The Andes Dream-Chapter 212: Blueprints from Göttinga

Carlos asked curiously, "Do you really like coffee? I thought Europeans preferred chocolate and wine—or tea, like the British. I never imagined coffee would be your drink."

Krugger almost spat."Chocolate? Tea?" he barked, slamming his tin cup onto the table. "Those are drinks for the soft, Carlos—for French courtiers who paint like children and English lords who sit on silk chairs while planning how to betray their next ally. To a real Prussian, tea is nothing but colored water, and chocolate... chocolate is a dessert for priests and frightened children."

He leaned forward, his face tightening as he delivered what he considered simple Prussian common sense.

"In the North we have a saying: beer for the body, but coffee for the mind. When the King’s infantry marches through the mud of Silesia at three in the morning, they do not ask for tea. They need something that bites back. They need the Black Soup. Coffee is the drink of the wakeful, the ambitious, the restless. It does not dull the senses like wine, nor weigh you down like thick chocolate—it sharpens you into a bayonet."

He lifted the cup again, studying the dark liquid.

"And judging by this flavor, the men I brought will live very well in this land. You do not know the kind of coffee that reaches Prussia—after months of travel, stale and bitter, yet still ruinously expensive."

Carlos paused, thinking quickly."Then why don’t we sell it to the Prussians? Or at least send it to Hamburg?"

Krugger considered the idea, then slowly shook his head."I doubt it would work. Right now the trade is controlled by the monopolies of France and the Low Countries. Without a navy, we would depend on the word of those self-righteous Frenchmen and those merchants of misery—and they would demand crushing taxes. Still... if you ever build a fleet strong enough, the King himself would gladly buy from you."

Carlos shrugged."No money. That was the whole reason to sell it in the first place. Though perhaps we could smuggle some. It would not bring much, but every peso matters."

Krugger returned the shrug."Then let others risk their necks. You said you already deal with slavers—give them the plan. They might gamble their lives for more coin."

Carlos nodded, then leaned forward."Show me what that boy sent."

At this, Krugger’s smile widened.

"Something indispensable for your future independence. From what I understand, there is little steel in this land, yes? I have seen your muskets and swords—they are common iron, nothing more."

Carlos’s eyes lit with sudden hunger.

"Was he able to achieve mass production of steel? If that is true, we could arm our troops at once—and make a fortune selling tools. Not only the rich—farmers and miners are already desperate for them. Steel-tipped tools are becoming legends in these mountains. In Medellín people swear they can bite through the hardest Antioquian granite without losing their edge... that a single plow tipped with steel does the work of ten made from Spanish iron."

Krugger looked genuinely surprised."You already have steel here?" he asked, frowning. "Wait... that makes no sense. Francisco told me you desperately needed proper steel production. He even risked discovery gathering technical texts in Göttingen for that purpose."

Carlos quickly realized the misunderstanding."No—we did need it, and I am grateful the boy worked so hard. The steel we produce now is... primitive. It is made by the African workers in our service. They are skilled—more than most realize—and they shared part of their knowledge with us. But the quantity is extremely small. That is why we still need a true method of production."

Krugger suddenly slapped his forehead."Now I remember. He told me to deliver these blueprints to someone named Ogundele, yes? But... weren’t Africans slaves here? Why are they suddenly workers?"

Carlos shrugged calmly."Ogundelé was the most capable among the Africans Francisco purchased. He fell in love with another servant—the grandmother of Catalina, whom I believe you met in Hanover. But he refused to marry as a slave. So we made a bargain. Francisco promised them freedom after five years. Later, we improved the agreement: they would work as paid employees for those five years, bound only by contract, and then gain full freedom. Once I granted that to Ogundele, I could not deny the same to the others. They accepted."

Krugger let out a slow breath of relief."That is good. I was always against the boy keeping slaves. We Prussians... despise slavery."

Carlos raised an eyebrow."A Prussian against slavery? That sounds almost poetic, General—coming from a man devoted to an army where every breath is ruled by a manual. Is there truly a difference between a man bound by chains and one bound by iron discipline? Are your soldiers not... slaves of the State?"

Krugger released a dry, rasping chuckle, the firelight flickering in his eyes.

"A common mistake, Carlos. And a fatal one," he said, leaning forward. "A slave is a tool you own, like a horse or a hammer. You use it until it breaks, then replace it. There is no soul in that exchange—therefore, no loyalty.

But a Prussian soldier? He is a contract. He gives his life to the King, yes—but in return the King gives him wages, honor, and a place in history."

He lifted a finger and pointed toward the door, where the workers rested beyond the room.

"What you did with Ogundele... that is the Prussian way. You didn’t give him a gift; you made a bargain. You traded his sweat for his future. That is how you build a machine that lasts. In Berlin, we don’t want men who work because they fear the whip; we want men who work because they fear failure—because they want to earn their place. Slavery is a waste of human potential, Carlos. It’s an old Spanish habit that smells of rot. What you have here—contracts, wages, and the promise of freedom—that is the fuel of an empire."

Carlos raised an eyebrow. A nationalist at heart, even if he opposed Spain, he would not allow Krugger to speak of his homeland with open contempt.

"Or is it," Carlos replied sharply, "because Prussia has no colonies to exploit? Because your kingdom has never had the chance? Would the King of Prussia speak so nobly if it had been Prussian ships—not Spanish—that first reached the Americas?"

Krugger’s eyes narrowed into icy slits, and the air in the room seemed to cool. He set his coffee cup down with a deliberate metallic click.

"Careful, Carlos," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "You defend the hand that holds the leash simply because it speaks your language. You ask whether we would be different? Prussia does not seek to own men because ownership breeds decay. Look at your Spanish lords. They grew fat on Incan gold and African sweat. They stopped being soldiers and became jailers. They stopped inventing and began merely consuming." 𝒇𝒓𝙚𝒆𝔀𝓮𝓫𝒏𝓸𝙫𝓮𝓵.𝓬𝙤𝙢

Carlos did not retreat.

"That is easy to say from poverty," he shot back. "Spain became what it is because it was rich—because it ruled half the world. And do not underestimate the empire. Even weakened by corruption, there is a reason Britain and France have not dared to tear it apart completely. Spanish soldiers are far more dangerous than you think."

Krugger answered at once, and the debate flared hotter.For a moment, the two men were no longer allies in rebellion but sons of rival worlds—Prussian iron against Spanish legacy. Their voices rose, sharp with pride and memory, echoing against the plastered walls like distant musket fire.

Only exhaustion finally silenced them.

They sat, still tense, breathing hard in the quiet that followed. The coffee between them had grown lukewarm.

At last, Krugger lifted his cup and drank slowly. When he spoke again, the anger had cooled into something more deliberate—more dangerous.

"Leaving pride aside," he said, "if Catalina’s grandmother and this Ogundele are truly free by your word, then they may become your most powerful weapons. You offered them freedom. They will fight to keep it."

He leaned forward slightly.

"A slave runs when the first Spanish cannon fires.A free man who owes you his dignity will stand until the earth itself swallows him."

His gaze sharpened.

"Tell me, Carlos... how many more of these employees can we recruit? If we turn every slave in this valley into a free man holding a Prussian musket, Spain will not merely lose a colony."

A thin, grim smile touched his lips.

"They will lose their world."

Carlos frowned as he drank from his cup, then asked,"Do you think that if we grant freedom to every slave, they would become our troops against Spain and the fanatics?"

He paused for a moment, then slowly shook his head.

"Though it may sound strange coming from me, the slaves here are not as opposed to their condition as you might think. Perhaps those who have been here for less than two generations—or those newly purchased—would welcome freedom. But those whose families have lived under the same masters for centuries... they might rise against the abolition of slavery itself. We would not only create new soldiers—we would also create new enemies."

He looked down into the dark surface of his coffee.

"Just as Ogundele might fight for me because I gave him freedom, others might fight with equal devotion to preserve the only life they have ever known. This strategy might work better in the northern colonies... but here, it could tear everything apart."