Tilting the Balance
( Worldwar - 2 )
Harry Turtledove
World War II screeched to a halt as the great military powers scrambled to meet an even deadlier foe. The enemy's formidable technology made their victory seem inevitable. Already Berlin and Washington, D.C., had been vaporized by atom bombs, and large parts of the Soviet Union, the United States, and Germany and its conquests lay under the invaders' thumb. Yet humanity would not give up so easily, even if the enemy's tanks, armored personnel carriers, and jet aircraft seemed unstoppable. The humans were fiendishly clever, ruthless at finding their foe's weaknesses and exploiting them. While Stalin, Churchill, Roosevelt, and Togo planned strategy, the real war continued. In Warsaw, Jews welcomed the invaders as liberators, only to be cruelly disillusioned. In China, the Communist guerrillas used every trick they knew, even getting an American baseball player to lob grenades at the enemy. Though the invaders had cut the United States practically in half at the Mississippi River and devastated much of Europe, they could not shut down America's mighty industrial power or the ferocious counterattacks of her allies. Whether delivering supplies in tiny biplanes to partisans across the vast steppes of Russia, working furiously to understand the enemy's captured radar in England, or battling house to house on the streets of Chicago, humanity would not give up. Meanwhile, an ingenious German panzer colonel had managed to steal some of the enemy's plutonium, and now the Russians, Germans, Americans, and Japanese were all laboring frantically to make their own bombs. As Turtledove's global saga of alternate history continues, humanity grows more resourceful, even as the menace worsens. No one could say when the hellish inferno of death would stop being a war of conquest and turn into a war of survival-the very survival of the planet. In this epic of civilizations in deadly combat, the end of the war could mean the end of the world as well.
Harry Turtledove
Tilting the Balance
(Worldwar — 2)
DRAMATIS PERSONAE
(Characters with names in CAPS are historical, others fictional)
HUMANS
ANIELEWICZ, MORDECHAI Leader of Jewish fighters in Poland
Auerbach, Rance Captain, U.S. Army Cavalry
Bagnall, George flight engineer in RAF bomber crew
Barisha Tavern keeper in Split, Independent State of Croatia
Berkowicz, Stefan Landlord in Lodz
BLAIR, ERIC BBC talks producer, Indian Section, London
Borcke, Martin Wehrmacht captain and interpreter in Pskov
CHILL, KURT Wehrmacht lieutenant general, 122nd Infantry, in Pskov
CHURCHILL, WINSTON prime minister of Great Britain
COMPTON, ARTHUR supervisor, University of Chicago Metallurgical Laboratory
Cooley, Mary Waitress in Idaho Springs, Colorado
Daniels, Pete ("Mutt") Sergeant, U.S. Army, in Illinois; former minor-league manager
DIEBNER, KURT Nuclear physicist, Hechingen, Germany
Donlan, Kevin U.S. Army private in Naperville, Illinois
Embry, Ken pilot of RAF bomber crew
FERMI, ENRICO nuclear physicist at the University of Chicago Metallurgical Laboratory
FERMI, LAURA Enrico Fermis wife
Fiore, Bobby Lizard experimental subject; former baseball player
FLEROV, GEORGI Soviet nuclear physicist
Fritzie Cowboy in Chugwater, Wyoming
Fukuoka, Yoshi Japanese soldier in China
GERMAN, ALEKSANDR Commander of Second Partisan Brigade in Pskov
Goldfarb, David RAF radarman
Gorbunova, Ludmila Red Air Force pilot
GROVES, LESLIE Engineer, U.S. Army colonel
Harvey Civilian guard in Idaho Springs, Colorado
HEISENBERG, WERNER Nuclear physicist in Hechingen, Germany
Henry Wounded U.S. soldier in Chicago
Hexham U.S. Army colonel in Denver
Hicks, Chester U.S. Army lieutenant in Chicago
Higuchi Japanese scientist
Hipple, Fred RAF group captain in Bruntingthorpe
Ho-T'ING, NIEH Chinese Communist guerrilla officer
Horton, Leo RAF radarman in Bruntingthorpe
HULL, CORDELL U.S. secretary of state
Isaac Jew in Leczna, Polan
Jacobi, Nathan BBC broadcaster in London
Jager, Heinrich Wehrmacht panzer colonel
Jones, Jerome RAF radarman
Karpov, Feofan Red Air Force colonel
Kennan, Maurice RAF flight lieutenant in Bruntingthorpe
Klein, Sid U.S. Army captain in Chicago
Klopotowski, Roman Townsman in Leczna, Poland
Klopotowski, Zofia Daughter of Roman Klopotowsk
KONIEV, IVAN Red Army general
KURCHATOV, IGOR Soviet nuclear physicis
Laplace, Freddie U.S. Army private in Illinois
Larssen, Barbara see Yeager, Barbara
Larssen, Jens nuclear physicist, University of Chicago Metallurgical Laboratory
Leon Jewish fighter in Lodz
Lidov, Boris NKVD lieutenant colonel, Moscow
Liu Han Chinese peasant woman; Lizard experimental subject
Lo Communist Chinese partisan
Maczek U.S. Army captain in Illinois
Meineckt, Klaus Sergeant, gunner on Heinrich Jdger's panzer
MOLOTOV, VYACHESLAV foreign commissar of the USSR
Morozkin, Sergei Red Army interpreter in Pskov
MURROW, EDWARD R. Radio news broadcaster
Nakayama Japanese scientist
NISHINA, YOSHIO Japanese nuclear physicist
Okamoto, Major Japanese interpreter and interrogator of Teerts
Olson, Louise Inhabitant of New Salem, North Dakota
Olson, Thorkil Inhabitant of New Salem, North Dakota
Oscar U.S. Army bodyguard in Denver
Peary, Julian RAF wing commander in Bruntingthorpe
Petrovic, Marko Captain, Independent State of Croatia
Potter, Lucille Nurse in Illinois
RIBBENTROP, JOACHIM VON German foreign minister
ROOSEVELT, FRANKLIN D. President of the United States
Roundbush, Basil RAFflight officer in Bruntingthorpe
RUMKOWSKI, MORDECHAI CHAIM Eldest of the Jews in the Lodz ghetto
Russie, Moishe ex-medical student in the Warsaw ghetto
Russie, Reuven Moishe Russie ‘s son
Russie, Rivka Moishe Russie’s wife
Sawatski, Emilia Wife of Wladyslaw Sawatski
Sawatski, Ewa Daughter of Wladyslaw and Emilia Sawatski
Sawatski, Jozef Son of Wladyslaw and Emilia Sawatski
Sawatski, Maria Daughter of Wladyslaw and Emilia Sawatski
Sawatski, Wladyslaw Polish farmer
Schultz, Georg Former Welarnacht panzer gunner; Red Air Force mechanic
Sharp, Hiram Physician in Ogden, Utah
Shmuel Jewish fighter in Lodz
Sholudenko, Nikifor NKVD man in the Ukraine
Shura Whore in Shanghai
SKORZENY, OTTO SS colonel
Sobieski, Tadeusz Grocer in Leczna, Poland
STALIN, IOSEF General Secretary of the Communist Party of the Soviet Union
Sumner, Joshua ("Hoot") Justice of the peace in Chugwater, Wyomin
Szabo, Bela ("Dracula") U.S. Army private in Illinois
SZILARD, LEO nuclear physicist, University of Chicago Metallurgical Laboratory
Tatiana Sniper and companion of Jerome Jones in Pskov
TOGO, SHIGENORI Japanese foreign minister
Tolya Groundcrew man, Red Air Force
Tsuye Japanese scientist
Ussishkin, Judah Doctor in Leczna, Poland
Ussishkin, Sarah Wife of J
udah Ussishkin; midwife in Leczna, Polan
van Alen, Jacob U.S. Coast Guard lieutenant in Oswego, New York
VASILIEV, NIKOLAI Commander First Partisan Brigade in Pskov
Vernon, Hank Ship's engineer in the Duluth Queen
Victor Wounded U.S. soldier in Chicago
Whyte, Alf RAF navigator
Wittman, Rolf Driver in Heinrich Jdgers panzer
Yeager, Barbara Former graduate student in medieval literature; Sam Yeager's wife
Yeager, Sam outfielder Decatur Commodores (I–I-I League)
ZHUKOV, GEORGI Marshal of the Soviet Union
THE RACE
Atvar fleetlord, conquest fleet of the Race
Bunim Official in Lodz
Drefsab Intelligence agent and ginger addict
Forssis Landcruiser gunner in BesanVon, France
Hessef Landcruiser gunner in BesanVon, France
Ianxx Officer in Shanghai
Kassnass Landcruiser unit commander in BesanVon, France
Kirel Shiplord of the 127th Emperor Hetto
Nejas Landcruiser commander in BesanCon, France
Nossat Psychologist
Ristin Lizard POW with the Metallurgical Laboratory
Sherran The first male to circumnavigate Home, Landcruiser gunner in BesanVon, France
Skoob The first male to circumnavigate Home, Landcruiser gunner in BesanVon, France
Ssamraff Investigator in China
Starraf Researcher in China
Straha shiplord of the 206th Emperor Yower
Teerts POW in Japan
Tessrek senior psychologist
Ttomalss Researcher in China
Tvenkel Landcruiser gunner in BesanCon, Franc
Ullhass soldier captured by U.S. Army
Ussmak landcruiser driver
I
For nostalgia’s sake, Fleetlord Atvar called up the hologram of the Tosevite warrior he had often studied before the invasion fleet actually reached the world of Tosev 3. Nostalgia was an emotion that came easily to the Race: with a unified history of a hundred thousand years, with an empire that stretched over three solar systems and now reached out to a fourth, the past seemed a safe, comfortable place, not least because it was so much like the present.
The hologram sprang into being before the fleetlord: a stalwart savage, his pinkish face sprouting yellowish hairs, clad in soft iron mail and woven animal and plant fibers, armed with spear and rust-flecked sword, and mounted on a Tosevite quadruped that looked distinctly too scrawny for the job of carrying him.
Sighing, Atvar turned to the shiplord Kirel, who commanded the 127th Emperor Hetto, bannership of the invasion fleet. He stabbed a fingerclaw at the image. “If only it had been so easy,” he said with a sigh.
“Yes, Exalted Fleetlord.” Kirel sighed, too. He turned both eye turrets toward the hologram. “It was what the probe led us to expect.”
“Yes,” Atvar said sourly. Preparing in its methodical way for another conquest, the Race had sent a probe across the interstellar void sixteen hundred years before (years of the Race, of course; Tosev 3 orbited its primary only about half as fast). The probe dutifully sampled the planet, sent its images and data back Home. The Race prepared the invasion fleet and sent it out, certain of easy victory: how much could a world change in a mere sixteen hundred years?
Atvar touched a control in the base of the holographic projector. The Tosevite warrior disappeared. New images took the Big Ugly’s place: a Russki landcruiser, red star painted on its turret, lightly armed and protected by the Race’s standards but well-designed, with sloped armor and wide treads for getting over the worst ground; an American heavy machine gun, with a belt full of big slugs that tore through body armor as if it were fiberboard; a Deutsch killercraft, turbojets slung under swept wings, nose bristling with cannon.
Kirel pointed toward the killercraft. “That one concerns me more than either of the others, Exalted Fleetlord. By the Emperor”-both he and Atvar briefly cast down their eyes at the mention of the sovereign-“the Deutsche did not have that aircraft less than two years ago, when our campaign began.”
“I know,” Atvar said. “All their aircraft-all Tosevite aircraft then-were those slow, awkward things propelled by rapidly rotating airfoils. But now the British are flying jets, too.”
He summoned an image of the new British killercraft. It didn’t look as menacing as the machine the Deutsche made: its wings lacked sweep and its lines were more graceful, less predatory. From the reports Atvar had read, it didn’t perform quite as well as the Deutsch killercraft, either. But it was a quantum leap better than anything the British had put into the air before.
Fleetlord and shiplord stared glumly at the hologram. The trouble with the natives of Tosev 3 was that they were, by the Race’s standards, insanely inventive. The social scientists attached to the fleet were still trying to figure out how the Big Uglies had gone from barbarism to a full-grown industrial civilization in the blink of an historical eye. Their solutions-or rather, conjectures-had yet to satisfy Atvar.
Part of the answer, he suspected, lay in the squabbling multiplicity of empires that divided up Tosev 3’s meager land surface. Some of them weren’t even empires in the strict sense of the word; the regime of the SSSR, for instance, openly boasted of liquidating its former ruling dynasty. The idea of impericide was enough to make Atvar queasy.
Empires and not-empires had competed fiercely among themselves. They’d been fighting a planetwide war when the Race arrived. Doctrine from earlier conquests said the Race ought to have been able to take advantage of their factionalism, play off one side against another. The tactic had worked now and again, but not as well and not as often as doctrine suggested it would.
Atvar sighed and told Kirel, “Before I came to Tosev 3, I was like any sensible male: I was sure doctrine held all the answers. Follow it and you’d obtain the results it predicted. The males who designed our doctrines should have seen this world first; it would have broadened their horizons.”
“This is truth, Exalted Fleetlord,” the shiplord said. “One thing Tosev 3 has taught us is the difference between precept and experience.”
“Yes. Well put,” Atvar said. The last world conquest the Race had undertaken lay thousands of years in the past. The fleetlord had pored over the manuals of what had worked then, and in the Race’s previous victory, even more thousands of years before that. But no one having had any practice using what was in the manuals.
The Tosevites, by contrast, conquered one another and dickered with one another all the time. They made deception and deceit into an art, and were perfectly willing to educate the Race as to their use. Atvar had learned the hard way how much-or rather, how little-Big Ugly promises were worth.
“The other trouble is, they make war the same way they conduct the rest of their dealings with us: they cheat,” Atvar grumbled.
“Truth again, Exalted Fleetlord,” Kirel said.
The fleetlord knew it was truth. Machine against machine, the Big Uglies could not match the Race: one landcruiser Atvar commanded, for instance, was worth anywhere between ten and thirty of its Tosevite opponents. The Big Uglies fought back with everything from mine-carrying animals trained to run under landcruiser tracks to set off their explosives to attacks that concentrated so many of their inferior weapons against the Race’s thin-stretched resources that they achieved breakthrough in spite of lower technology.
Kirel might have plucked that thought from Atvar’s head. “Will we resume our assault on the city by the lake in the northern section of the smaller continental mass? Chicago, the local name is.”
“Not immediately,” Atvar answered, trying to keep from his voice all the frustration he felt at the failure. Taking advantage of Tosev 3’s truly abominable winter weather, the Americans had broken through the flanks of the assault force, cut off the lead element, and wrecked most of it. It was the worst-and most expensive-embarrassment the Race had suffered on Tosev 3.
“We do
not enjoy as many resources as we would like,” Kirel observed.
Now Atvar had to say, “Truth” The Race was careful and thorough: the weapons they’d brought from Home would have conquered a hundred times over the Tosev 3 they thought they would find, very possibly without losing a male. But on the industrialized planet they discovered, they’d taken major losses. They’d inflicted far worse, but the Big Uglies’ factories kept turning out weapons.
“We need to keep working to co-opt as much of their industrial capacity as we can,” Kirel said, “and to wreck that part which persists in producing arms used against us.”
“Unfortunately, the two goals often contradict each other,” Atvar said. “Nor is our progress in destroying their fuel sources as great as they would wish us to believe, though we persist in those efforts.”
The three males who had bombed the refineries at Ploesti, which supplied the Deutsche with much of their fuel, were convinced they’d wrecked the place. Since then, a pall of smoke had continuously lain over it, making reconnaissance difficult.
For as long as he could-for longer than he should have-Atvar believed with his, pilots that that smoke meant the Deutsche could not control the refinery fires. But it wasn’t so; he couldn’t make himself think it was any more. The Big Uglies were shipping refined petroleum out of Ploesti every way they knew how: by water, by their battered rail network, by motorized conveyance, even by animal-drawn wagon.
The story wasn’t much different at the other refinery complexes scattered across Tosev 3. They were easy to damage, hard to eliminate; since they were huge fire hazards just by existing, the Big Uglies had built them to minimize danger from explosions. They ferociously defended them and repaired bomb damage faster than the Race’s alleged experts had thought possible.
Atvar’s phone squawked at him. He welcomed the distraction from his own gloomy thoughts. “Yes?” he said into the speaker.
Exalted Fleetlord, the male Drefsab awaits your pleasure in the antechamber,” an aide reported.
“I am still conferring with the shiplord Kirel,” Atvar said. “Tell Drefsab I shall see him directly when I’m finished.”
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