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As I slipped into bed I felt as though a weight had dropped off my shoulders. I'd never intended to become Chancellor in the first place. I never seriously thought I would serve out a full term. Despite that, the grind of day to day life had started to shift my perspective. Living and working in the Chancellor's residence. Meeting big shots every day. Telling those big shots what to do. Planning military contingencies. Even trying and failing to get some reasonable regulation of the stock market through the legislature. Bit by bit, it had started to feel like a real job.

Now, all of that was over. The die was cast. The Francois would never be willing to leave me in power after I'd destroyed their expeditionary corps. They wouldn't be confident of their ability to enforce their will, so they'd complain to their allies until they all agreed that I had to go. Their earlier promise of neutrality might be embarrassing, but it would hardly stop the Allied Kingdom from engaging in strong arm diplomacy.

I wasn't in any physical danger. The one area where politicians observed the Golden Rule was in the treatment of disgraced former politicians. After all, they never knew when they could be the next one brought low by scandal or war. No, it would be a nice cushy exile for me. Even better, the more diplomatic effort the Francois put into convincing their allies to abandon their principles and drive me out, the less diplomatic effort they'd have available to get international help collecting the reparations. It was a win-win.

All I had to do was get through the next couple of weeks. One last push, and it would all be over.

I slept like a baby.

Getting up the next morning wasn't pleasant. I'd kept going on shorter sleep during the war, of course, but the danger and adrenaline rush of combat had helped with that. On the other hand, I had access to much better coffee now. On balance, I thought I did a reasonable job of feigning alertness as I listened to the budget presentation.

The news itself was better than I expected. The nation's economy was continuing to recover. Although the people were upset at the ongoing occupation, everybody living outside of the affected area was continuing to show up for work as usual. In a way it was impressive how the previous government's fiscal policies had proven so much more ruinous than an invading army. Of course, as my finance minister emphasized several times, true prosperity would remain beyond our grasp unless we could evict the foreign army from our borders and avoid future reparations payments.

Well, I'd do my best. I wondered if future generations would be grateful for the helping hand I would be giving the economy by stepping down from power gracefully. Rather than relying on a fragile thing like human gratitude, it was probably better to exert myself to secure a luxurious exile. I'd like to live near a beach, at least.

I pulled myself from my daydreams as the meeting drew to a close and nudged Visha awake. She'd gotten in at an hour that would better be described as early morning than late evening. From what she had told me, a surprisingly high number of the Francois soldiers had simply elected to surrender in place. Sensible, when the alternative was to flee into a hostile countryside in the dead of night with nothing but the clothes on your back and rifle in your hand. It was welcome news, of course, but Visha had felt obligated to stand guard until the central army could arrive and take them into custody.

Visha had left Weiss behind to coordinate aerial assistance in tracking down fleeing soldiers while she returned to do her duty as Deputy Chancellor. While she never had shown much interest in budget discussions, she at least perked up a bit as we headed outside to walk to our next destination.

The Kyffhäuser League, Germania's premier veterans' organization, was officially politically neutral. That said, they didn't mind providing a venue for public figures, and I'd always found friendly audiences inside. For this outing there was no campaign on, but it never hurt to rally the citizenry. More than that, of course, I needed a good reason to appear in public early in the morning.

As an added bonus, we only had to go a little out of our way to walk down Embassy Row on the way to the meeting hall. Our police escort kept a low profile, so the members of the general public that we passed were free to come up and express their opinions. We didn't get mobbed or anything. The Germanian people were a little more reserved than that, and there weren't many of them around so early in the morning. Still, it was another chance to be seen.

I was pleasantly surprised at how unanimously everyone expressed their support. It seemed the public was still choosing to blame the Francois for their actions and hadn't yet turned on me for failing to stop them. I almost felt sorry for the fleeing Francois soldiers that tried their luck in the Germanian countryside. I doubted any of them that made it into a small town would be lucky enough to be taken into custody by the national authorities.

Really, though, it was hard to feel too bad for them. When you cross the border to invade your neighbor, you don't always get to leave the way you'd want.

The meeting hall, once we finally arrived, was packed. I would have thought that most veterans would embrace every opportunity to sleep in once they were out of the army, but I guess old habits die hard.

It felt a little funny to look around the room and realize that it might be my last time speaking in front of a big crowd. It might even be the last time I saw a big group of my fellow veterans. Not that I'd actually served with any of these men, of course. Still, there was something... I did my best not to let the irrational feeling affect my speech.

The speech, in all honesty, was nothing special. A brief mention of the success of the new currency. Praise for the mild economic boom sweeping the country. And, of course, a thundering denunciation of the Francois, complete with the prediction of vague but dire consequences should they continue with their chosen course of action. Standard stuff.

The cheer when I finished was loud enough to wake up anybody in the neighborhood who was trying to sleep in. I couldn't help but smile. Soldiers were such easy touches, in or out of uniform.

After finishing the speech, I stuck around for a while to shake hands and mingle. There was no real reason to work the crowd when I would be out of office so soon, but it was an ingrained habit after years of campaigning. By the time we left I'd dispelled the last of the odd melancholy that had gripped me up on the stage.

The die was cast. There was no more point dwelling on the pros and cons of a decision that had already been made. No, more than that, now that the decision had been made, I should focus on the positive aspects. On the burdens I was about to leave behind. I had quite the list of those to ruminate over as I walked home.

I was feeling downright cheerful by the time I made it back to my office. I couldn't help but think of my first job stocking shelves at a grocery store. I'd never particularly enjoyed the menial labor, but the two weeks after I'd given notice that I was quitting had been great fun. There's something about knowing that all the hassles of your job will soon be somebody else's problem that just brightens your whole outlook.

As I looked around I could see little reminders of all the daily annoyances I had gradually grown used to. Soon they would just be memories and someday they might even serve as fuel for misguided nostalgia.

I was almost free.

Of course, I did have some sense of responsibility. I didn't intend to skip out on Germania and leave my successor in the lurch. There were a few things I needed to set in motion to help the country stay on the right track. First up was my morning meeting with General Lergen and Dr. Schugel.

Both men were waiting for me in my conference room when I arrived. Dr. Schugel was fussing over a rosary while General Lergen was lost in thought. I set the folder holding my notes down on the table with a bit more force than necessary as I sat down. Once I was sure I had their attention, I started the meeting.

"What I'm about to tell you is one of the country's most closely held secrets," I said. "It was a fortuitous discovery, really. A side effect of structuring military spells to work on civilian orbs."

I explained the whole process that had led to the accidental discovery of what I described, for lack of a better word, as stealth casting. I could see General Lergen starting to tune me out a bit as I went into the technical details, only to snap back to attention as he understood the import of what I was saying. For his part, Dr. Schugel started frantically sketching out mathematical equations about halfway through. From what I could see, he was working through the calculations underlying the strength enhancement spell.

"Undetectable magic," General Lergen said. "Is it really possible?"

"The math works," Dr. Schugel replied. "Once the unnecessary dross is cut away, what's left behind is an elegant spell structure that radiates very little mana."

Of course Schugel would think of safety precautions as a wasted effort. The man was an arrogant believer in theory over practice even before Being X dropped by to give him an even more inflated sense of his own importance. Unfortunately, he was also the country's top expert in the design of cutting edge computation orbs.

"Undetectable is a strong word," I said. "It's more accurate to say that such casting can't be detected with current technology. Once other nations catch on to this idea I expect a new arms race to begin. I intend to get a head start."

"Dr. Schugel," I continued, "I hope you've enjoyed your vacation. Your country needs you back in the lab."

It was time to get the nation's aerial mage efforts under national control. It was a little silly to have so much war fighting potential tied up in the budget of a political party. I hoped that the country would soon have international permission for such a thing, but in the meantime it would have to start out as a secret project. My successor would ultimately have to decide what to do about it. For now General Lergen could provide adult oversight.

"Very well," Dr. Schugel replied. He seemed to be drawing himself up for some kind of pompous announcement. I spoke up before he could get going.

"Elya will help organize your project team," I said. "You will have three objectives. First, to develop the successor to the Type 97. Second, to develop a proper military orb that is capable of stealth casting. Finally, to develop an improved magical sensor. Are you up for the challenge?"

"With God by my side, what is there to worry about?"

"Right," I said. I could feel my eyebrow twitching, but otherwise I managed to control my reaction.

I took some solace in imagining the good doctor's reaction when he discovered that Weiss would be directly supervising his work. If the aerial mage corps was ever going to be established as a separate institution, it would start with an aerial mage-run bureaucracy. It was unfortunate that the legal environment meant that such a thing could only happen in an off-the-books secret project, but every journey had to start somewhere. Even if I wouldn't be around to see it through, I was happy that I was able to get the ball rolling.

Putting Weiss in charge would also have the helpful practical effect of reining in Dr. Schugel's tendency to push his test pilots to the point of destruction.

In any event, Dr. Schugel was all smiles as I escorted him out of the room. Afterwards, I returned the the desk and withdrew a map of the western half of the country from my folder. I centered it on the table so that General Lergen could use it for reference.

"The first test of stealth casting in combat occurred last night. Fifty-one friendly aerial mages were able to infiltrate deep into the enemy camp under the cover of darkness," I said. "As a result, the mages attached to the 32nd expeditionary corps have been killed, its heavy equipment destroyed, and the men put to flight."

"What?"

His surprise looked genuine. It still surprised me, sometimes, how slowly news traveled before the advent of the internet and cell phone videos.

"The central army group has taken most of them into custody, and is tracking down the remainder," I continued. "I apologize for ordering the army around directly, but time was of the essence."

I also thought it was best to keep his hands clean, just in case.

"What happens now?"

"I expect to meet the Francois at the bargaining table soon. They can hardly continue to ignore us now," I replied. "As for you, the most important thing is to disband any units that are forbidden to us under the Treaty of Triano."

"We don't-" he said, before pausing to massage the bridge of his nose. "I don't understand. You destroyed the Francois army and you want do reduce the size of our own?"

He seemed upset. I could understand. His every instinct as a military officer must be screaming at him to exploit this opening and press on into Francois territory with every available unit. To instead throw away the fruits of years of his hard work and weaken the army under his command must be a painful thought. Unfortunately, it had to be done. It was exactly that aggressive instinct that had led the Empire into a disastrous ever-widening war, after all.

"Well, if we negotiate an end to the restrictions of the treaty of Triano," I said, "it would be a bit suspicious if a whole modern army reported for duty the next day."

"What if the Francois invade?"

Considering their repeated unprovoked invasions of our territory, it was certainly possible that the Francois might agree to some kind of treaty and then invade after I'd gone into exile. I considered it unlikely, given the attitude of the international community, but it would have been irresponsible not to come up with a contingency plan.

"We should have some warning. It'll take them some time to make good the losses of aerial mages, at least," I said. "Anyways, in the event of invasion, your duty will be to surrender immediately."

"How unexpected," he said. He looked like he'd been caught wrong footed and didn't quite know what to think. Most likely he was feeling conflicted between relief at avoiding an impossible fight and anger at being denied the chance to defend his fatherland.

"The aerial mages I've trained will fade away into the civilian population," I said. "Then, if the Francois attempt to occupy the country or impose onerous terms, they can strike from the shadows."

"You intend to rely on terrorist threats?"

I could completely understand his disgust. For a nation to deliberately rely on a terrorist campaign to drive out a foreign army was essentially a direct admission that its own army wasn't up to the job.

"Aerial mages are of course illegal for the government to employ," I said. "Only a group free of government supervision would dare to engage in a campaign of targeted assassination."

Of course, my role in all of that would be limited to reading about the mess in the newspapers. I almost felt bad for the Francois, thinking about what Elya might get up to without anybody to rein her in. Well, I'd have to remember to drink a glass of wine in sympathy.

"I strongly disapprove of this course of action."

General Lergen really was a perfect fit for Operation Werewolf. This was why I had kept him out of Operation Disarm and Disperse. His love for the pure and honest display of military superiority was carved on his bones. His sheer disdain for underhanded tactics was undeniable. He was the perfect man to stand up in front of the Francois to deny any involvement with such despicable attacks... while acknowledging that the attacks were motivated by legitimate grievances, of course. The future of the country was in good hands.

"Of course, if you have a better way to keep the Francois out of the country, I'm open to suggestion," I said.

Unfortunately, the inability of our military to protect the border was a simple and undeniable fact. Until that could be remedied, the only choice was to resort to alternate methods. I gave that a moment to sink in before I continued.

"Anyways, all that should be headed off at the bargaining table," I said. "In the meantime, though, I do have a project for you."

This one was, admittedly, more of a personal project. Still, the country should benefit. It's ok to be selfish sometimes anyway, right?

"Oh?"

"After reviewing the data from the last war, it seems almost all of the fighting on the ground took place inside of 300 meters. Issuing everybody rifles that can shoot out to a kilometer is a waste," I said. "Even worse, the long rifles are a hindrance in close quarter battles. On the other hand, the submachine guns that are ideal for close in trench battles are ineffective outside of the confines of the trench."

"What do you propose?" he asked. He still seemed a bit unsettled, but less so now that the conversation was moving away from touchy issues like the current state of our military.

"If we cut down the power of the standard rifle round, it would reduce recoil. That would make automatic fire practical, if inaccurate," I said. "A rifle fitted with a selector switch could provide accurate semi-automatic fire out to 300 meters, then be used as a machine gun close in."

Back in my old world, the iconic all-purpose rifle was of course the AK-47. A communist invention, it cornered the market of revolutionary gear by virtue of being cheap, reliable, and good enough to get the job done. I remembered reading an article shortly before my death that claimed that the AK-47 and its variants had claimed the record as the weapon design that had killed the most human beings, finally taking the place of the Roman gladius that had been the previous champion.

It was silly to put too much stock in that kind of pop history, of course. Still, it had always galled me that communists could claim such an excellent weapon design as one of their accomplishments. I intended to use my position along with the advantages of time travel to induce the development of the same design by a decent capitalist nation. Perhaps I had an unfair advantage, but I'd never been particularly worried about treating commies fairly.

"I'm not sure about switching the men over to a less powerful rifle," General Lergen said. There was no doubt that he understood the mindset of his troops. No soldier would be happy to be told his rifle was being changed out for something weaker. Of course, that kind of objection could be finessed through proper marketing techniques. The important fact to establish was that more powerful rifles didn't necessarily make for a more powerful infantry unit.

"Within each company we can issue a long range rifle to a few snipers," I said. "but the majority of the men should be given a tool suited to the task we actually ask them to perform."

"You're set on this?"

"I insist that we at least develop an assault rifle and test its usefulness," I said.

Fortunately for my plan, the Imperial attitude of strict meritocracy was alive and well in the Republic of Germania. Once the army had a chance to test the proposed weapon, former Chancellor's pet project or not, they'd give it a fair shake.

"Assault rifle? At least the name is catchy," he said.

Whoops. It had been a while since I'd used anachronistic jargon like that. Well, I guess that comes with the territory when you're trying to get people to build a rifle from the future. It shouldn't be a big deal.

"Remember, an effective range of no more than 300 meters, and a useful automatic fire mode," I said. "Also, in comparing designs, put an emphasis on reliability."

"We always do," he replied, looking a little offended.

"An extreme emphasis. Toss it in a pond the night before the test. Use the magazine to hammer in nails. Soak it in mud and blood," I said. "The Mondragón issued to aerial mages is a wonderful weapon, but I was barely able to keep it functioning while I was stationed on the front lines. And I could use magic. A rifle is no good to anybody if it won't shoot."

Legendary reliability had been a major selling point for the AK-47. To steal its thunder, our version would have to match up. While Dr. Schugel was an extreme example, his behavior was well within the Germanian engineering tradition that put more emphasis on cutting edge technology and bells and whistles than things like durability and reliability. The General Staff knew as well as I did what kind of conditions existed at the front, though. A little emphasis now should be enough to remind them to keep the engineers focused on the important things.

"Very well," he said.

I smiled. It felt good to get one over on the communists on my way out the door, even if they'd never realize it. Now all I had to do was play my part on the international stage before I could retire for some well deserved rest and relaxation.

ooOoo

News really did travel slowly these days. I waited all day for a foreign ambassador to confront me over the missing Francois army corps, but it never happened. I had instructed Weiss to try to prevent the Francois soldiers from crossing the border in order to keep word from getting out, but I hadn't expected him to be so successful. I thought some would at least make it to Lothiern. Maybe I'd underestimated how hard it was to cover fifty kilometers in the dark on foot.

Finally, in the evening, I gave a speech on the radio announcing the glorious uprising by the Germanian people that had sent the foreign invaders fleeing for their lives. Even then, the expected diplomatic communication failed to materialize. Perhaps they thought I was bluffing, or that I was trying to talk up a revolution that hadn't yet happened. Honestly, I couldn't be bothered to try and figure out what they were thinking. I had to catch up on my beauty rest.

I was woken up the next morning by a knock on the bedroom door. I took a moment to rub the sleep out of my eyes before I responded.

"Yes?"

"Madame Chancellor," the voice belonged to one of the messenger boys attached to the Chancellor's Residence, though his name escaped me for the moment, "the Americans and the Allied Kingdom ambassador want to see you at your earliest convenience."

Back in the army, that meant you went running to see your superior officer as soon as possible. I wasn't in the army any longer, though, and they certainly weren't my superior officers. I ran my fingers through my hair to get some of the tangles out and glanced at the clock. Seven in the morning. If they'd waited this long to seek me out, they could wait a little longer.

"Take them to wait outside my office," I instructed. "I'll be there at eight."

"Yes ma'am."

I indulged myself in an extended stretch and yawn, followed by a chuckle. Petty power games were a lot more fun when you had the upper hand, however temporary. It was probably just as well that I'd be out of office before I could let that kind of thing go to my head.

After a long shower and a hearty breakfast, I was waiting in my office when the two ambassadors were escorted in at eight o'clock on the dot. The two men engaged in a brief staring contest before Mr. Johnston backed down and let Mr. Lloyd have the first word.

"It's been a rather tumultuous night," Mr. Lloyd said. His tone was one I imagined he usually reserved for ordering a maid whipped after she'd chipped the fine china.

"I suppose," I said, content to let the two of them take the lead for now.

"We both got the Francois talking our ears off," Mr. Johnston complained. "They're saying all sorts of crazy things."

I could imagine. Even I didn't know as much as I would like about the current state of the affairs, having only received Visha's report and a brief telegram from General Ziegler. And that was in territory held by my men after a military operation that I had personally planned and led. The Francois were stuck building speculation on top of speculation before panicking at the results. They must be getting in the ear of any ally who would listen.

Of course, while I could understand Mr. Johnston's situation in the abstract, that didn't mean that I felt any sympathy for him in particular.

"I hope you shared with them that lovely saying," I said, "about the bull and the horns."

He had the grace to look a bit embarrassed, at least. Really, if you're going to puff yourself up as a tough guy talking about realpolitik in a tough world, don't turn around and come looking to me for a sympathetic ear.

After a moment, Mr. Lloyd picked up the thread of the conversation.

"What happened at Duisbusch, Chancellor?"

Obviously, I couldn't tell the truth. I also didn't want to commit to any specific lie.

"Is it so hard to figure out? An occupying force that behaves so atrociously naturally inspires rebellion," I said, shrugging.

From a certain point of view, what I was saying was even the truth. Not that my conversation partners would appreciate that kind of hair-splitting. Far more important was that it was at least somewhat plausible. Less so when they discovered that every aerial mage attached to the Francois corps was dead, but that wouldn't be confirmed for a while. Even then, it was more likely they'd been killed in their sleep by angry citizens rather than the current Germanian army somehow having cornered them without allowing any to escape.

The bottom line was that it was fine if they suspected I was lying. I didn't need their trust, not about that. I just needed to avoid being branded something like a "proven criminal" in a way that would rip away the halo of a former national leader and replace my vacation in exile with a jail cell.

"The Francois are blaming you," Mr. Lloyd began, before I cut him off.

"The Francois blamed the Empire for fighting back after their last invasion," I said, slapping the table in emphasis. "The only way I could make Mr. Mirande happy is if I were to go to the Ruhr and hold down the girls myself so his soldiers can have their fun."

That brought a touch of shock to the face of the normally imperturbable Mr. Lloyd. In turn, I couldn't help feeling annoyed. I may have looked delicate, but I was after all in the army for eight years. I was no stranger to coarse language. I did my best to channel my annoyance to a productive purpose.

"You were so studiously neutral while the Francois ran wild," I said, tapping my finger to my chin. "Now that the victims have fought back I sense a certain partiality."

Obviously, the Allied Kingdom's statement of neutrality hadn't been an iron-clad commitment. Just as obviously, they could complain that I hadn't been acting in good faith if I'd somehow built up the ability to sweep the Francois from the country so easily. Even so, it would be embarrassing to have to go back on their word so soon after they'd given it. They would, of course, in a heartbeat, if it was in their interests. But they wouldn't be happy about it, and they certainly wouldn't be backing the Francois to the hilt in the ensuing negotiations.

"We don't want to see the war start up all over again," Mr. Lloyd said, showing admirable aplomb. It took a professional diplomat to continue to pretend to be an honest broker in this kind of situation.

"Neither do I! I've been trying to end things peacefully for months," I complained. "Bring the Francois to the table so we all can discuss the situation like adults and we can have peace in our time!"

This was another form of battlefield preparation.

The Francois should naturally want the upcoming discussion to be as narrow as possible. They should want to focus on their claim that I had violated the Treaty of Triano, which I had. They should want to focus on their claim that I had attacked their soldiers, which I had. Other than those two things, the only thing they should want to talk about is what they're entitled to under the treaty. From their point of view, the ideal situation would be to dictate terms to us based on their own military strength. As that was no longer practical, they would like to sit at the negotiating table and borrow the military power of their allies to browbeat us into compliance.

Of course, the Allied Kingdom and the Unified States didn't pay and equip their armies just for the benefit of the Francois. If their names were going to be thrown around, they'd want to have a say in how everything was decided.

That suited me just fine. I wanted the discussion to be wide open. I wanted to talk about justice, and natural rights, and the future of Europe. I also wanted as many countries involved as possible, all worried about their own interests. Ideally, the complaints of the Francois would get lost in the shuffle. Of course, such an ideal scenario was unlikely to come about. Still, the more interests wound up being pursued the less likely it was that the Francois would end up having things all their own way.

Since the three of us all wanted the same thing, it only took another hour or so before we were able to come to an agreement. In one week, the representatives of the Allied Kingdom, Unified States, Francois Republic, the Legadonia Entente, and the Republic of Germania would gather together for the first time since the end of the Great War. My international swan song was officially scheduled to take place at the second conference of Londinium.