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Up at the top of the stairs, the Berlin police scrutinized identification cards before giving them to the usual guards to run through the reader. The Wehrmacht men smirked slightly as they returned the cards to Heinrich and Willi.These fellows think they're important, they might have said.They think so, but they're wrong.

Signs taped to the walls said,HEAR ROLF STOLLE IN THE ASSEMBLY HALL! Heinrich sighed. He really would rather have worked. What did he need with one more tub-thumping Nazi blowhard? But he couldn't take the chance of antagonizing the Party.If anybody wonders why one of my projects is late, I'll tell the truth, that's all.

Televisor cameras were set up in the assembly hall. Whatever Stolle said would go out locally. It might even go out all over the Reich, all over the Empire. That did not rouse Heinrich's enthusiasm. Broadcast speeches were no more exciting than any other kind.

Rolf Stolle clumped around up on stage. He was a big bald bear of a man, with a wrestler's shoulders and an actor's large, graceful hands. Resignedly, Heinrich sat down in a plushy chair. He wondered if he could fall asleep without being noticed. He closed his eyes in an experimental way. But he was awake. If he hadn't had his morning coffee…He had, though.Maybe Stolle will put me under. There was a hopeful thought.

More analysts and officers and secretaries came in, till the front rows were full and the hall nearly so. It wouldn't do for the Gauleiter to make a televised speech in front of a lot of empty seats. Stolle took his place behind the lectern. More Security Police stood behind him as bodyguards. Heinrich tried to yawn without opening his mouth. By the way Willi snickered, he might have done better.

"Good morning, gentlemen-and all you pretty ladies, too," Stolle boomed. A couple of women giggled at his leer. Heinrich's guess was that the luck he enjoyed with them came from his rank, not from his person.He certainly wouldn't have wanted that big oaf pawing him. The Gauleiter went on, "We are where we are today because of what the Wehrmacht has done for the Reich. Without our armed forces, Germany would be weak and our enemies strong. With them, we are strong, and our enemies mostly dead."

Heinrich didn't bother keeping his mouth shut when he yawned this time. How often had he heard such boastful claptrap? More often than he wanted; he knew that. Next, Stolle would talk about how wonderful the National Socialists were.

And he did: "The Wehrmacht is the gun, and the Party is the man who aims it. We chose the targets for your might, and you knocked them down one by one. Wise leadership served us well."

It was all as predictable as the Mass. With fancy uniforms and swastika flags, the Nazis tried to make such ceremonials as majestic as the Mass, too. In Heinrich's private-very private-opinion, they were just bombastic. To most Party Bonzen, the two words might have been interchangeable.

But then, though Rolf Stolle kept right on hamming it up for all he was worth, he suddenly stopped boring Heinrich, for he went on, "Wise leadership is always important. And our beloved Fuhrer is very wise in setting our affairs to rights. Some of the things we did in days gone by are no longer needed. And some of the things we did in days gone by, perhaps, we never should have done at all."

Heinrich looked at Willi. Willi was looking back at him. A low mutter of surprise ran through the hall. Whatever people had expected Stolle to say, this wasn't it.

"There are people who say, 'Let's not change this,'" he rolled on. "There are people who say, 'Let's not remember this.' There are people who say, 'Let's not remind the Volk that the Party was supposed to be democratic, that the first Fuhrer said so right from the start.' These people, some of them, have lots of decorations. These people, some of them, have lots of power. These people, most of them, have got fat and comfortable and lazy with things just the way they are. And,meine Damen und Herren, that's a pile of crap!"

The mutter of astonishment that went through the hall wasn't low this time. Rolf Stolle beamed, as if he'd set eyes on a good-looking blonde. His bald bullet head gleamed under the televisor lights. "A pile of crap I said,meine Damen und Herren, and a pile of crap I meant. the Fuhrer knows it, too, and he's trying to clean it up. But he needs help. And he needs something else, too.

"Trouble is, Heinz Buckliger is a gentleman. He wants to go slow. He wants to be polite. He doesn't want to hurt anybody's feelings, God forbid. But I am here to tell you, I don't think going slow and being polite will get the job done. I am here to tell you, when you see a pile of crap, you grab the biggest goddamn shovel you can find, you wade in, and you clean it up. No ifs, ands, or buts."



Stolle slammed his fist down on the lectern. "We have to move faster. We have to push harder. If it were up to me, I'd get rid of a lot of the lemon-faced naysayers who sit behind big desks and look important. Let 'em do something useful for a change, or else put 'em out to pasture.And let the people speak. As soon as we have real elections, you'll see what they think about folk like that. The sooner, the better. And let the chips fall where they may. They will, too.Danke schon. Auf wiedersehen."

He made as much of a production of leaving the stage as most people did of coming to it. Only a thin spattering of applause followed him. Heinrich understood that. He hardly remembered to clap himself. What he'd heard, what Rolf Stolle had said, left him stu

Beside him, Willi said, "My God."

No, Heinrich couldn't have been, and he wasn't. He said, "Some people don't like the Fuhrer because he's doing too much. I knew that. I never dreamt anybody would have the nerve to say he's not doing enough."

"Neither did I," Willi said. "Stolle's off the reservation-he has to be. And he'll beon the televisor. For all I know, that speech could have been broadcast live. What are people going to think? What's Buckliger going to think?"

"Beats me," Heinrich answered. "Maybe he's saying what Buckliger told him to."

"Fat chance! When was the last time anybody ever criticized a Fuhrer? " Willi said. "And you were the fellow who didn't want to come," he added as they got up and started back to their office. "You were the fellow who didn't want to leave his precious desk. What do you think now?"

"I think I'd have felt like an idiot if I'd stayed away," Heinrich said honestly. "A speech like that will go in the history books."If Stolle isn't taken out and shot in the next few days, anyhow. By the look on Willi's face, he was thinking the same thing.

If Rolf Stolle thought his speech would land him in trouble, he gave no sign of it. He came into the office where the budget analysts worked. He wasn't after information, the way Heinz Buckliger had been. He just wanted to see and, especially, to be seen. Heinrich watched Ilse watching the Gauleiter, and watched Willi watching Ilse watching the Gauleiter. Ilse looked charmed, or perhaps calculating. Willi looked… dyspepticwas the word that came to mind.

And Stolle noticed Ilse, too. "Hello, sweetie," he said. "What do you do around here?"

"Why, whatever these gentlemen want me to do,mein Herr, " she answered in a breathy, little-girl voice.

"Do you, now?" the Gauleiter rumbled. His eyes lit up. "Maybe you could do that kind of work for me, too. Let me have your number. We'll see what we can find out." He didn't pretend to be anything but the predator he was. Ilse gave him her extension. Willi quietly steamed. Heinrich did his best to seem very, very busy.

Rolf Stolle swept away, flanked by his bodyguards. How many other phone numbers would he collect before he went back to his own office? More than a few, unless Heinrich was altogether mistaken. He missed some of the subtle human byplay that went on around him. He didn't think he was missing anything here.Subtle was not a word in Stolle's vocabulary.