"Sit down, Jörg. This is Herr Mandor von S., Minister for Business Developnt. The two of you can talk. I'll have a cup of coffee next door."
After signaling for Jörg to greet the man properly, Seckt gave Mandor a brief nod, then turned and left the office, closing the door behind him and leaving the room to the two of them.
Mandor did not imdiately get to the point.
His brown yellow eyes studied Jörg with quiet precision, and for so reason, Jörg had the distinct feeling that he was being examined not by a minister, but by a father asuring the worth of a prospective son-in-law.
At length, Mandor rested both hands on the head of his cane and spoke.
"Young man, I have heard from Lia that you are rather insightful. Turning another country's internal political struggle into diplomatic leverage and extracting profit from it, frankly speaking, is very clever."
His gaze sharpened.
"With that face of yours, I can also understand why my daughter refused even the position of Director of the Reception Bureau and insisted on remaining your secretary in the Foreign Ministry."
He paused, then his tone cooled.
"But clever is not always reassuring. You are also very dangerous. Too conspicuous. Too sharp. Not steady enough. There are already plenty of people in Germany who see you as a thorn in their side, and if certain people abroad learned exactly what you did, then what would be waiting for you would not be disgrace, but death."
Mandor lightly tapped the floor with his cane.
"To be perfectly honest, if Lia had not spent half her ti muttering in my ear about your so-called magic, I would never have stepped into this swamp on your behalf."
He held his black tea with all the composed caution of an old fox. Years of dealing with businessn, industrial magnates, and political opportunists had polished every edge of his instincts. The monocle gleaming beneath the lamplight only made him look more like what he truly was: a nobleman who understood money too well.
Jörg, however, did not appear the least bit offended.
Instead, he leaned back slightly and answered with calm seriousness.
"You said one thing wrong, Herr Mandor. Lia is smarter than I am. She learns faster, her language talent is stronger, and she is far better suited to diplomacy than most people in the Foreign Ministry. My Russian ca from her."
A faint smile touched his lips.
"The only difference is that I see a little farther."
Then his expression turned businesslike.
"And unless I'm mistaken, you did not co here rely to appraise as a man. You ca because of the Arican investnt mission."
Mandor nodded once. Since the matter had shifted to business, he abandoned all detours.
"The economic inspection teams from Britain, Arica, France, and the others will arrive within a week. President Ebert strongly recomnded that you take the lead on the loan question."
He fixed Jörg with an unblinking stare.
"So tell . What exactly do you intend to do?"
Jörg answered without hesitation.
"It is very simple. I intend to make the inspection teams misjudge Germany's economic potential and, by doing so, induce them to raise the total volu of loans."
Mandor gave a dry, humorless chuckle.
"Simple?"
The word carried open disbelief.
"As far as I know, the chief Arican inspector is Charles Gates Dawes, and he is not coming alone. He will be accompanied by bankers who have spent half their lives buried in finance, and by representatives from firms like Morgan and Rockefeller. These are not provincial clerks who can be dazzled by a few polished phrases. They are n who write economic doctrine."
His eyes narrowed.
"And you, if we are speaking plainly, never even received a proper university education."
He tapped his cane once more.
"So tell , how exactly does a sharp witted autodidact intend to deceive the economic elite of half the Western world?"
Jörg did not flinch in the slightest.
Perhaps it was because two lives' worth of historical hindsight had settled inside him like cold steel, but in monts like this, his calm was unnervingly complete.
"I have never claid people are fools, Herr Mandor. But neither are they gods. As long as they are human, there are openings. Weaknesses. Pressure points."
He leaned forward a fraction.
"And the weakness of economists and businessn is the sa everywhere. Interest."
Mandor said nothing, so Jörg continued.
"The reason they are willing to support Germany's economy at all is because Germany remains an exceptional investnt target. We still possess one of the best industrial systems in Europe. We still possess millions of disciplined, educated, highly trainable workers. Those two things alone are enough to make international capital salivate."
His voice grew lower, steadier.
"If we build our plan around those two points, then we can deceive the world."
The disdain in Mandor's gaze receded slightly. He folded his arms and settled into the posture of a man who had decided, at least for the mont, to listen seriously.
"Go on."
"First," Jörg said, "we coordinate with the Ministry of Education and with the universities. We produce a vast number of records showing highly educated, technically trained laborers. With the cooperation of the Länder, we can inflate that number by roughly a million."
"Second, industrial capacity cannot be judged by guesswork. The inspectors will absolutely tour the industrial zones. They will inspect machine tools, steel output, production lines, transport facilities, and labor utilization. So we seize that ground before they do."
His tone sharpened.
"We bring the major industrial interests into line. We coordinate their figures. We enlarge the industrial data until it becos irresistible."
Mandor listened in silence, then pointed out the flaw with the precision of a practiced statesman.
"Even if the Ministry of Education cooperates, where exactly do you propose to get the identities for this miracle army of educated workers? You cannot conjure a million living Germans out of thin air. If the inspection teams probe too deeply, make a few inquiries, place a few calls, the illusion collapses."
Jörg was ready for that.
"That part is simpler than it sounds. The Reichswehr lacks many things, but manpower records are not among them. We have information on nearly a million retired soldiers. Those n will beco the threads from which we weave the fabric."
He spread one hand.
"And if the inspection teams discover discrepancies, we explain them easily. Returning veterans. n resuming their studies after service. n retraining under state guidance. In a country rebuilding after collapse, such explanations are not only believable, they are expected."
Mandor's brows knit together in thought.
"Very well. Then let us assu that part holds. How do you intend to persuade Germany's industrial capital to cooperate with a fraud of this scale?"
"By appealing to the only thing capital truly respects."
Jörg did not even need to think.
"Profit."
He reached for the teapot and poured himself more black tea.
"If the total volu of loans increases, then the industrial concerns receive more capital, more contracts, more state backed opportunity, more room for expansion. Do you think Krupp, Stinnes, or any of the others will refuse to fatten themselves at Arican expense?"
Mandor stared at him for several seconds.
"No," he admitted at last. "They will not. A businessman never turns away fresh at, especially when it drips blood. And when the invitation is wrapped in governnt favor, he turns away even less."
Then he asked the question that mattered more than any other.
"But let us suppose you succeed. Let us suppose the Aricans lend generously. How, exactly, do you intend for Germany to repay a debt of that size?"
At that, Jörg's smile widened just a little.
He lifted the tea, wet his throat, then answered with chilling ease.
"Herr Mandor, you know as well as I do that money is, in the end, rely paper. Dollars, pounds, Papiermark, it is all paper. If Germany climbs out of the abyss, if our industrial engine turns again, if our military foundation is rebuilt, then what is paper compared to power?"
His gaze locked onto the older man's.
"And if, by the ti repaynt becos pressing, the world itself has changed, then who will still be counting the paper?"
Mandor finished the last of his tea in one swallow.
For the first ti since the conversation began, he did not look at Jörg with cold appraisal, but with sothing more complicated.
"Young man," he said slowly, "I believe I described you incorrectly."
He set the cup down.
"You are not rely dangerous. You are extrely dangerous, to Germany and to the world alike."
His monocle flashed in the light.
"But you are also genuinely gifted. To think with such boldness at your age, to look that far ahead and speak of debt as though it were already a corpse... yes, I can understand now why Field Marshal Hindenburg values you."
Silence lingered in the room for a breath.
Then Mandor made his decision.
"I approve of the idea."
Jörg did not move.
"However," Mandor continued, "the industrialists are your problem. Not mine. There are fewer than seven days left. In two days, I will host a dinner. The major industrial interests of Germany will be there. Whether this sche lives or dies will depend entirely on your own ability."
Jörg inclined his head.
"That is enough."
Mandor rose slowly, leaning on his cane.
"Then prepare yourself, Jörg."
His expression turned unreadable again.
"Because if you fail there, the Aricans will be the least of your concerns."
.....
[If you don't want to wait for the next update, read 10–50 chapters ahead on P@treon.]
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