Blood and Iron: The Conquests of the Chancellor

[MTB4884]

June 10, 900 AD

Sultan's Mansion
Khiva, Turkish Sultanate
10:00 a.m.

Sultan Kassim Timur-Lenk did his best to maintain a confident demeanor as he entered the hastily repurposed office to meet with the remaining members of his inner circle. Khiva was small enough that it had never been deemed worthy of a German Consulate, even in the long-ago days of his grandfather's rule when the Sultanate and the German Empire were friendly to one another. He had instead commandeered what was once the house of the wealthiest fur merchant in Khiva for his own use. The official New Topkapi Palace was still being set up, along with what passed for much of the Sultanate's government, in the city of Kerki some five hundred klicks to the northeast.

“Gentlemen, we face a great crisis, the worst in the long and honorable history of the Sultanate. I have one announcement before we proceed further.” The Sultan turned to one of the four Janissary guards at the door. “Send in Consul Atak.”

Moments later the Consul duly entered, and bowed low to his ruler. “Consul, it appears that you are among the last of my loyal subjects in the Foreign Ministry.” The Sultan's voice changed slightly as he continued, “I propose that you succeed Crown Prince Rasoul, who was killed, along with many others, in the German attack upon Bukhara. Has any man have any objection?”

The ensuing silence was broken, surprisingly enough, by the newly promoted Foreign Advisor. “O patient Sultan, as my first official act, I have the honour to tell you of good news this day. The great Crown Prince did indeed survive the..er...withdrawal from Bukhara. However, my sources tell me that he is now a German prisoner.”

“What? Rasoul still lives?”

“Yes, O great Sultan. However, the Crown Prince was gravely injured in the fighting, and was only recently taken to a German prisoner of war camp, specifically Stalag 1.”

“But Crown Prince Rasoul knows that I was to flee to Khiva! What if the Germans torture him for information?”

“O merciful Sultan, I doubt very much that they will do so. I myself have been to Stalag 1 and experienced the treatment of our prisoners of war firsthand. It was not a particularly pleasant experience, though I was not beaten or tortured. The vile Germans are most ruthless and dangerous, but they have a code of honor that they will not violate. This code forbids them to even interrogate high ranking prisoners.”

“Advisor Atak is quite right, O glorious Sultan,” said General Mehmet Aziz, newly promoted to succeed his late father. “I too was once a German prisoner at the same prison camp, and I was not tortured either, as strange as that may sound.”

“How foolish of the Germans to neglect an obvious source of information. It seems I have chosen my new Foreign Advisor well.” Sultan Kassim thought for a few moments. “Have the Germans demanded a ransom for the Crown Prince's release?”

“Not yet, O wise Sultan,” replied the Foreign Advisor. “There may well be a way to further ensure that the Germans are deceived as to your real location. What if I, as Foreign Advisor, were to travel to Kerki, and attempt to covertly negotiate with the Germans for his release?”

“Surely the evil, cruel Chancellor will never let Rasoul go!” objected the Sultan.

The new Foreign Advisor stood his ground. “No man can say for certain, O prudent Sultan. However, merely by making it known to the Germans that I am negotiating from Kerki, we shall likely deceive them into believing that you yourself are in Kerki as well.”

“It is worth a try,” decided the Sultan after a few moments. “Go, then, with all speed.” He gestured towards the door. “May your mission be crowned with success and glory.”

“I hear and obey, O mighty Sultan,” replied the Foreign Advisor, who stood, bowed low to his leader, and left the room at once.

“There is one other matter before we adjourn, gentlemen,” said the Sultan once his Foreign Advisor had left. “We need something, anything, to inspire our people to continue the resistance to the German onslaught. I have a plan to do just that, and I shall need your help, General Aziz.”

“I hear and obey, O mighty Sultan,” was the instant reply.

 

[MTB4884]

June 12, 900 AD

Keizer Track
Berlin, Germany
1:30 p.m.

Once again Chancellor Otto von Bismarck and most of his extended family were sitting in their private box at the racetrack, awaiting the start of the final race of the Chancellor's Cup in thirty minutes. The only exception was Prinz Hans, who had another entry in the race and so was in the owner's paddock. A knock sounded at the door, and Gunter, the lead Guardsman on duty, opened the door and spoke briefly with someone on the other side.

“My Chancellor, Ministers von Folich, von Landscheid, and von Offenbach.”

“Excellent, Gunter. Do send them in.” Moments later the Domestic, Foreign, and Military Ministers entered and bowed politely to their leader. “Welcome, gentlemen. I trust all three of you can stay for the actual race.”

“Most certainly, my Chancellor,” replied the Military Minister, as his colleagues nodded in agreement. “I suppose you asked us here early to prevent our interrupting you during the race itself with various important matters?”

“Just so, Hans,” said the Chancellor. “So, do you have any news to report?”

The Foreign Minister spoke up. “A minor matter, my Chancellor. The Turkish Prince Rasoul is safely in our custody at Stalag 1. Perhaps it would be prudent to contact whoever his replacement might be in the Sultanate with a view towards securing a ransom for his release?”

“Interesting, Ludwig. What did you have in mind?”

“It is not the ransom itself that interests me, my Chancellor. Instead, we may be able to confirm the initial reports that the Sultan is setting up his new capital at Kerki.”

“A pity that our vanguard Panther unit did not catch him fleeing Bukhara along with his son.” The Chancellor mused for a few moments. “Hans, do you agree with Ludwig?”

“I do, my Chancellor,” replied the Military Minister. “I have my doubts that the evil Sultan is willing to pay a ransom in any event, even for the return of his son and heir. It is of course possible that the Sultan is fleeing to a different sanctuary. He has proven to be most elusive.”

“Then, Hans, we shall chase him, catch him, and bring him back to Berlin to face appropriate German justice. I do not care how long it takes.” The Chancellor paused for a moment. “I trust you are sending Panther units even now to assault Kerki?”

The Military Minister looked uncomfortable for a moment, though he recovered quickly. “I regret, my Chancellor, that we are rather overextended just now. I think it is better that we wait to consolidate our position and repair and replace our damaged Panther tanks before we renew our attack on Kerki, among other places. We estimate that it will take five or six months to do so.”

“But that leaves the Sultan loose for another year! There must be a better solution.”

The Domestic Minister spoke up. “My Chancellor, it will take the Sultan far longer than that to properly set up his government after all the disasters we have already inflicted upon the Sultanate. He has already fled from Samarkand and Bukhara within the last eighteen months. I shall leave the military strategy to Hans, but I can tell you that the Sultan will be most occupied in trying to reestablish some measure of authority over the territory he still controls.”

“The Ministers are right, Father,” put in Prinz Helmut. “After all, the initial failed attack at Bukhara is a perfect example of what can happen if we move too hastily. Kerki will still be there when we are ready to resume our offensive.”

“Then so it shall be,” decided the Chancellor. “Proceed, then, gentlemen, as you have said.”

“It shall be done, my Chancellor," replied the Military Minister, as his colleague nodded in agreement.

“Excellent. Now, is there anything else?”

“A question, Father, if I may.” Prinz Helmut turned to the Military Minister. “What if the Sultan counterattacks our forces?”

“Let him try, Prinz Helmut.” The confidence in the Military Minister's voice was readily apparent. “Most of the Sultan's remaining Sipahi cavalry were caught unprepared in the Siberian taiga forests when war broke out. We might see a Sipahi division or two make some sort of diversionary attack, but nothing more. You will of course recall that no such attempt was made last year.”

“A good point, Hans. I will of course insist that you remain vigilant. An animal is most dangerous when wounded, and the same is true of an enemy.”

“Of course, my Chancellor. That was a favorite maxim of my revered predecessor.”

"Indeed it was, Hans." Satisfied, the Chancellor turned to one of the Guardsmen standing post at the door. “Gunter, will you send the waiters back in, please?”

 

[MTB4884]

July 1, 900 AD

GNS Greyciv
Bismarck Sea, 450 klicks northeast of New Pune
Dawn

Excerpt from Tales of the Barbarians, p. 2, 57, Franz Zeletmann, Ritter Press, Berlin, 1120.

“It is all too often believed, even in these enlightened times, that the original cultures of the barbaric peoples of the world had no value at all. Certainly their propensity for violence and conflict, while undeniably present, has frequently been rather exaggerated. One should recall that even the German Empire was a far more militaristic and warlike society in the days when fighting “the barbarian threat!” was a common rallying cry...”

“...Many of the original barbaric peoples of the South Seas were considered a grave threat by mariners until relatively recently. The mystique which attached to these remote waters by distance and ignorance was only enhanced by their proximity to the Indian Republic. The little information obtainable was generally highly colored by great exaggeration, if not outright fabrications. There are quite a few stories, for example, of barbarians in small skiffs and galleys overwhelming Indian frigates and galleons by sheer numbers, if not superior military skill and seamanship. The often cited battles of GNS Wuhjah and GNS Inexist were actually fought primarily against the dangerous pirate frigates, while the barbarian galleys were relegated to support roles.”

“What is less well known is the folk memory retained by the barbaric people themselves. They did not have a recognizable written language, and so oral tradition and storytelling were quite important to them. These stories grew into lengthy songs, which would then be sung on various ceremonial occasions. One such song, from the Melanesians, has been translated into German and reproduced below. Several obscure references are left intact. The author's one regret is that most of the beauty of the original poetry has been lost.”

“Arise, you valiant warriors!
Another foe is there to fight!
Awaken the spirits of the deep!

Recall the battles of the past!
Remember the call of the grey men,
the men of renown!
Remember the victory over the men of purple!
Remember the victory over the ships of purple!

We call to the spirits of the deep!
We fight a new foe today!
We fight a foe of grey today!...”

“Admiral on the bridge!”

“As you were, everyone,” replied Admiral Franz Keatich, as he had said every time he came on duty aboard Greyciv. It was a bright, clear morning, as was often the case in these remote tropical waters. There was only a little light fog clinging to the island shores three klicks or so to the south.

“Anything to report?”

“Nothing, sir...wait.” The radar operator adjusted his console for a moment. “Barbarian galleys, bearing 135! Range, 2500 meters and closing!” His warning was echoed a moment later by the starboard lookout. “Two barbarian sails sighted, sir! They're headed toward us!”

“Battle stations!” A loud klaxon began to sound as the crew of Greyciv readied the ship for combat. The three main gun turrets swiveled independently into firing position. It took just under a minute before the fire control officer announced, “All guns manned and ready, sir. Lead enemy ship targeted!”

“Fire!”

The morning stillness was shattered as the German battlecruiser fired a broadside of six shells towards the enemy ships, each loaded with 200 kilograms of military-grade explosives. Moments later six huge plumes of water vapor and debris rose high into the air. All that was left by the time the bass rumbles of the explosions reached Greyciv were a few unidentifiable bits of floating wreckage.

“Stupid barbarian fools!” muttered Admiral Keatich under his breath. Aloud he ordered, “Send a contact report to the Admiralty. Advise them that we engaged and destroyed two light barbarian galleys, with no damage or casualties to Greyciv.”

“At once, sir,” replied the radio operator as he bent to his task.

 

[MTB4884]

July 5, 900 AD

Gobi Radar Station
25 klicks northwest of occupied Hotan, Germany
6:00 a.m.

Three knocks came on the door to the main radar shed, precisely on time. “Come in!”

Two German officers duly came in. “Good morning, Hans. We're here to relieve you and Siegfried.”

Hans leaned back in his chair at his duty station. “Excellent, Axel. Another quiet, boring shift, out here on the frontier. No contacts, unless you count the occasional bird.” There was an ironic tone in his voice as he continued, “At least we get combat pay, and we never even have to fire a shot.”

“Don't get too comfortable, Hans. The Turks are still out here, lurking in their mountain fortress at Khiva to the southwest. We are the first line of defense if they should try something.”

“They could have tried something last year, and didn't. Those worthless cowards are too busy fleeing from our forces to bother us here. After all, we only built the radar station to support the attack on Kazan, and since we took the city more than a year ago, the Turks have nothing to gain even if they did attack us.”

“So you have said many times, Hans. The key, if you please?”

Hans got up, and handed over the key to his relief. “I hope you have a good watch, Axel.”

“I will, if it is as boring as yours was,” replied Axel. Suddenly the radar console beeped. “Wait a moment, Hans. Are we expecting any reinforcements?”

“Not that I know of.” Hans looked at the console himself, once again the disciplined radar operator, and flipped one of the switches. “Confirmed, Axel. Something is coming, but it's from the west, not the east.” His blood ran cold as he realized the significance of the small green blips on the radar screen. “It's a Turkish Sipahi attack, in at least division strength!”

The next set of actions were performed quickly and efficiently, just as they had been done many times in drills. The other duty officer turned the proper switches to tie in to the main public address system. “Attention! Turkish cavalry approaching from the west! This is no drill!”

Outside, alarm calls were sounding, rousing the German cavalry troopers of the 24th Vanadorn. Everyone peered into the early morning light, looking for any signs of the enemy. They would not have long to wait.

Suddenly the sand dunes were swarming with Turkish Sipahi riders, shouting like demons as they came on, hoping to overrun the German defenders. Many of the first rank fell to German rifle fire, but there were simply too many to stop so easily. The main body of the enemy crashed into the German defenses, and what began as an easily observable enemy attack turned into a series of desperate hand-to-hand battles, as Turkish scimitars and pistols clashed with German cavalry sabers.

Meanwhile, the duty officers at the radar shed had just made contact with Hotan. “Gobi Station, report your situation, over!” Suddenly something smashed into the shed door, and a moment later two Turkish raiders burst in. The one on the left went down at once from a well-placed bullet from Axel's 9mm pistol, as Hotan vainly continued to shout over the radio. “Gobi Station, report! Report!”

 

[MTB4884]

July 5, 900 AD

Chancellor's Office, Imperial Palace
Berlin, Germany
4:30 p.m.

Chancellor Otto von Bismarck smiled to himself as he signed the last of his paperwork for the afternoon. I can finally relax a little early for a change! Suddenly the intercom rang. “Yes?”

“Minister von Bohr to see you, my Chancellor,” said Gunter.

Now what? “Send him in.” Presently the Science Minister duly came into the office and bowed to his leader. “Good afternoon, my Chancellor. I am sorry to disturb you, but there is an interesting matter to bring to your attention.”

“Oh?”

“Yes, my Chancellor. You see, the medical research program of Dr. Schweitzer at New Lahore has already begun to bear fruit. We think that it will soon be possible to cure most, if not all, forms of cancer. The new “Internet” program will only assist this process.”

“That's wonderful, Niels! There will be many in the Empire who will rejoice at this news!”

“Yes, my Chancellor. There is, however, a drawback. It will be necessary to complete our genetics research in order to set up the massive medical program which will be required. I have spoken with the Domestic Minister, who had a most useful suggestion. We are currently working on the space contact program, better known as SETI, in Constantinople. It may be possible to temporarily convert this work back to shipbuilding, with a view to returning to medical research once our genetic techniques are perfected within the next two or three years.”

“I see. Where, then, shall we build this SETI program?”

“The Imperial Science Ministry recommends that we do so right here in Berlin. We will need to convert our production from Panther construction to the SETI program. It should take five or six years to complete the program here in Berlin.”

That means five or six fewer Panther tank divisions! Hans will have a fit when he hears this proposal! “That is an...interesting proposal, Niels. Have you spoken to the Military Minister about any of this?”

“Why no, my Chancellor. Surely we have enough Panthers to fight the Turks even now. The program will only affect Berlin, and so we can still construct tanks in other cities.”

“I will still want to hear from Hans before making a final decision.” The Chancellor reached for the intercom, only to have it ring of its own accord before he could press the proper button. “Yes?”

“Minister von Landscheid is here to see you with urgent news, my Chancellor.”

“Excellent. I was about to ask you to contact him in any event, Gunter. Send him in.” A few moments later the Military Minister duly entered the office and, after a polite nod to his colleague, bowed to his leader as usual. “Good afternoon, my Chancellor. I have some serious news from Hotan and a potentially useful plan to uncover the remaining Turkish spies in the Empire to propose.”

“All right, Hans. Let us hear the news from Hotan.”

“Yes, my Chancellor. Earlier today, at roughly dawn local time, a Sipahi cavalry division attacked the Gobi radar station, just northwest of Hotan. Fortunately the 24th Vanadorn Cav was stationed at the facility, and while they suffered serious casualties, succeeded in repelling the Turkish attack. I recommend that we send reinforcements to the area.” The Minister belatedly began to unfold a map of the area, only to be waved off by the Chancellor. “Approved, Hans. And, your proposal?”

“Yes, my Chancellor. We have a team of experts going through the ruins of the Emniyet headquarters in Bukhara, in the hopes of learning about Turkish espionage plans against us. Our codebreakers at Project Enigma believe they have broken another contact code.”

“Contact code, Hans?”

“Ah. We believe we can set up a clandestine meeting with the remaining Turkish agents here in Berlin. My plan is conceptually simple, but potentially dangerous. The idea is to contact the agents, and order them to attack a seemingly important and vulnerable target, which requires the presence of all the available Turkish agents in the Empire.”

“Interesting, Hans. So, we gather all the bad apples in one place, the better to catch them all.”

“Just so, my Chancellor.”

Chancellor Bismarck leaned back in his custom-made chair for a moment. “There is another matter which affects the war effort. The Science Minister proposes that we return Constantinople to battlecruiser production for the next two or three years, with a view to quickly build the extensive medical research which will be required to learn the techniques for curing cancer.”

“That is amazing, my Chancellor. Surely, Niels, you are to be congratulated for making such progress on an issue that affects so many in the Empire.”

“Yes,” said the Chancellor. “There is another part of the plan, Hans, that you probably will not like very much. We still need the SETI project which Constantinople is currently working on. Niels proposes that we build the project here in Berlin.”

The doubts of the Military Minister showed on his face for a moment, though he recovered quickly. “And how long, Niels, will this SETI project take?”

“Only four to six years, Hans. Do we really need a few more Panther divisions so badly?”

“We could have taken Kerki a month ago if we had another five Panther divisions readily available, Niels. We need all the Panthers we can get to finally crush the Turks once and for all. Surely there is a better option?”

“Hans, this is the best option. I have spoken with Axel, who confirms that Berlin is the best alternative to build the SETI project quickly.”

“All right, gentlemen,” decided the Chancellor. “Niels, you will proceed with the conversion at Constantinople, since even Hans is agreeable to that portion of your plan. Perhaps it would be best if we finish the Panther division here in Berlin which we are working on now, which should take place by the end of the year at current rates, if I recall correctly.”

“Just so, my Chancellor,” confirmed the Military Minister.

“Very well, then. We will build this SETI project of yours, Niels. It is merely a matter of where. Hans, am I correct that your current battle plan is to resume our offensive into the remaining Turkish lands in January or February next year?”

“Just so, my Chancellor.”

“Then, gentlemen, may I suggest that we make the final decision as to where to build the SETI program at that time? That gives Hans the chance to determine what our precise manpower needs are to continue our lightning war, and it gives us a chance to find another, better option.”

Neither the Science Minister nor the Military Minister looked particularly happy. It took several seconds before the Science Minister finally said, “As you command, my Chancellor.” The Military Minister nodded in agreement.

“Excellent, gentlemen. Hans, I want to see your precise plan for uncovering the Turkish spies in the Empire on my desk as soon as possible.”

“It shall be done, my Chancellor.”

“Very well, then, gentlemen. Dismissed.”

 

[MTB4884]

August 5, 900 AD

City Hall
Kerki, Turkish Sultanate
Noon

“O great Advisor, the German emissaries are here.”

Foreign Advisor Atak, recently promoted from a mere Consul, smiled at his aide's report. “Excellent. Send them in.” He stood to welcome the German emissaries as protocol demanded.

A few moments later an elderly German man, leaning on an ivory cane, hobbled into the Advisor's office, followed by a much younger aide. “Welcome, Minister von Offenbach,” said the Foreign Advisor genially in perfect German. “It is good to see a familiar face, even one on the opposite side of this terrible war.”

“Indeed it is, Advisor Atak,” replied the German Foreign Minister in fluent Turkish. “My congratulations, by the way, on your promotion. This is my aide Hans Sachs.” The elderly German smiled as he continued, in German, “I trust we can make some progress in the matter of the Sultan's son and heir. It is good that you yourself know what what it is like to be a prisoner of war.”

“Perhaps we can both sit down,” said the Foreign Advisor. Only a slight tremor in his voice betrayed his true emotions at the moment. “The fate of the beloved Crown Prince is of great interest to the Sultan and the Turkish people. Much anger will come if any harm befalls him.”

“So I would imagine. Perhaps it would be best to get to the point. What precisely do you offer, on behalf of your Sultan, for his release?”

“Ah. No doubt, Minister, you are aware that a small raid was conducted on one of the Empire's radar stations a month ago?” His distinguished guest nodded, intent on discovering what the Turks were up to. “I should tell you that we succeeded in taking two German radar officers prisoner, even though the raid itself did not overrun the German position.”

“And your proof for this is?” asked the Foreign Minister skeptically.

Two German identity disks were tossed onto the desk. “These two prisoners are more important than one might imagine, Minister. You see, they know all there is to know about the strange field of radar. This information will be most useful to Turkish scientists. I am quite certain that, given time, they can be persuaded into...cooperating with us.”

“You mean that you will beat and torture these poor men into submission,” was the bitter reply. There was a long pause, which was finally broken by the Foreign Minister. “One other question, then. I trust you have the letters for their next of kin?”

A flash of surprise was visible on the Foreign Advisor's features, though he recovered quickly. “A small oversight, Minister. I shall have that matter attended to within twenty-four hours. I should also say, however, that at least one of these men was injured during the raid, though I am not certain which. Surely he will be even more vulnerable to...persuasion?”

“We shall see,” replied the Minister grimly. “There are of course a great many Turkish prisoners in German custody. You yourself have said that much anger will occur if anything befalls the Crown Prince. I can assure you that the Chancellor and the German people will not take the torture of German prisoners well. I fear the results if you carry out this threat.”

“All the more reason, Minister, why we should conduct an exchange as quickly as possible. Perhaps you and the good Herr Sachs should report the situation to Berlin, and return here in three days time? That will give me the time to provide the letters you have requested.”

“A wise and statesmanlike proposal, Advisor Atak.” The Foreign Minister stood up, with the aid of his cane. “I can see that the Sultan chose the Crown Prince's successor as Foreign Advisor well. It is a pity that we are on opposite sides of this war.”

“So it is, Minister. Until Friday, then.”

 

[MTB4884]

August 7, 900 AD

Family Quarters, Imperial Palace
Berlin, Germany
6:55 p.m.

“So, Traudl, what did you learn today while I was away at Leipzig?”

The young Prinzessin Traudl beamed at her father, Prinz Helmut. “Meister Mueller was telling me all about the last days of the Songhai Kingdom. Those sneaky Turks were up to their usual tricks even back then. Their Consul Atak even tried to help the Songhai king to escape.”

“And how did he do that, Traudl?”

“Meister Mueller said that the Songhai...er...dow?...that the king was aboard was flying a Turkish flag when our battlecruiser intercepted her off the coast. He said that was one of the difficult decisions a leader has to make. Admiral...um...Heinz opened fire anyway despite the false Turkish flag, and the Songhai king was killed in the battle.”

“It was not much of a battle, Traudl,” replied Prinz Helmut. “A Songhai dhow is no match for a German battlecruiser. Bismarck destroyed the dhow with a single shot, and only Prince Mansa survived, though not for long.”

“Traudl is quite right,” mused the Chancellor, who had been listening to the conversation. “King Mansa's futile sortie with impi spearmen against our Panther tanks will forever stand as one of the most foolish military decisions in history.”

“She is also right about then Consul Atak, Father,” put in Prinz Helmut. Both men shared a look for a moment. “Perhaps our youngest historian will be helpful when Deputy Minister Gesler reports to the Palace tonight.”

“Very well.” Two waiters entered, carrying dessert trays laden with small bowls of ice cream. Prinzessin Traudl had just taken her first spoonful when the chamberlain came in and spoke to her grandfather in a low voice. “Very well, Rudi. Tell the Deputy Minister that Helmut and Prinzessin Traudl and I will meet him in my study shortly.” The Chancellor and Prinz Helmut stood up, as the Prinzessin looked on in dismay. “Do we have to meet him now?”

“I fear so, Traudl,” replied her father. “It would never do to keep the Deputy Foreign Minister waiting unnecessarily. This is one of the inconveniences of leadership that never seems to get into the official histories of the Empire.”

“Yes, Father,” said the Prinzessin, taking a longing look at her bowl of ice cream as she stood up from her place at the table. Presently the little party arrived at the Chancellor's study, where the Deputy Foreign Minister was waiting.

“My apologies for disturbing you, my Chancellor,” said the Deputy Minister, bowing to his leader as he did so. “Have you made a decision as to the...er...exchange?”

“I have, Ludwig. Perhaps it would be well for you to briefly explain the situation, for young Traudl's benefit.”

The Deputy Minister looked a little nervous for a moment. “Er...yes, my Chancellor.” He turned to the young Prinzessin. “Minister von Offenbach is even now negotiating in the enemy city of Kerki with the new Turkish Foreign Minister Atak. The Turks propose that we release Crown Prince Rasoul, the heir to the Sultan, in return for two German radar officers taken prisoner recently.”

Everyone looked at the Prinzessin for a moment. “Deputy Minister, is that the same man who was once Consul Atak, and who tried to deceive us during the Songhai War?”

“It is indeed the same man, Prinzessin Traudl. There is another difficulty. We do not have absolute proof that the two Germans in question are still alive in Turkish custody.”

“Then, Grandfather, you must not do this! This new Turkish Advisor is a sneaky, treacherous Turk even by Turkish standards!” Both the Chancellor and Prinz Helmut smiled a little, while the Deputy Minister looked at the Prinzessin disapprovingly.

“It is more complex than that, Traudl,” said Prinz Helmut. “I believe now Foreign Advisor Atak provided the identity disks of the two Germans in question to the Foreign Minister, and threatened to have them tortured for information concerning our radar systems. This could be most serious for the Empire if the Advisor is telling the truth.”

“So, Traudl,” asked the Chancellor genially, “what should I, as Chancellor, do? Should I release the Crown Prince as the Turks wish?”

Again everyone looked at Traudl for her reply. “I...don't know, Grandfather,” she finally said. “I don't trust the Turks, especially this evil Advisor Atak, but we can't let secret German information fall into enemy hands, no matter what.”

“Fortunately, Traudl, I have an idea or two of my own.” The Chancellor now turned to his guest. “Ludwig, I want you to tell the Foreign Minister that he is to insist upon receiving the next of kin letters before a deal can be struck. Have him report back with the Turkish reply.”

“It shall be done, my Chancellor.”

“Very well, then. Dismissed.” The Deputy Foreign Minister duly bowed again to his leader and took his leave.”

“I don't understand, Grandfather. Why did you ask for a...letter from the Turks?”

“Two reasons, Traudl. These letters are typically written by a prisoner to his immediate family, and contain personal information that only a close relative would know. It is been our practice to have high ranking prisoners write such a letter for quite some time. It is quite possible that the Turks fabricated the identity disks of their prisoners, for example, but such a letter is much harder to fake. The second reason is to gain a little more time to consider the matter. I do not trust the Turks any more than you do. Your brother Franz, for example, was nearly assassinated by them less than a year ago.” Prinzessin Traudl gasped in horror as the intercom on the desk rang. “Yes?”

“Minister von Landscheid to see you, my Chancellor.”

“Excellent, Gunter. Send the Minister to my study, and then find Prinz Franz, and tell him to come to my study as well.”

“As you command, my Chancellor,” replied Gunter before the intercom clicked off.

“Why is the Military Minister coming here, Grandfather?”

“A matter of state, Traudl. He told me earlier that he has a specific plan to catch the Turkish spy ring here in Berlin. That is why I want your brother Franz here. He deserves to know how we will stop the spy ring which threatened his life.”

“May I stay, Grandfather? Perhaps I can help too?” The Chancellor merely gestured to Prinz Helmut. “All right, Traudl. You can stay for this meeting as well.”

 

[MTB4884]

August 7, 900 AD

Chancellor's Study, Imperial Palace
Berlin, Germany
7:15 p.m.

Military Minister Hans von Landscheid duly entered the Chancellor's study. Any surprise he might have felt at seeing Prinzessin Traudl and Prinz Franz as well as his leader and Prinz Helmut was well hidden. “Welcome, Hans,” said the Chancellor. “I trust you have completed your plan to catch the evil Turkish spies and traitors?”

“Indeed, my Chancellor. I have devised an added refinement, though I fear it will be difficult for you and for Prinz Helmut in particular.”

“Oh?”

“Yes, my Chancellor. The first phase of the operation is even now underway. We need a seemingly tempting target for the Turkish agents here in the Empire. The original plan was to tell them that Lady Notburga, Prinzessin Elsa, and Miss Lisle will be at Krogir und Knopf in two days time, ostensibly to shop for bridesmaid's dresses. I have myself spoken with Herr Krogir, who is quite willing to cooperate with us. The store will be open for an hour after the normal closing time, in theory to allow these ladies to shop without undue distractions.”

“Let me guess, Hans. You plan to have the store occupied by our own agents, disguised as ordinary shoppers, in order to lure the enemy into position for our trap.”

“That is essentially accurate, my Chancellor. One of the suspected enemy agents is a new worker at the store. Krogir und Knopf has hired quite a few workers recently, now that they have furs readily available for the first time in years.”

Prinz Helmut in particular looked very uncomfortable. “You mentioned, Minister, a refinement of the plan that Father and I would not like. What precisely is it?”

“Ah. It occurred to me on the way here to the Palace that we could also tell these Turkish agents that Prinzessin Traudl will be there as well. Surely this will allay any suspicions on their part that this is in fact a German trap.”

The Chancellor merely gestured to his son, as everyone else turned to Prinz Helmut for his reaction. Prinz Helmut said, in a carefully neutral voice, “Traudl, I want you to go and find your mother. Ask her to come here at once.”

“Yes, Father,” replied Traudl, and quickly rushed out of the room, as any other young girl might have done. The Prinz then turned to the Military Minister. “I can see why you did not think I would like your plan, Minister. How precisely do you intend to ensure my wife and daughter's safety?”

“It is not as risky as you might think, Prinz Helmut. You see, unlike the coming of age ball for Prinz Franz, we now know who our targets are. I have myself seen the agent at Krogir und Knopf, on the guise of purchasing a new hat and coat. A full company of trained infantrymen will be standing by. I am most confident that we will succeed, assuming you are agreeable.”

The Prinz was silent for several seconds. “I would have preferred, Minister, that I myself was the one who had to stand into danger. I do think that you are on the right track.” He turned to the Chancellor. “What do you think, Father?”

“I must admit, Hans, that I have not heard a plan I liked less in quite some time. Still, we have had enough difficulties with Turkish spies and traitors. You may proceed...” A brief commotion at the door interruped him. “I believe Notburga has just found out about the Minister's plan.”

“Do you suppose, Minister, that you and I could climb out the window to safety?” asked Prinz Helmut, a twinkle in his eyes. The door opened a fraction, and one of the Imperial Guardsmen on duty said, “Er...my Chancellor, Lady Notburga is here.”

“OPEN THAT DOOR THIS INSTANT!!” thundered a familiar voice from outside.

“I think not, Helmut,” said the Chancellor, shaking his head. “We must now face the music together.”

 

[Princeof Persia]

Keep it up! Still lurking from time to time

 

[MTB4884]

OOS: Thanks, Princeof Persia! Glad to see you back in the CivIII forums, even if only as a lurker.

Next update coming right up.

***
August 9, 900 AD

Krogir und Knopf
Berlin, Germany
8:00 p.m.

Prinzessin Traudl looked excitedly out the window as the staff car pulled up to the main entrance of the famous Krogir und Knopf clothing store. “Now remember, Traudl, you must not do anything too out of the ordinary. It is quite possible that you will not even notice anything unusual.”

“Yes, Mother.” She, along with her mother and two bodyguards in plain clothes, walked into the store. “Pardon me,” asked Lady Notburga, “where are the bridal furs?”

“They are now on the third floor, madam.” replied the clerk.

“Excellent. Thank you very much. Come, Traudl.” Mother and daughter began to walk over to the elevator as Miss Lisle and Prinzessin Elsa approached the clerk. Presently they arrived on the third floor. Traudl was surprised that she could not see the squad of Imperial Guardsmen she had expected. Instead, she saw numerous displays of fine furs, in all manner of shapes and sizes. It did not take long before she was completely engrossed in shopping.

“What do you think of this one, dear?” asked her mother, holding out a fine blue fox stole. “I have not seen the like since I was your age.”

“It is lovely, Mother,” replied Traudl, gently stroking the delicate fur. Suddenly, the main lights overhead flickered once, and then went out completely, plunging the store into near total darkness. “This way, Lady Notburga!” ordered her bodyguard as a second bodyguard scooped up Prinzessin Traudl. They quickly rushed to the back, where the main offices were. Two more guardsmen were there, holding small electric torches. One held open a door marked, 'Private'. “In there, please!”

A third Guardsman was inside the office, closing the shutters. He spoke into a radio as they entered. “Birds three and four secured. We will hold position here.”

“What's going on, Siegfried?” asked Lady Notburga. “What happened to the lights?”

“A small complication, Lady Notburga,” replied the Guardsman. “Please, will you and the Prinzessin sit down here, on the floor behind the desk?” Prinzessin Traudl noticed, even in the dim light, that one small pillow and one large pillow had already been placed in position for them. “Are Lisle and Elsa all right?” persisted Lady Notburga as she and Traudl sat down as requested.

“Quite so, Lady Notburga.” Siegfried, his 9mm Mauser pistol drawn and ready, got down behind the desk as well. “They are safe in the main vault in the basement. We must keep our voices low, so as not to betray our position to the enemy.”

“The Turks won't get us, will they?” whispered Prinzessin Traudl fearfully.

“I think not, Prinzessin. We were prepared for the enemy spies to kill the power to the building. Six Guardmen are in the corridor outside. No one else is getting through that door until the all-clear.” They could hear three individual gunshots, followed immediately by a storm of Schliessen carbine fire. Prinzessin Traudl clung to her mother's arm in the sudden silence that followed. What just happened?

Suddenly, the electric lights flickered once, and then came back on as Siegfried's radio crackled. “Condition green, all well. Procedure Dieter.”

“Copy that.” was the terse reply.

Mother and daughter looked at each other for a few moments. “Is...is it over?”

“Almost, Lady Notburga,” said Siegfried in a normal voice. “We have been asked to remain here for a few moments, until Minister von Landschied can arrive.”

“You know all that from that short message?” asked Prinzessin Traudl in wonderment.

“Yes, Prinzessin. We were well prepared for this mission.” Presently the radio crackled again. “Guardsman Siegfried, this is the Military Minister. Procedure Dieter, Anton Fourteen. Please escort your charges outside.”

“At once, Minister.” Siegfried set the safety catch on his pistol and holstered it as Lady Notburga and Prinzessin Traudl duly stood up. All three duly went outside, where the Military Minister, a rare smile on his face, beamed at them. “I trust that you and the Prinzessin are fine?”

“What happened, Minister? Did you catch the evil Turkish spies?”

“Most of them, Lady Notburga. Two foolishly chose to fight it out, and paid for it with their lives.” There was no trace of sympathy for them in the Minister's voice. “There is someone whom I would like you to meet, if you please.”

“All right, Minister,” said Lady Notburga uncertainly.

 

[MTB4884]

August 9, 900 AD

Krogir und Knopf
Berlin, Germany
9:00 p.m.

The Military Minister turned to one of the Guardsmen behind him. “Send in the special prisoner.” Both Lady Notburga and Prinzessin Traudl gasped in surprise as they recognized the clerk, now in handcuffs, who had directed them to the fur department less than an hour ago.

“Lady Notburga, this man is actually a Turkish spy. His assignment was to confirm that you and the Prinzessin were indeed here, and then to give the signal to cut the electric power to the building so that his comrades could attack.”

“You...you...vile, despicable wretch! What do you have to say for yourself!” demanded Lady Notburga, her surprise and shock replaced with a rapidly growing fury.

“I will tell you nothing,” replied the prisoner.

“I think you will,” said the Military Minister in a cold tone. “The laws and customs of war are not at all forgiving towards spies and traitors such as yourself. We have ways of making you talk.”

“Thumbscrews and hot coals, Minister?” asked the Prinzessin.

“Nothing so crude, Prinzessin Traudl. Such methods are only for the brutal and ignorant. We Germans stress efficiency and practicality over simple torture and sadism. We know, for example, that this traitor was part of a three-man Turkish cell.” He turned towards the prisoner. “You will tell us right now who your two contacts were or else you will discover for yourself what I am talking about!”

“Never!”

The Minister smiled for a moment, though with little humor. “I hoped you would say that.” He then took out a 9mm Mauser pistol from his jacket pocket, and handed it to Lady Notburga, much to her surprise. “I could simply let Lady Notburga extract the necessary information from you. I am certain she would be delighted to assist us. You and your evil comrades put her and her little girl in danger this very evening.”

The noise of the Mauser pistol's safety catch clicking off was loud in the sudden silence. “Minister, where would you like me to shoot this worthless, disgusting traitor?”

“Surprise me, Lady Notburga. Just don't kill him...yet.”

“But...you can't!” pleaded the prisoner.

“Can't I? Tell us what we want to know, or else!”

“All right, all right. I'll talk! One is simply called Mehmet, and the other Rasoul. Both were here tonight! We were just going to hold the prisoners in order to ransom our own Crown Prince!”

“As I thought,” replied the Minister. He took two photographs from his pocket. “Are these the two men in question?”

“Yes, yes. Just don't kill me!”

“Excellent. You see what you can do when you try?” The Minister then turned to Lady Notburga. “May I have my pistol back, if you please?”

“But...but...”

“Trust me, Lady Notburga, this traitorous wretch is not worth it. Besides, he may be able to tell us something else of value.”

“All right, Minister,” said Lady Notburga as she put the safety catch back on and handed over the pistol. “You..knew all about the spy ring?”

“Mostly, Lady Notburga. I would never have suggested this plan otherwise. There are still a few minor details to discover.” He gave a small gesture, and two of the Guardsmen quickly hustled the prisoner away.

Suddenly they heard footsteps approaching, and a moment later Prinz Helmut entered the corridor. “Helmut!” “Father!” All three reunited family members embraced one another for a few seconds. “Are you both all right?” asked Prinz Helmut.

“Oh, Helmut! I almost killed a man tonight!”

“Not so, Lady Notburga,” said the Military Minister. He then took his pistol from his pocket, clicked off the safety, aimed it at the wall clock, and pulled the trigger. Prinzessin Traudl in particular winced at the sound of the gunshot. Surprisingly, the clock appeared undamaged.

“What??...How?!?...”

“Blanks, Lady Notburga,” explained the Minister. “After all, you might have missed the traitor and hit something or someone important had the pistol been loaded with live rounds. Fortunately, the traitor did not know that. It should be a simple matter to persuade him and our other prisoners to help us clear up the few remaining details we still need to complete our work tonight.”

 

[MTB4884]

August 11, 900 AD

City Hall
Kerki, Turkish Sultanate
11:58 a.m.

Foreign Minister Ludwig von Offenbach was nervous as he arrived at the City Hall, though it was not the glares he received from the Turkish defenders which made him so. Fortunately he had only to wait a minute or two before the same minor official he had seen six days earlier approached him. “The Advisor will see you now.” Once again the German emissaries were taken upstairs to the office of the new Turkish Foreign Advisor Atak.

“Welcome, Minister von Offenbach,” said the Foreign Advisor in German as they entered. “I trust you have had ample opportunity to verify the letters which I myself provided to you. What is your answer?”

Here we go. “That will take a little time to explain. I received word from Berlin late last night that the next of kin letters appear to be authentic. However, I was also told of a most distressing development, which even you may not be aware of.”

“And what might that be?”

“I was also given extensive information concerning a most brazen Turkish espionage operation, in Berlin itself no less. It seems that Turkish agents attempted to kidnap several close relatives of the Chancellor, specifically his sister Prinzessin Elsa, his daughter-in-law Lady Notburga, and even his granddaughter Prinzessin Traudl. Fortunately, loyal servants of the Empire succeeded in thwarting this vile plan, and none of these innocents were harmed. This all occurred late on the evening of August 9th.”

“We did no such thing, Minister. Surely there is some mistake?”

“I think not, Advisor Atak.” The Minister reached into his valise and pulled out a copy of the Berlin Zeitung. “My government released the details of the Turkish plot to the press. No doubt you can independently verify this from your remaining...sources in the Empire. I expect that you can also imagine the Chancellor's feelings when he learned of all this.”

“But...we need our Crown Prince back! Your two captured radar officers will suffer if Prince Rasoul is harmed in any way!”

“And what of the numerous Turkish agents captured in this raid, Advisor Atak? The laws and customs of war are not at all forgiving towards spies and traitors, particularly ones caught in such a despicable act. The Chancellor must also take account of public opinion within the Empire. There have already been calls in the Reichstag for the trial and execution of your Crown Prince, and this deplorable matter will only intensify them.”

The Foreign Advisor opened a desk drawer and produced a Turkish pistol, which he then laid on the desk. “You yourself, Minister, may find yourself on the receiving end of Turkish wrath at this rate.”

“Really, Advisor Atak? Do you want headlines in the German press: Elderly unarmed Foreign Minister murdered by Turks in the cause of peace?” The Minister's tone hardened as he continued, “We also have quite a few Turks as prisoners in various camps in the Empire. So far they have been treated correctly, as you know from your own personal experience. That, however, could change if the Chancellor and the German people are sufficiently provoked.” The Minister stood up, with the help of his ivory cane. “I have also been instructed, by the Chancellor himself no less, to tell you that the Crown Prince's fate shall be determined by Turkish treatment of the two German prisoners of war in question. Any Turkish attempt to have these men tortured will have grave consequences for the Crown Prince.”

“I am but a servant of the august Sultan, Minister von Offenbach,” said the Foreign Advisor after a very tense silence. “I shall speak with him, and tell him all that you have said. It may take some time for him to reach a decision. Perhaps...it would be best for you to return to Berlin and use your great powers of diplomacy to convince your Chancellor not to do anything rash.”

“Then so it shall be, Advisor Atak. The telegraph lines to Kerki shall remain open and undamaged for the time being, and no doubt you still have a few aviary pigeons at your disposal. I have no doubt that we shall meet again.”

 

[MTB4884]

August 12, 900 AD

Hut #1, Stalag 1
24 klicks SW of Leipzig, Germany
Dawn

“Attention! All prisoners will report for morning inspection!” There were a few groans, but no real protest, and within a minute or so the 20 prisoners of Hut #1 were standing outside, where Sgt. Krupp and his team quickly and efficiently counted them.

“Any special orders today, Sergeant?” asked former Ambassador Tarkaan.

“Yes, actually. You and Prince Rasoul are to come with me and report at once to the Commandant's office. And, before you ask, I have no idea why.”

“Lead on, then, Sergeant.” Presently the two Turkish prisoners and their escort arrived at the office. Two Imperial Guardsmen were guarding the door. “Inside.” said the leftmost Guardsman curtly. As if we had a choice! The two prisoners duly went inside. Neither reacted when they saw Military Minister Hans von Landscheid and Prinz Franz von Bismarck, grandson of the Chancellor of Germany, waiting for them, together with Commandant Waud.

“Good morning, Ambassador,” said Prinz Franz genially. “We have another situation here at Stalag 1 which may require a little diplomatic finesse. You may have heard that a major Emniyet operation, in Berlin itself, was recently foiled. The surviving spies and traitors are being brought here.”

“Why here, Prinz Franz?” asked the Ambassador.

“Convenience and practicality, Ambassador. Stalag 1 is a most secure facility. These evil men must not be allowed to roam freely within the Empire. And, if I may say so without offense, Ambassador, your presence here at Stalag 1 will make the situation easier. Normally these traitors would be held in separate prisons, the better to avoid collusion, conspiracies, or escape attempts. We have decided to put all the bad eggs in one basket, to coin a phrase.”

“And why does this situation require any particular diplomatic finesse, Prinz Franz?”

“A fair question, Ambassador. I must start by giving you a little background. Foreign Minister von Offenbach has spent quite some time on a most dangerous mission. He is negotiating with now Foreign Advisor Atak, who was once a prisoner in this very camp, for the release of two German prisoners. The Foreign Minister requested that those traitors who are of Turkish extraction write a next of kin letter reporting their arrival here at Stalag 1. We will also require each such prisoner to reveal his particular Emniyet code name.”

“But that is not fair, Prinz Helmut! They would be admitting their guilt by doing such a thing! What of those men who are wrongfully accused?”

“Ambassador, these vile traitors are guilty. We already know their Emniyet code names. How else do you think we knew enough to foil their evil plot?” The Prinz paused for a moment. “I do have a personal stake in the matter. It appears that their plan involved kidnapping my Aunt Elsa and my mother and younger sister in an attempt to force us to release Prince Rasoul. This evil Turkish plan has been made known to the German people.”

“And if we refuse to assist you?” put in Prince Rasoul.

“This is not a request, Prince Rasoul. The laws and customs of war do not give these spies and traitors the same protection that you and Ambassador Tarkaan enjoy. We merely ask for your cooperation so that more...direct methods are not required.”

“There may be an alternative, Prinz Franz,” suggested the Ambassador. “Perhaps the prisoners could write the letters, but leave out their code names. There is nothing to stop you supplementing the letters by adding that information. If, that is, you are not merely bluffing to get these men to admit their guilt!"

Prinz Franz glanced at the Military Minister, who discreetly nodded his head yes. “Very well, Ambassador. We will agree to your alternative plan. We shall expect the letters to be ready by evening. I believe that will be all for now.” Both important German guests stood up. “Thank you for your cooperation in this matter, Commandant Waud.”

“It is my pleasure, Prinz Franz. I will have the necessary pen and paper provided at once.” The Commandant saluted his official guests, who quickly took their leave. Neither man spoke until they were back inside the staff car which had brought them to Stalag 1. “Minister, why did you have me agree to the Ambassador's suggestion?”

“We need the letters quickly, Prinz Franz, and this is a much easier and faster method than by applying force.” The Minister smiled grimly. “This will also prevent any attempt by the prisoners to give false code names in an attempt to mislead us. The Turks will still be able to confirm that the letters are authentic without the code names.”

“Ah. Thank you for explaining that, Minister.” The Prinz was silent for a few moments. “Do you suppose your plan will work?”

“I could not say, Prinz Helmut. So far it has gone well. We shall simply have to wait and see.”

 

[MTB4884]

August 24, 900 AD

Sultan's Mansion
Khiva, Turkish Sultanate
Noon

Sultan Kassim Timur-Lenk took a final look in his mirror. There was a good deal more gray in his beard now than two years ago, mute testimony to the effect the reverses of fortune for the Sultanate had upon its leader. One more thing that evil Chancellor has to answer for! He reluctantly turned away, and headed downstairs. A Janissary guard saluted him and opened the door to the meeting room. The assembled aides looked uneasy at best as he called the meeting to order. “Let us hear the situation concerning the Emniyet.” He pointed to his new Military Advisor.

“O great Sultan, the Germans claim to have uncovered our network of agents within the Empire. Most appear to be in one of their prison camps, codenamed Stalag 1, which is somewhere in the vicinity of Leipzig. Advisor Atak reports that he has received numerous next of kin letters attesting to this.” General Aziz paused for a moment. “I regret, O patient Sultan, that Advisor Atak believes them to be authentic.”

“Then why did you have our agents undertake such a foolish and dangerous task?”

General Aziz became even more nervous. “O merciful Sultan, that is perhaps the strangest part of the story. We had given no such orders, in part because we did not know that the various female relatives of the Chancellor were not to be found in the Palace. It is possible that our agents learned of this shopping trip on their own, and, not having time to contact us, chose to act on their own initiative. After all, they would have secured most valuable prisoners had they succeeded, perhaps even enough to compel the Germans to release Crown Prince Rasoul.”

The Sultan considered the question for a few moments. “Then, General, what agents do we have left in the Empire?”

“O patient Sultan, the matter is more complex than that. At least five low-level agents remain unaccounted for. We do have reports that two were killed during the German raid. However, the very completeness of the German success makes contacting and relying on these agents difficult and dangerous. It is quite possible that the Germans have discovered them, and are merely hoping that we will try to do just that, in the hopes of revealing even more of our efforts.”

“Then, our agents in the Empire are cut off from us?”

“I fear so, O wise Sultan. There is a little good news. It does appear that our plan to have Advisor Atak conduct the negotiations in Kerki has had the effect we hoped for. The Germans have no idea that you are actually here in Khiva instead of Kerki. Our scouts have not reported any German units taking positions near us, while there are reports of Panther tanks approaching Kerki. Surely the situation would be reversed if the Germans knew the truth.”

“What of our imprisoned agents? What stops the Germans from obtaining the truth from them?”

“O great Sultan, the information as to your whereabouts is quite closely held for obvious reasons. Our agents in Germany were led to believe that you, along with the rest of the high government officials, were in Kerki. I should also point out, O prudent Sultan, that the Crown Prince has not revealed his own knowledge of the matter.”

“That reminds me of something, General Aziz. What shall we do with the two German radar officers? Should we have them executed?”

“O mighty Sultan, it is better that we do no such thing. The German Foreign Minister stated that the Crown Prince's fate would be the same as that of these prisoners. It is better that we keep them safe, as they may yet be useful to us in the future. Prisoners, as my late father once told me, are valuable assets, and should be treated as such.”

“Then, for Rasoul's sake, I will spare them for now. That will be all, gentlemen.” The assembled aides, relieved to have gotten through the meeting so easily, bowed to their leader in the usual fashion, and within a few moments the Sultan was alone with his thoughts. Curse you, Chancellor Bismarck! Someday, you will pay for what you have done!

 

[MTB4884]

September 1, 900 AD

Imperial Palace
Berlin, Germany
1:58 p.m.

Prinzessin Traudl von Bismarck was in a somber mood as she hurried downstairs to the music room. She dreaded her weekly piano lessons, particularly since her older brother Bruno was far more accomplished than she ever expected to be. The sounds of the organ, though muted by the newly installed sound insulation, could still be heard as she approached the door.

Inside her brother was at the organ keyboard, playing a bombastic piece she did not know. Kapelmeister Schneider and her tutor were standing just to his right, listening closely as the music built to a crescendo. Prinz Bruno played the final chords, and turned around nervously to hear the verdict. “What do you think, Kapelmeister...oh, hello, Traudl.”

“You are doing well, Prinz Bruno,” replied the Kapelmeister. “You still need a little more practice on the pedals, but that will come with time. I would have thought you had far more than a year's training at the organ if I had not known better from my own experience. Any church in the Empire would be glad to have you as the organist.”

“I agree,” said Meister Grodan. “You will be ready for the concert in two weeks time.” He turned to the Prinzessin. “I fear I may be the bearer of bad news, Prinzessin Traudl. Has your father told you about the change in your studies?”

“Er..no, Meister Grodan.”

“He believes that you have more aptitude for history and language than for music, and, while you do show promise, I fear that he has a point. It seems that you will be getting additional tutoring in history from a...Meister Vonn, I believe he said, and will be forced to discontinue your piano lessons.”

“Why, that's wonder...I mean, how terrible, Meister Grodan.”

“Yes, indeed,” replied Meister Grodan, without a trace of irony. “Still, at least I will be able to continue to work with Prinz Bruno.”

“Of course, Meister Grodan. I'll see you later, Bruno!” The Prinzessin practically skipped out of the music room, to the amusement of her brother and the frowning disapproval of both music Meisters. “It seems, Kapelmeister, that Prinz Helmut was correct in his assessment.”

Meanwhile the Prinzessin, having an unexpected free hour, decided to go to the Rose Garden. This is so much nicer than having to sit before a piano! The flowers in the exterior gardens were still lovely, though they had by now passed their peak midsummer glory. She had nearly reached the main greenhouse when her Aunt Elsa's voice, coming from behind a tall hedge, caught her attention. “You were really a spy?”

“Indeed,” replied an unfamiliar male voice. “In fact, I was the chief German agent in the Songhai Kingdom before the war.”

The Prinzessin stopped in her tracks and listened with all her ears. My God, another Turkish plot, right here in the Imperial Palace! “Then why were they so ungrateful when our battlecruiser destroyed the pirate armada which had menaced their shipping for decades?”

“The short answer, Elsa, is hubris and pride. Then King Sunni Ali III was embarrassed that his own navy could not defeat these evil men. No doubt the Turks, knowing a good opportunity when they saw one, inflamed the situation for their own ends.”

“But Gerhardt was killed, and they didn't even care! He died for nothing, as far as they were concerned!” The Prinzessin had never heard such passion in her aunt's voice before.

“Not so, Elsa,” replied the unknown man firmly. “His sacrifice saved another promising linguist, Oskar Schindler, who had a wife and young daughter. Herr Schindler now works in Project Enigma. It was he who made the crucial breakthrough to decipher the Emniyet's codebooks which were recovered at Bukhara. We would never have caught the Turkish spy ring without him.”

“Really, Anton?”

“Really, Elsa. That is why I was there at Krogir und Knopf. I had to make certain that you and Miss Lisle would come to no harm...wait...” There was silence on the other side of the hedge, and Prinzessin Traudl leaned forward a little to hear what was going on. Suddenly the hedge parted and a stern-looking middle aged man stared down at her. “What are you doing there?”

“Er...nothing, sir, Aunt Elsa,” stammered the Prinzessin in reply. “I was just going to the conservatory, and I happened to overhear something about spies.” Her Imperial Guardsman bodyguard, who had been waiting a good twenty meters behind, now rushed up. “It is all right, Dieter,” said Prinzessin Elsa reassuringly. “We did not know Traudl was there.”

“Yes, Prinzessin Elsa,” replied the Guardsman respectfully, backing off a pace.

“Traudl, what are you doing in the Rose Gardens at all? I thought this was the time for your piano lessons with Meister Grodan?”

“It was, Aunt Elsa. Father said that I was to receive tutoring in history from a Meister Vonn instead. I suppose I'll meet him today at the usual lesson time at 3:00.”

“Not quite,” replied the unknown man. “You see, Prinzessin Traudl, I am Meister Vonn.”

 

[MTB4884]

September 15, 900 AD

Imperial Theatre
Berlin, Germany
9:40 p.m.

The Imperial Theater audience applauded as the last chords of Prinzessin Elsa's harp solo died away and Meister Frolich took center stage. “Ladies and gentlemen, the last piece on our program this evening will be Meister Bach's masterpiece Toccata und Fugue in D minor, with Prinz Bruno von Bismarck.” The curtains opened to a view of a single large pipe organ. Prinz Bruno gave a quick bow to the audience, and then sat on the organ bench.

A knock sounded at the theatre box door as the Prinz began to play. “I got up here as quickly as I could,” whispered Prinzessin Elsa as she took her seat.

“I'm glad it was you, Elsa,” replied Chancellor Bismarck. “I thought for a moment that the Military Minister was here with some urgent news of the war. He seems to have a talent for interrupting my attempts at getting a little culture.”

“It is not von Landscheid's fault if the events of the war do not correspond to your convenience, Father,” said Prinz Helmut with a smile. “You have taught me that a Chancellor must expect such things, as is his duty.”

“I suppose so.” Suddenly every stage light flickered once, and then went out completely. Both Prinzessin Elsa and Prinzessin Traudl gasped as the Imperial Theatre was plunged into darkness. Surprisingly, the organ kept going as if nothing had happened. “Father. how can Bruno continue to play if he can't see either the sheet music or the keyboard?”

“I have no idea, Traudl.” The box door opened again. “Do not be concerned, my Chancellor. There is a small electrical problem, which should be fixed within a few minutes.”

“Anton?” asked Prinzessin Elsa. “How...”

“A small precaution, Elsa. After all, you have not played here at the Imperial Theatre for quite some time. We are still at war with the evil Turks, and there are still those who would wish harm upon you and your family.”

So it is 'Elsa' now. Interesting. “It is good that we have such men in the service of the Empire, Herr Ziegler, or actually Meister Vonn,” said Prinz Helmut aloud. “I for one appreciate your dedication to duty, even if you are officially retired from the intelligence service.”

“Me too!” chimed in Prinzessin Traudl. “Meister Vonn has already told me many wonderful stories of what it was like as a spy in the Songhai Kingdom before the war.”

“Really? I should like to hear a few of these stories myself,” replied Prinz Helmut.

“Perhaps, everyone, we could actually listen to Bruno finish his organ solo,” said the Chancellor firmly. “After all, that is one of the main reasons we are here at all.” The lights flickered again, and then shone steadily, revealing Prinz Bruno at the keyboard. His playing seemed unaffected by the return of the lights as he entered the final part of the fugue and finished with a flourish. The Prinz did not seem surprised until he turned to the audience, who greeted him with a standing ovation.

It took several minutes, and one encore, before Prinz Bruno was able to rejoin the rest of his family. “It was wonderful, Bruno,” said Prinzessin Traudl. “How ever did you manage when the lights went out?”

“It wasn't easy, Traudl. Actually, Meister Vonn suggested that it might be wise to practice at least once with the lights off, just in case something like this happened. I'm very glad he did!”

“You did very well, Bruno,” said Prinzessin Elsa. “It is most difficult to keep playing under such conditions.”

“And no one tried anything untoward,” pointed out Prinz Helmut. “The electrical problem with the lights was a mere accident, which could have happened at any time.”

“True,” said the Chancellor. “Now I think it is high time we returned to the Palace.” Suddenly there was a knock at the door. “Your pardon, my Chancellor. Minister von Landscheid is here to see you.”

“At least he waited until the concert was over. Send him in.” The Military Minister duly entered and bowed to his leader. “My Chancellor, I regret having to disturb you at this hour. There is a report from North America that another large group of barbarians has been sighted in the wilderness northwest of our outpost at Big River. It has been suggested that we airlift a Panther division to Tikal, to reinforce our forces and to protect the expanding rail line.”

“I thought we needed all available Panthers for the war, Hans,” replied the Chancellor.

“We do, my Chancellor. My own thought is to send over a cavalry division instead. They might well be able to reach the battle zone more quickly.”

Prinz Helmut broke in at this. “Minister, it is our commanders on the ground in North America who have requested a Panther division, correct?”

“Just so, Prinz Helmut.”

“Well, since they are on the scene, why not give them the Panthers they need? We are, after all, winning the war against the Turks. My sister and my son were both able to perform their respective instruments in public tonight, thanks to your brilliant work in defeating the Turkish spy ring.”

“I believe Helmut is right,” decided the Chancellor. “Make the preparations for the airlift at once. I suspect it will take some time in any event.”

“As you command, my Chancellor.” Nothing in the Military Minister's face or voice showed his displeasure at being overruled. “You are also correct in that it will take several months to send that many tanks by air. The Panthers must be disassembled for transport, reassembled in Tikal, and only then shipped up the rail line to where they are needed.”

“Then you will proceed at once, Hans. Dismissed.”

 

[MTB4884]

December 1, 900 AD

Imperial Palace Ballroom
Berlin, Germany
1:30 p.m.

So far, so good mused the Chancellor as he looked over the Imperial Ballroom. The actual marriage ceremony between his grandson Prinz Franz and Miss Lisle Oberlin had gone quite well, even though Groscheiner Zuhlsdorf had replaced the ailing Grosbruckner Hans as the celebrant. Kapelmeister Schneider looked to his leader for a moment before leading the small orchestra in the traditional wedding march. The Chancellor, intent on the actual dance, did not notice his son approach until he was addressed. “Is something wrong, Father?”

“No, Helmut,” replied the Chancellor. “Indeed, I was thinking that things are going well. At least I do not have to deal with the usual foreign dignitaries and Ambassadors seeking favors and concessions now.”

“True, Father,” said the Prinz with a smile. “I remember that it seemed an age before you arrived for my own dance with Notburga, once upon a time.”

“You were lucky that the delay was only an hour or so in your case, Helmut. My own father...” The Chancellor noticed the chamberlain headed his way. Now what? “What is it, Rudi?”

“Er...my Chancellor, the Domestic and Military Minister would like a brief word.”

“All right, Rudi. Tell Axel and Hans that Helmut and I will meet them in my study.” The chamberlain bowed to his leader and hastened away on his errand.

“At least they waited until now, Father,” said Prinz Helmut dryly as he and his father walked to the recently installed elevator. The elevator attendant looked startled to see his leader. “Um...what floor did you wish, my Chancellor?”

“Third floor, please.” The elevator began its smooth ascent. “The timing of this meeting may not have been accidental, Helmut. Everyone will be watching Franz and Lisle, and hopefully will not notice that we are missing for a few minutes.”

“A good point, Father,” replied Prinz Helmut as the elevator stopped and the outer doors opened. The study was but a single door away from the elevator. “We are sorry to interrupt, my Chancellor,” said the Domestic Minister, bowing to his Chancellor as he and Prinz Helmut entered. “There has been a serious accident near Vienna. A freight train carrying toxic chemicals derailed and caught fire. A considerable amount of nearby farmland has been affected, and will require extensive decontamination efforts. Fortunately no one was killed in the crash, though the train engineer and conductor are both in hospital with serious injuries.”

“Very well, Axel. I trust you will send the necessary workers to clean up this mess and restore the rail line to proper operations?”

“Yes, my Chancellor. The difficulty is that we may not be able to extend the rail lines into the Siberian wilderness as quickly as Hans and I would prefer. We are of course working diligently on the matter.”

“All right, Axel. Give priority to the cleanup effort. We must maintain our heartland territories in proper condition if we are to proceed with the offensive against the Turks.” The Chancellor turned to his other guest. “Is that why you are here as well, Hans?”

“Partly, my Chancellor,” replied the Military Minister. “I agree with you that we must clean up the pollution Axel described first. Vienna depends upon the food these farms produce, and we will have serious problems without it.”

“Very well. Do you have something else to report concerning the war?”

“Yes, my Chancellor, but not concerning the Turks. Our Panther division in North America fought a major battle with numerous barbarian divisions yesterday. It seems these barbarians chose to attack a prepared tank divisions on foot with primitive swords and spears. Suffice it to say that it did not go well for the barbarians. General Traeger reports that an estimated ten to twelve barbarian divisions, including several chieftain divisions, were destroyed in the fighting, with minor losses on our part. He further advises that a second Panther division may not be needed now.”

“I thought the airlift had already begun, Minister,” put in Prinz Helmut. “Are you suggesting that we send the Panther tanks back home across the Atlantic?”

“That, Prinz Helmut, is precisely the issue. It is not efficient to waste time and fuel by airlifting tanks in such a way. There are reports of barbarians in sizable numbers well west of the former Iroquois lands and in the mountain regions near the Pacific Ocean coast.” A large map of North America was belatedly spread out on the desk. “I recommend that we keep the airlifted Panther division in North America. They may yet be useful there.”

“A reasonable plan, Hans. Approved.” The Chancellor paused for a moment. “It appears that I was wrong when I ordered the airlift to proceed a few months ago. I should have listened to you at that time and followed your recommendation to keep the Panthers here in the continental Empire.”

“It is good of you to say so, my Chancellor. I should point out, however, that it was General Traeger's very successes against the savage barbarians which has changed our military requirements in North America.”

“A good point, Hans. Remind me of this incident the next time a vacancy develops in the leadership of one of our army Corps. Now, is there anything else?” Both Ministers shook their heads no. “Excellent. Let us return to the reception, then.”

“As you command, my Chancellor.”

 

[MTB4884]

January 2, 910 AD

War Council Meeting Room, Imperial Palace
Berlin, Germany
10:00 a.m.

Chancellor Otto von Bismarck called the meeting to order. “Normally, I would begin by asking the Military Minister to give his report on the progress of the war. Instead, I believe that the Science Minister has an important announcement. Niels?”

The Science Minister duly took the podium. “My Chancellor and fellow Ministers, I am pleased to tell you all that our attempt at linking the computers in the Empire has been a complete success. The new 'Internet' will significantly improve scientific research, even in the most distant and remote corners of Europe, Asia, and Africa. We estimate that the overall improvement across the Empire is some 50%.”

“That's amazing, Niels! There is one thing I do not understand, however. How does this 'Intenet' improve scientific research over such a vast area?”

The Science Minister paused, realizing that once again his perfectly simple explanation was not understood by his hearers. “I shall give you an example, my Chancellor. Suppose a doctor in Kor, in central Africa, wished to consult a treatise on snake venom antidotes. A year ago he would have had to travel to Berlin or Hamburg to find a research facility who had the physical book, or hope that someone nearby happened to have a copy. Now, he can use his computer in his office in Kor, contact the computers of the Erlich Institute here in Berlin and read the relevant parts of the treatise on his own computer thousands of klicks away.”

“I can see, Niels, that you and your staff at the Science Ministry are to be commended once again. What is it that the Ministry recommends we do now?”

“My Chancellor, we are still hard at work on learning more about genetics. We are certain that the answer to the problem of how to cure cancer lies in this field. We expect to complete our work within three or four years, with the aid of the new 'Internet'. It will take a great, coordinated effort in medical research to finally defeat the scourge of cancer. The Science Ministry recommends, with the approval of both the Domestic and Military Ministries, that we continue to stockpile resources in Constantinople in order to proceed with this effort once we have learned the necessary knowledge.”

“Approved, Niels, unless there is some objection?” No one objected, and so the Chancellor continued, “Very well, then. It is now time to review your other proposal, which I believe might be more controversial.”

“You are correct, my Chancellor. We still need to complete our astronomical research as well. We believe the best way to do this is the Search for Extraterrestrial Intelligence program, or SETI. The Domestic Ministry agrees with us that building this program right here in Berlin is the most effective use of the Empire's resources. However, it will take five or six years to complete the SETI program, and so we will not be able to build any Panther tanks in Berlin during that time.”

“So, Hans, what is your opinion on the matter?”

“My Chancellor, I am not at all enthusiastic about losing five or six Panther tank divisions for obvious reasons. We would have been able to take Kerki in battle already if more Panthers had been available to commit to the war effort. However, it is the consensus of our war planners that the Turkish War is proceeding quite well overall. It is entirely possible that we will succeed in defeating the Turks by the time this SETI project is completed.”

“I see. All in favor of building the SETI project in Berlin?” Everyone raised his hand, though the Military Minister did so with obvious reluctance. “Very well, then, Niels. You may proceed as you have said. Now we should hear from Hans about the progress of the Turkish War.”

“Yes, my Chancellor. Lights!” The room was instantly plunged into darkness, save for a projection screen on one wall. “Our first target will be the Sultan's redoubt in Kerki. 7th Corps is on scene and will be ready to lead the attack on the city within the week. Our latest intelligence suggests that the Turks have perhaps two or three guerrilla divisions there, instead of the nine or ten divisions which defended Bukhara a year ago. Next slide, please?”

A new image was presented on the screen of the eastern battle area near Edirne. “There are still numerous Sipahi and various Turkish foot soldiers in these remote wilderness areas. We will first attack with bombers, based primarily in Xanadu and Karachi. Fortunately, these troops have no weapons which can reliably hit our aircraft, and so I expect the bomber attacks to do great damage to the enemy. We will then send in Panther tanks to finish them off. Lights, please?”

Everyone blinked for a few moments as they adjusted to the sudden illumination. “That sounds like a good plan, Hans. Are there any objections?” Again no one objected. “Sometimes I worry when our plans are too popular with the Council. Very well, then, Hans. Proceed as you have said. Now I think we should hear from the Domestic Minister. Axel?”

Axel von Folich now took over the podium. “My Chancellor, there are reports of significant unrest in many of the recently occupied Turkish cities, just as one might expect under the circumstances. Fortunately, our defeat of the Turkish spy ring has improved public support for the war. I must warn you and the War Council that it will undoubtedly drop as the war continues.”

“So you have said before, Axel, and, for that matter, so have your predecessors in previous wars of the Empire. Still, I see no reason to seek peace with the Turks now. We shall continue until Sultan Kassim is dead, or better still, in prison facing German justice. Is there anything else before we adjourn?” Again, no one said anything. “Very well, then. Meeting adjourned.” Everyone stood as usual as the Chancellor and his son Prinz Helmut left the War Council meeting room.

 

[MTB4884]

January 16, 910 AD

City Hall
Kerki, Turkish Sultanate
4:00 p.m.

“Are you certain about this, Minister?” asked Marshall von Kotke, overall commander of German forces in the Kerki sector. His men had succeeded in storming the walls of Kerki earlier that day, and now Panther tanks and German cavalry surrounded the City Hall.

“Yes, Marshall,” replied the elderly Foreign Minister. “I did not fly all the way from Berlin to Xanadu and make the long journey here for my health. Besides, I will probably be dealing with their Foreign Advisor Atak, whom I have met before.”

“All right.” A German field radio was handed over. “We will wait one hour. It will be dark soon, and we cannot allow the Sultan to escape us again. Please be careful. I do not trust the Turks or their despicable Sultan as far as I could throw a Panther tank.”

“I understand, Marshall. If I do not return, or you do not hear from me by 5:00, you may proceed as you see fit. No one will blame you if my mission of peace fails.”

“Very well. Good luck, sir!” With that the Marshall himself opened the door to the mechanized infantry carrier, and the Foreign Minister hobbled out, with the aid of his ivory cane. An aide carried the actual truce flag, and slowly the two Germans made their way to the barricaded front door of the City Hall.

“Get lost, you German #@! The Sultan does not wish to talk to you!” came a voice in Turkish as they came near.

“Would it harm you so to allow an elderly unarmed German entrance?” replied the Minister in the same language. “I wish to speak with Foreign Advisor Atak. He will recognize me.” There was a brief pause, and then the Minister heard the noises of the barricades reinforcing the door being slid aside. “Just you. Your aide can stay where he is.” came an unseen voice.

As I expected. “Wait here, Hans, for my return.” The Minister slowly entered the City Hall, politely ignoring the hostile looks of the armed defenders. He had counted twenty-four before he reached the main stairs. To his surprise, Foreign Advisor Atak was standing at the bottom, pointing to an empty room with an open door a few meters away. “Perhaps, Minister von Offenbach,” he said in German, “we could discuss the situation here, given your frail condition.”

“That is most gracious of you, Advisor,” replied the Minister in German. “I am not as agile now as I once was.” The two men duly entered the office, and the door was slammed shut from the outside.

“You know, of course, why I am here,” began the Minister.

“We are well defended here, and any German attempt to take the City Hall by force will cost many German lives!”

“That depends, Advisor, upon how the good Marshall von Kotke chooses to proceed. I am a man of peace, but I have no doubt that a few tank rounds would breach your defenses easily enough. Such methods could easily cost the lives of everyone in this building. Instead, we are prepared to offer the usual terms of surrender. We prefer to take Sultan Kassim alive. I fear, however, that taking him dead would be an acceptable alternative for us.”

“And you think we will simply meekly comply?”

“Advisor Atak, you of all people know what your choices in the matter truly are. You and the Sultan cannot escape this place. I can give you a chance to save his life as well as your own.” He paused for a moment. “Where, exactly, is the Sultan?”

“That, Minister, I cannot tell you.” There was an odd smile of triumph on the Advisor's face as he spoke. “You see, the august Sultan is not in this building. He is not even in Kerki, as a matter of fact. We are quite good at evading German intelligence efforts, as you have seen for yourself.”

The Minister paused for a few moments. Could the Advisor be telling the truth? “Surely the good Marshall von Kotke will be most reluctant to believe you, Advisor. Besides, there is the matter of the remaining Turkish resistance here in the City Hall. My offer of the usual terms of surrender still stands. No doubt you are empowered to handle the situation in the Sultan's absence.”

“Precisely, Minister. We will accept your terms, then, upon one condition. You will not question anyone in this building as to the august Sultan's location.”

The Minister hesitated for only a moment, and then extended his right hand, which the Advisor took. “Agreed, Advisor Atak. This is a bargain compared to the loss of life on both sides from a direct assault. I fear, however, that you will probably be sent back to Stalag 1 shortly.”

“I suppose you are correct, Minister. It is a great pity that you and I are on opposite sides of the war.”

“It is indeed, Advisor Atak.”

 

[MTB4884]

January 16, 910 AD

Imperial Palace
Berlin, Germany
3:58 p.m.

Prinzessin Traudl walked down the halls of the Imperial Palace in a happy mood. Meister Vonn was scheduled in a few minutes to tutor her in history once again, and hopefully he would tell her more stories from his own extensive experience just before and during the Songhai War. This is so much better than those horrid piano lessons!

She noticed her father's distinctive voice as she came around the last corner. “I wanted to have a brief word with you, Meister Vonn. I have noticed how Prinzessin Elsa has...acted lately.”

“I had expected something like this, Prinz Helmut,” replied her history tutor. “I can assure you that my intentions are strictly honorable.” Prinzessin Traudl stopped to listen with all her ears, but heard nothing for a few seconds but some rustling noises. Finally her tutor spoke up. “It may not be quite the fine jewelry Elsa is used to, but it is pretty good for an honest man's salary. Meister Biers was most helpful when I spoke with him on Monday.”

“Then...you have not yet told Elsa?”

“No, Prinz Helmut.” There was a brief pause in the conversation. “I have not yet had the right opportunity.” The wall clock began to chime the hour. “Where is Prinzessin Traudl? It is not like her to be late.”

“Here I am, Father, Meister Vonn,” said the Prinzessin, walking into the room. “I...er...heard part of your conversation.”

“That is a useful skill for a spy, though not necessarily for a Prinzessin,” replied Meister Vonn, as the Prinz scowled at his young daughter. “Perhaps it would be better if I had a brief word alone with your father.”

“No need, Meister Vonn,” said Prinz Helmut. “I merely wished to know what the situation was. It is a matter for my sister to decide.” Suddenly the intercom rang. “Yes?” answered the Prinz.

“My Prinz, you are requested to join the Chancellor in the Radio Room for the report of the assault on Kerki.” said the disembodied voice of Gunter on the other end.

“Understood, Gunter. I'll be right there.”

“May I come too, Father?” asked the Prinzessin. “I do hope we caught the Sultan!”

The Prinz looked to Meister Vonn, and received a slight nod in return. “All right, Traudl. You must simply stand quietly and say nothing, however.”

“I'm very good at that, Father!” exclaimed the Prinzessin.

“So I have seen.” The Prinz turned to Meister Vonn with a slight smile. “This meeting may take a little time. I think I saw Elsa headed towards the Music Room on my way down here.”

Presently the Prinz and his daughter arrived in the Radio Room. The Chancellor and the Military Minister were already there. “Imperial Palace, this is Foreign Minister von Offenbach. Are you receiving me?”

“We are, Minister,” replied Prinz Helmut after taking the offered microphone. “What is the situation at Kerki?”

“Von Kotke's forces stormed the walls earlier this morning. I myself was successful in negotiating the surrender of the City Hall. We have Foreign Advisor Atak in custody. However...”

“Yes?” asked the Prinz eagerly.

“I regret to report that the Sultan has once more eluded us. It may well be that he was never in Kerki at all.”

“How unfortunate, Minister. Perhaps it would be well to have a word with Prince Rasoul on the subject of the Sultan's true location. I think he could save us a good deal of time.”

“I cannot advise that, Prinz Helmut. I succeeded in convincing the Foreign Advisor to surrender in large part because we have laws and customs of war which we have not violated. Breaking these codes now will have most serious consequences for ourselves and for our ability to reason with the Turks in similar situations.”

The Prinz looked to his father, who held out his hand for the microphone, and was promptly given it. “Ludwig, this is Chancellor Bismarck. We should discuss this in Council, though I think you are correct. How long will it take you to get back to Berlin?”

“At least three or four days, my Chancellor.”

“Very well. Come back to Berlin at once. We will discuss these matters at next Monday's Council meeting. I commend you and Marshall von Kotke for your efforts today. Send the full report as soon as possible.”

“It shall be done, my Chancellor.”

“Very well, then. Imperial Palace, out.”