Eventually the Indians and civilians got settled down behind the fire team, who sat in a semicircle facing Angriff and Zoan.
Victorine, Dancy, Niklas Kesteven, and the elderly Lystra Palermo sat close behind the soldiers.
“Captain Slaughter, I assume that you’ve been out of communications for some time now,” Angriff began, “so you must be unaware of current events.” Taking a deep breath, he continued evenly, “Your president has been found and is well. It is my understanding that power will be restored in a couple of months; joint German and U.S. teams are working on the problem right now. In the meantime, we have provided emergency generators, equipment, general supplies, food, medical supplies, and personnel in most of your co-op cities.”
“We?” Con repeated. “You mean Germany?”
“Mostly, yes, although other countries have contributed much.”
Con’s desert-bronzed face took on an angry cast. “Yeah? Have these other countries also joined in the undeclared war against the United States? Along with Germany?”
Angriff looked sincerely confused. “Undeclared war? We are not at war with you!”
“You lying—!” With obvious effort, Con made himself calm down. Taking a long, deep breath, he continued, “Colonel Angriff, I and my team witnessed a massacre of our base—Fort Carson— by your Luftwaffe! We were, for all intents and purposes, unarmed, completely defenseless because of the blackout! And your bloody fighter jocks and chop jocks mowed down everyone and everything! Even the women and children . . . even the hospital!”
For long moments Angriff didn’t answer. He was clearly troubled. Then he said in a low voice, “Captain Slaughter, I don’t know what you witnessed. I know nothing of this. During the blackout, and in the confusion of the days immediately following it, our forces were deployed to recon and observe. Some of our infantry and planes were fired upon. Yes, there were casualties—
on both sides.”
“Gee golly, I didn’t know those rocks we were throwing at you caused any casualties,” Ric said dryly.
Angriff frowned, evidently not understanding the sarcasm. Then he repeated carefully, “There were casualties on both sides. But that has been smoothed over. That has been forgotten and forgiven because of the massive chaos that your country was in.”
“Forgotten and forgiven?” Con repeated in a strangled voice. “I’m telling you, Angriff, you massacred my comrades! In an unprovoked attack!”
Angriff straightened his shoulders and tightened his jaw. “Captain, I did no such thing. And I’m telling you that this is what your own president has broadcast again and again since he’s been back in communication. Listen to me! President Therion—your own commander in chief—was fired upon by some of your military at NORAD as he was attempting to reestablish communications! My commandant, Count Tor von Eisenhalt, personally saved him—again!”
At this, Con, Ric, and Rio looked horrified and fell silent. Growling like an angry bear, Colonel Ben-ammi said, “Captain Slaughter? Why should you believe this—this—Hun?”
Con swallowed and stared hard at Colonel Angriff. Angriff met his gaze, unflinching, unblinking, then said, “What would be my reason for lying to you? Do you actually think I came here, alone, openly walking into the camp—to take you all prisoner or to kill you? Use your common sense, Captain Slaughter. I have no reason to lie. Aside from that, you can easily find out the truth for yourselves. You could report to any military base anywhere, and you would be welcomed back. The president has directed all military personnel who were separated from their units, no matter the reason, to report back to active duty, and there will be no questions asked.”
Now Con and his men were utterly confused. What if this
German was telling the truth? What if the U.S. military was getting organized again under the rightful commander in chief ? If that was the case, then they had a sworn duty to report back and rejoin the forces, or they would, indeed, be deserters.
Vashti Nicanor watched the American soldiers—in particular, Ric. Over the last months, as Vashti had gotten to know (and had thought much about) Ric, she had begrudgingly accepted the fact that not all Germans should be dismissed as monsters.
But she realized, as she glanced at Darkon Ben-ammi’s dark and menacing expression, that he had not yet come to this acceptance of their traditional worst enemy. Sighing, she realized that her mentor, and by far the wisest and most experienced soldier on their team, was unable to competently deal with this situation. He was too blinded by hate.
“Just a moment,” she said calmly to Captain Slaughter, who still looked lost in confusion. “Let’s just back up, shall we? It seems to me that we’re jumping ahead without taking into account the context of the situation. Isn’t that what you’ve always taught me, Darkon? To look at the entire picture, not just the pieces of it?”
Frowning, he slowly swiveled his angry gaze to her. Clearing her throat, she went on, “We are confused. And why? Because, as Colonel Angriff has said, this country has been in chaos for two months now. And why? Because of the loss of electrical power in the entire United States.
“Let us go back, then, and trace our steps: Who or what was responsible for this blackout? And most important, why? It resulted in chaos and death and destruction. It literally threw this country into anarchy. Who could have done this? Who benefited from this?”
Her eyes flashing, she went on in an icy voice, “Colonel Angriff, your people knew about the blackout long before it happened. Your people have barely been inconvenienced by this tragedy—because you had an extremely effective countermeasure, a preventive. And,
Colonel Angriff, obviously the Americans did not.”
Calmly Angriff answered, “But they did, Colonel Nicanor. They did. Our intelligence—the Wolfsrudel—learned of this weapon, or anomaly, or whatever it is, last year. Our government fully briefed the Americans of the danger then. At that time, Bishop Beckwith was president, and he was fully informed. But somehow the Americans discounted the intelligence, or in the confusion resulting from Beckwith’s death, it was lost or forgotten in the bureaucracy. We’ve found only two of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, and they had no foreknowledge of it at all. Also we have found around two hundred congressmen and other various governmental officials. None of them were briefed about the possibility of a blackout.”
He shifted uneasily, but his voice remained calm. “Luca Therion was vice president then, and he has said that he personally was notified by our government and then turned the information over to the president. But nothing was ever done, and after taking over the massive responsibilities of the presidency, Therion never found any documentation concerning the intelligence. He assumed that it must have been bad information or a false alarm.”
Con Slaughter rasped, “Sounds awfully convenient, Colonel Angriff.”
“Just a minute, Con,” Victorine said suddenly, laying her hand upon his shoulder. “He—he may be telling the truth.”
Angriff said tightly, “There is no maybe. I am telling the truth. The truth that your own President Luca Therion has told the American people, my government, and the world.”
Con ignored him; he turned to face Victorine. “What do you mean, Vic? How do you know?”
Quietly she said, “I—I do know that a meeting took place between Luca Therion—he was vice president then—and some high-ranking German military people last year. Months before the blackout.” She looked uncertainly at Reinhart Angriff. “Was your operation to treat all your electronics with the preventive named
Projekt Schlußenheit?”
Angriff looked startled, but quickly smoothed out his expression. “Yes. How did you know this?”
Colonel Ben-ammi said angrily, “Wait a minute. Madame Thayer, I hardly think that you are competent to debrief this man.
And you should have given us any information you had about— anything—of a sensitive nature such as this!”
“I didn’t realize the importance of the information I had until now,” V
ictorine shot back. “After the blackout, it seemed unimportant. And, Colonel Ben-ammi, I really know nothing of sensitive German-U.S. intelligence matters.”
Suddenly her head swiveled and her eyes narrowed as she stared at Niklas Kesteven, sitting a few feet away in uncharacteristic silence and stillness. “But I have just realized that there is one person who must know a lot—maybe all—of the background of this crisis . . . Dr. Niklas Kesteven. One of the foremost scientists working for the government . . . and Chief Commissar Alia Silverthorne’s consort.”
Niklas shifted uneasily as every eye in the room turned on him.
Mostly he was conscious of Zoan’s clear, penetrating gaze. “I’m not her consort, haven’t been for a long time,” he said in a low, tense voice. “And I knew nothing about the blackout and secret meetings and the countermeasures.” He dropped his eyes, unwilling to look at Zoan, even though he had spoken the truth—but not exactly the whole truth.
Colonel Angriff sat straighter and stared hard at Niklas. “You are Dr. Niklas Kesteven? Of the MAB Second Directorate, Short-grass Steppe Biome? Assigned to Lab XJ2197?”
“That’s me,” Niklas said in an almost inaudible undertone.
“Interesting,” Angriff said in a clinical tone. “Chief Commissar Alia Silverthorne is looking for you.” A stunned silence greeted this revelation. The only movement in the room was made by Niklas; he jumped as if he’d been burned, looked first at the German in shock and then at Zoan, almost with fear. Angriff narrowed his eyes, watching the odd reaction closely, and then said in a low voice, “But then, Commissar Alia Silverthorne is looking for a lot of people.”
Everyone from Chaco Canyon seemed to be reeling with the impact of Angriff ’s news. But one thing Vashti Nicanor realized with some shock: Reinhart Angriff was not a threat to them, and he was actually trying to help all of them. He had perceived that none of them could—should—trust him, and he was giving them every opportunity to hear what he had to say, without trying to extract any information from them. Clearly he understood that they needed time and consideration to sort everything out, and he had not once pressed them for their views or intentions. It was a courageous stand to take, considering his precarious position.
So Vashti picked up the thread. “Commissar Silverthorne is looking for people? What do you mean, Colonel Angriff ?”
For the first time, Angriff dropped his eyes as if he were discomforted. “Martial law has been declared by your president. For enforcement, a sort of superagency has been formed, under the umbrella of the Sixth Directorate of the Man and Biosphere Organization. All the personnel of such security agencies as the FBI, FEMA, state law enforcement agencies, even the NSA, have joined with the Commissary. Chief Commissar Alia Silverthorne heads this organization.”
“I see,” Vashti said thoughtfully. No one else seemed inclined to reply to him. “And who, exactly, are they looking for?”
This time Angriff looked troubled, and he gave Zoan a long look. “Your government insists that this blackout was caused by fundamentalist religious fanatics. The Commissary has directed that all registered members of the United America Church and the Roman Catholic Church report to the nearest co-op city or refugee camp for questioning.”
Victorine spoke up again, in a voice laden with suspicion, “At Pensacola Naval Air Station, we were questioned and detained by
German military, Colonel Angriff.”
Angriff said quietly, “In the days following the blackout, Fräulein Thayer, America was in chaos. We simply tried to help what was left of your government—which was the Commissary, mostly—get organized. Now we are completely disengaged from your internal problems and conflicts. Your government, with your leaders, is controlling this recovery and reorganization.”
Con, who suddenly sounded half-dead weary, murmured, “And what about the armed forces? What’s the situation of the U.S. military now?”
“Your president has joined the Global Union of Nation-States,” Angriff said steadily. “Almost all of the nations in the world have joined now, and all of them have come together to assist your country in this crisis. Your president has enjoined the military with the Joint Task Forces of the union.”
Con blinked and shook his head as if he’d been struck a numbing blow. “The Joint Task Forces of the Germanic Union of Nation-States? You’re saying that we’ve joined that army? Under—who is the commanding officer?”
Quietly Angriff replied, “Commandant Tor von Eisenhalt of Germany, Captain Slaughter. And it is now the Global Union, not the Germanic Union. As I said, the union is not just of Germanic peoples anymore . . . Almost all of the nations in the world belong to it and are loyal to it.”
Colonel Darkon Ben-ammi said in a guttural growl very unlike his own voice, “I would bet my right thumb that New Zion is one of the few that have not joined your new Aryan world order, Colonel.”
The look Reinhart Angriff gave his traditional adversary was one almost of pity. “But it has, Colonel Ben-ammi. As a matter of fact, many of the armed forces from the Global Union are deploying to active duty in the Mideast right now in defense of your country. Many of my comrades have been sent to Lebanon and
Syria and Jordan. And also”—he glanced quickly at the still-silent American soldiers—“all American armed forces have been activated and are now detailed to combat duty in the Mideast.”
“Combat duty?” Con repeated in a strangled voice. “You mean—there’s going to be a war?”
“The war has already begun,” Angriff answered. “We are fighting a consortium of Arab nations threatening the Jordan and Lebanese Neutral Zones. Their intention is clearly to overrun and conquer New Zion. My commandant has ordered the Joint Task Forces to defend Israel.”
Zoan, who had not spoken a word, now said in a soft, unhappy voice, “Your commandant . . . he’s fighting a war for the children of Israel?”
Angriff looked confused for a moment, but then his face cleared. “Why, yes, Zoan, he is. He’s protecting them.”
Zoan nodded, then looked straight into Reinhart Angriff ’s clear blue eyes. “I know you think that’s true, Mr. Reinhart. I know that there is no deceit in you. You just don’t understand.”
Angriff frowned. “Then explain it to me, Zoan.”
Zoan merely shook his head and sighed sadly.
Angriff said to the group in general—and his voice was now a little too loud—“One thing I do understand. It is not my commandant who is persecuting the religious people in this country. It is your own people, your own government. We—Germany and America—are allies.”
“But we—that is, the president—” Con began in a confused, low tone.
Darkon Ben-ammi had had enough with trying to absorb all this information, right in front of a man he considered his own deathly enemy—and the Americans’, too, even if they couldn’t quite grasp it. “Enough,” he said angrily. “We need some time to talk among ourselves, analyze this information, make some decisions, and we don’t need to include this German in any of it. You,
Oberstleutnant Übermensch, if you are our ally and our protector, as you insist, then why don’t you do something for us that will truly help us?”
Warily Angriff asked, “And what would that be, Herr Oberstleutnant Ben-ammi?”
“Get us access to Cyclops,” Darkon replied, watching him closely.
With a quick look at Zoan’s downcast face, Angriff said quietly, “I can do better than that, sir. I can let you have the DPV I brought if someone—perhaps Dr. Kesteven—can disengage the ethernet ID so it can’t be tracked. I told the mechanics that it was having some electrical problems, and I intend to tell them when I return that it broke down in the desert. We have plenty of them, so I don’t think anyone will try to recover it. It won’t have Cy-II capabilities, but it will have Cy-net and a broadcast receiver. Then, Herr Ben-ammi, you will have both communications and transport.”
Darkon said nothing. He stared at the German with ill-disguised suspicion.
Zo
an said softly, “That would be good, Mr. Reinhart. We thank you.”
Angriff smiled gently at his friend. “For you, Zoan. I do this for you.”
The Holy Land
Not since cruel Shalmaneser’s Assyrian hordes had razed Israel had the Holy Land been drenched in such blood and tears.
The Arabic Confederation never intended a war of such immensity. As they had done for decades, the diplomats blustered and the generals shouted battle cries of Allahu akbar! But the overall strategy was for the appearance of aggression to illustrate grievances—not to incite a full-scale war.
The Arabic leaders did not count on Tor von Eisenhalt’s strategy. He was the Destroyer, the Ravening Wolf. War was his meat.
Aside from the strategic miscalculation, the Arabic Confederation made a mortal tactical error in the choice of weaponry. Because of a single weapon used on a single battlefield in this war, all of the armies in the entire world united against the confederation—and came under the control of Tor von Eisenhalt, commandant of the Joint Task Forces of the Global Union of Nation-States.
The Arabic Confederation did not have the high-tech interlocking space-based system of sensors and weapons that was the Galaxy Guardian system. The only real weapon it had was numbers, and the only advantage it had was geography. The confederation decided to array forces tightly against Israel on the south, Jordan and Lebanon on the west, and engage in close combat. Weapons of mass destruction used against the forces would be self-defeating because none of them were precise enough to kill one man engaged in a close-combat situation with another man. Sheer numbers seemed to make this scenario plausible. The Arabic Confederation forces outnumbered Tor’s two divisions in Syria and the Israeli forces by four to one. In a small theater of operations, space-based weaponry would be impossible to implement without unacceptable friendly casualties.
The Arabic Confederation members clearly saw the buildup of
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