Chapter 320 - 103: A Dissident’s Investment (Part 3)

Chapter 320: Chapter 103: A Dissident’s Investment (Part 3)

Werner smiled. "You’re a clever woman. You’re right, this certainly isn’t normal." He raised his coffee cup and took a slow sip. "But I can assure you, this isn’t a trap. If the Stasi wanted to arrest you, they wouldn’t need to go to all this trouble."

"Then what is it you want, exactly?"

"I want a future." Werner set down his cup, looking Bettina in the eye. "I saw the workers’ strikes in Poland. I saw the system’s fragility. I don’t know how much longer East Germany can hold on, but I know that if the system changes one day, people like you will become important figures in the new era."

"When that day comes, Miss Wegener, I—a businessman who made his money under the old regime—will need someone to put in a good word for me. To tell people that I wasn’t just a speculator, that I also helped those who genuinely wanted to change this country."

Bettina was silent for a long time, then suddenly laughed. "You’re certainly candid."

"Because I know you’re no fool." Werner leaned back in his chair. "If I came up with some noble-sounding excuse, you wouldn’t believe me anyway. I’m a businessman, Miss Wegener. Everything I do has a clear-cut calculation of interest. But that doesn’t stop me from helping you do the right thing."

"You’re right." Bettina picked up the envelope and quickly stuffed it into her bag. "But I need to be candid as well—we won’t be beholden to you just because we’ve taken your money. Our ideals won’t change, and our criticism of the system won’t stop."

"I don’t expect to change your ideals." Werner shook his head. "In fact, I hope you stick to them. Because only people with true ideals are worth my investment. If you could be bought so easily, it would mean your convictions are worthless, and my investment would be pointless."

Bettina looked at Werner intently, as if gauging the truth in his words. "Five thousand a month?"

"Correct. But I’ll need to know what the money is used for."

"Copiers, paper, books, the cost of contacting Western media." Bettina counted on her fingers. "We also want to build an underground library to collect books that are banned in East Germany."

"Excellent." Werner nodded. "What else?"

"What do you mean, ’what else’?"

"What else do you need? Don’t tell me five thousand Marks is enough." Werner stared at her. "To do what you want to do, you’ll need far more than that."

Bettina hesitated. "We want to contact an environmental organization in West Germany, the GLU. Their experience in environmental matters could help us. But we don’t have a secure channel for communications."

An idea sparked in Werner’s mind.

’The Green List. Of course he knew about that organization. As a Transmigrator, he was well aware that this group would eventually merge with other environmental organizations to become the German Green Party.’

’The very same party that would prance about Germany’s political stage after reunification, shouting environmentalist ideals while simultaneously making a complete mess of energy policy. Shut down nuclear power plants, only to burn more coal. Champion renewable energy, only to cause German electricity prices to soar to the highest in Europe. They’d talk about climate justice all day, yet their proposed solutions never took the actual costs into account.’

’But for now, these people were still true idealists who hadn’t yet tasted power.’

"I can help with that," Werner said. "I have reliable contacts in West Germany who can help you pass information, even arrange for people to travel back and forth. But, same as before, I need to know who is making contact and for what purpose."

"Aren’t you afraid of being found out?" Bettina asked.

"I am," Werner admitted. "But risk and reward are proportional. Tell me, if the system really does change in the future, how do you think those who helped the pro-democracy movement will be treated?"

Bettina fell silent, then said slowly, "You’ve thought this all through very clearly."

"I’m a businessman; it’s a professional habit." Werner smiled. "However, Miss Wegener, I must also warn you about something. There’s a man in your circle named Friedrich. You’d best be careful of him."

The color drained from Bettina’s face. "How do you know about Friedrich?"

"I have my sources," Werner said without elaborating. "All I can say is that he may not be reliable. How you handle him is your decision, but I would advise against letting him get near any core operations."

Bettina stared at Werner for a long time, her expression a mixture of emotions. "Who are you, really?"

"A businessman," Werner said calmly. "One who doesn’t want to be purged and put on trial when the system collapses."

"And what if the system doesn’t collapse?" Bettina asked. "If everything stays the same, won’t your investment have been for nothing?"

"It’s no great loss." Werner shrugged. "I’m just spending five thousand Marks a month to help people who genuinely want to change the country. Even if nothing comes of it, that’s not a bad thing in itself, is it?" He paused. "And to be honest, helping you all eases my conscience a bit. I’ve done a lot of things I’m not proud of over the years to make money. Maybe this can be a kind of... atonement."

Bettina looked at Werner, her gaze softening. "You’re more complex than I thought."

"Anyone who’s managed to survive in this country is complex," Werner said. "Miss Wegener, if you or your friends run into trouble, you can contact me through Father Weber. I can’t promise I’ll be able to help every time, but I’ll do my best."

Bettina extended her hand. "I believe you, Mr. Betelich. Not because you’re noble, but because you’re brutally honest."

The two shook hands, and Werner could feel the sweat on her palm.

The thirty-two-year-old biologist appeared calm, but inside she was a nervous wreck.

But she had overcome her fear to sit here and negotiate with a high-ranking figure within the establishment. That took courage.

"One last thing," Werner said. "When we next meet, I’ll give you some West German contact information. The equipment and books you need—I can help you get them shipped in from West Germany. But you must be careful. Leave no traces."

"Understood." Bettina nodded. "We’ll be careful."

They talked for another half hour, with Bettina mostly describing the core members of her circle.

Werner carefully committed each name to memory, comparing them in his head to the files Anna had provided.

************

「It was almost ten by the time he returned to the apartment.」

Werner took off his coat, poured himself a glass of whiskey, and sat by the window.

The street below was deserted, with only the streetlights casting pools of dim, yellow light.

The telephone rang.

"It’s me." Anna’s voice came over the line. "You met with Bettina Wegener today."

"Are you spying on me?" Werner wasn’t surprised.

"I’m protecting you," Anna corrected him. "Werner, do you have any idea what you’re doing? Funding dissidents is treason."

"I’m not committing treason," Werner said calmly. "I’m just conducting business. Investing in the future."

"You see those people as an investment?"

"Why not?" Werner took a sip of his drink. "Anna, do you know what I saw in Poland? I saw the system’s fragility. I saw the people’s discontent." He paused. "When the system collapses, I’ll need people who can vouch for me."

The other end of the line went silent.

After a long pause, Anna said softly, "Even if you’re right, contacting dissidents is too dangerous. Klaus is watching you, and so is General Baker. They’re both looking for an excuse to take you down."

"That’s why I need to prepare more contingencies," Werner said. "East German ones, West German ones, the dissidents, the Church. I need to make sure I can survive, no matter what happens."

"You really do think far ahead."

"I have to," Werner said, his gaze fixed on the distant Berlin Wall. "Because I don’t want to wait until it’s too late to have regrets."

He heard a soft breath on the other end of the line, and then Anna said, "I’ll come see you tomorrow."

"Okay."

After hanging up, Werner sat for a long time.

He thought about the people he had met that day—Harviman, a sixty-year-old idealist willing to lose everything to uphold his beliefs. Bettina, a young biologist who knew the dangers, yet chose to stand up anyway.

They were nothing like him.

They believed in ideals and justice.

He, on the other hand, only believed in survival, self-interest, and hedging his risks.

But perhaps his pragmatism was exactly what could help those idealists.

As the wheels of history rolled forward, it wasn’t just ideals that were needed, but people like him as well.

Werner stood up and poured himself another drink.

Outside the window, the searchlights on the Berlin Wall continued to sweep back and forth, cutting the entire city in two.

’One day, this wall will fall.’

He raised his glass to the Berlin Wall outside his window and said softly, "Here’s to your speedy collapse."

Then he downed it in one go.