The Girl From the New World: 1983 Doomsday

Facing the deceptively picturesque waters of Bodensee, there seemed to be nothing particularly notable about the airfield aside from an occassional fighter or helicopter from the Alpine Air Corps. Today however was different, with police and Alpine Militia alike keeping journalists – and potential troublemakers – behind barricades far from the premises. All while a small welcoming party assembled on the tarmac, complete with a small detachment of Landespolizei straight from Vaduz in dress uniforms. While prosperous compared to some other parts of civilized Europe, the Nations of the Alps still preferred to be frugal in such affairs. 

Still, ceremony has its place, after all, Roderich Edelstein mused with a hint of approval before frowning at an airship coming in from the horizon. A marching band, even. But does our guest deserve this much? A slight tug on his suit’s jacket sleeve from a young lady in a well-kept spring dress snapped him back.  From her long, brown hair to the flower gently nestled on her collar, she looked much like her mother.

“Actual Amerikaners!” the Sopron Frontier Territory whispered with a smile betraying a hint of concern. “Do you think they’ll be friendly, Papa? Like those Kanadai?”

“Your Onkel Vash has yet to comment too much, dear Julia. That much is promising,” he assured her, allowing himself a soft smile even as he resisted the urge to recall the one other time his daughter had encountered their kind amongst a band of depraved raiders. That’s in the past. No need to let her worry. “Though I must warn you. Amerikaners are not quite known for their manners.”

“Maybe they’ve changed since the old days. But I guess we’ll see~”

Just like your mother. He smiled warmly at that before sliding back to an stern façade just as the airship drew closer on its final approach, the Alpine flag proudly displayed on its side. It was a NZ-1 recently purchased from the Prussian New Zeppelin Company, a significantly improved version over its distinguished ancestors. And one of the better ideas to come out of from that albino’s land. Among its passengers however were diplomats and representatives who had arrived in Geneve a few days earlier as part of a grand tour of the Continent, or what’s left of it.

“You needn’t have come all this way, Onkel Roderich. I can handle this on my own.”

Austria glanced at a smiling young woman in an Alpine Militia dress uniform, her hair kept under a beret as she stood closeby on behalf of her sovereign, Prinz Hans Adam II von Liechtenstein. Once, she would have been mistaken for Switzerland’s younger brother save for the ribbon she still wore on her hair. Time, circumstance and necessity however helped her grow not only in body but also in power and influence far beyond her deceptively tiny borders. Yet for all her strength, she was still the same girl who once looked up to the Austrian and his late beloved. 

“Bitte, it is no trouble at all, Lilli,” the Nation nodded as he fixed his spectacles. “Julia could not wait until Salzburg for this.” 

“I’m sure Hans would be happy to see your child too. But be honest, Onkel. These are visitors from the New World. From a country Brüetsch and I once thought impossible. Even you, surely must be a little bit curious about those tourists. Especially with all those stories about that American Spring.” 

Especially with that Neu-Amerikanerin among them. The Nation tried to ignore the mention of her and Vash's son - and would-be embodiment of the Confederation. They would be around long enough to make the most of their time with him anyway.

“It has not even been 10 years since they reemerged to the outside world. I would be lying if I did not have curiosity.” Which is an understatement.  

It didn’t take long before ground crews began scrambling as the airship gently made its descent, with Liechtenstein crisply ordering her men into full attention. The sight of it all, in clockwork Alpine efficiency, provided a momentary if welcome distraction for the Austrian. It was a firm reminder of how far this corner of the Continent had come since the chaos of Doomsday. And an enduring sign that we are not to be trifled with. Something that our Neu-Amerikanerin guest must appreciate…                                        

“Look, Papa!” he heard Sopron gasp as the zeppelin’s engines wound down. “They’re here!”

The Nation watched as the doors opened and people began stepping out onto the tarmac. The first to step out was a young blond woman in a business suit who he recognized as Lina Worth-Ackerman, Switzerland's personal aide and bodyguard. The rest however soon walked into view. Save for the occasional black and Indian man, most were evidently of Germanic or Nordic descent, donning dark, weathered suits that hadn’t been in vogue for decades. Behind them were delegates and officials in their so-called “Sunday best,” sent on behalf of their President. Roderich’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly at their mannerisms. While the so-called “American Diaspora” scattered around the world – especially those in faraway Australia – were relatively common knowledge, these particular Amerikaners seemed humbler and in awe at their Alpine surroundings. Yet they still bore themselves as if on the cusp of something great. Shades of a long dead Nation…

What he didn’t expect however was the teenaged girl in an ill-fitting service uniform briskly walking past the rest of her own countrymen. Though the Austrian knew that it wasn’t unheard of for Survivor-Nations to grow quickly out in the wastelands left behind by Doomsday, he bit his tongue at how far she’d come in the span of a few decades. Or the bosom barely hidden by that outfit. Her short, blond hair, decorated by a star-shaped hairpin reminded him of the grains of wheat that rumors say still abound the Great Plains. Her eyes beaming, almost starry-like in their deceptive innocence. While over her clothing was a weathered, partly burnt bomber jacket, at the side of was a small patch showing an altered flag. It had 11 stars, but he knew what it represented. And who you are….Fraulein.

“Papa?” Austria turned to notice Sopron whispering to him with a hint of excitement. “Aren’t you going to do the honors?”

“Of course.” Now or never. 

With a faint, practiced smile, he glanced briefly at an anxious if approving Liechtenstein before straightening his tie. Then with firm purpose, he walked forward towards the Survivor-Nation. As he did so, time seemed to slow down. He wondered at the absurdity of this situation, meeting halfway and in person a country that had been born again – one that helped burn the world in atomic fire. He wondered how at his beloved, if long-dead Elizaveta must be feeling at that very moment. Then again, I could only guess. Before long however, he was face to face with this smiling Neu-Amerikanerin from the New World. And with one last, inaudible sigh, he offered his hand and his best English.

“Amelia Jones, I presume? I am Austria, and on behalf of all here, Wilkommen und Grüß Gott.” 

The New United States of America grinned as she returned the gesture with a shockingly strong handshake. “A pleasure to meet ‘ya!”

-o-

Schloß Vaduz, Principality of Liechtenstein, Alpine Confederation.

As the sounds of Dvorak's symphonies filled the stately yet homely ballroom of the castle, Roderich kept his composure as he took a sip of wine. After the ceremonial niceties and tour around the Alpine and Liechtensteiner capital – which given its seemingly small size was a short affair – a private ball for the Amerikaner delegates arranged by the Prinz seemed appropriate. Of course, that all been decided beforehand. And so far, so good.

Yet as much as this was all meant impress them with a taste of proper Old World culture long lost to the New, Austria was gaining more insight into an America that until recent years was viewed from afar. As it turned out, much had happened deep in the ashes of the old United States while those souls lucky enough in the chaos after 1983 fled down to faraway Australia. A tale of hardship and rebirth as new Survivor-Nations emerged, some from old cultures while others from new ones. And from what had been the Midwest and Rocky Mountains, there were still those who held on to the American Dream to the point of "reconstituting" a Provisional U.S. in 1992. And that's not even counting that American Spring. The Nation wondered how Fraulein Jones must have felt upon learning not long ago just how pointless having a "Provisional" title was when her land outlasted the "official" government-in-exile in Canberra that had dissolved in 1995, when most people had already written off any prospects of rebuilding that dead superpower.

He couldn’t help but notice however that Fraulein Jones was nowhere to be found amidst the commotion. Not by her now-empty table or anywhere in the ballroom for that matter. Then again, he hadn't seen his dear Sopron lately either; while he was sure that she was undoubtedly safe, it'd be embarassing to ask Liechtenstein where Julia was, especially when Lilli herself was busy attending to their guests. Or her child for that matter. Could it be...

“I see you’re enjoying yourself, Mr. Edelstein.” The Nation looked to the young, brown-haired WCRB officer standing close by in a tuxedo that still looked more recent than the vintage dark suit he had on. "And before you ask, Roza sends her regards."    

How thoughtful for a Cursed One. “Ah, Mr. Wright,” he nodded in English as set his glass aside. “Congratulations again for your timely assistance with this whole affair. Or is it Vizegraf von Camborne this time?”

"Thank you. I don't mind either to be honest. Besides, you're one of the few who even address me as Viscount at all. Aside from Lina - I mean, Ms. Worth-Ackerman, anyway!"

Roderich however noticed the tone in the so-called Cursed One's voice. "Bitte, what is it now?"

The young man sighed. "If you're asking for Amelia, she's outside by the ramparts, Mr. Edelstein. Probably getting some fresh air. She's not exactly used to this kind of environment."

Perhaps I could guess why. Austria nodded approvingly as he calmly excused himself, though not before turning one more time at the young man. "Danke. You best not leave your Fraulein waiting, then." 

With that the Nation quietly slipped away and made his way down the halls and corridors of the 12th Century castle. Despite the seemingly fairy-tale nature of the pristine medieval and Victorian trappings around him - spared from the atomic fires that purged even his old capital of Wien - he knew of how much they spoke of the ruling monarch's power and that of Liechtenstein's role in the Alpine Confederation. It wasn't unheard of after all, for foreigners to be confused whether the Prinz or actual Confederate President was the head of state. The heart of Mitteleuropa, in more ways than one. Hans has much in store... Before long, he found his way out into the chill evening air. True enough, by the ramparts facing the Alpine capital, he caught sight of the Survivor-Nation, her back facing him. And she wasn't alone.

"Julia?" the Austrian exclaimed only the faintest hint of surprise as he fixed his spectacles; from his periphery, he noticed a peculiar bird perched by the old walls. "I thought you were with your Tante Lilli?"

Sopron suddenly looked at her father with confusion before sliding to a bemused smile. "I-I thought Fraulein America needed some company out here, Papa! She's actually rather friendly once you get to know her!"

"I am sure that is the case. Now, bitte, would you kindly go back inside? I only need to have a brief word with our guest."

There was a knowing look from the Magyar Survivor-Nation even as she nodded and briskly left him alone with the Neu-Amerikanerin. As he turned towards the girl, he noticed how she was still wearing her bomber jacket over a blue cocktail dress that despite its modesty left little to the imagination in accentuating her slender, blossoming body. Gott, she really has grown fast...Nein, just stay focused!

"You are missing the festivities, Fraulein Jones. Is it not to your tastes?"

Amelia, seemingly lost in her own thoughts, turned around and managed a grin. "Oh, Mr. Austria. It's not that! Though I wouldn't mind some good dance tracks every now and then. You do have discos here right?"

How typical. "Yes, but that is besides the point. You have nothing to fear from anyone here." Not from me, hopefully.

Her smile seemed to break for a moment as she motioned for him to come closer. "Then do you mind joining me for a minute? It's a pretty cool view!" 

Stunned for a split second, the Nation shrugged ever so slightly as he approached the ledge, right next to Amelia. Spreading out before them were the buildings and lights of Vaduz, stretching out towards and along the Rhine. Even with the more modern structures and expansions over the years, the Alpine city retained something of a rustic charm more befitting its deceptively tiny realm than the Continental power it was the capital of. While Roderich showed no visible emotion, he had to admit it still was an impressive sight. One that's expected to grow even more in due time. Even if I may not be there to see it...

"It's like that movie with the hills and singing, isn't it? They're so - alive!" she finally muttered as she turned towards him, her accent briefly betraying a more Germanic lilt typical of many of her people. "There ain't that many places left where I'm from. Not where I live, anyway."

"If I may be frank, Fraulein Jones, what are you getting at? Surely you are not here to talk about films based on the von Trapps."

"Isn't it obvious? Away from home, in a country where the locals may have damn good reason for hating my folks' guts!? Doesn't take a genius to figure it out!"

"Then why go all this way then Fraulein - Nein, Amelia if you're afraid?"

"I'm not afraid!" the Survivor-Nation huffed, even as she tried to keep her voice level. "Just that - look, I get it if you or your pals have some grudge against Old Man Al, Mr. Austria. You wouldn't be the first one who wants him or me dead. But we're not the ones who blew the world up. We've learned! I've learned. So just give me and my citizens a chance."

And you're right. That is what you shall have.

With only a moment's hesitation, the Nation allowed himself to show a soft smile. "Then surely I would not be the first to let bygones be bygones, ja?"  

There was a stunned look in the Neu-Amerikanerin's face, her blue eyes wide as she briskly grabbed his arm. "W-What did you say? Don't dare lie to me!"

"I said let bygones be bygones," he repeated, shrugging off his own surprise at this turn of events. "If you truly are who you say you are, then make your America great again. Make it known to us all - to yourself, that you Amerikaners are worthy for this brave new world. Your late father would no doubt approve."

After a few tense moments, a grin once more lined her lips. "I-I'm sure the Old Man does."

Despite his smile, it took much out of Roderich to utter what he had just said. His own pride notwithstanding, he doubted whether he would or could ever fully forgive Alfred for his complicity in hastening the death of his beloved Elizaveta, let alone that once-superpower's unwanted role in Doomsday. But as he looked at Amelia, he couldn't help but see the best of the American people in her. Humbled yet still upbeat and resilient as they continued making their way in the world. And for a brief moment, he thought he saw a glimpse of the girl's father in her wide, starry-eyed glare. Whatever happens, I do hope she surpasses you. For all our sakes. 

The moment quickly passed however as she began rambling excitedly. "Now while we're still out here, how 'bout you teach me a bit about Old World dancing? Like those waltzes, don't ya know? Oh! How 'bout those fancy old-fashioned moves, Mr. Austria? They look kinda cool! Can't wait to show the other guys back-"

"Bitte, Roderich would do," he sighed as he gently tried to let go to no avail, all while the same peculiar bird from earlier flew in closer towards the two of them. "And secondly, my heart belongs to someone else."

"Oh, I know," she smirked. "I don't think Mrs. Hungary minds at all actually. Also, Old Man Al sends his regards."

How did you...Oh, how typical. A part of him resisted the urge to laugh at that. But then again, the grand tour of the New United States had only just begun. And he was along for the ride for good or ill.