Furthermore, there was something Hilda herself wanted to do.
“I shall visit the kaiser’s sister—the Archduchess von Grünewald.”
This idea had been with her since her fateful night with Reinhard, but no opportunity to put it into practice had presented itself. Reinhard’s absence might make it possible. Hilda had no objection to Reinhard’s sister knowing the entire situation as her father did—indeed, she wished this were so. Annerose had, after all, raised Reinhard with tenderness and care, and knew all his strengths and weaknesses.
Reinhard had lived a life rich in splendor but not in variety. In fact, his life had been rather simple. His values were clear, his goals unambiguous; it had remained only for him to keep his eyes fixed on the latter as he advanced.
A simple life is inevitable for those who must turn their full intellect and ability to the task of defeating a mighty enemy. In Reinhard’s case, the impossibly vast goal of toppling the Goldenbaum Dynasty had always helped him find the shortest route through the uncharted wilderness before him.
Yang Wen-li, on the other hand, had trod a far more complicated and winding intellectual path. His faith in democracy had never wavered, but he had certainly experienced its worst abuses, both directly and indirectly.
There had always been a spiral of ambivalence in Yang’s life, thought, and values. His apparently eccentric but actually stable character and unfailing broadmindedness had helped him retain control.
In brooding over the Westerland Atrocity, Reinhard was, perhaps, a frailer ruler than the “Steel Giant” Rudolf von Goldenbaum had been.
But it was not strength in the Rudolfian sense that Hilda sought from him.
Reinhard had only an imperfect perception of Hilda’s thoughts and feelings. Once he had said what needed to be said, he raised an awkward hand and tried to leave the room first. As his motion raised a whisper of wind, Hilda spoke.
“Your Majesty.”
“Yes?”
“Please be careful.”
The young emperor looked at his beautiful advisor as if puzzled. When he digested the meaning of her words, a smile almost appeared on his face. He nodded once, and then turned to leave.
Hilda had a sympathizer and advisor in her father. Setting Yang aside as a special case, who did Reinhard have? None of those who had supported him this way in the past were close enough to hear him call now. Or if they were, they were not visible to mortal eyes.
Even loyal retainers like Mittermeier and Müller could never act as confidants of this sort. The exposure of his immaturity and vulnerability to the Mariendorfs had been an inevitable result of events, and the prospect of approaching Mittermeier or Müller to discuss his private life—of allowing them to learn of his weaknesses—held only unease.
IV
As for Mittermeier, he was too busy with his multiple key positions in the military to volunteer for the kaiser’s retinue like Lutz, but he did invite Müller into his office and grill him on the matter, from the broadest outlines to the smallest details. Müller was just two years younger than him, and he trusted his friend and comrade deeply.
“I think I know what concerns you,” Mittermeier said. “In June, Yang Wen-li was assassinated while traveling to meet the kaiser. You fear that this tragedy may be repeated.”
“I do.” Müller nodded, a hint of anxiety in his sand-colored eyes. Those who tasted success always sought to re-create it; this was simply how the human mind worked. “I would have preferred that the kaiser remain on Phezzan, but with the situation as it is, a cancellation would only encourage worse imaginings among the people.”
“Well said. Still, the craft of all this!”
With rumors circulating that the kaiser was afraid to leave the capital lest he fall victim to von Reuentahl’s rebellion, Reinhard’s personality all but guaranteed that he would refuse to remain in a safe place. This, in turn, would prove other rumors true. It was a trap designed to drag him to the Neue Land no matter how he responded. A simple, effective, and utterly brazen trap. Mittermeier shuddered.
Had this conspiracy been in preparation since von Reuentahl’s relationship with Duke Lichtenlade’s daughter had been revealed, some six months earlier? If so, was the distasteful weasel Heidrich Lang pulling the strings?
This seemed unlikely. Lang’s mastery of intrigue aside, he did not seem to Mittermeier the sort who could organize and execute something on this scale. It seemed more likely that Lang himself was under the influence of another, still more cunning figure. It would not be long before this suspicion was proven correct.
“That said,” Mittermeier continued, “These conspirators cannot have much in the way of military capacity. If the kaiser travels with fifty or a hundred ships, this should be sufficient to deter them without aggravating von Reuentahl.”
“True. But whether His Majesty will agree even to that…”
“Let me make the request. I’m sure he will approve a force of that size.”
The two young admirals shared a rueful smile. The kaiser’s willfulness and pride could be vexing, but were also among the reasons they loved him.
“By the way, has the minister of military affairs offered any further opinions about all this?” Mittermeier asked, an ironic gleam in his lively grey eyes. They all knew that von Oberstein viewed von Reuentahl’s invitation with suspicion, and when the topic of conversation turned to the minister, Mittermeier’s feelings were expressed directly in his physiology.
If von Reuentahl does rebel, he will muster his forces for a decisive frontal assault. He is not the type to use intrigue and deception to get close enough to the kaiser to stab him in the back—unlike some I could mention.
But Mittermeier could not say this, no matter how much he might want to. Too much was at stake. A higher rank was not always license to speak one’s mind.
“As far as I know, the minister has said nothing more since the original meeting,” Müller said. “Nor is his name on the retinue list.”
“Good to hear.”
Mittermeier did not want von Oberstein to accompany Reinhard to the Neue Land, of course, but this was not out of personal animosity. It was because he knew that there was a magnetic repulsion between von Oberstein and von Reuentahl, far sharper and deeper than its surface manifestations. It seemed all too probable to him that von Oberstein’s presence alone might aggravate von Reuentahl in precisely the wrong way.
Had von Oberstein been the kind of man to prioritize self-preservation, he would not seek to accompany the kaiser on a mission like this in the first place. But even Mittermeier had to admit that the minister was not content by nature to protect his own interests and safety. A goal he considered important might drive him to act in unexpected ways, even at his own expense. Mittermeier could not help feeling uneasy at this prospect—for von Reuentahl’s sake, of course, not von Oberstein’s.
At that time, there were aspects to the unfolding conspiracy that Mittermeier simply did not see. This was because he had always strived to live a life free of intrigue and contrivance, and largely been successful.
Indeed, at that point, to grasp the full extent of the web of intrigue that the Church of Terra’s leadership had spun across the galaxy would have been a near-supernatural feat of insight. No mere human is in a position to attack Mittermeier for his limitations in that area.
However, even without any talent for conspiracy, Mittermeier’s judgment as a high-placed state official revealed to him the essential danger of the situation. If the rumors of rebellion turned out to be true, even after it was put down mutual distrust would remain between the kaiser and his officials. The former would think, Even von Reuentahl betrayed me—who will be next?; the latter, Even von Reuentahl was purged—who will be next? An endless chain of purges and revolts would be the inevitable result.
“No matter,” Mittermeier said. “Whatever the minister’s opinions may be, I have my own way of doing things. I will concentrate the forces of the space armada in the sectors around Schatten
berg.”
Schattenberg, which meant “City of Shadows,” was the name of a fortress slated for construction in former alliance territory, at the Neue Land end of the Phezzan Corridor. It would not compare to Iserlohn Fortress, but it would block the entrance to the corridor and play a major role not only in defending the new imperial capital but as a base for sorties, supplies, and communications.
Incidentally, the fortress to be constructed at the other end of the Phezzan Corridor, in imperial territory, was to be called Drei Großadmiralsburg. This name meant “City of the Three Marshals,” and commemorated the three imperial marshals of the Lohengramm Dynasty who had already fallen in battle—Kircheis, Fahrenheit, and Steinmetz.
“If someone else dies, are they going to rename it Führ Großadmiralsburg?” was Wittenfeld’s joke, so unfunny it drew only grimaces from his friends—but, in any case, the construction of these two new fortresses would have great import for the continued existence and expansion of Reinhard’s fledgling dynasty and indeed empire, whose two halves were connected by the Phezzan Corridor. The kaiser’s grand vision of galactic unity was steadily being realized in practical efforts such as these, Mittermeier, in his capacity as military leader, was responsible for overseeing and directing the project, which was another reason why he could not join the kaiser’s retinue.
It was a new age. Mittermeier was adapting to his new duties and finding success dealing with the new challenges that came his way. He was the bravest general in the Galactic Navy, but he was more besides. His flexibility and broad-mindedness were rated extremely highly by Oskar von Reuentahl, among others, although he was not aware of this himself. Reinhard, of course, saw this side of Mittermeier too, which was why he had always entrusted the Gale Wolf with such important duties.
If relations between Reinhard and his officials truly did descend into a cycle of purge and rebellion, Mittermeier thought, for what would they have risked their lives to overthrow the Goldenbaum Dynasty and crush the Free Planets Alliance? What purpose would the trail of bloodshed they had left across the galaxy have served? The Lohengramm Dynasty had brought peace and unity to the galaxy, and established a more progressive and just government across at least half of it. One mistake could stain those dazzling achievements the dark red of a reign of terror in a development that later ages would view with contempt and derision.
That could not be allowed to happen. The kaiser would have to show broad-mindedness, and von Reuentahl would have to exercise self-control.
“Admiral Müller, I place His Majesty’s very life in your hands. Be sure that you and Lutz work together to bring him safely home to Phezzan.”
“I will spare no effort. Come now, though, surely you don’t think anything will actually happen?”
Müller’s relaxed smile was presumably an attempt at reassuring the friend he loved and respected that all would be well. As the two men shook hands, Mittermeier prayed that Müller was correct.
V
“However diabolical the conspiracy from which it resulted, the shoots of rebellion can only grow from fertile soil. We must conclude that there was already enough distance between Kaiser and von Reuentahl for the conspirators to work with.”
Although rather materialist in tendency, historical criticism of this nature is at least partly correct.
Reinhard had always planned to tour the Neue Land once the war was over. Precisely because it was a new addition to the empire, he would have to seize every opportunity to demonstrate his dignity and benevolence to his subjects, even creating more opportunities to do so if necessary. As a result, it was not suspicious in and of itself that von Reuentahl should invite him there.
For von Reuentahl, the situation was more complicated. Just before sending the invitation, the antennae he had left on Phezzan conveyed to his ears a peculiar rumor:
“His Majesty the kaiser remains troubled by frequent outbreaks of unexplained fever. Worse, Minister von Oberstein and Junior Minister Lang are taking advantage of the kaiser’s illness and growing more despotic by the day. Von Oberstein behaves more like a prime minister, and Lang treats his ministry as a personal possession, much to the people’s dismay. Furthermore, Lang bears such a grudge against von Reuentahl that he slanders him at every opportunity, endlessly petitioning the kaiser to recall him to Phezzan and purge him. Worst of all, he claims that von Reuentahl means to invite the kaiser to the Neue Land and assassinate him there…”
The fact that Lang himself was the source of this information was part of the plot’s craft. Von Reuentahl was capable of utterly unsentimental strategic observation, but he did not realize that Lang’s exaggerations and fabrications were specifically for von Reuentahl’s benefit. Because he was by nature a ruler, he thought of rebellion as purely negative for those in power. The idea of inciting a revolt intended to be suppressed was alien to him. He had confidence in his skills as a military leader, and was alarmed by this threat to the relationship of trust between him and the kaiser.
His view of Lang was also colored by preconceptions. He did not believe that Lang truly respected the kaiser, and suspected him of malicious intent toward von Reuentahl himself. It did not help that these preconceptions were true. The result of all this was that he was taken in by Lang’s scheming.
“His Majesty is not the type to be led astray by a worthless sycophant like Lang,” he told himself. “He surely remembers that only this spring Lang attempted to capture me in that wretched snare—and failed miserably.”
Still, a degree of unease stayed with him. He called in his close friend Bergengrün, inspector general of the military, and asked what he made of the rumors circulating on the new imperial capital.
“I agree that our kaiser is unlikely to be moved by Lang’s flattery,” Bergengrün said. “What concerns me is the possibility of another actor in all this intrigue. Someone for whom Lang simply serves as a ventriloquist’s dummy.”
Bergengrün intentionally mentioned no names, but the prime suspect he had in mind was all too clear to von Reuentahl. He saw the minister of military affairs’ unnaturally brilliant cybernetic eyes in his mind. It was not the first time that an apprehensive von Reuentahl had considered the unpleasant possibility that von Oberstein might not have the kaiser’s best interests at heart.
“What a disappointment it would be to learn that mein Kaiser has sunk to the level of a puppet for men like von Oberstein and Lang,” von Reuentahl said. Such would be a pathetic end for a life of such spectacular ambition. And so the marshal’s own ambitious nature led him to a new idea: What if he were to take over from von Oberstein and Lang, and protect the kaiser himself?
Reinhard would arrive for his tour of the Neue Land with only the lightest of guards. Von Reuentahl could refuse to let him leave, and announce the transfer of Imperial Headquarters and the kaiser’s court to Heinessen. Von Oberstein and Lang, still on Phezzan, would be helpless to stop him.
Was this not the ideal opportunity to gather the entire galaxy into his own hands?
Naturally, Reinhard could not be expected to meekly acknowledge von Reuentahl’s superiority. He would no doubt struggle to escape from custody and start a war to win back his position and authority. But that would be interesting in itself. As a military opponent, not even von Oberstein posed a serious threat to von Reuentahl, much less Lang. Even if von Oberstein was behind the current plot, it relied on the kaiser’s power to function. He was not a worthy adversary for von Reuentahl’s five million troops and strategic genius.
In the Goldenbaum Dynasty, purges of capable retainers had not been rare. Some had returned in triumph from campaign victories only to be stripped of their authority upon arrival and sent straight to the execution grounds. If Reinhard’s illness was clouding his judgment, this undesirable practice of the former dynasty might be revived for use against von Reuentahl.
Nor, indeed, was von Reuentahl’s own transparency complete or uncolored. He had his own ruthless side, and since accepting his post as governor-general he had
been exploring how much political and military pressure the Neue Land’s production capacity would allow it to bring to bear on the empire’s original territory. Of course, he had always envisioned his enemy in these scenarios as von Oberstein.
For this reason, historians of later ages who were critical of von Reuentahl made assertions like the following:
“As a retainer to Kaiser Reinhard, Oskar von Reuentahl lacked loyalty; as the leader of a revolt, he lacked decisiveness. Ultimately, rather than a traitor, he was simply an eternal dissatisfied element.”
“With a little more awareness of where he stood in the course of history, he would surely have perceived that his contributions were needed most of all in the establishment of peace and order. Did the reason and intellect that had helped him succeed and flourish up to that point abandon him when he reached his highest position as retainer?”
“By betraying Reinhard at the final stage, he left the impression that the loyalty he had shown the kaiser up to that point had all been a lie. This was nobody’s fault but his own…”
Nevertheless, no historians dared bend the truth enough to call him incompetent. On the contrary—the consensus was that it was precisely a surfeit of genius and ability that drove him off-course.
We might also examine the views of Julian Mintz, a contemporary witness from the camp permanently opposed to the marshal:
“…Oskar von Reuentahl was a man of towering achievement. His abilities qualified him for any position, whether as military leader, governor-general of vast territorial holdings, or even prime minister. But there was one position in that age to which he was not suited: ruler of a newly founded empire. In a dynasty that had reached its third generation, for example, it is difficult to imagine a more outstanding candidate for emperor. Inheriting the policies of the preceding administration, he would doubtless have cultivated their merits, corrected their flaws, enforced discipline, reconstituted state organizations, suppressed military rebellion and protected imperial authority and the people, and in all things used his mighty powers of leadership to maintain an unshakable central unity. There is no question that he would have been a greater ruler than the majority of the Goldenbaum emperors.… However, in his empire, the capital would surely have remained on Odin. Among his contemporaries, however, there was a youth whose incomparable genius shifted the center of galactic rule to Phezzan. From this perspective, von Reuentahl comes to appear a conservative man in a foundational age. Was it simple ill fortune that he shared the age with Kaiser Reinhard, the founder himself? Or…”
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