At a long wooden table, an old man was instructing a group of older boys and girls in the construction of something electronic. Probably a radio, Adolf decided. Near the hearth, another man, stripped to the waist, displaying a back more scarred than any Adolf had ever seen, drew a piece of glowing metal from the flames, and began to shape it with a large forging hammer. The cave rang with metallic blows.
Children scurried about, performing small tasks with obvious enjoyment. A group of burly, fur clad men, apparently just back from a hunt, were unwrapping a freshly killed reindeer from a plastic tarp.
At a few words from Adolf’s guide, activity began to wind down, until all of the cave’s forty or so residents were gathered around Adolf and Ilsa.
The smith secured his work, stripped off his gloves and strode to the front. “You are Rabbi Adolf and Ilsa the Valkyrie?” he asked in a voice that rang with authority.
Both of them murmured their assent. “Ludwig thought we might be of use to you,” said Ilsa.
“We’re pleased to have you.” Through the shadows, he glanced keenly at Adolf. “I take it the trip here was a bit rough?”
Adolf smiled weakly. “If you happen to have a hot bath, a sauna and a good masseuse, I wouldn’t turn any of them down. Failing that, a meal and a night’s rest will probably put me back together just fine.”
The assembled partisans laughed. Then a woman wearing mostly rags pushed through the crowd to where Adolf stood. She led him to a stool, bade him sit, and to his surprise, began to massage his aching shoulders.
“No bathtub, I’m afraid,” said the man who led them. “But the hot springs that heat this place provide us with a sauna, of sorts. And you’ll find Rika is the best masseuse around for miles.”
“When you’re done with him, I want to be next,” Ilsa told Rika, as she sagged gratefully down on a nearby bench.
“Why wait?” asked a booming voice in heavily accented German. A large blond man, who could have passed for Thor in this mythically enhanced setting, began rubbing Ilsa’s back.
“Sven, here, is a close second,” said Rika.
Adolf reminded himself not to start trouble his first day here.
The girl who’d been tending the cauldron brought them stew in crude wooden bowls, and gave them sticks that had been sharpened to a point for spearing pieces of meat and vegetables. Adolf gulped down his portion with relish, and slowly felt his body returning to normal.
The partisans let them eat in peace.
Afterwards, there were questions.
“How are things for the peasants in Holland?” asked a sharp faced young man. “My family is there.” An ugly wound on his scalp still looked fresh.
“Better than many other places,” said Adolf. “Radiation has become a real threat to the crops all over Asia and the Middle East. The newest policy I’ve heard—and remember this is several months old, now—is to give the European farmers every possible assistance.”
“We’ve been worried about that up here, too,” said a woman dressed in a patchwork of fur and cloth. “We heard there was a hot strike not far from here, in northwestern Russia. Have you any further news on it?”
“Actually,” said Ilsa, “that one failed to explode. Word is, some Russian partisans retrieved the nuke. A delegation left Poland the same time I did, to try to establish contact with them.”
“Now there’s something I’d like to see,” said the smith. “As of now, all we have of Asia is rumor. Even the European groups are pretty fragmented, as you’ve probably noticed.”
“True,” said Adolf. “But that’s part of why I’m here—“
“Might you know my sister?” asked a young woman. “Her name is Anika. She left for Germany with a group of girls posing as whores. They were trying to recruit from the lower classes and the missgeburt.”
“Sorry, I don’t believe I’ve—“
“Are you really a rabbi?” asked a little boy.
“What’s a rabbi?” asked another.
“Good question,” Adolf said to the first boy. To the second he explained, “’Rabbi’ means ‘teacher’ in Hebrew. Rabbis were wise men who studied the holy writings, and made themselves available to their people for whatever needs they might have.” To the first boy he added, “I like to think I’m in the process of becoming a rabbi. But people liked the title and it’s sort of stuck.”
“There’s not a real big need for Hebrew scholars around here,” said the smith. “But I’m sure we can put you to work.”
“Speak for yourself, Seppi!” said a young man who stood among a group of other young people. He stepped forward and clasped Adolf’s hand. “My friends and I would be honored to study with you, Rabbi. We’re tired of going over the same few books we have between us. Even the discussions are getting repetitive. I’m Thoresten. These are Hans, Cullen, and Luisa.”
Adolf took in Thoresten’s Aryan features and natural grace, and grinned. “Let me guess,” he said. “You’ve attended University somewhere in the Reich? A city that had a Judenmuseum? And the books, people and ideas you found there changed your life?”
There was a buzz of excited whispers among Thoresten’s friends, while the young man himself looked amazed. “How did you know?” he asked.
Adolf was spared the need to reply when Seppi applauded, laughing. “Maybe Ludwig was right. Maybe you are just what we need.”
Rika finished massaging Adolf’s back and slid around to face him. “Is it true that you found the cure for polio in a magic Hebrew book?”
“I helped find the vaccine, but--” There was another buzz of excitement. Adolf tried to explain that all he did was deliver the notes of a Jewish doctor into the right hands, but no one seemed to want to hear that.
When the commotion subsided, two men hurried over, both talking at once. Since one was speaking German and the other Finnish, Adolf turned to the German speaker. They were both doctors, he learned, or at least the closest these people had. They had been the ones to distribute the vaccine in this part of the world, and were eager for anything more Adolf had to offer.
While he was handing over all the medical journals he carried, along with Speer’s notes and a more accurate version of how the vaccine was discovered, another group arrived in the cave. Adolf was beginning to suspect that this hidden cadre was the size of a small town.
“He says his name is Adolf?” an oddly familiar voice was saying. “And he’s about my age?”
“Adolf!” called Seppi. “I almost forgot! We’ve someone among us who you already know.”
Adolf turned, and found himself face to face with yet another ghost from his past. His once carefully trimmed hair and pencil thin mustache were overgrown; his eyes bloodshot from drink. But there was no mistaking his identity.
“Karl!” cried Adolf, staring. “Karl, I don’t believe this! What are you doing here?”
“Waiting for my chance to do this!” Karl punched Adolf in the jaw with enough force to land him hard on his back. Then, everything went dark.
CHAPTER 21
Adolf sat up a moment later, feeling dizzy and confused. He thought his ears were ringing, too, then discovered it was just the sound of Finnish being spoken by many shrill voices. Karl was being restrained by several locals, while two others had guns trained on both him and Adolf.
What a great first impression this must be making, Adolf thought.
He stood slowly, and though he made no move toward Karl, their eyes were locked. “Mind telling me what that was all about?” he said, rubbing his jaw.
“You son of a bitch!” shouted Karl. “This is all your fault! It was supposed to be a game! Forgotten races, ancient religions, museums full of relics. We were there to have fun! Look for answers. No one was supposed to get hurt…”
“I’m not arguing so far,” said Adolf.
“But then you had to go and start believing in it!” Karl’s face was twisted with rage and pain. “You turned it into a movement! Made our leaders afraid. Do you know what you’ve
done? Do you know how many lives were ruined?”
“Ruined? How about lives that were lost, Karl?” Adolf’s voice echoed in the stone chamber, and suddenly, everyone fell silent.
Anger surged within him. Adolf gave full voice to his commanding tone. “If you need a scapegoat, fine! Use me if it’ll make you feel better! But you look very much alive to me, which is more than I can say for Franz and Krista and I don’t know how many others!”
At that, Karl’s face crumpled and he began to sob. The partisans holding him exchanged uncertain glances, finally turning to Adolf for direction.
“Let go of him,” Adolf said gently. His new comrades retreated, as did Ilsa, leaving Adolf and Karl alone by the cave wall. Adolf steered Karl to a stone outcropping; a natural bench than had been rubbed smooth over years of use.
“What happened to you?” Adolf asked, with more patience than he felt.
“I was working at the Department of Commerce. It was about three years ago. I wasn’t moving up as fast as my parents had hoped, but at least, you know, I had a life. I had a terrific girlfriend—who I was trying really hard to turn into my wife. Her family controlled over half the beer industry in Europe.
“Suddenly, one day, I get called into my commandant’s office. I get there and find two Gestapo agents wanting to talk to me.” Karl’s eyes burned with remembered terror. “It was two weeks before I got out! They kept at me twenty-four hours a day! I didn’t sleep; I barely ate! Always the same questions: ‘What did you do at these meetings? Which other students attended? Think carefully, now. It’s important we have all the names.’”
“Which I’m sure you provided,” said Adolf.
“Did you think I wouldn’t?” demanded Karl. “Do you think you wouldn’t, if you’d been in my place? Yeah, I’ve heard your hype: everyone here thinks you’re a hero! But I knew you back then. When the scariest thing that kept you up nights was the next day’s math exam!”
“Things have changed a bit since then.”
“You don’t need to tell me! One, stupid, adolescent mistake, and I was a pariah. I lost my job; I lost my girl. Even my parents were being harassed.”
“And for this you’re blaming me?”
“Maybe not just you. Some of the others were going off the deep end with the Jewish thing. But I forgot all about it once I was out in the real world. To have it come back and haunt me after all those years…”
“So how’d you end up here?”
Karl leaned his head against the rough stone behind him and closed his eyes. “Shining shoes or washing dishes for the rest of my life didn’t appeal to me. So I decided to kill myself. I went back to Stuttgart; to a bridge near my old neighborhood.
“I brought a bottle of bourbon. Unfortunately, it took the whole thing to give me the courage to jump. I was so drunk, I fell off the damned bridge; right onto a smuggler’s boat, passing underneath at the time.” Karl rubbed his eyes. “I’d like to think I’d have seen it, if I were sober.”
Adolf couldn’t help it: he laughed. After a moment, Karl joined him. It was harsh and ragged, but it was the first sign of healing Adolf had felt between them.
“And they recruited you for the underground?”
“Eventually, yes. First, they had to argue over whether or not to slit my throat. One guy wanted to hear my story first. Turns out, he had some customers in the underground who were interested in any inside information about the government, even as low level as mine.
“After that, I just wandered. I found out I have a knack for forgery—when my hand’s steady enough.”
“Doesn’t your drinking count as a security risk?”
“Bastards here won’t let me drink! I keep telling them my hand gets shaky when I don’t drink, not the other way around. It’s getting better though.”
“Glad to hear it,” said Adolf, wondering what to do next.
After a while, Karl spoke. “That blond with you? Is that the missgeburt from the museum?”
“Her name is Ilsa,” said Adolf, realizing for the first time how little she had registered with Karl back then. “And yes, it’s her.”
“You shtupping her?” Karl asked with mild interest.
“I’m required to by law,” said Adolf. “I’m her husband.”
Karl’s bloodshot eyes widened. “You married her? Wow, you’d do anything for attention!”
“Karl, I’m trying very hard to maintain a non-violent stand right now, but if you say one more word about Ilsa—“
“Okay, okay, forget I said anything. What are you doing here, anyway?”
“I was hoping to organize a revolution and spread a little Judaism. Now I’m not sure. Just how much have you poisoned them against me?”
“Me? I’m not that stupid. If I said a word against you, they’d have thrown me out or worse! You saw how they reacted when I hit you. These people think you’re the messiah!”
“Messiah? Karl, I think you remember more Judaism than you give yourself credit for.”
Karl smiled sheepishly. “Well, knowing Judaism kind of sets you in the elite group here. And it really impresses these resistance girls.”
Some things never change, thought Adolf. “Do you know what happened to any of the others? Or are you even interested?”
“I’m not quite as big a jerk as I seem,” said Karl. “I know about Krista. I saw her execution on one of the broadcasts.” To Adolf’s surprise, Karl’s voice broke. “I never knew ‘till then how much I liked her,” he said.
“Brigitta was sent to a brothel,” Adolf said. “Frederic’s somewhere in the resistance. Do you know anything about Franz?”
“In some high level prison, somewhere. That’s all I know.”
Adolf nodded. It was the same as he’d heard from Frederic.
Karl went on, in control once more. “The others, I never heard. Except for you, of course. You’re dead.”
“So they keep telling me. What about my family? Have you heard anything at all?”
“As far as I know, they’re still safe.” For a moment, Karl’s expression was one of malicious glee, and he was about to speak. Then he changed his mind and returned to a look of sullen resentment.
“What aren’t you telling me?” Adolf demanded.
“Nothing. Just rumors. And as little as you might think of me, I’m still not the kind of guy who spreads them.”
“Tell me!” Adolf was a bit surprised to hear his command voice echoing off the wall of the cave.
“It’s nothing! Just that the Heydrich family has moved up the pecking order; very cozy with the Führer.”
Adolf finally realized what he hadn’t before: if the Heydrich family was that far up, his own must be on the way down. “Can you tell me anything specific?”
“If I knew anything, I’d tell you. I’ve never been a real font of wisdom, as you know.” Karl brooded silently for a moment, then said, “I know you didn’t mean for this to happen, Adolf. And it wasn’t all your fault. I’ve just been so pissed off for so long. I…” Adolf waited. “I guess I’m sorry I hit you.”
“Forget it,” said Adolf. “What can you tell me about this place?”
“I’ve only been at this base since November. I helped blow up a tunnel the Army put in, about fifty miles south. I came here to give a report, and then got stuck for the winter.
“That leader, though. Seppi. He’s someone I could follow.”
“What’s his story?” asked Adolf.
“He’s from up north. The men in his family had been the village blacksmiths since--well, forever, I guess. The way he tells it, his people lived the way their ancestors had since the Vikings. The country changed its name, government, everything, and these guys never even noticed.”
“Until the Reich, I suppose?”
“Even then, Seppi said, it didn’t much matter, at least at first. He says the trouble first started when they refused to learn German. Even that, they might have survived. God knows other peasants have.”
“So what happ
ened?”
“Well, I thought it was kind of weird at first. You know how Scandinavia has been a major source of ‘upgradable stock’ for the gene pool? You’ve probably noticed that Finland has always been different.”
Adolf nodded. Most people he’d seen so far were swarthy and compactly built—a throwback to invaders from Central Asia, a millennium ago. Adolf could guess where this was leading. “I take it Seppi’s village was one of those ‘anomalies’ where children with pure Aryan features show up randomly?”
“One of the most interesting cases, they told the people. Nearly a third of the population had ideal looks—and unusually high intelligence to boot.”
“Naturally, they were harvested.”
“Of course,” said Karl. “The women for SS brothels, the younger men for education, the children for testing and fosterage. You’d think their families would have been proud!”
“And they weren’t?” Adolf asked innocently.
“No. Although I can sort of understand it. I mean, how would you like to wake up one morning and find out the only people left in town were short, dark and stupid?”
Adolf resisted an urge to laugh—barely. “What’s this have to do with Seppi?” he asked.
“At first, nothing. Seppi’s people were old stock, and as bad as things got with so much of their work force gone, people still needed a blacksmith. But then the whole region turned into a nest of resistance factions. They wanted their people back, and they wanted their taxes lowered, and they wanted German education out of their schools.
“Party Security identified Seppi as the lynchpin for the whole organization. Rolf Himmler himself took charge of the interrogation. He brought in a team of eager young SS boys. They caught Seppi at his forge, and when he wouldn’t give satisfactory answers, Himmler had Seppi’s entire family lined up in front of him. They shot them all, down to his youngest child, and still didn’t get anything from him.
“Then, one of the young studs suggested that a man so reticent didn’t have any need for a tongue at all. Old Rolf agreed, and ordered the guy to pull out Seppi’s tongue with his own tongs.”
From the Ashes Page 21