McHenry held back any defense of his president. He knew she was right. 1936 was an election year. Roosevelt needed to hold the white vote.
“You've got an answer for everything, don't you?”
“Not everything,” she replied. “We as individuals are not perfect. The Reich had suffered through many struggles, and not just the one we are witnessing here today. We made mistakes along the way. But most of those mistakes were simply the best option that was available at that time.”
He wondered what she could be leading up to. It sounded like the preface to an apology. “I don't take your meaning,” he said.
She kept her eyes focused on his. “I don't discount that Adolf Hitler was a champion for the Aryan people. As you know quite well, that was the character of the times. Most people were like that back then. Homo sapiens, just a few steps up from the apes. Nonetheless, you should know that when Du Bois visited Germany in 1936 he didn't need to go looking for a special hotel that accepted black men.”
McHenry didn't really know for sure whether that was true. It all sounded like more propaganda.
“Sam,” she continued, “you need to look beyond all that and see Adolf Hitler for the state that he created. They took the politics out of the system. An entire nation doesn't have to stop every four years just to bicker about which set of oligarchs run the system. Everywhere you look in America, you see clever advertisements with politicians slandering opponents with half-truths and outright lies. They spend an enormous amount of money on this. It's a terrible waste of resources. And most of your politicians don't care about the people nearly as much as they care about getting elected again the next time. I know that democracy sounds like a wonderful concept but none of its promises are true. Now in the Reich, we all have a nation where leaders are not chosen by who has the best advertisements. Our leaders aren't bought. They can devote all their energies to the people of the Reich.”
“I still believe that democracy is too important a thing not to fight for it.”
“Whose democracy were you fighting for? Let me quote an American from your day.” She shifted in her seat slightly. Her voice took a colder pitch. “‘Once again, may I inform you that Great Britain is not a democracy in any sense of the word. It is an empire of 486 million persons who are ruled, regulated, and in some instances exploited by the members of the British Parliament elected to office by no more than 45 million residents of England and Scotland.’”
McHenry understood that Dale was reciting a passage from memory, but he didn't recognize the source.
She continued, “‘Nor is France a democracy. It, too, is an empire boasting of more than 100 million population resident outside Europe. A population that was subjugated by cannon, bayonet, and intrigue.
“‘Nor is Russia a democracy. Its one hundred ten million persons are dominated by a party of communists numbering less than two million. If the conscience of Americans is offended because the principles of real democracy, of self-determination, of home-rule, are being crushed to earth by the iron heel of German stormtroopers, let our indignation be impartial, and therefore virtuous. Let us lament over the plight of British, French, and Russian victims of conquest, who since the battle of Plassey in 1757, to the massacre of Moscow in 1923, have been appealing for liberty and justice and sympathy to the deafened ears of civilization.
“‘If the imperial conquest by Great Britain and France, and the diabolical persecution by Soviet Russia, are the outstanding examples of European democracy, then it is my opinion that the sooner that type of hypocrisy perishes from the face of the Earth, the better for all mankind.’”
McHenry resisted the urge to clap sarcastically when her performance concluded. “Who was that?”
“Father Charles Coughlin. Do you know of him? He was once a very popular media figure in America.”
“Yes, I know of him, but I was not a fan of the man.” McHenry didn't know whether he might disagree with the entire speech, but he had no intention of being re-educated to Nazi ideals. He reminded himself again that he was in enemy territory. Any potential moral correctness would have to wait until he was truly free. He always thought of Coughlin as a Nazi apologist anyway, and an anti-Semite.
“Do you have everything memorized?” he asked. It was a flanking maneuver.
“My memory is better than yours.”
He wondered if Nazi science was involved, but she left it at that, returning to the subject of Coughlin.
“One thing about Father Coughlin is that he was censored,” she said. “His radio show was shut down, and then the postal system stopped sending his magazine through the mail. This, under a government that claims to support freedom of speech.”
“We were in difficult times,” he answered. “Censorship is an unfortunate measure. The country had similar responses to the first world war. Those wartime restrictions were lifted after the emergency had passed. I have no doubt that the same thing will happen after this war.”
“I'm glad to hear you say that,” she replied coolly. “The rest of the world — and not just Germans — saw no sense in your First Amendment. Even other western nations took a more circumspect position on freedom of expression than some Americans did, realizing that often free speech must yield to other values and the need for order. Your own history suggests that they might have a point.”
“Wait a second,” he interrupted. “What do you mean, ‘the rest of the world?’ You've annexed every country!”
“That was over a process that took centuries,” she countered. “Much of it was through diplomacy as various cultures became integrated, much like Germany's union with Austria in 1938. In your day, Hitler was more than willing to leave other peoples to their own determination.”
“Like France and Poland?”
“Sam, those countries started this war. Poland took a portion of German territory after the first world war. It was German territory populated by German-speaking people. Hitler tried very hard to find a diplomatic solution.”
McHenry stirred. Dale straightened up in her seat. Even without trying, she towered over him in their seats.
She was speaking quickly now. “It is the English and French imperialists that decided to go to war over Poland. And yet, after so many dead, Roosevelt and Churchill have secretly decided, if they won the war, they would give half of Poland to Stalin. England gave up its original rationale for fighting. As for France, it was they that declared war on Germany. And when they finally chose peace, Hitler gave them very generous terms.”
“By occupying Paris,” he interrupted.
“That was fully intended to be temporary. You're a military officer. You can see that Germany needed a buffer along the coast while the English were preparing an invasion. As it was, Hitler offered to turn Paris and the southern coasts back to unoccupied France. They were still negotiating that when the English and the Americans invaded France's unoccupied African colonies.”
“You're talking about Operation Torch,” McHenry noted skeptically. He knew of the invasion of North Africa. McHenry had not yet been in theater at that time, but his fellow Tuskegee airmen had played a role in its aftermath. Parker had sometimes spoken of it.
“Yes,” she said smoothly. “Operation Torch. That was an illegal invasion.”
“What?” McHenry laughed. “What do you mean, ‘illegal’? We're at war.”
“America was not at war with France. Unoccupied France was a neutral country in 1942. The French people wanted peace. They had taken themselves out of the war. Nevertheless, Roosevelt and Churchill wanted to attack the German Afrika Korps, but in getting there they chose to invade the French territories of Africa. Those were French soldiers they were fighting against, not Germans. Neutral French soldiers,” she emphasized.
“Hardly neutral. Vichy France is a puppet government.”
“Call it what you like now; the United States had formally recognized it as a neutral government. Those were unoccupied French territories that they invaded.”
&
nbsp; McHenry wasn't willing to be taken in. He reached for another bite while he might work on a good response. He didn't feel he needed one. He was never going to accept a moral equivalence between Nazi invasions and an American one. Never. He pondered this while it seemed she was waiting. But then — out of the blue — she startled him:
“It's not your fault, Sam. You'd been subjected to too much Jewish propaganda coming out of New York and Hollywood.”
He put his fork down, fixing his eyes on hers, wondering how the conversation had taken this particular turn.
“This war would never have started if not for the Jews,” she added emphatically.
“You're still blaming everything on Jews?” It was more of a statement than a question. “I thought you said racism was over. Didn't you say something like it being a thousand years?” he asked, mockingly.
“This isn't racism at all,” she quickly insisted, apparently as startled as McHenry for having revealed this side of herself. “It's an observation of the facts of your times, not ours. The Jews are in control of most of your radio and newspapers, and virtually all of Hollywood. Have you seen the number of anti-German movies they are making?”
McHenry rolled his eyes. “We're at war with the Germans. What kind of people would we be if Hollywood didn't make movies supporting the war effort? And how many of those movies did they make before the war started? I don't recall many.” Then he remembered one, correcting himself. “Wait, I did see one, a James Stewart picture. They barely dared mention that it was in Germany. Heck of a conspiracy they have there. I can't believe the Reich was afraid of that.”
“It's not so simple. This wasn't just the early Reich. Most Americans in your time are just as worried about the Jewish control of news and entertainment.”
“They're not worried enough to stop watching those pictures and listening to those radio programs. And they're certainly not worried enough to lock up Jewish families and railroad them out of the country.”
“It's definitely a different situation in America,” Dale conceded. “But even now, in the middle of a war that you wish most Americans could continue to support, the majority of those Americans — sixty-five percent — agree that the Jews are at least partly to blame for Germany's restrictive policies.”
“Sixty-five percent? How would you know that?” The number was no surprise to McHenry, but he was shocked that she would have any number at all. He was reminded of the device they used to display the image of the alien ship out of his memory. “Have you been scanning everybody's brains, too?”
She laughed, obviously trying to make the talk light again. “No. Your country has these quaint public opinion polls. We take that all in. And, quite frankly, we also access all radio, and most of the world's telephone systems. Rechners listen to nearly every conversation. They catalog the attitudes revealed in what people are talking about.”
“Like I said, you've got an answer for everything.” He took the remaining two bites of his steak and washed it down with soda.
“And like I was saying,” she replied, “we certainly did make mistakes along the way. I won't argue with that. The invasion of Russia was almost a catastrophe. But there were reasons for that which were valid at that time. We do the best we can. That's all anybody can do. All I am saying is that you shouldn't judge Adolf Hitler, or us, by the lies that those American politicians — white politicians — put into your mind.”
*
McHenry left the SS section unsure of whether he had accomplished anything with Dale. He had intended to impress upon her how important it was to rescue Parker. He hoped that she may help to avoid what had happened to that Italian. Now he wondered whether she was setting him up to forgive them if they allow Parker to die. What was that bit about lies from white politicians anyway? It had sounded so very hollow, coming from a white woman with a swastika on her sleeve.
He entered the zero-gravity hangar and saw Vinson and Bamberg waving to him from the hatch of the second Tiger. Their grins disappeared when they saw the glum expression on his face. No one spoke until he had spanned the distance.
“Did you have bad news?” asked Vinson.
“I'm not sure,” McHenry answered. “She said they won't know for a while.”
Bamberg motioned them inside. They took seats in the cockpit, and positioned them in a semi-circle, strapping themselves in place as was their custom. Another custom was to start with a cup of coffee. Vinson ordered those from memory while McHenry explained how his meeting went with Dale, with all the details intact.
“I don't mind the propaganda,” McHenry concluded. “I just want to make sure they really care about Parker.”
“I am sure she cares,” said Vinson.
“She will not be making the final decision,” said Bamberg. “I am sure she cares, too, but she will do her duty, whatever that is.”
“We would all do our duty,” Vinson maintained.
“And I am sure Herr McHenry would too,” said Bamberg. He laughed and turned to McHenry. “You are our friend, and I am sure you will become a loyal citizen of the Reich once we return to our time. But I do not doubt you would escape Göring if the rechner ever gave you the opportunity.”
McHenry smiled and nodded. “Maybe so, but all I'm asking is that the SS give their approval. Am I really being too suspicious?”
“She was probably telling the truth about the delay,” replied Bamberg. “We recover satellites frequently. They sometimes order special recall missions before the scheduled retrieval dates. Current information is very important to them. That, however, does not mean the SS is being entirely candid.”
“What do you mean,” asked McHenry.
“Nothing improper, of course. The SS serves many functions. They maintain public order and they also run the Reich's intelligence service. They are the hands of the Führer.”
“What about the SS troops who were fighting in the war?”
“That was a long time ago,” said Bamberg. “For us, that is. There is a military branch called the Waffen-SS. They were very large during your war but, over the centuries, most of its operations became obsolete. We no longer have a Heer or Kriegsmarine at all, which you would call an army and navy. Land and sea warfare have become almost obsolete. The Waffen-SS itself is now used solely for special operations of the SS.”
“They have a few small starships,” added Vinson.
“Yes,” said Bamberg. “There are rumors that they have been running surveys on the Far Wall, but that is the extent of the Waffen-SS. Have you heard of the Far Wall?”
“Vinson told me about a wall in space that no ship can pass through and return from,” said McHenry, nodding to Vinson. “Why the Waffen-SS, and not the Luftwaffe?”
“It gives them something to do,” laughed Bamberg, momentarily turning his eyes to a visible portion of the entryway. “It is always ideology with those people. In any case, the SS is big, and it is involved in everything. I understand that Oberführer Mtubo had been a Waffen-SS officer until he was assigned to this project. He might even have been working on the Far Wall but I do not know that for sure. We only know from rumors when the mission began. Most of these here are with the intelligence branch. They would be using an SS ship for this mission if they had one large enough.”
“Are there any Gestapo on this ship?”
“Not that I am aware of. That is part of a completely different branch of the SS.”
“You might see them occasionally when we are back home,” said Vinson. “But most SS that you will see are with the police.”
That evoked a thought in McHenry. “Do you think there might be some people — humans, I mean — who support the Grauen?”
“It is possible,” said Bamberg. “But I hope never to meet one who does.”
Vinson and Bamberg had exchanged grim glances and those expressions became fixed into McHenry's mind. Clearly, treason was something no one could countenance. He thought about how Bamberg had so easily brushed off the possibility that he might st
ill want to escape, even though they had become good friends. Duty was so deeply ingrained into these men. He wondered whether that was in their genes, deliberately so, and concluded almost instantly that it probably was.
He now regretted having steered the conversation in this direction, as he needed to return to his point.
“So, can I trust the SS?”
Bamberg nodded. “You can trust them to operate in the best interest of the Führer.”
“I see,” said McHenry, even though he didn't. He knew only that the answer would really depend upon the interests of the Führer. Perhaps that was the best answer he could have gotten. Would the Führer care? he wondered. He couldn't see why.
“I think I see, too,” said Bamberg. “You believe there is some ulterior motive to the collecting of people from the past.”
“The thought occurred to me.”
“Then put that out of your mind. We are going to be on this mission, on this ship, for at least five years. You are a pleasant diversion for the crew. Our entertainment.”
“But what about Dale trying to indoctrinate me?”
“Probably because she likes it. She is in the SS. They like to be ideological. It's their nature.” Bamberg turned momentarily to Vinson, “Sorry. It's true.”
“It is part of her charm,” Vinson shrugged.
McHenry sat back, considering how to broach the subject, and then decided to simply say what he thought. “You can't tell me there is no propaganda value for when you return to your millennium. The Reich can parade us all around like trophy pieces.”
Bamberg laughed. “Such as might have been in your time. There is little need for that in the future. I can assure you, when the folk want to see such trophies, the rechners can present them in any form. They can create — what you think of as movies — of people saying anything they want them to say. It is like the simulator here except with images of people. You would not know the difference.”
One Thousand Years Page 11
