“They were all guilty of crimes against humanity,” the legislator returned. “Every one of them who fought in the unjust war this country waged against an innocent world were guilty.”

“Were this true,” said the chancellor, mildly, “then equally guilty would be Heinz Guderian, Erich Manstein, Erwin Rommel, or Gerd von Rundstedt. They actually did the higher level planning for that war. The people I propose to bring back were low-level players indeed compared to those famous and admired German soldiers.”

“They murdered prisoners!” shrieked another legislator.

“In that war everyone murdered prisoners.”

And so it went, seemingly endlessly. Opponents spoke up; the chancellor answered mildly. Proponents spoke up, usually mildly, and opponents shrieked with fury. In the end it came to a vote… and that vote was very close.

* * *

All eyes turned to the ashen-faced Annemarie Mai as she mounted the speaker’s rostrum. The tie was hers to break, one way or the other. With the images of split children’s skulls echoing in her brain she announced, “I have conditions.”

“Conditions?” asked the chancellor.

“Several,” she nodded. “First, these people are the bearers of a disease, a political disease. They must be quarantined to ensure they do not spread their disease.”

“To get any use out of them, I have to use them as a cadre for others.”

“I understand that,” Annemarie answered. “But that group, once filled up to the military body you desire, must be kept as isolated as possible lest the disease spread beyond our ability to control.”

“Then we are agreed,” the chancellor said.