"What's my role in your plan, Herr Oberst?" Sonic asked in a low whisper, as Amadeus drew a blanket over his daughter.

"We'll set out in force," the old fox answered in an equally low whisper. "Take twenty men. Tell them that they'll be met at the foreign affairs ministry by twenty Qing soldiers, to guard against any civilian interference at the meeting."

Sonic shut the door to Amadeus's quarters. He didn't change his volume. "Will there be a meeting?"

Amadeus didn't immediately answer. He found a pen and an old law book on one of the shelves in his quarters, then removed a chess board from under his bunk. He set out the board and pieces on the floor, and gestured for Sonic to sit opposite him.

"Yes, there will be." On the inside cover of the book, he wrote: You will lead Ketteler's guard. When everyone is seated, my contact will announce Kettleler's arrest. If he makes a run for it, you will make sure he complies with the arrest. "Black or white?"

"Black." Sonic set up his pieces, then wrote: And after that?

Amadeus sent a pawn two spaces forward. You and I will make sure our men don't do anything rash as we return to the Quarter. Is there anyone in the ranks who might try to save Ketteler?

Sonic thought. Smygwie, maybe. I know he dislikes Herr Leutnant as much as Ketteler does, probably for the same reasons.

Amadeus nodded. Put him on the wall, then. Who might go along with him if he decided to mutiny and attempt a rescue?

Sonic responded with a pawn of his own, moving it one space ahead. Lindbergh, perhaps Kosschorreck and Neubach, and maybe one of their friends might go along with it to back them up. But they don't really like Ketteler.

Another white pawn moved two spaces from its starting position. Lindbergh's still in the hospital, isn't he?

Sonic moved a bishop. "Check." You're right, he is. So Kosschorreck and Neubach should be on wall duty. Aside from them, I'd have to ask.

Amadeus interposed his own bishop between the king and Sonic's bishop. Don't ask, then. Tell the others nothing more than you have to.

Sonic moved his queen one space behind the pawn. And your son?

A pause. Keep him here, Amadeus wrote, He and Wesreidau will be able to manage the garrison until we return. He was tempted to take the black bishop with his white, but that would allow Sonic's queen to take the lost bishop's position. He decided to move another pawn forward, nestling it directly ahead of the black bishop.

Sonic looked puzzled as he moved another pawn forward. Why are you coming along?

A white knight shot ahead of the line of pawns. Two reasons: first, Ketteler will need me as his interpreter, and he would grow suspicious if I didn't go with him. Second, there will be a meeting after the arrest. In Ketteler's absence, I will assume most of his responsibilities as minister until the Kaiser appoints a replacement. I will see to it that negotiations with the Qing court will be productive.

Sonic wrote before he made his play. What if they decide to arrest you, too? Then he shifted one of his own knights forward.

Amadeus looked unhappy as he moved a white rook into the spot his knight had vacated. That's a risk I will have to take. But the Qing knows I can be reasoned with, and Ketteler can't. They know I can stave off a war they can't afford.

Sonic frowned as his knight took out a pawn. Amadeus would have to move his bishop if he wished to keep it. With all due respect, how do you know all this? Suppose the Qing opts for war anyway?

A longer pause. Amadeus moved his queen behind the bishop. If the Qing decides to arrest us both, the smart thing to do would be to keep us as hostages. If that happens, whatever you do, do not try to rescue me. That would only escalate the situation. He then added: You will not tell Miles this.

Slowly, Sonic nodded. He then wrote: What about the Boxers? They might not hear about us leaving the Quarter until after the arrest, but what then? Surely they'll want Ketteler's head, too? He moved a pawn two spaces ahead, to allow one of his own rooks into play.

Amadeus took the knight with his bishop. Arm our men with bayonets, pistols, shotguns, grenades, and as much ammunition as they can carry: the streets around the Qing ministry will be too narrow for rifles.

Sahne began to fret in the crib. Amadeus stood up, gently rested his hand on her chest. She gripped onto his fingers, but didn't open her eyes. After a long time, she lay still, snoring peacefully.

The old fox looked over at Sonic, who was still seated at the chessboard. "Herr Hauptmann?"

"Yes, Herr Oberst?"

"Should the worst happen…" He swallowed. He felt Sahne's heartbeat, warm and strong under his hand. "Protect my children. Both of them."

"Is that an order, sir?"

"Should it be?"

"No, sir."

Amadeus nodded. "Thank you."

Amy was curled up on a futon on the floor, drifting off, when Sally entered the dark bedroom. Now she was awake. She sat up, and couldn't stop herself from asking: "Sal, what's going on with Tails?"

Sally offered a weary smile. "He's…" She shook her head. "He's at peace now." That sounded too much like something she'd say at a funeral. She added: "With Christ, I mean." She then shut the door behind herself, leaving both women in darkness, but for a strip of dim light under the door.

Amy sounded surprised. "I thought he was a Christian?"

"He was. He is." Sally let herself fall on the bed beside Amy's futon, too tired to talk Amy into swapping places. "He was just…" Her eyes went to the black ceiling. How would Vanilla put it? "He just didn't understand grace. I helped talk him through it."

A thoughtful pause. Then Amy said softly: "He's okay now, isn't he?"

Father Above, I hope so. For tonight, she was sure he was. But tomorrow, next week, the next two weeks? She wasn't sure at all. He'll have to get his pistol back to do his job. Sally herself had kept her father's gun, had been tempted to try again a few more times since she'd met Vanilla, and had given into the temptation on the night Chu came to burn the mission. Each time before that night, she'd asked Vanilla to pray with her, and hadn't explained what she was thinking. I told him to come talk to me if that happened again. But will he listen? Aloud, she said: "Yes."

Amy wasn't satisfied. "What did you see him doing?"

Sally hesitated. She couldn't lie. But she could deflect, as Tails had. Sally rubbed her face, creating a slight resonance as she said: "I thought you agreed to wait until he told you."

"We didn't shake on it."

"That doesn't mean you didn't promise."

"Sal, what was it?"

A piece of the truth slipped out. "He was..he was crying. He didn't want you to know that."

Amy saw through it. "Crying, that's it?"

Sally's tone was sharper than she intended. "Amy. Drop it." Then she added more softly: "Please."

Amy sighed as she laid back on the futon. "Fine." She began to whistle.

Sally made a sound halfway between a sigh and a short laugh. This again? She recognized the tune immediately: it was "Dixie's Land".

I wish I was in the land of cotton,

Old times there are not forgotten,

Look away, look away, look away, Dixie Land…

Sally shook her head in the dark. "Sorry. That's not going to work this time."

"Sure it will." Amy continued whistling.

Try me. Sally waited for Amy to take a breath before she pounced. Softly, she hummed along:

A-way down south in the land of traitors,

Rat-tle snakes and al-li-gators,

Right away, come awa–

Amy's whistling broke into uncontrolled, nasally snickers. "Did you just make that up?"

"No." Sally turned onto her side, facing Amy. Both of them were smiling. "My father taught me that one."

"And it's a whole song?"

"It is. I'll teach you the rest if you want."

"Where'd your da learn that one, the army?"

Sally found it strangely pleasant, talking about her father in this context. It made her feel less tired, too. "Yeah, he learned quite a few songs, and I picked them up from him. I think he learned that one during the war in the South."

Amy grinned back. "My granddad was in the war, too." Then she realized something: "You've never said a word about your da before. What was he like?"

In the past, Sally would have changed the subject. But now, she felt she could speak more freely. "He was a sweet man, and quiet. He had a huge library in his office."

"What'd he do in the war?"

"To start, he was fifteen, and had to lie about his age to join the army. He just packed his things and went straight to the recruiting office."

"When was that?"

"Early '63, I think. He said he was sent to Gettysburg halfway through his training."

Amy's eyes widened. " Gettysburg? Did he survive that?"

Sally suddenly felt queasy. The image of her father slumped over his desk flashed through her mind for just a moment, but just for a moment. This allowed her to swallow her bile and say: "Yes, he survived." Then her subconscious did some math, and she said: "Amy, how old do you think I am?"

"Uhhh…"

Sally threw her pillow in Amy's direction, and heard it impact with a soft puff. "I'm twenty-six."

Amy threw the pillow back, nailing Sally square in the face. "I didn't know!"

Sally spit out a feather, and decided to continue her story. "Yes, he survived. He even rescued Vanilla's uncle in Vicksburg a year later."

Amy was fascinated. "I didn't know she had an uncle, who was he?"

"A general. Anyway, he found out my father's real age, and sent him home after the battle under guard, though with a medal. My grandfather was just glad he was alive."

"What happened after that?"

"He went to West Point after the war, joined the cavalry as a captain. He was going to go west with General Custer when he found out I was in the womb."

"He just left the army?"

"He asked for a transfer to a base closer to home. After my mother died, he resigned."

Amy propped herself on an elbow, and shook her head. "She died having you?" Amy hoped not: that was how her own mother had died.

"Tuberculosis," Sally answered regretfully, "I was two. Truthfully, I don't really remember her."

"Did he remarry?"

"No. He said he didn't have room for anyone in his heart, besides me and my mother. He…" Why am I saying this? "He died, two years before I met Vanilla."

Amy sensed the change in Sally's voice. "What happened?"

"He shot himself."

Amy couldn't stop her gasp, as Sally began to sniffle. Now it all made sense to her: Sally's father had planted that horrible idea in her friend's head. She suddenly, violently hated him. But it was not hatred that came out of her then. She promptly got up, and squeezed Sally in a hard hug.

Despite the heat of the environment, the pressure and warmth of Amy's arms around her soothed the terrible ache in Sally's heart. She thanked God it was enough to keep her from bursting into tears all over again: even if she wanted to, she knew she was at a point where more tears would lead to ugly heaves. She returned the embrace. She heard Amy trying to swallow her own grief. "It's alright. It's alright. It's okay."

Amy pulled away slightly, to look her in the eyes. "Don't ever do that again."

"I won't. I promise."

"Shake on it?"

"Sure." She found one of Amy's hands, gripped it tightly, then gave it a firm shake. For a long time, these sisters in Christ embraced in the dark, not speaking. Amy's embrace slackened, her body went limp, and she began to snore. Too exhausted to move, Sally closed her eyes to pray. Father… A sensation of falling–or was it floating?–as sleep finally dragged her away the waking world.