
, but even cowards could pluck up the nerve to fight, if they thought they had an overwhelming advantage.  Being able to turn the
Reich
into a pile of radioactive ashes, without fear of major retaliation, would be enough to convince even a coward to strike.  It would be unfortunate for Britain, too close to the
Reich
to be shielded properly, but he doubted the American planners would care.  The
Reich
wouldn't give a damn if Vichy France were to be turned into rubble, if it gave the
Reich
dominance over the entire world.

“So we make the cuts,” he said, out loud.  “We do our best to present them to the people as
necessary
cuts, cuts we have to make.”

“And offer incentives for people to move east,” Holliston added.  “There’s plenty of unclaimed land for farmers in Germany East.”

But most of the people who’ll move are not farmers
, Hans thought. 
They don’t want to spend the rest of their lives staring at the back end of a mule
.

He pushed the thought aside.  For once, he had the cooperation of the SS.  That wouldn't last, but he needed to take advantage of it.  No matter how the cuts were spun, it would be impossible to avoid pain.  The sooner it was over, the better.

“We can put the question to the
Reichstag
,” Holliston added.  “Let the protesters try to rationalise their opposition after the
Reichstag
votes in favour.”

“That wouldn't be hard,” Voss commented.  “We haven’t held free elections yet.”

Hans shrugged.  A freely-elected
Reichstag
, dependent on the whim of the population, wouldn't agree to pass any spending cuts, let alone a cut as deep as cutting support payments to German mothers.  Holliston had a point, he had to admit; a democratic nation simply couldn't make the hard choices that would secure its future, once and for all.  Who knew what would have happened if the Americans had joined the British in war against the
Reich
, back in 1945?  The
Reich’s
control over Europe had been so tenuous, in places, that it
might have come apart at the seams, giving the world to the Americans.

No
, he thought. 
This isn't a decision we can trust to the people
.

He smiled, rather thinly.  “Shall we vote?”

***

It was a weakness of civilians, Karl Holliston had often felt, was that they thought in terms of money and power, rather than the racial imperatives that had driven the
Reich
from the very first day Adolf Hitler had become the ruler of Germany.  A civilian would compromise on issues that an SS officer would know could never be compromised.  The world was red in tooth and claw; those who failed to be strong, those who failed to dominate, would be dominated themselves.  There was no way the
Reich
could tolerate weakness in its ranks.

And weakness there was, he knew.  He’d done nothing to purge the student activists, the female protesters, the unionists... giving them time to stand up and be countered.  It didn't seem to have occurred to any of them that going public, no matter what the laws said was legal now, turned them into marked men.  Karl’s agents had been compiling a long list of men and women, ranging from old unionists to students barely old enough to marry, who would be ruthlessly purged once the old order reasserted itself.  And it would, he knew.  The civilians might delude themselves that the population would accept cuts in their support payments, but Karl knew better.  He had no illusions about the leaders of the protest groups, male or female.  They wanted power...

... And, like himself, they would do whatever it took to grab hold and keep it for themselves.

He’d played his cards carefully, as much as it galled him not to oppose the civilians in their madcap schemes.  Let them think he would support their cuts, at least in Germany Prime; it was, in many ways, a defensible position.  God knew Germany East needed a major population boom and encouraging young families to immigrate was a means to that end.  But it would also lure the civilians into a false sense of security.  They would assume he had no intention of stepping outside the normal rules of political dispute, within the
Reich
.

But the Reich itself is at risk
, he thought, as the vote was taken.  Only two junior ministers voted against the cuts, although the military officers looked dubious.  They were probably relieved they’d been spared painful budget cuts of their own. 
And I must do whatever it takes to save it
.

Word would spread, long before the official announcement.  He’d make sure of it.  His agents would even make the cuts seem worse than they actually were, although in truth they were probably painful enough already to cause a major protest in the streets.  And then, the SS would be waiting.  Blood would flow on the streets of Germany and the
Reich
would be saved.