by Boyd Brent
“I want to speak to him first.”
“About what?”
“About why he's here. Why he's a part of this madness.”
“He's a Nazi. They're evil. Even my teacher said so, and her father is a Nazi. They killed Mummy and Daddy.” David reached out and stroked her hair. “I'm sorry.”
Anna shrugged up her tiny shoulders like it hadn't been his fault anyway. “Who do you keep talking to?”
“Just a friend.”
“Where is he?”
“Inside my head.”
“He must be very small.”
“He is.” Anna jumped up on the bed and reached up to David's ear. “How did he get in there?”
“Some people put him in there.”
“Maybe they can put me in there. We can hide together.”
“I don't think you'd fit.”
Anna huffed a disappointed huff and lowered her hand. “What's his name?”
“Gull.” Anna stood on her tiptoes and peered into David's eyes. “Hello, Gull.”
The officer awoke and opened his eyes. David tugged the pillowcase out of his mouth. A number of teeth came with it and dropped into his lap. “If you make a noise it will be your last.”
The man's chin disappeared into his fat neck. “What? Any noise? Any noise at all? If you have harmed my fellow officers there will be no hiding place. You will be made to endure unimaginable suffering.”
“I doubt even your kind can top what I've been through.”
“You speak German with an accent. I can't quite place it. British? American?”
David got up and stood by the side of the window, looking out. The SS man turned his attention to Anna. He smiled at her, revealing a bloody gap where his front teeth had been. Anna backed away and stood behind David's legs. David reached down and placed a hand on her head. “It's okay. Why don't you go and wait in the washroom while I talk to the Nazi?”
Anna shook her head. “I'm not frightened with you here.”
“You look frightened, little Jew girl.”
David looked out of the window. “That's what I wanted to talk to you about. Your hatred of her people. I'd like you to explain it.”
“Her people? You look like a Jew to me.” He laughed quietly to himself. “A bald-headed Christ.”
David turned and held up his palms. “I still have the wounds … where they nailed me to the cross. I have your people to thank for my bald head.” Beads of sweat appeared on the SS man's forehead. David lowered his hands. “Answer my question.”
“About Jews? They are subhuman. Not people at all. Vermin.”
“You really believe that?” The man's leer suggested that he did.
“I have located an interesting paper,” said Gull. “It was written in the early part of the 24th century by a scientist called Kenneth Payne. I would not have located it had it not contained an explanation of this man's irrational hatred. More importantly, it will provide us a with valuable insight into the erosion of empathy – one based on firm scientific data.”
David smiled. “It will provide us with a valuable insight into the erosion of empathy, Gull?”
“Yes.”
“Good to hear you taking a keen interest.”
“I believe it is to our mutual benefit to understand what we are fighting to preserve.”
“I believe you're right.” David glanced at the SS man. He expected to see the usual concern for his sanity. Not this time. The man gazed towards the ground as though it held conversations with imaginary friends. “You were saying, Gull.”
“In the year 2314, Kenneth Payne published his paper on The Empathy Dome. I have located a holographic recording of one of Mr Payne's lectures at a place called the Royal Society, in London, England. With your permission, I would like to assume primary control and project the salient points of his lecture into this room.”
The SS man was looking at him now, like he was crazier than a banana strudel. David pulled a second chair away from the wall and placed it beside him. He sat down. “Anna.”
“Yes.”
“You're about to see … well, a man is going to appear in this room. He will look like a ghost, but he isn't. He's just a man. Possibly a very clever man.”
“Like a movie?”
“If you like. It will be shone from the whites of my eyes. Anytime you want it to stop just say so.” Anna jumped up on his knee. David's eyes rolled up to their whites and a holographic image of a white-haired man appeared in the room. He was standing behind a table, upon which stood a stand with notes on it. It was clear he had an audience in the same place where these three sat, three hundred years in the past. The SS man's eyes opened as wide as saucers and he mumbled something about Valhalla under his breath.
Kenneth Payne grasped the lapels of his jacket and began his lecture. “The Empathy Dome. It is a phenomenon unique to humankind. It shelters all we learn, all we perceive, and while in a pristine state it protects everything beneath it from our baser, more savage instincts. The Dome exists at a sub-atomic level, which is why it has taken so long to discover it – or, more specifically, the particle from which it is constructed: the aptly christened E. Particles. These E. Particles converged to create the empathy gene. It is likely the empathy gene was present in the first self-replicating molecules, the first life on Earth, three and a half billion years ago. It remained dormant and has been passed on through the process of evolution only to become active approximately one million years ago at the emergence of pre-modern Man. It alone provided our species the possibility of evolving away from our baser instincts of self-preservation at any cost. Now, for reasons of simplicity, we will assume that it multiplied and grew into the shape of a dome. The Empathy Dome. This Dome had a fight on its hands from the very beginning. Chief amongst its combatants? All those things attributed to The Survival of the Fittest – in which a blatant disregard for others plays a key role. But the empathy gene persisted, and it alone provided the possibility of guilt – and beyond guilt the fertile grounds where conscience could evolve. This evolution of conscience was imperative if the empathy gene was to multiply sufficiently to create the Empathy Dome. If each of us had a complete Dome we would be living in a utopia of mutual acceptance. But this would have been too simple, and would have brought the process of evolution, of progression, to a halt. An important element of progression is friction – something to struggle against. A reason to fight on and to outgrow the status quo. And so in place of the Empathy Dome we have … the Splintered Dome – a Dome that, as a result of inherited values, of nurture, of brainwashing, of experience, has become splintered … left areas beneath it exposed to baser instincts of savagery and prejudice. These instincts have dictated the attitudes and actions of many, while for others the Empathy Dome has remained more robust. It is from this division that our legends of good versus evil arose. Of a loving God and of a devil. Interestingly, there is a race of people for whom the Empathy Dome has always been disproportionately splintered in others: a nomadic people, in general highly skilled and good at making money. And at lending it. At times of economic upheaval, they have provided governments with convenient scapegoats, used to divert resentment away from their own failings and create a unifying hatred. I am of course referring to Jews. This hatred often culminated in their expulsion from their adopted homelands, with the debts owed to them conveniently wiped out and the fruits of their productivity seized. This is the template Hitler adopted during the second great war of the 20th century. Using powerful rhetoric, Hitler was able to shatter the empathy domes of millions of his followers, as though he gave each a hammer, pointed to the relevant area on their Dome, and said 'We will smash it together!'”
David's eyes returned to blue and the holographic image vanished. “That was very informative, Gull.”
“What conclusions have you drawn from it, David?”
“It's nice to know that empathy has its roots in science. Maybe I'm not simple after all.”
“Anything else?” asked G
ull.
David met the SS officer's gaze. “Only that my own Empathy Dome is shattered all to hell … right above the area that contains Nazis.” Droplets of sweat spread across the SS man's brow. “I am just a tiny cog in a vast machine. I have no choice but to follow my orders.” David leaned forward in his chair, watching him. The SS officer pushed at his bindings. “What are you? What are you going to do to me?”
Thirty seven
David exited the barracks in the uniform of an SS officer and crossed the courtyard, carrying in his left hand a brown leather holdall that contained Anna. Behind him flames lapped at the barrack’s solitary window. He walked down a path that led into the camp's main floodlit courtyard. The sound of splintering glass was followed by an explosion and a fireball rose into the air. Glass and body parts rained down in his wake, and the head of the SS officer landed on the roof of the latrine where it rolled to a stop. The pillowcase stuffed back in its mouth.
Pandemonium broke out. Soldiers and camp personnel stumbled out of doors and ran in the direction of the explosion. David pulled the visor of his cap down, and crossed the main courtyard like he owned it and every son-of-a-bitch running through it. When he reached the other side, Gull told him to turn left just as the bell of a fire truck echoed off the red brick to his right. He was headed in the direction of the main gate. He did not look up at the watchtower, its spotlight now pointed towards the blaze. He turned right into a cul-de-sac and crossed to its left-hand side. Two women hurried in his direction, buttoning their uniforms as they passed. David entered the open door to Block 24, and once inside he took the stairs three at a time. He found himself in a grey corridor that contained a dozen doors, each of which was numbered. “Which room is she in, Gull?”
“Rooms 2, 5 and 12 also contain male occupants. Two of these are hurriedly dressing. Their appearance is imminent.”
“Which room?”
“Assessing body mass and heat signature, it could be either 9 or 10. Both women are alone.”
The door to room 9 had been locked from the outside. David shouldered it open, and inside a woman with red hair sat up in bed and averted her gaze. David pulled the door closed and shouldered his way into room 10, where a woman was standing on a stool below an improvised hook secured into the ceiling. She had tied a noose made from a bed sheet around her neck and was taking advantage of the emergency to hang herself. Her face was in shadow, and David stepped into the room for a closer look. The woman's eyes were begrudging and they asked him, “Are you really standing there? Now?”
“It’s not her,” said David. He closed the door, and removed his cap to expose his badly shaven head. He turned to face the woman, and in Polish he said, “I'm not a Nazi. I was brought here on a transport today. I'm looking for a woman who was brought here on the same transport. About five foot three. Very pretty. Dark shoulder-length hair.” The bag in David's right hand unzipped itself and Anna sat up like a wind-up toy. “It's true. We came on the train together.”
The woman wobbled on her stool and David apologised for the interruption. She broke into laughter and David did too, but did not understand why. He put the bag down and Anna stood up in it. To the young woman exiting this horror on her own terms Anna looked like someone in a grow-bag determined to outgrow it. She pulled the noose off her head and stepped down off the stool. She was slim, delicate and tall, almost as tall as David, with shoulder-length blonde hair that fell in ringlets about her face. Her eyes met David's and David's heart beat faster. He barely murmured, “I have no need for assistance, Gull.”
“No assistance has been rendered. As well as an unnecessary increase in heart rate, your pupils are dilating.”
The woman watched him quizzically. “I know her … the woman you mean. She was brought here with two others today. The Commandant chose her from our line-up earlier. She's not here.”
“Chose her for what?”
“No need to look so worried. She's to be his housekeeper – a job we all wanted. What do you want with her?”
“He wants to save her,” said Anna.
“Save her? Is he crazy?”
Anna shook her head. “He's a guardian angel. A real one.” The woman held her makeshift noose before her like an offering of incontrovertible proof. “I need a guardian angel.” They stared at one another. David's legs felt suddenly hollow. He felt ill at ease and a little out of breath. In the silence that followed Anna stepped out of the bag and asked the woman her name.
“Alix. What's yours?”
“Anna.”
Alix approached David. “And yours?” David's heart rate ratcheted up another notch for no reason he could fathom. He swallowed a lump in his throat. “It's David.”
“You aren't going to leave me here to kill myself, are you, David?”
David wiped the back of his hand across his brow. “The war will be over soon … in a few months the camp will be liberated.”
“You can't know that, and it only takes a matter of moments to be shot – which would be preferable to these animals raping and beating me … before they send me to the gas chambers.” She reached out and touched David's face. “You have a kind face. A good face.”
“We must leave now,” said Gull. “I have located the Commandant’s villa. It is on a hill to the west of our position and overlooks the camp.” David didn't answer, standing transfixed by the woman. Gull persisted, “She is dangerous. As well as affecting your vital signs, she is playing havoc with your judgement.”
“Then I suggest you keep a clear head for us both.”
Alix narrowed her eyes. “What?”
A distant explosion shook the window. “The fire has spread,” said Gull. “The added confusion can be used to our advantage. We must leave now.”
Alix placed a hand on David's heart. “You know you aren't going to leave this camp without me, don't you?”
“A single blow should be sufficient to neutralise her,” assessed Gull. David looked down at Anna. As though she'd read his thoughts, she lay back down in the bag and zipped it halfway up. David unbuckled the holster at his side and pulled out the pistol. “The sound of the weapon may draw unwelcome attention, David. But all things considered.”
David looked down and spoke as though to Anna. “I'm not going to shoot her. She's coming with us.”
David carried the bag in his left hand. In his right he held the pistol and Alix by scruff of her shirt. In this way he manhandled her out of the whorehouse and into the cul-de-sac. He hurried her through the main courtyard as though eager to find a spot to carry out an execution. No one paid them any attention; they were too preoccupied with the burning buildings on the other side of the courtyard. David followed Gull's directions to the top left-hand side of the courtyard. A sentry stood outside a gate, and as David approached he clicked his heels, raised a palm and turned and unlocked the gate. On the other side was a dirt road that climbed steeply and wound its way to the left. As they climbed it, the sound of shouting and mayhem grew more distant. “We are outside the main camp now,” said Gull. “An ideal place to release the woman and the girl. You have done your empathic duty to them.”
David stopped, and Alix looked at him. She was starting to believe this man could be her salvation. Her expression softened and she looked suddenly vulnerable. This did little to quell his confusion, and when he spoke he found that he did so quietly. “You're outside the camp. The woods are over there. You could make a run for it.”
Alix shook her head. David re-holstered his pistol, looking up past the wall of mud and clay on his left. He could see the roof of the Commandant's villa in the moonlight. Alix watched him. “That man is the devil incarnate.”
“The Commandant?”
“Yes. One of his balconies overlooks the camp. He uses it to shoot people for fun.”
“I doubt he'll be doing that for much longer. It's likely he's the one I'm here to kill.”
“Kill? I thought you were a guardian angel?”
“I never said that.”
/>
“You're an agent? An American?” A staff car rumbled up the hill behind them. David put down the bag and took out the revolver. He shoved Alix against the wall and pointed the gun at her head. “Something tells me you know how to plead for your life.” She did, and her performance as the car rolled past made his guts ache.
The Commandant's villa looked like an enormous log cabin on stilts, with two floors and an attic. Its solitary entrance was located at the top of a flight of steps, outside which two guards stood on sentry duty. David and Alix were crouched near the top of the road. Alix whispered, “If you want to get inside you'll have to kill them both.”
“Too disruptive. We'll go in through a window around the other side.”
“Really? Unless there's a ladder in this bag that won't be possible … what are you smiling about?”
“Your opinion on what's possible and what's not is about to be revised.”
They left the dirt track and stumbled into the rocky terrain that surrounded the villa. The windows on the first floor were lit at the front, and at the rear they were dark and reflected the moon. David and Alix were lying in a ditch thirty metres from the back of the villa. The stilts that held it aloft were three metres high, and the nearest darkened window another metre above that. They could hear faint voices, laughter and music. “Sounds like the Commandant is having one of his parties,” said Alix.
“While his barracks burn?”
“Yes, while his barracks burn. He much prefers a party to a hose.”
David reached into the bag and squeezed Anna's shoulder. She sat up and rubbed her eyes. David pinched her nose. “I'm going inside the house. I'll find something to lower from one of those windows to haul you both up. Just stay here until you see me.”
Alix glanced up past the stilts to the darkened windows. “See you what? … break your neck?”
“Always a possibility.”