The leadership of the Free Belgians sits quietly around a table. After the raid that captured Von Trapp, the organization has been far more cautious about taking actions. Nevertheless, the meetings continue on. There is a sense of urgency in the air, as Belgium prepares to vote. Georges Savarin has looked increasingly unwell in the past six months, aging what seemed like years in a matter of weeks. Internally, he is debating upon whether to join his family in France, whom he has now not seen in two and a half years. Externally, he remains committed as ever, though prospects of ever stopping Beauffort are looking increasingly slim.
"Order, order!" exclaimed William DeWitt. "We need to get this meeting started, everyone."
"I don't like this lining up with the Government in Exile business," said Jan van Breiner. "What if they put Egglebert or whoever-the-hell back on the throne when we'd have literally no better opportunity to abolish the damn thing?" he asked.
"Well, it's true that Poisson and I have never quite...shall we say, seen eye to eye, but he has the international community on his side, and just as importantly, General Dierec. Let's be honest, we wouldn't get anywhere without the navy - if Beauffort can't get himself a frigate, Monsieur de Zoet will certainly not be able to provide us with one - and Poisson has friends in high places in London. We'll outnumber him by far at the elections anyway. Besides, Poisson is nothing if not open to negotiation," Savarin responded.
"Right, well, that takes care of item 1 of the agenda," said DeWitt. "More pressingly, though, we need to discuss what the biggest threat to Belgium is right now. We need an angle to play up in our submission to the Free Belgian Press. Beauffort is obvious, but...well, what is the next-worst?"
"The Traditionalist League, definitely! Bloody reactionaries have finally crawled out of the woodwork," said Floris van Dyke.
"Vanderbruckists, bar none! Their terror campaigns make the last stand of the March Uprising in Spa look like a picnic by comparison," said van Breiner.
"I'm pretty sure it's the Catholic Unity Party. Have you seen their meetings? They have pictures of Beauffort hanging everywhere, his quotes are plastered all over the meeting hall, they start off by praising him in unison...I've never seen anything like it. They're not reactionaries like the Vanderbruckists. They're something else entirely. I'm not sure quite what it is, but it chills me to the bone..." said Jean.
"Why do you think they have a fasces in their logo, anyway?" asked Martijn Oosterhout. "It's a republican symbol, and Beauffortists are quite sensitive to such things, so I'm not sure what they're getting at...But indeed, Jean is right. They may not be the most immediate threat, but they're dangerous for certain."
"I'm not so sure, gentlemen," said Savarin. "If you ask me, the most dangerous man in Belgium, other than Beauffort himself, is Franz Wolff."
"But he's leading the GLP! He's one of the country's last lines of defense against la Beauffortisme!" said Oosterhout.
"I know. He's a great man, I've worked with him for years, and I know he's doing what he thinks is right. But here's the problem. The instant the PLM wins an election, or rather just barely loses, Beauffort has truly won."
"Now hold on just a second..." began Oosterhout, but DeWitt cut him off. "Let him finish...but I have to admit, I am mildly confused, Georges."
"Beauffort has lined everything up perfectly," said Georges. "By choosing not to run, he created the illusion that he was respecting democracy and the people's demands. We didn't fall for it, but many did. By deciding to run again by popular demand - some of it actually genuine at this point - he's made it clear that he is the one who can carry forward the new movement. He's made himself into the reluctant hero. Now, when he wins his farce of an election, he can claim that he has a mandate from the people. We know that's nonsense, as the only people voting are his supporters, but he's almost all the way there with that. The only problem is that no matter how much of a mandate he claims to have, no one in the international community will accept an election where the ruling party always gets eighty percent turnout. But if the PLM wins, or almost wins, Beauffort can finally call himself a real democrat, and accordingly say that his coup really was needed to save democracy. The world will believe him one day, and then our cause will be lost."
"I'm not entirely sure, but there's something to this," said DeWitt. "When he seized power years ago, there were riots in the streets for says at a time. Now, some are still against him, some have resigned themselves, but some have really started to like him. There are Beauffortist demonstrations now, and more and more of them as time goes on. Some of the people welcome Beauffort's judgment now."
'Exactly," continued Savarin. "Ultimately, Beauffort knows that his regime's fate lies in the people accepting it. Some see it as a good thing already. This election is going to be critical."
"Doesn't all this seem a bit overthought?" asked Floris van Dyke.
"Beauffort is a genius. He may be an anti-democratic remnant of the Ancien Regime, but if you think he doesn't know all this, you're only fooling yourself. The future of Belgium and, indeed, of democracy is hanging in the balance, and he will not stop until he wins. This election is the endgame. Regardless, Belgium has not given up hope yet, and neither will we!" The group cheered in response.
---
Later that night, Georges is sitting in the cellar alone, holding tea. Oosterhout comes into the room.
"Something troubling you, Georges? You're up rather late," Oosterhout said.
"I had the strangest dream...I dreamed I was in a monstrous cafe, brightly lit but deep underground, with no way out. All the serving girls had the same face, and when I asked one what she was doing there, she could not answer...all the food was soap, nothing but soap...there was music there, quite unlike anything I had ever heard, and it bewitched me. I sat and listened, drinking soap until everything began to stretch and change...the music got louder, the colors got brighter...one of the serving girls tried to run, but she was no match for the guards; they downed her in a single shot. I couldn't watch but the noise became deafening and I felt like I couldn't close my eyes. Then I felt a deep pain in my heart, and then I woke up."
"That's quite...quite a dream," said Oosterhout. "What do you suppose it means?"
"I haven't a clue...but I do have a feeling. By this time next year I will be reunited with my family...one way or another..."
Oosterhout tried to ask more questions, but Savarin could only shake his head in response. After trying a few, Oosterhout said he was going to go back to bed. Georges remained in the main room, alone, staring into the candlelight.
D))
