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Keeping my memories from my previous life had provided me with advantages throughout my military career. My recollection of history and the development of modern technology was useful, of course, but I always felt that the greatest asset was my own personal experience. For example, I was always able to carry myself well in meetings with the top brass. The time I put in on the golf course, steak house, and karaoke club had left me with an ability to schmooze that was as precocious as my ability with a rifle.

None of that, though, had done much to prepare me to be the top brass myself. The men of the cabinet would have been the sort, in my past life, to be my boss's boss's boss. And now I was expected to lead all of them by virtue of my position as chancellor.

Chancellor Degurechaff. What a joke. I had only demanded the position out of a sense of obligation to the party after we achieved such magnificent electoral gains. I was prepared to back down after a chiding from newly elected President Rudersdorf. Indeed, I was counting on such a response. I had no interest in taking on responsibility for the many disasters sure to befall Germania in the near future. I had hoped to perhaps have some influence over the government's approach to the hyperinflation problem.

Unfortunately, Rudersdorf had cheerfully acquiesced in my ascension, only insisting on retaining the power to appoint most of the cabinet. Though I was happy to keep the bulk of my party as far as possible from the levers of power, I was still in a tricky position. In my darker moments I wondered if Rudersdorf intended to set me up to fail. It would really take the wind out of the sails of the party's success if I fell on my face after being handed power. Really, though, I don't think he would be happy with that much damage being done to the country. Maybe such a thing could be considered his backup plan.

Ah, well. I had led a group of battle maniacs all over the world during the war. The experience should carry over, at least a little bit. And these old timers wouldn't have the chance to shoot me in the back if they disagreed with what I was doing.

I kept that thought in mind as I strode through the double doors, approaching the long table set in the center of the room to stand behind the empty seat at its head. The murmur of conversation that had been filling the room faded away as the men seated around the table looked up at me. One of them began preparing to light a cigar.

"Save the cigar for after the meeting," I said. "I dislike the smoke."

He looked up at me in surprise. I just held his gaze evenly. We weren't in the military, so I couldn't simply execute him if he disobeyed. On the other hand, I would certainly be able to arrange something unpleasant. As chancellor I could do at least that much. He must have come to the same conclusion, as after a moment he lowered his head and set the cigar off to the side.

My first taste of the arbitrary exercise of authority was sweet indeed. I would be able to walk out of this room and work for the rest of the day without smelling as though I was just home from a bar. Never let it be said that the chancellorship was without its perks.

I took a deep breath and brought my thoughts under control. General Zettour had been appointed Minister of the Interior and was no doubt here to act as Rudersdorf's eyes and ears. He'd report back if I went mad with power. I needed to hold myself to a reasonable standard of behavior.

I clasped my hands together before spreading them out wide as I took my seat. "Let's not waste time. The most important issue facing our nation today is the inflation crisis. Mr. Klohse, your thoughts?"

Ludwig Klohse, our Minister of Finance, had a reputation as a steady, competent man. It matched his appearance, which was tidy if not impressive. He responded to my question readily enough at least.

"There are two broad categories of factors driving the inflation. The first have to do with the fundamental value of the paper mark. The second have to do with the mood of the people," he said. He looked around the room, visibly gauging the level of financial expertise sitting around the table. I could empathize. It was never easy to figure out how to summarize relevant details when presenting a topic to laypeople. "The fundamental value problems will largely go away if we stop increasing the money supply. No more loans from the state bank to the government and no more pallets of banknotes printed off to make payroll."

I was unwilling to leave things at just that. "Ordinarily we would also tighten reserve requirements, but there's not much consumer lending to worry about these days, right?"

He looked a little relieved. I couldn't blame him for expecting the career military officer elected on a populist platform to be a complete meathead. It was fortunate for him that I had been required to take an introductory macroeconomics course back in the day. I didn't remember any of the math but I kept hold of the basic idea that loans create money. The existence of more money naturally means that any individual unit of money will be worth less than it otherwise would. A government that encourages a lot of lending will, all else being equal, tend to see more inflation. My predecessor had been interested in every source of "free money" he could get his hands on and had essentially turned every inflationary knob up to the maximum.

"Just so," he said, nodding. "Unfortunately, without the injection of new money I'm afraid the government won't be able to meet its own financial obligations for more than a week or so."

"Don't worry about the practical problems," I said, waving my hand. "To the financial problem of reduced monetary value you've presented us with the financial solution of reduced monetary supply. What of the mood of the people?"

"We need to convince the people that we are sincere in our commitment to the new policy of reduced monetary supply. The ideal situation would be to introduce a new currency tied to a precious metal," he said. "Unfortunately, as a result of the treaty of Triano we have no reserve of gold or silver. I have a proposal prepared for a rye-backed currency but, again, the government would somehow have to acquire a strategic stockpile of rye."

Introducing a new currency would have two positive effects. First, a currency backed by a valuable material has a natural floor to its value. The people would trust it in a way that they would not trust a new fiat currency. Second, a new mark would take the place of a trillion or more of the old marks, and in so doing would return prices to a natural level. In principle it is no different whether a loaf of bread costs two marks or two trillion, so long as the rest of the economy adjusts appropriately to the value of a mark. In practice, though, the price of two marks feels more normal and so helps set the mind of the ordinary citizen at ease.

What Klohse had described was the dilemma that had trapped the previous government. In order to put a halt to inflation the government needed to spend money, but the only practical means they had to raise money would lead to more inflation. Fortunately for me, they had accidentally built up an escape route, although they had been unwilling to take it.

"A coal-backed currency would function just as a currency backed by any other mineral, would it not?" I asked. "Our territory produces all the coal we could ever need."

"Yes, although the government would still have to acquire-"

"The government has already acquired quite a stockpile of coal," I said. "I believe it is even conveniently stored near a stockpile of other precious material that could be sold in order to fund the government's operations until tax revenues once more come in line with expenses."

He simply stared at me. As expected of a bureaucrat, once resources were filed away as destined for reparations payments he treated them as if they did not exist.

It was General Zettour who broke the silence. "I believe Mr. Klohse is concerned that reallocating those resources and deliberately failing to make our reparations payments could instigate a crisis."

"Oh. I see," I said. I paused to take a sip of coffee. "Do the rest of you also fear this... crisis?"

I cast my eyes over the crowd. The party man I'd installed as Minister of Economic Affairs seemed confident in me. Visha, the only member of our party I'd considered level headed enough to take the post of Deputy Chancellor, was of course calm. The rest of the cabinet seemed quite perturbed at the thought of a crisis that was almost half a year away. How disappointing.

"Thank you, General Zettour, for exposing this strand of naivete," I said, setting my coffee back down. I let the rest of the cabinet babble for a moment before slapping my palm down on the table. I tapped into enough mana to make a satisfying crash but not quite enough to smash through the table. It quieted the room down quite nicely at the cost of spilling the remainder of my coffee. "Silence! You all cower at the thought of a crisis six months away while ignoring the crisis taking place right now. What can I call that but naive?"

I never seriously wanted to be chancellor. Now that I had the position, though, I was hardly going to stand by and watch the country burn. I didn't expect to hold this position for long, but as long as I had it I was going to do my best. If doing my best meant saving these idiots from themselves, then that was where I would start.

"Do you think the voters chose me because they liked my dress? Do you think that if I fail they will line up behind a nice centrist party?" I continued. "The people are hungry. The people are angry. The people want change. If I don't deliver the change they want, they will find somebody who can."

That prompted some uncomfortable fidgeting around the table. I couldn't help but wonder how many of them were hoping that the madness that had led to my victory was a passing fancy on the part of the voters.

"In all honesty, if I resign tomorrow I expect that revolutionaries would take over within the month," I said. "That might prompt the Francois into action, but I doubt their armies could reach Berun before everyone in here was executed as an enemy of the people."

A Francois occupation would be humiliating. A communist revolution would see blood running in the streets. I would rather avoid both, but given the choice I would oppress the commies every time.

When I paused again to survey the mood of the room, nobody seemed inclined to voice any further objections. I returned my attention to my Minister of Finance. "Now, will using the reparations stockpile in such a fashion see us through the current crisis?"

Klohse nodded.

I smiled. "Wonderful. I will trust you to see to the details."

"There remains the matter of revaluation," Klohse said. "The new mark will take the place of a trillion of the old marks. This will officially render worthless the long term debt held by our banks."

"How unfortunate for the lenders," I said. "And yet in equal measure a boon for borrowers."

The heart of the concept of revaluation is to cut lenders a break on cumulative inflation. Instead of a loan being worth only one trillionth of its old value, they would be much better off if it were only one tenth or only one fifth of its old value.

Any transaction with a loser naturally has a winner as well. Any help we would give to banks in this matter would be a harm inflicted on borrowers. Besides my personal inclination to let the chips fall where they may without government interference, there was also the fact that more of my voters were borrowers than lenders. Klohse was going to have to make an impressive pitch if he wanted me to support his plan.

"It's not exactly an even trade," he said. "Home mortgages, for example, will be inflated away into nothing while the homes preserve their value in the new currency."

"If the homes had decreased in value instead, would the banks have obediently reduced the amount borrowers needed to pay?" I asked. "Or is it that borrowers should pay because they have the ability, while the banks collect because they need the money? Perhaps we should have invited the communists into the governing coalition after all."

It was a little cruel to mock him like that, but one thing that always pissed me of as an advocate of the free market was the farce known as a private-public partnership. Inevitably the way things worked was that the private half pocketed the gains while the public side shouldered the losses. The intervention Klohse was proposing was an even more blatant gift to the banks.

"The recent hyperinflation is hardly part of the normal ebb and flow of the market. It's an act of God that defies all reasonable planning," he replied. "Besides, if we do not provide a revaluation it would drive large portions of the banking sector out of business. That many destroyed savings accounts could trigger a nationwide bank run."

That brought me up short. My first instinct was to retort that most borrowers would be able to rely on deposit insurance. Then I remembered that financial regulations barely existed at this time. Deposit insurance was just a dream in some bureaucrat's eye. If a large swath of small accounts were wiped out then a panic and follow up bank run would naturally ensue. That sort of thing was common during the Great Depression.

Even if personal savings were at a low ebb right now due to the low value of the mark, a debacle like that would be a black mark on my record. I'd have to bend a little.

"Very well," I said. "Have your office determine the very minimum relief that must be granted in order to keep most banks solvent."

His shoulders sagged in relief as he nodded, looking away from me briefly to take a few notes. I wasn't willing to just let things rest there, though.

"In addition, have them calculate a fair rate for deposit insurance," I continued. "We will offer such insurance subject to reasonable regulation. Purchase will be mandatory for any bank that wishes to benefit from revaluation."

"Understood," Klohse replied.

"Make sure that they understand that this trick of holding the people's savings hostage will only work once," I said. "And, Mr. Klohse, please remember that you work for the people and manage the banks. Not the other way around."

He nodded once more. That tension that had just been released from his shoulders had returned, and his knuckles were going white where he was gripping his pen. Good. This was hardly a time for our Minister of Finance to be at ease. I turned my attention to the rest of the cabinet.

"Some day our next crisis will be a year away. Or ten. Perhaps we will build a foundation that will stand without worry for a thousand years," I said. "Today, though, we will discuss how to address the crisis we know to be approaching in six months."

ooOoo

One thing I had to give the finance department credit for was that with all their practice lately they were able to create a new set of paper notes in record time. I had stopped down in the cafeteria after the meeting for a quick lunch and by the time I returned to my office they had already sent up the associated paperwork. The most notable form was the single sheet of paper marked only with a large rectangle and accompanied by a felt tip pen. Apparently I was to provide a signature and they would use some process or other to make a smaller copy appear on the new money.

Elya watched with some interest as I signed with a flourish. Despite her position as my secretary she hadn't handled much of my personal paperwork. She leaned in to look closer before tapping the end of the signature with her finger.

"What's this?"

I felt a little sheepish. My handwriting was barely legible. In my defense, the Germanian alphabet was the fourth or fifth writing system that I had learned, depending on how you counted. Also, at the age where most children were learning how to write longhand I was learning aerial combat doctrine. Even so, there was no denying that if you looked at my signature the only letters that even careful study would reveal were the T, D, and f. There was also the mark Elya had identified, where I had drawn a vertical line down through the trailing horizontal line coming off of the f before finishing it off with a little circle. The end result was a little doodle that resembled the shape of a computation orb.

"Ah, my cursive is no good, so I got in the habit of adding that to my signature so it was at least obvious it was from a mage officer," I admitted. "I guess I should change it now that I'm chancellor."

"No, if that's how you sign then that's how you sign," Elya said. "I was just thinking... we've been trying to come up with a new party symbol."

"Oh?" I asked. The old symbol was functional, but that was about all that could be said for it. It was the party initials set in the center of a circle. I was never much for graphic design so I'd never taken a crack at improving it.

"We wanted to make something that would look sharp for the new party headquarters," she said.

"New headquarters?"

"With the recent growth there are a lot more administrative roles to fill."

Perhaps I had been delegating a bit too much lately, if such a major decision was proceeding without my input. On the other hand, I guess it wouldn't really hurt to buy some more real estate. In the face of Elya's innocent smile I just couldn't bear to tell her that our hold on power was unlikely to last. Worst come to worst we could just sell the new headquarters after the next round of elections.

"Well, I'll leave such things to you," I said. "Do you have the maps I asked for?"

"Yes," she said, lifting a paper wrapped bundle off of her desk. "Detailed maps of the Mediterranean Sea and the Mediterranean coast."

"Excellent," I said, taking it from her. "I'm expecting to see General Lergen in an hour or so. Just send him in when he arrives."

She nodded to acknowledge the order and I made my way into my inner office. Once inside I used a letter opener to cut open the package before spreading the oversized maps to cover my entire desk. With that done I settled into my office chair and cupped my chin in my hand as I studied the map.

My plan to deal with our inevitable failure to make our reparation payments had three steps. First, we would contest our obligation under the hearing we were entitled to under the treaty of Triano. Second, we would seek a foreign loan of hard currency that would allow for a more reasonable payment schedule. In a fair and just world those two steps would be enough to see us through the crisis. In this world, created in the image of that hypocritical bastard Being X, further planning was needed.

The key to the third step was the personal enmity the victorious countries felt towards me. It was most obvious among the Francois, of course. Their leading newspaper had declared after the election that "THE DEVIL OF THE RHINE IS LEADING GERMANIA TO HELL" for almost a week straight. All of the other countries had their own reasons to hate me. I had killed an awful lot of their aerial mages. I'd also somehow been labeled the primary instigator for the tragedy of Arene. It was pure good fortune that had kept me out of any war crimes tribunal when the war ended. Now that I was a prominent leader all of those old stories were being dragged back into the limelight.

And that was fine. My absolute last resort in dealing with the coming reparations payment crisis was to drive the other side of the negotiation into such a rage that they would demand that I resign and go into exile. I planned to put up some token resistance before giving in. Germania would get a reprieve in its payment requirements, either as a result of distraction or as a negotiated point in exchange for my removal from power. The Francois would get the joy of sticking it to a hated enemy. And I would live out the rest of my life on a beach vacation. A true win-win scenario.

I had requested the map so that I could scout out locations for my future exile. I was a little unsure what I could expect. Napoleon got a whole island. To be fair, though, he had conquered most of Europe. I was the leader of one little country. An island might be a bit much to ask. A nice little plot of land and a living stipend seemed fair. I had a feeling that a villa on the Francois Riviera wouldn't be happening. Still, that left plenty of warm weather locations to choose from.

It didn't take me long to realize that there were an awful lot of islands in the Mediterranean Sea. As I reviewed the options, though, I could already see the future impasse in negotiations that would develop. All of the locations that I would prefer were too close to the Kingdom of Ildoa for Francois comfort. Although the Ildoans had turned their cloaks at the end of the war, they were hardly bosom friends of the Francois. Just as they had allowed an allied army through to invade the Empire, so they might allow a fugitive former Chancellor to return to Germania.

The islands that the Francois would likely prefer were a little too close to the Francois Republic for my tastes. While they should be satisfied with my humiliation and exile, there was no telling when somebody might get frisky with an aerial mage commando unit if my home were located next door. Besides, if I wanted to live a long and comfortable life then it really behooved me to get out of range before the bombs started falling in the next war.

Maybe I should insist on exile to the Unified States. Nobody ever bombs them.

Well, yes, there was that one time. As long as I stay on the mainland, though, it won't be my problem.

I was considering whether it would be worth studying a map of the Unified States when General Lergen walked into my office with Elya trailing in his wake. I greeted him and had him sit down across from me at my desk. Somewhat to my surprise, Elya lingered in the room instead of taking her leave. She was also carrying several heavy file folders. Odd, but she didn't often waste my time. I raised an eyebrow and gestured for her to speak.

"Thank you, Chancellor," she said, handing out a file folder to General Lergen and to me. "These are our files on the Communist Party of Germania."

I took a quick glance through the contents of the folder. It looked quite comprehensive. As expected of Elya.

"Why are you sharing this with us now?" I asked.

"During the campaign, you promised to track the communists down and burn them out of Germania," she said. "Only, there are a lot of them, so we will need help from the military."

Had I said that? It sounded like something I would say. In the last weeks of the campaign I made a lot of wild promises in my efforts to drive down our support.

I glanced at General Lergen. He looked quite concerned, which was only appropriate. I held up my hands in a placating gesture.

"Elya, please don't forget that the military is the defender of the Germanian people," I said. "It is not to be used against civilians. Even communists."

She set her own folder down on my desk and pulled a small pen and notebook from inside of her jacket before jotting something down. "Understood."

"In addition, not all campaign promises are to be taken literally," I said. I paused while she nodded and took another note. I couldn't just leave the explanation there or she might decide everything is fine as long as the commies are shot instead of burned to death. "The rank and file members of the communist party are not so bad, for the most part. Just hungry and angry. Once they have jobs that let them put a roof over their heads and food on their tables I expect they'll come to their senses."

I took another look through the folder to confirm some of the things I had seen earlier. "I am worried about the leaders who are taking money from the Rus Union. Please see that they are prosecuted by the appropriate authorities."

She nodded. "And the rest of the leadership?"

I waved my hand dismissively. "Their success is just a symptom of societal rot. In a healthy nation they won't survive for long."

A party with no popular support and no source of foreign funding would just dry up and blow away. There was no need for us to concern ourselves with them when we had much larger problems to worry about.

"Understood!"

She sketched a quick salute before collecting the folders she had handed out and marching out of my office. After the door swung shut behind her I gave General Lergen an apologetic look.

"Sorry about that," I said, feeling a little sheepish. "Elya can be overenthusiastic."

"Don't worry about it," he replied. "I have my share of troublesome subordinates."

"I know you would never relay illegal orders," I said. "You didn't get your position just because you look good in a uniform."

He started to say something but dissolved into a coughing fit. I shifted a bit uncomfortably in my seat as I reconsidered what I had said.

In regards to his personal life, I had long since confirmed that he was single. He was reputed to be married to his work. A prime target for a marriage of convenience, although as the pressure I had anticipated over my own marital status had never materialized I had never been motivated to do anything but keep an eye on the situation. I wonder if for a man not attracted to women my remark was offensive. No, I guess even if he were attracted to women then it would be sexual harassment from a superior. Ah, what a mess to create with a simple attempt at a reassuring compliment.

Fortunately, he seemed inclined to let the matter slide once he had his coughing under control.

"In any event, why did you summon me here today?"

"Tell me the state of the general staff's war plans," I said.

The general staff had pioneered the concept of making plans during peace time for the conduct of future wars. Over time it had become standard practice in my old world. I remembered comedians making jokes about the fact that the United States had plans on file for the invasion of Canada. The fact is, though, that nobody knows what the future will hold. When a war occurs it is a huge advantage for a nation to have a plan on file that has been developed at leisure after careful consideration instead of having to scramble to throw something together in a crisis.

"Considering the state of our military," Lergen replied, "the plans have not been kept up to date."

I nodded. This was within my expectations. When your only practical choice in the event of war is an immediate surrender there is no use in preparing any grand strategy. Unfortunately, this state of affairs was incompatible with my own future plans.

"I'd like you to prepare plans from the opposite perspective," I said.

"What do you mean?"

"Rather than making a plan to figure out how to conquer the Francois given our current military," I said, "make a plan to figure out the military we need in order to conquer the Francois in the manner of your choosing."

His eyes widened slightly at the implication. "You want a blueprint for a military build up."

I nodded.

"The size of our military is constrained by treaty," he said.

"Of course," I replied. "But who knows what the future may bring? It's only prudent to be prepared for every eventuality."

He was visibly reluctant but ultimately had to acquiesce to the logic of my position. It was after all the same logic behind the general staff's war planning policy, just adapted to our new situation. I'm sure it felt like a waste of time for him, but these reports were central to my plans.

After all, I couldn't just back down and surrender to the first ultimatum from the Francois without laying the groundwork first. I was the head of a party of war maniacs. How could I show my face if they decided I was just a cowardly blowhard all along? In that situation it would be vital to be able to tell them that the Minister of Defense had done a comprehensive study of what was needed to defeat the Francois and concluded that our military just wasn't up to the task.

I reassured General Lergen that he need not be stingy in formulating his requirements. From my perspective, the more outlandish the army needed for victory the more convincing my facade of unwilling surrender would be.

Perhaps it was disgraceful to be planning my exit strategy on my first real day on the job, but in a precarious situation I had to look out for my own safety first. It's only by dotting all of my i's and crossing all of my t's that I could stay ahead of the misfortune that Being X would no doubt be hurling down on me.