“Colonel Sumi has threatened to execute them as an example if he can find them. I think that the admiral is amused. I’m just glad they only broke two arms and a few ribs.”
“Things are getting worse in the towns. Yesterday, a woman in Pretoria was assaulted by a gang of Japanese soldiers. When two policemen tried to stop them, they were attacked and beaten by a squad of blacklegs led by an officer. Both are still in the hospital, and one of them may lose an eye. The woman—a girl, really—is shattered, as one might expect. Admiral Horii has promised to ‘do the best he could to look into the matter,’ ” She looked down at her hands. “I read those papers you gave me. Many times.”
Hanna Bruwer had almost as much military intelligence training as her husband.
“So where does this leave us?” he asked her gently. “Albert and I fought over it for hours last night. Finally, I told him to speak to Anton, and that I would agree with any decision they could reach. I cannot believe that he is thinking about another rebellion.”
“Hush! I’m beginning to worry about ears in the walls.”
“It is too late for that.” She rolled on top of him to look in his eyes. “Raul, if we do this—how many people die?”
“Lots. Starting with us.”
“Oh, God.”
“And if we don’t—lots. Maybe lots more. Also starting with us. Anton has been dreading this for years.”
She turned her head and began to weep.
“It’s all right. It will be all right,” he said awkwardly, holding her.
“No, it isn’t! And who else can I cry in front of? Politicians never cry, remember?” She shook him. “You have spoken with Hans about this—I know you have.”
Sanmartin scowled and kicked the sheet off his legs. “Hans was drunk as an owl, so it came out as poetry. I made him repeat it so I wouldn’t forget. ‘Ax-age, sword-age, storm-age, wolf-age. The pursuing wolves will swallow sun and moon, earth’s bonds will crack and the mountains fall. The dwarfs will whimper and Yggdrasil tremble. The rainbow bridge will crack beneath the weight of giants, and none will flee that last battle. How fare the Aesir? How fare the elves? The sun will grow dark, the stars fall from the sky, the sea will invade the land, and fire will consume it.’ I think I got most of it.” “Today would have been my grandfather’s sixty-eighth birthday. I try not to think about his death, to put it out of my mind. There is never time. But today, I cannot help it.”
“It isn’t healthy, to wall away your grief like that.”
“You transported the only decent psychiatrist we had five years ago. The ones we have left are idiots or worse. And how would it seem if Madam Speaker were seeing a mind doctor?” She laughed bitterly. “But you must know you have done no better. Sometimes we will be sitting, and you read something or hear a song and I watch the tears drip down your cheeks. It reminds you, of what?”
“My father. Or my mother. Or Steel Rudi Scheel, or Rhett Rettaglia or Edmund Muslar or a dozen others. All of them dead and gone, violently.”
She got up and went to the bookshelf where she took down a Bible. Opening it, she read, “ ‘If a man strikes you on the left cheek, turn and offer him your right.’ ” She closed the book. “Every time our proud and stubborn people have gone to war, we have suffered for it.”
Hearing Hendricka stirring, she left the room, leaving him deep in thought.
Sunday(314)
“well, MY FRIEND, I HAVE LOOKED THROUGH THE PAPERS THAT
you sent to me and prayed over their meaning. We must come to the meat of it,” Beyers said awkwardly.
“And?” Vereshchagin asked gently.
“Anton, I have my sources just as you do. At night, in their cups, the USS people Matsudaira brought here pay no attention to the people serving them. They speak of lists.”
“Lists of proscriptions?”
“Yes. Long lists of fines, executions, deportations.”
‘They intend to tear the heart out of my people.” Vereshchagin said simply, “Yes.”
“It is an immoral policy.”
“Worse than this, it is a stupid policy.”
“Heer Matsudaira wishes to own us. We would become little better than slaves, those of us Sumi does not intend to ‘remove’ as harmful influences.” Beyers rested his hands against his sides.
Vereshchagin stared up at the soot-stained ceiling. “Yes. I expect them to dissolve your government in a few days. My battalion will undoubtedly be broken up. I will likely face criminal charges.”
Beyers made no reply, and after a few moments, Vereshchagin lowered his head and resumed speaking. “Finland stopped being our homeland years ago. You have heard me speak of a planet called Esdraelon. A cold and barren world, but a home for us, nonetheless. Esdraelon rebelled four years ago. They paid the price for failure. Now, my battalion has no home.”
“It seems that the peace I purchased from you is worth nothing now.” Beyers laid his hand on Vereshchagin’s arm. “And the rebels were right in saying that I only laid the seeds for a worse oppression. Why, Anton? Why do they do this?”
“With time dilation, nearly a half century has passed on Earth since I began serving. I suppose that trends are easier for me to see. For two hundred years, the same party has ruled Japan, and certain policies have remained long after they have outlived their usefulness. Those Japanese favored by the Imperial system have become convinced that they are entitled to more each year, and no Japanese politician will deny them this. As a result, the fabric of the Imperial system is fraying, and the economic ties which held it together are being replaced by bonds of force and coercion.”
“Don’t the men ruling Japan see this?”
“Some do. Many do not. Despite Japan’s everpresent xenophobia, the change has been slow. The best I can say is that governments, like men, become convinced of their own self-righteousness. It corrupts them over time. The Athenians turned their allies into tributaries, and the Romans did likewise. The Japanese, many of them, have begun to see their preeminent position as belonging to them by right. Did Raul tell you that when he served with the Eleventh Shock Battalion on Earth, their watchword was ‘Roman discipline and Samurai virtue’?” “Yes,” Beyers said, “that was why he learned all that silly Latin.”
“It disturbs me when a nation begins to measure itself in terms of its virtue. A revolutionary named Maximilien Robespierre once said that in governing a people, terror and virtue were intertwined; and that without virtue, terror is harmful, and without terror, virtue is impotent.”
“I am sure that he killed a lot of people, from the loftiest of motives,” Beyers said bitterly.
“He did, indeed.”
Beyers laid his hands across the table and looked at his friend. “Anton, I will tell you openly, my people will fight. They will not see all we have labored for here stripped from them or sit quietly while their friends and relations are arrested and murdered. They will fear that it will never end, and rightly so. Advise me.”
“I am an Imperial officer, Albert. It is not for me to decide or advise.”
“You are also an honest man.”
Vereshchagin forced himself to smile. “You are very melodramatic, Albert. There are four battalions and warships in our sky. Are you suggesting that we should commit treason together in a particularly futile and useless manner?”
Beyers spread his hands, unhappily. “Tell me, Imperial officer, what choice do my people have? We will fight, Anton. Although I will sound like something out of a book when I tell you this, if you say to me there is a single chance, we will rise up so that at the least the generations to come will have hope of being free. But you are wrong when you say that it is not for you to decide or advise. You, as much as anyone, have made us who we are. You cannot easily wipe your hands of us. I know, too, that you have made preparations.”
“Yes, we have made preparations, hoping this day would never come. I hope they will be sufficient, Albert. I hope they will be sufficient.” Vereshchagin added lightly, as if
to mask his feelings, “On Earth, there is a cycle of violence spinning toward destruction. Who are we to stand aside?”
He pulled a piece of paper from his breast pocket and slid it across the table. “Here is a list of persons. Speak with each of them. I need to know whether they will support a rebellion if we lead it, and whether they are willing to pay the price of failure. If each of them says yes, I will ask my people to follow me. I am not a pious man, but I think that we would lose our souls if we turned our backs on this world.”
“Astonishing.” Beyers picked up the list and squinted at it. He tapped it with his finger. “And if one of these betrays us?” “Then Colonel Sumi will execute both of us, and the problem will belong to someone else. You realize, of course, that if we attempt this and fail, the price the Afrikaner nation will pay will be terrible beyond anything you can imagine.”
“Yes, I am sure you are right in that.” Beyers folded the paper and tucked it away. “Assuming that we can get these persons to agree, how do we make everyone else understand?” “Colonel Sumi is already doing that for us.” Vereshchagin smiled. “And I hope to get Director Matsudaira to help.”
Monday(314)
SEATED IN HIS OFFICE, HORII STUDIED HANNA BRUWER’S FACE. HE
dispensed with the usual polite banalities. “Why have you come to see me, Madam Speaker?”
“There have been any number of incidents deliberately fomented by your security policemen,” Bruwer said boldly. “Matsudaira’s creatures openly boast that they will dissolve our government and place chains on our people. My grandfather died to stop the last rebellion. I came to you to see if there is any hope of averting the next one.”
The look on Captain Watanabe’s face was one of absolute horror.
Composed, Horii merely said, “I can only promise that I will do my best to look into the issues you raise.”
“I hoped that I would hear a different answer if I asked you directly.” Bruwer rose and began to leave, but stopped at the threshold to ask one final question. “Why do your people hate us so?”
“It is not a matter of hating,” Horii explained patiently, still seated. “A Zen master of sword fighting does not hate or harbor the wish to kill or destroy his opponent. He makes the proper movements, and if the opponent is killed, it is because he stood in the wrong place. A western psychoanalyst might say that unconsciously, the sword fighter is motivated by hate and the wish to destroy his opponent, but such a person would show little grasp of the spirit of Zen.” He paused. “Regrettably, if your people suffer, it is because they stood in the wrong place.” After she departed, Horii turned to Watanabe. “An interesting exchange of views. Well, what must be done, must be done as correctly as possible, neh? So please ask Captain Yanagita whether he has spoken with Lieutenant-Colonel Vereshchagin’s political officer, Captain Yoshida, to remind him of his sacred heritage and his duty.”
Watanabe bowed. “I will do so, honored Admiral.”
Tuesday(314)
WORKING FROM THE TERMINAL ON HIS DESK, HARJALO FELT THE
hum from the induction plate on his radio and heard a familiar voice. “Vereshchagin here.”
“What’s up, Anton? I thought you would be in a staff meeting. Where are you calling from?”
“I am out walking and using Thomas for a relay. I have been excused from attending Admiral Horii’s staff meetings, possibly for good.”
“Trouble,” Haijalo commented.
‘Trouble,” Vereshchagin agreed. “It is time, Matti. Please quietly begin dispersing noncombatants.”
In five years, Vereshchagin’s men had put down surprisingly strong roots into Suid-Afrikan soil. Even the non-Afrikaners among them had formed attachments, and soldiers’ family members were an obvious weakness for Colonel Sumi to strike at. The wives, already partially integrated into the battalion’s structure, would go to caverns carved out of the Drakensberg and Stormberg mountains. Other family members—parents, sisters, brothers, and persons with less formal attachments— would be quietly told to move out of the cities where they were most vulnerable.
Haijalo nodded. “What do we tell them?”
“Tell them that it is merely a precautionary measure.” “They won’t believe that for a moment. They’re going to know.”
“Then they will also understand why the less we say about this the better,” Vereshchagin replied.
“All right.” Haijalo slapped his hand on his desk softly. “So what happens nest?”
“We wait for Admiral Horii to show his hand. And we wait for Albert’s people to decide what they will do,” Vereshchagin said simply. “I am meeting with them tonight. I would like you to be present as well.”
“Let me know when and where. What happened last night? I heard indirectly that there were some political shenanigans going on.”
“Some fan. I gather that Admiral Horii suggested to Sumi and Matsudaira that they should make a modest effort to discredit Suid-Afrika’s political system before he dismissed the government, so Sumi suggested to Christos Claassen that he introduce a bill to make Afrikaans the planet’s sole official language. Sumi did not go so far as to overtly offer financial support, but Christos says that the smell of money permeated the room.” “Divide and conquer. That would certainly infuriate the cowboys. How did Christos react?”
“Christos thanked Sumi very expressively, then took his people into a back room and told them that this was intended to help Matsudaira and that he wouid personally crucify any Reformed National party politician who so much as raised the issue.” “How nice. Is there more?”
“Sumi was a little piggish. He also had Captain Yanagita tell two cowboy clan leaders that the admiral might be willing to recognize the cowboy country as an independent state. They tipped off Uwe Ebyl.”
“A cozy little puppet state. So what comes next?”
“My guess is that Sumi and Matsudaira will attempt a little discreet bribery. Hopefully our more venal politicians will at least demand cash in advance.”
“Never a dull moment,” Harjalo commented. “Is there anything else?”
“No. Vereshchagin out.”
* * *
CAPTAIN CHIHARU YOSHIDA ENTERED A SMALL CAFE IN BLOEMFON-
tein. Spotting Captain Yanagita in a small booth in the comer, he walked over and saluted. “Captain Yoshida, reporting as directed.”
“Yoshida, how good of you to come promptly. Please sit.” As Yoshida sat down, Yanagita pushed aside the tea he was drinking. “My visit to you is informal.” He waved his hand. “Waiter, several bottles of your best beer.”
The waiter, busy with other customers, ignored him. Yoshida said politely, “My sincere apologies for misunderstanding your invitation. I deeply regret that I was forced to set aside several very pressing matters to come and have strict orders to return as soon as practicable.”
“But some orders are more important than other orders, neh?” Yanagita said, slouching in his seat and smiling.
“Major Kolomeitsev is a veiy strict person in some matters, and it would avert a great deal of unpleasantness if I returned promptly,” Yoshida said, advancing the excuse to cut short Yanagita’s pleasantries.
“I understand your concern.” Yanagita sat upright and came to the point. “Admiral Horii and Colonel Sumi believe that as Vereshchagin’s political officer you have an unparalleled knowledge of the local political situation. The admiral regrets the previous necessity of leaving you in your present position, but he now believes the time to be propitious to give you a place on his staff.”
Yoshida inclined his head. “I am not worthy of such trust.” “The admiral disagrees. Indeed, he believes that all possibilities are open to you as long as you remember your heritage and display the correct attitude.”
“I do not feel that I am worthy of such honors,” Yoshida responded deferentially.
“I am sure that it would please your family. They live where, in Osaka?”
“Kyoto. I regret that my family probably considers
me already dead.”
“Nevertheless, with the correct degree of nihonrashisa, both Admiral Horii and Colonel Sumi feel that you will be able to make a significant contribution and believe this transfer to be in the national interest,” Yanagita said, clearly unwilling to accept no for an answer.
Nihonrashisa meant “Japanliness.”
Yoshida again inclined his head. “I greatly appreciate their
confidence in me. I would, however, request several days leave to put my affairs in order.”
“I will relay your request to the admiral. There are, however, a few matters which will not wait, and I have been asked to obtain answers from you.”
“I will, of course, attempt to reply to the best of my ability, but please understand my deepest regret that I am not always aware of all situations.”
“With your experience here, I am certain that you will be able to provide us with assistance. For example, which legislators would be open to receiving financial assistance?” Yanagita pulled out a small electronic notepad.
“I would not know this.”
“But surely you know whether any of them have an ostentatious life-style,” Yanagita asked, probing.
“Heer Hanneman, then, perhaps,” Yoshida said, unwilling to say more.
Yanagita recorded his answer. “And if an act of negative daring became necessary, who would be the best person?” he asked. “Negative daring” was an old euphemism for political assassination.
“I do not know, really. I quite regret my inability to make any reply. Perhaps one of the cowboy leaders, to reopen old wounds,” Yoshida said, flustered and deeply disturbed.
Oblivious to this, Yanagita wrote down Yoshida’s answer. “The rest of these questions can wait,” he said, relaxing now that the difficult part of his mission was behind him. “It must have been very strange for you to work under foreign officers.”
“One becomes used to most things,” Yoshida said politely.
THAT NIGHT, MORE THAN A HUNDRED OF SUID-AFRIKA’S LEADERS
Robert Frezza - [Colonial War 02] Page 14