Read Online In the Presence of Mine Enemies by Harry Turtledove - Free Book Online Page B

told how well they worked.
    This one, though, gave signs of being more serious than some of its predecessors. An SS man, behind bars? That was news of the man-bites-dog sort. Heinrich wondered which German bigwigs the Frenchmen who’d been shaken down happened to know. Odds were they’d known somebody. SS men seldom got into trouble for what they did even inside Germany, let alone in occupied territory.
    When the train pulled into the station in Berlin, Heinrich and Willi naturally went the same way, for they had to catch the same bus to the same office. The story about the SS man intrigued Heinrich enough to make him wave the Völkischer Beobachter under Willi Dorsch’s nose and ask, “Did you see this?”
    â€œWhich?” Willi asked. He sounded more distant than usual, but not actively unfriendly. Heinrich pointed to the story. “Oh, that,” Willi said. “Yes, I saw it. Politics. Has to be.”
    â€œPolitics?” Heinrich said it with such surprise, he might never have heard the word before.
    Willi gave back an impatient nod. “I don’t see what else could be going on.”
    â€œI just figured somebody knew somebody,” Heinrich said. “You know what I mean.”
    â€œOh, sure.” Willi nodded again, with a little more animation this time. “It’s possible, I suppose, but how likely is it? Who could a bunch of froggies know who’s got the clout to land somebody with SS runes on his collar tabs in hot water? Pigs will fly before we see that.” He started walking faster. “Come on—there’s the bus, just waiting for us.”
    It did wait. They even found seats, which they didn’tmanage every day during the morning rush. “Politics,” Heinrich repeated. “Well, I suppose you’re right.”
    â€œYou bet I am,” Willi said as the bus pulled out of the station. He patted Heinrich on the knee. “You have any other problems you can’t see your way around, you come to your Uncle Willi, and he’ll set you right.”
    He smiled a superior smile. If Erika admired Heinrich for anything, it was his brains—it couldn’t very well have been his body or his looks, as he was ruefully aware. And if Willi felt smarter than he was, then all of a sudden he didn’t seem such a threat. He hoped that was how things were working inside his friend’s head, anyhow. He didn’t want to be a threat to anybody or anything. Threats were visible. He couldn’t afford that kind of visibility.
    And maybe Willi was right, too. To most of the Germanic Empire’s subjects, politics had to seem simple. The Germans gave orders, and the subjects obeyed. Subjects who didn’t obey paid for it, often with their lives. (Sometimes subjects who did obey paid with their lives, too, but they seldom knew that ahead of time.)
    But, seen from within the ruling bureaucracy, things weren’t so simple. Wehrmacht and SS officials warily watched one another. The Wehrmacht and civilian administrators didn’t always see eye-to-eye, either. And the administrators and the SS quarreled over who really represented the National Socialist Party. It wasn’t just a factional split, either. Personalities in each camp further complicated things. The Führer, Kurt Haldweim, was supposed to keep everyone going in the same direction, but Haldweim had celebrated his ninety-first birthday just before last Christmas. For his age, he was said—frequently and loudly said—to be vigorous and alert, but how much did that prove?
    When the bus stopped in front of Oberkommando der Wehrmacht headquarters, Willi Dorsch had to nudge Heinrich. “We get off here, you know,” he said, enjoying the tiny triumph. “No matter what great thoughts you think, they won’t do you any good if you can’t find the place where you’re supposed to use them.”
    â€œYou’re right, of course.” Heinrich