'gas' or 'fuel.' He had not yet discovered the reason for the admiral's quirk of terminology. Was it just personal idiosyncrasy? A trace, perhaps, of the Anglophilism that Ulrik thought to detect in upper crust Americans?
Strange, really. In his day and age, England was considered an uncouth backwater. What up-timers would have called 'the sticks.'
Ulrik could have simply asked the admiral, of course. But where was the fun in that?
'If he makes it there in the first place,' said Baldur skeptically. 'By all accounts I've heard, the pilot is a novice.'
' 'By all accounts' would refer to me,' said Simpson, 'since I believe I'm the only one you've talked to on the subject. I did not say he was a 'novice.' What I said was that while Egidius Junker has not been flying for very long, he is apparently good enough that Francisco Nasi-whom no one has ever accused of lacking anything in the brains department-was willing to make him his own personal pilot.'
The admiral's tone was mild, not reproving. He sounded slightly amused, in fact.
Why? Ulrik decided to chew on that puzzle for a moment. He really did not take well to weeks of idleness. At one point, he'd made a game out of tracing the tile patterns in the floor of the communal toilet in the barracks. Alas, the game had been brief-the pattern was fully evident within two minutes.
'I don't see why they can't switch pilots in Magdeburg,' Baldur grumbled. 'Surely there has to be some… some…'
'Up-timer available?' Simpson seemed to be fighting down a smile.
Of course! Norddahl was made nervous by the thought of a down-time pilot-and the American was amused by the fact.
Unfortunately, now that he thought about it, Ulrik himself wasn't entirely pleased at the thought of being flown through the air by a down-timer. But he let none of his anxiety show, lest the admiral transfer that sly little not-smile onto him. Royalty had obligations as well as privileges.
Simpson shook his head. 'Even if there were, you wouldn't want him. Junker's flying a Dauntless, and Nasi has the only civilian one in service. The military won't give you a pilot for the same political reasons we've talked about at length. So your choice is between a pilot who has experience with that particular plane and one who'd be coming to it cold-and would probably be another down-timer anyway.'
His smile widened and became genial rather than sly. 'Besides, if Germans can't fly airplanes, that would certainly come as news back where we came from. Have you ever heard of Manfred von Richtofen?'
Seeing three heads shaking, the admiral clapped his hands and rubbed them together. 'Well, then! Gather 'round while I tell you the tale of the Red Baron.' Magdeburg air field There was a small crowd waiting for Eddie when he arrived in Magdeburg. Not surprisingly, once Eddie finally discovered the nature of his mission.
No wonder they'd been willing to demolish part of Dresden!
As he listened to what mostly amounted to reassuring babble, once Rebecca Abrabanel explained the heart of the matter, Eddie pondered the political ramifications. Francesco Nasi hadn't hired Junker simply for his piloting skills. His experience working with Noelle Stull as an investigator for the SoTF's Department of Economic Resources had given him a wider and more subtle grasp of the USE's politics than most people possessed.
So it didn't take him more than a few seconds to grasp what lay at the core of this bold maneuver on the part of Kristina and Ulrik. In essence, a deal was being made. Unspoken, perhaps, but a deal nonetheless. The two royals would throw their prestige and status-which was what they possessed, given Kristina's age, rather than any recognized 'legitimacy'-on the side of Fourth of July Party and the Committees of Correspondence. In return, the FoJP and the CoCs would agree to maintain the USE as a constitutional monarchy rather than pressing for a full republic in the course of an open and full-scale civil war.
As with all bargains, everyone got something and everyone lost something at the same time. The dynasty would insure its position-but, inevitably, the actual power it wielded would diminish somewhat. Direct power, at least. The dynasty could still retain a tremendous amount of influence, depending on the personal characteristics of the specific monarch involved.
Or monarchs, in this case. Eddie wasn't sure yet, because he'd never met Prince Ulrik at all and he'd only seen Princess Kristina at a distance. But the very logic of what he was hearing led him to the tentative belief that the USE could wind up with what amounted to a dual monarchy, under the surface of a reigning queen and her prince consort. Something like the reign of Archduchess Isabella and Archduke Albert in the Netherlands, before Albert died in 1621.
After all, how likely was it that a queen who'd been relying on the advice and counsel of her husband since she was eight years old-the same man who'd protected her from assassins while being wounded himself in the deed-would treat him as a mere consort?
From the viewpoint of the FoJP and the CoCs, the bargain also had its advantages and disadvantages. On the positive side, gaining the allegiance of the dynasty would strengthen their position in the current civil war. Probably a great deal, given that it was really a semi-civil war in which a lot of people were still standing on the sidelines. Many of those people would be swayed by the actions of Kristina and Ulrik. And their actions would further undermine Oxenstierna's prestige, which had already been badly shaken by his arrest of Wettin and was being continually undermined every day that Dresden withstood the Swedish siege.
On the negative side, most members of the FoJP and just about every member of the CoCs was a committed republican. They had never been very happy with the existence of the dynasty. Not in theory, certainly. Gustav II Adolf's own character had defused that antagonism while he'd been active and in command of his wits. He was a dynamic and charismatic figure, after all, the man often called 'the Lion of the North' and 'the Golden King.' Perhaps more importantly, the Swedish king had always been shrewd in his dealings with Mike Stearns. The fact was, for all the many times they had clashed, the two men had always managed to reach agreement when necessary. It was clear to just about anyone in the Germanies that they respected each other and quite possibly even liked each other.
Still, the nation's more radically-inclined citizens chafed at the idea of being under a monarchy, and the recent developments since Gustav Adolf's injury at Lake Bledno simply drove home many of the reasons for their unhappiness with the situation. Monarchies are fine and dandy if you have a good king, but what if you have a bad one? Or, what was often even worse, faced a succession crisis?
No, best to be rid of the whole antiquated nonsense.
They wouldn't be able to do that now, though. Not once Kristina and Ulrik landed at this very same airport tomorrow morning. There'd be a huge crowd to greet them, Eddie was quite sure. Then, a huge crowd lining the road leading into Magdeburg, and another huge crowd to greet them when they arrived in Hans Richter Square. Some firm hand was guiding this odd government-in-exile, obviously, and would see to it.
(Very odd exile, given that they were located in the actual capital of the nation. But it was an odd civil war, when you got right down to it.)
Eddie wondered who that firm hand was. His own guess was Rebecca Abrabanel. But if he was right, no one except a handful would ever really know. It would be in the nature of the woman to maintain a collegial appearance at all times. Despite her striking physical appearance, she was in many ways the opposite of her husband.
Mike Stearns, like his monarch, was one of those people who strode about the stage of history. Very dramatic, very visible to all. The Prince of Germany to match the Golden King.
Rebecca Abrabanel? She would have no nicknames, carry no monicker. Or if she did, it would be something referring to her beauty rather than her brains and political skill. Yet in her own way, Eddie was coming to think, she was as important a player as almost any on that stage. More important than most, for a certainty.
The refueling was done. The plane was ready to fly again. Eddie clambered back into the cockpit.
As he settled into his seat, he caught sight of Gunther Achterhof. The leader of the capital city's Committee of Correspondence was one of a handful of people still standing near the plane.
He had what almost looked like a scowl on his face. Moved by a sudden impulse, Eddie leaned out of the still-open window.
'Cheer up, Gunther! Look at this way. If I crash and burn, you get a republic after all.'
He followed that with a thumbs up and went back to checking his gauges.
Time to go. The weather was still superb.
He gave Achterhof a last glance. The man now had a peculiar sort of vulpine smile on his face. And he returned Eddie's gesture with a thumbs-up of his own.
