Chapter 67: Wind Rises in Berlin
The electric lights were extinguished all at once, and the doors were thrown open.
The dazzling winter sun poured in from outside, its brilliance falling directly onto the center of the podium and lending the ceremony a strange kind of sanctity. Reporters filed in behind the attendants and clustered by the entrance, their cameras raised high.
The burst of flashbulbs became the prelude to applause.
After nodding to the crowd, Haakon VII stroked his curled beard, stepped to the front of the stage, and unfolded the manuscript in his hand.
"It is my honor today to present a distinction worthy of remembrance by history.
"To be frank, this year might well have become another unawarded year, just as last year was. But Germany's actions greatly surprised both me and the judging committee.
"I have always disliked unawarded years. More precisely, no one in the world truly likes them, because the Peace Prize is not merely an award. It is also a reflection of the condition of the world.
"The last long stretch of years without such an award gave us war, and tens of millions suffered beneath its shadow."
When he spoke of war, the Norwegian king's voice rose, firm and resonant.
"Children died beneath gunfire, medals earned by sons were soaked in the tears of mothers, and whole generations were buried under ambition and hatred.
"War is a flower of evil, watered by human blood.
"But fortunately, there are still those willing to wipe the blood from its petals, to make them white once more, to prevent Germany's economic crisis from deepening further, and to allow peace to endure."
He raised a hand.
"Let us welcome Mr. Charles G. Dawes."
After smoothing the wrinkles from his suit, Dawes deliberately paused before the cameras for a few extra seconds before stepping onto the stage and accepting the pure gold Nobel Peace Prize medal.
"Thank you for your heartfelt words, Your Majesty."
After bowing politely to Haakon VII, Dawes stood straight as a spear and raised the medal high above his head.
The flashbulbs illuminated the back of the medal, where three figures stood arm in arm, a symbol of peace through fraternity.
"It is a great honor to receive the Nobel Prize.
"This is not my honor alone, but the honor of the entire United States.
"It proves that the United States possesses the ability to become a leader in global politics, and a leader in global peace.
"We are no longer the isolated Mayflower of North America, cut off from the wider world."
Unlike Haakon VII's broad and solemn theme, Dawes's speech praised America at every turn, and within that praise lay a subtle challenge to Britain's traditional international influence.
It had to be admitted that the secretary who helped draft his speech was highly capable. History and reality had been woven together neatly, with almost no visible seam.
Thinking of that, Jörg turned his eyes toward Austen Chamberlain.
Sure enough, just as he expected, although Austen still wore a faint smile and even joined in the applause, the meaning in his eyes had changed. It was no longer simple courtesy. It carried a quiet sharpness.
Bathing in the thrill of cameras and attention, Dawes continued speaking.
"Of course, this would also have been impossible without the support of major financial groups such as Morgan and Rockefeller. Their commitment helped propel the thawing of Germany's economy.
"And the same is true of the assessment teams from Britain and France. Their contributions were equally significant."
He mentioned Britain and France only briefly before turning to the real point.
"Yet all of these were only cogs within the machine. The true engine behind success was our Mr. Jörg!"
As he spoke, Dawes looked directly at Jörg, signaling for him to rise.
Jörg did not stand immediately. Instead, he turned and asked Mandor's opinion with a glance first.
Only after Mandor gave an almost imperceptible nod did he rise from his seat.
Blue eyes. Golden hair. A black wool coat tailored so precisely it seemed to belong to some other age.
As he stepped forward beneath the pale winter sunlight spilling through the great doors, he looked less like a politician and more like something out of myth, an angel descending from the heavens, or perhaps a high elf straying into the human world from some ancient legend.
The reporters saw it too.
Without needing to consult one another, many of them had already added the word angel to their mental descriptions of him.
What they did not know was that Jörg was no angel.
He was the one watering the flower of evil.
On stage, Jörg did not begin the lengthy speech everyone expected. He did not try to seize Dawes's spotlight, nor did he indulge the press with some grand performance.
Instead, he simply asked an attendant for a glass of champagne.
Then he raised it and said in a clear, steady voice:
"May there be peace in the world."
The crisp sound of crystal touching crystal rang out.
Almost at once, everyone in the hall stood and lifted their own glasses.
"May there be peace in the world!"
Jörg took a small sip of champagne just as the snowfall beyond the open doors ceased, and the golden orange light of sunset broke through the clouds, falling full upon his face.
That single image, the young German standing bathed in light beneath the applause of Europe, would travel in newspapers for weeks.
…
At the same time, far away at Bellevue Palace, inside the President's office, a different atmosphere prevailed.
Cough, cough, cough.
The sound of persistent coughing turned the usually quiet office melancholy.
Pulling the blanket tighter around his shoulders, Albert held his fountain pen in an unsteady hand and signed his name in the final column of the women's suffrage bill. No sooner had he finished than another fit of coughing overtook him.
"Mr. President, you should rest now."
His secretary quickly moved a cup of hot tea before him.
Albert took a sip, but the warmth only stirred his throat further, and another bout of coughing wracked his chest. He leaned back in his chair and rested for a moment before finally managing to recover.
Then he shook his head.
"I know my own body best. The weather has changed. It's cold enough to…" He broke off into more coughing.
After taking two slow breaths and calming the pain in his chest, Ebert waved away the secretary's hand and asked,
"I heard Jörg went to Norway?"
"That's right, sir. By now, the Nobel Peace Prize ceremony may already be underway."
At the secretary's signal, a few pine logs were placed into the fireplace. The dim flames brightened again, dancing higher as if trying to revive themselves, like an empire refusing to die.
"He's still too young," Ebert murmured. "He shouldn't have gone at a time like this.
"With him away, those old men will see a rare opportunity. By the time he returns, he may be walking straight into a trap laid in advance."
He stared into the fire.
"If he falls into it, climbing back out won't be easy."
The secretary stood quietly nearby and said, "Mr. President, I think your first concern should be your health.
"As for Mr. Jörg, didn't you once say he was a far sighted imperial eagle?"
Ebert's tightly drawn brows relaxed at that.
"Yes. You're right.
"How could an imperial eagle fall into a hunter's trap? I'm simply old. Too cautious, perhaps. Old enough that I no longer understand the minds of young men."
He took another sip of tea and let out a slow breath.
"I hope Jörg can resolve this trouble himself. A man must establish his authority sooner or later."
Suppressing the itch in his throat, he drank most of the tea in one go before continuing.
"I heard the Imperial Eagle car company sent me a vehicle?"
"That's right, sir. It arrived yesterday, along with the one intended for Mr. Hindenburg. It's a specially designed model, significantly larger than most automobiles."
Ebert reached for the cane by the coat rack and rose slowly.
"Come. Let's take the day off and drive to the factory district.
"Those nobles are always mocking me for being the son of a harness maker. They're right, of course. But it has been a long time since I last set foot in a factory."
The secretary instinctively wanted to dissuade him. The smoke, the cold, the danger to his health, all of it flashed across his mind. But seeing Ebert already fastening his overcoat and winding his scarf into place, he knew argument was useless.
He bowed and replied, "I'll have the driver prepared immediately."
Ebert shook his head.
"No fuss. I just… want to take a look."
.....
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