Christopher Nuttall - The Long Hard Road

“Third, you will democratise. Your governments will become democratic along the simple lines we have set out for you, with clear demarcations of power, limited taxing and conscription powers, and very little control over the economy, with the exceptions of the International Trade Protocols. We believe that this will ensure stability for Europe and Russia as a whole.

“Fourth, you will assist in the rebuilding of the nations devastated by your war. Fully twenty percent of your GNP for the twenty-year period of occupation will be set aside to aid in the rebuilding. These funds will go into the Allied Reconstruction Fund, which will be used to rebuild Poland, Norway, Sweden, the Netherlands and any other country that was devastated by the fighting.

“Fifth, you will be denied commercial access to space, using your own equipment, for a period of not less than twenty years, and you will permanently renounce military use of space. You will not be permitted to build nuclear reactors, but in the interests of repairing your power grids we will be happy to provide you with safe reactors. Any attempt to build a nuclear reactor, production plant or anything along those lines will be considered a treaty violation and it will draw a united response from the ODS.

“Sixth, most of the treaty provisions will have expired in twenty years. At that point, you will be permitted to join the Organisation of Democratic States – provided that you have in fact embraced democracy – and you will be welcomed back into the family of nations.

“Finally, although we understand that the causes of the war were multifaceted, you will acknowledge your roles in starting the war and carrying out atrocities against helpless civilians. All of the records of the civil service, and the armed forces, are to be made available to a war crimes division, which will have complete powers to investigate and punish crimes. Further, all of your nuclear, chemical and biological research is to be handed over to the commission. Finally, it will be an offence, now or ever, for any of you to claim that your atrocities – of which there is a full visual record – never happened, or were anything other than the crimes against humanity which they were.”

McLachlan sat down, breathing heavily. Rommel smiled dryly; saying so much had clearly winded him. Nothing in the treaty was unexpected – they’d known what was coming – and some of the Spanish delegates were crying. The French looked… sullen. The Poles, who had wanted Germany reduced to ruins, didn’t look happy at all.

Erwin Rommel was the first to walk to the table and sign.

“Well, that’s all folks,” Truman said, as the final French delegate signed. Hanover snorted. “The war is over and the world is ours.”

Hanover laughed briefly. “Speak for yourself,” he said. The two leaders were seating in their own room, it having been considered unnecessarily provocative to have them in the room while the terms of the treaty were read out. Truman smiled dryly; agonising the Axis powers wasn’t high on his list of concerns.

“You have the Commonwealth meeting next week,” he said. “Do you think that everyone will agree to the Commonwealth Protocols?”

“It’s the same as in there,” Hanover said, waving a hand at the television screen, where the meeting was breaking up. “The aides and mandarins handle most of the negotiations, then their principles smile for the cameras and act surprised.” He shrugged. “It makes sense, I suppose; if under-under-under secretary Fred at the Department of State calls the vice assistant undersecretary at the Foreign Minister Seagoon a bastard, its nothing serious. If one world leader calls another a bastard, it means war, or at least an embarrassing incident that needs to be hushed up.”

He chuckled. “The Indians will insist on some minor modifications, and the South Africans will demand their right to only enfranchise Africans who have adopted European ways and the Australians will demand the right to set immigration policy…”

“Most of the Jews are going to the Commonwealth,” Truman said suddenly. “Do you think that that will cause you problems?”

Hanover shook his head. “Between South Africa and Australia, there is enough room for them, and many of them worked in German manufacturing plants. Palestine can’t take many Jews, even with the rebuilding effort being undertaken there.” He grinned. “One of my better ideas, I think.”

Truman shook his head in awe. “We might be doing the same in Mexico and the Caribbean,” he said. “We have to bring democracy to the region – quickly.”

Hanover nodded. Both men knew that that would be far easier said than done; distrust of America ran through the region, even though Cuba was proving a success once the dictator had been removed in 1940. It would take time, perhaps a decade, but it could be done. Oddly, there was considerable business support for such an effort, including the Bracken Consortium.

“Oliver is one of your agents, isn’t he?” Truman asked. Hanover lifted an eyebrow. “He provided us with information your Parliament had forbidden you from giving to us.”

Hanover nodded. “He’s served his purpose,” he said. “He’s on his own now.”

Truman snorted. “Why?” He asked. “Why go against the wishes of your own Parliament?”

“You needed atomic weapons,” Hanover said. “There had to be parity between us, so that our alliance could continue.”

“Thank you, then,” Truman said. “Just you wait until we colonise Mars.”

Hanover nodded. The secret protocol in the Space Treaty had given Mars to America – unless some bug-eyed monsters lived there to dispute American control. It didn’t matter; the asteroids were more important to the Ministry of Space.

“I hope that you’ll do well in space,” Hanover said seriously. “We have to do it properly this time, just to ensure that we don’t get caught by any unexpected surprises this time.”

“And to ensure that our alliance remains the global superpower,” Truman said. The two men studied each other with mutual respect, if not complete trust. “That’s the real point, of course.”

Hanover nodded. “We have to remain supreme,” he said. “All of the alternatives to democracy are worse.”

Kristy Stewart circulated the small buffet after the treaty had been signed, observing the reactions of the various powers involved. The Germans – and, as far as she could tell, Molotov – seemed relived; they’d expected much worse. The French seemed genuinely annoyed; the Italians and the Spanish merely… tired.

“We need to talk,” Baron Edmund said sharply. She blinked up at him; the BBC producer had been invited as well, along with a handful of other dignitaries that might have had some business with the politicians. Kristy followed him into a private room. “You’ve been quite hard to talk to for the last few weeks,” Edmund snapped. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Once, Stewart would have cringed back. Facing the Nazis had hardened her. “I am reporting,” she snapped back. “What do you think I’m doing?”

“You’re on suspension,” Edmund snapped. “You know; the woman who fucked the entire German army…”

“He died heroically, remember?” Stewart snapped. Outrage burned though her. “And when was I fucking suspended?”

“A month ago,” Edmund snapped. He glared at her. “Your… sexual pleasures have brought the BBC into disrepute!”

Stewart’s rage congealed into an angry cold ball in her chest. “You have been using my material, even after I was suspended,” she said. “If, of course, I was suspended.”

Edmund glared at her, not smart enough or too angry to recognise the face-saving way out she’d offered him. “You were suspended,” he said coldly…