“You seem to have become very fond of jest and banter, General.”
The senior officer waves me off, insisting that he had always been that way.
“Now you’re really joking,” I say softly, my face completely serious. “But your jokes used to be intellectual, General. You remind me of a circus act at the moment. To be honest, I don’t find it very funny.”
“Well, I am playing the clown, after all.”
With the face of a cunning old man—but still an old man, one no longer bothering to hide the fatigue in his bones—General Zettour smiles.
“This is all part of the job, I suppose. You should try it for yourself.”
“I’m afraid my performance would be no match for yours.”
“Is that so?” asks Zettour, cocking his head before continuing. “Well, Lieutenant Colonel, deep down, it is better if both you and I are fools. The best thing for the Empire is a world where soldiers are closer to idle buffoons than they are to valiant heroes.”
“General?”
“You’re right, we are getting off on a tangent. The older you get, the harder it is to stay on track. Now then, as for the main reason I came here today—the truth is, I wished to express my gratitude to you.”
The general quickly bows his head.
“You did well to act arbitrarily in the moment. You did well to exceed your authority. And, of course, you did well to save the army,” says General Zettour, literally bowing as he speaks his mind. “We were on a precipice… It was a strategic surprise attack. When I first learned of it, I was certain everything was over.”
The general stares at me with sincerity in his eyes before bowing again.
“You gave us a future. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart. What a saving grace you delivered as I wandered in the valley of resignation.”
“I don’t see how you can call it grace.”
“Oh?”
“We did little more than tread water. Do you truly think the army has been saved?”
“I do. We escaped total dissolution. As a soldier of the Empire, an old man of the Reich, and as Zettour of the Heimat, I once again thank you from the bottom of my heart.”
“You honor me,” I say, saluting humbly. At the same time, considering what I have seen, I can not help but comment on the seriousness of the situation. “Dissolution, however, has only been postponed. We have only managed to hang on by a thread.”
“In this age we live in, Lieutenant Colonel, a single thread can be the decisive factor.”
Perhaps. Was it better to say we avoided collapse, or that we only postponed it? Either way, for now, the fact remains that we stand.
“We are nearly destitute, however.”
“War is awful in every way. When you’re losing, that is.”
“But not when you’re winning?”
“That is the way of people.”
“I wonder,” I say, cocking my head. “As presumptuous as this may sound, I love peace.”
“As do I, although I am surprised to hear you express such a strong preference.”
“Oh, but I am certain I have mentioned it before. Why, if there had been peace, General Rudersdorf would have been able to publish that picture book he promised me.”
The “picture book” I mention elicits an unexpected response from my superior. A look of deep emotion surfaces on the general’s face as he chews pleasantly on the unlit cigar in his mouth and fiddles with the lighter in his hand.
“A picture book. Yes, a picture book. That could be just the thing for after the war. Maybe I will try my hand at writing a picture book next.”
“General?
“I don’t think that would suit you,” I say.
In response, General Zettour turns away, seeming wounded. “What a harsh thing to say to an old man. Even the old should be allowed to dream.”
Did that pouting tone of voice truly belong to General Zettour? As I stare doubtfully, he takes a slow, savoring puff of his cigar.
“I would like to leave something of culture behind for the world. Yes, even just a picture book. What a cruel state of affairs, to be laughed at by the young and talented simply for having that thought.”
“I was thinking that your talents are needed in other fields, General…”
“All the same,” responds General Zettour, sounding slightly more cheerful now, “Whether as a clown or a vagabond, I am only a second-rate artist.”
Still, the old man smirks self-effacingly.
“If there are no first-rate candidates available in the world at the moment, then I shall be first among the second-rate. If that is what necessity requires, then there is nothing for it but for me to thoroughly play my part.
“And besides,” General Zettour continues. “You know, Colonel Degurechaff, it’s surprising. Though you and I may be the cogs in an instrument of violence, it is talk of culture that gets our blood pumping. Who would suspect that this conversation was about the fate of the Empire? Even the leisurely chatter of the salons has taken on a warlike tone these days, I suppose.”
“Hmph,” I respond with childish simplicity. “The marriage of culture and violence is where the most truly terrifying power resides.”
“Oh…? An interesting conjecture. If there were more time, I would love to see it fleshed out into a full dissertation. Unfortunately, now is likely not the time for such things. Regardless, I meant it when I said that I am grateful. Which is why I must apologize. I need to ask the impossible of you once more.”
“Of course,” I groan internally in disgust…but for a suit-and-tie like me, the ability to meet any job, however loathsome, with a positive smile and a cheerful disposition comes naturally. “Whatever you require.”
“I would like you to continue causing a ruckus.”
The general’s next words are blunt.
“The illusion of a powerful Empire must be affirmed as real for the rest of the world.”
An easily understood request. I salute in the affirmative, understanding the role that is required of me.
“Let us use military might to strike terror into the world.”
“Excellent, Colonel Degurechaff. Unfortunately, I cannot promise much in the way of honor or advancement for the time being…but I suppose you may make use of my authority and my name to a certain degree, for which I presume I can expect fitting results?”
“Your good offices are much appreciated.”
“It is the least I can do when asking for something so rash… Now then, if I could have your assistance for a time in the West.”
“The West?”
I am taken by surprise. Did he just say the West? But the main front is in the East.
“You do not want me in the East?”
“I look forward to your coming work in the West this time.”
The West. He was sending Tanya to the West, not the East. That alone was enough to fill my heart with hope.
When General Zettour finally decides to pull the pin on this murder-suicide that he is planning for the imperial household, there would be plenty of opportunities for Tanya—under his command—to tuck tail and make her escape. Defeat is inexorable, but my superior officer, General Zettour, seems fully prepared to shoulder that responsibility for himself.
I admire his sense of responsibility, which apparently extended to self-sacrifice.
His is a completely different type of sensitivity than my own, and I find it difficult to understand in many ways, but as a superior officer, he is certainly worth supporting, in the strictest sense.
General Zettour goes on, once again mentioning something unexpected.
“I’m sorry, Lieutenant Colonel. I have already asked far too much of you…but I plan to work you hard, even after the war. Much will be required of you.”
Without thinking, almost entirely on impulse, I return a salute.
“It is an honor, General! I pledge to do my best!”
What a stunning offer. The promise of hard work even after the war—a feeling of relief diffuses throughout my chest. All that time spent slaving away in the sweatshops of the Imperial Army is finally going to be compensated, almost entirely, in the form of a stellar benefits package. I now had a promise for after the war.
General Zettour is going to be the trustee, so to speak, in the Empire’s bankruptcy. A promise from such a man to work Tanya hard, even after the war, was more than enough to deliver sweet relief. I now have a job lined up for after the war. Nothing is so gratifying as knowing that your contributions have been properly seen and recognized.
Feeling a sense of pride as General Zettour returns my salute, I turn to leave with faint tears in my eyes.
To be trusted to such a degree. What could make a person prouder? But more than anything, it’s these new prospects after the end of the war that put my mind at ease. I whisper to myself softly, feeling the relief deep in the cavity of my chest, “As long as I breathe, it seems there is still hope.”
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(The Saga of Tanya the Evil, Vol. 14: Dum Spiro, Spero —part II, fin)
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