by Pliss, Todd
“That is one of my favorite books too,” he said as he stood up and stretched. Other than the pain in his arm, he actually felt pretty good. He hadn’t been this rested in weeks.
Linda looked at Wayne and stated, “I have never in my life heard somebody snore as loudly as you.”
“You’re not the first one to tell me that,” Wayne said. “Can you get me to the Center of Aryan Studies?”
Linda sighed, “I think so. It’s possible from down here.”
“Are you ready to go now?” Wayne asked, not wanting to waste time.
“It amazes me how people used to live,” she said and put the book down.
“Not all people,” Wayne added, “just some.”
Linda stood up, “How’s the shoulder doing?”
“Sore, but okay. Linda, I’m sorry about last night,” Wayne apologized, “I just can’t do that to Lauren.”
“I don’t know what you are talking about,” she hesitated. “Come on.”
They journeyed through the maze of railroad tracks and twisted wreckage of platforms, trains, and ticket booths. Wayne recognized some of the grim sights as ones he had seen on the previous day. He paused briefly to take a cleaner pair of jeans and a button down shirt from a silent train passenger. After forty minutes of moving, Wayne stopped at the beginning of a long sewage tunnel. At the far end of it, a small glimmer of light from the outside world was visible.
“I’m going to take it solo from here,” Wayne said.
“Why?”
“Linda, you helped me more than I could ever have hoped. I’ll always be grateful to you for that. But it will be less risky for both of us if I finish what I need to do alone. I hope you understand.”
“I will miss you, Wayne.”
“I’ll miss you too,” Wayne said. “Remember, Linda, soon your life will change dramatically for the better and you will have no memory of being here. You’ll be married to some wonderful guy and you’ll be very happy.”
“That sounds nice.”
Wayne hugged Linda, “You take care of yourself, okay?”
Linda’s eyes teared up, “I will. I promise.”
Wayne planted a kiss on her cheek, “Goodbye.”
Linda watched as he walked away from her, towards the glimmer of light.
New Berlin City was covered with swastika banners, parade decorations and confetti. The streets were crowded with its Aryan citizens, all of who were dressed in some type of official Nazi garb
Wayne walked quickly across a street, careful to avoid making eye contact with anybody, and into a back service alley. He looked at the large plastic bags and boxes full of garbage waiting to be hauled off by the trash collector. On top of one of the big boxes was a large brimmed straw hat. It had seen better days, but was still wearable. Wayne grabbed the hat, dusted it off with his hands, and put it on his head. He continued walking through the alley and entered Goering Platz, one of the various sparkling clean public parks in the city.
On any given weekend, one could watch many different city adult and youth soccer teams practice their skills in the Platz. It was also a popular place for families to hold barbeques or picnics. Wayne could see, overlooking the square, tall buildings that were a part of the huge Center of Aryan Studies campus. CAS offered comprehensive undergraduate and graduate programs in medicine, anthropology, liberal arts, education, and political science. Every course had been approved by the Reich Commissioner of Education in Berlin and was taught with the “appropriate and true German facts.”
Wayne began to make his way towards the school. He noticed two Gestapo men walking towards him. He swiftly turned his head and pretended to be browsing in the window of a consumer electronics outlet. What he saw caught his eye.
A row of color televisions synchronously broadcast the same cartoon of a baseball team, each member dressed in a Nazi athletic uniform ready to play a ballgame. A player stepped up to the plate. But wait, he had no bat – and he could not find one! The player, drawn as a muscular, blond haired, blue-eyed type of Super Nazi, whistled to his Dog, a big German shepherd. The Super Nazi enacted a swinging motion, as if swinging a bat, with his strong arms. The loyal canine animal saluted his master and raced off. The Dog spotted what was obviously a caricature of an old Jewish man, with exaggerated Semitic features that included an oblong nose and Yiddish garb, which consisted of a yarmulke, flowing black robe, and sandals. The loyal Nazi Dog ferociously chased the man – only the Dog was running like a man on its hind legs, and the man like an animal on all fours. They passed a squirrel munching on an acorn, who held his nose as the Jewish man trotted by. They passed a truck with the words “CITY POUND” painted on it, which promptly started to follow the Dog chasing the man. The Jewish man looked behind him at the pursuer on his tail and POW! He smacked into an oak tree. The German Shepherd rambunctiously, with his sharp teeth, tore off one of the man’s legs and fled. The woman from the city pound, a young, bosomy, rosy-cheeked Aryan Specimen, tossed the robed elderly man into the back of her truck and drove off. The Dog arrived back at the baseball diamond with a human leg in his mouth and was patted on his head by his master for a task well done. Super Nazi took the leg and stepped up to the plate, swinging the limb as if it were a Louisville Slugger.
The Gestapo men uneventfully ambled by Wayne.
Wayne walked onto the campus. It was calm except for a small group of students sitting under the shade of a tree, talking amongst themselves. Wayne recognized none of the school buildings as he followed a campus path that ran along a line of mighty trees. Wayne thought about whether Dr. Hoffmann would be in her laboratory or not. He knew how much of a workaholic she was and came to the conclusion that, although it was a Reich holiday, chances were good that she would be in her lab, hard at work on some project as usual.
Wayne passed a three-story structure that had a striking gothic architecture. Below the building’s impressive pointed arch, a plaque read: REICH TEACHERS’ LEAGUE. The building housed the regional headquarters of the organization made up of teachers devoted to the ideals of National Socialism. High Nazi officials closely scrutinized the organization and it was mandatory that all teachers join it.
Coming upon a cluster of structures, Wayne had a feeling that he was nearing his destination. He looked at the name on a large building: “Engineering.” Wrong building. He walked, at a faster pace, the short distance to another cluster of buildings, and viewed the words, “Kukulstann Science Building”, on a sign at the front entrance at what appeared to be the cluster’s main building.
Wayne entered the unlocked science building. As he tiptoed through the building’s long, quiet hall, he glimpsed at the nameplates on the numerous classroom and laboratory doors. Nervous beads of sweat formed on his eyebrows as his mission neared accomplishment. He, at least once a minute, apprehensively touched the vial that sat in his pocket.
“Fuck,” he said to himself as he approached the end of the hallway. He glanced at the nameplate to his right.
“Berkerhofft.” He glanced at the nameplate to his left.
“Hoffmann.” Wayne was in ecstasy. He knocked on the wooden door. There was no answer. He pounded his fist against the door. Still nothing. He tried the knob.
It slowly turned; the door wasn’t locked. The time had come to stop dillydallying. Wayne bolted into Dr. Hoffmann’s laboratory and stopped short in his tracks, his mouth agape. Before him stood SS Captain Siegfried von Helldorf and five of his well armed Gestapo Nazis. Dr. Hoffmann was present, too. Two Gestapo men grabbed a hold of Wayne by his arms, showing no mercy in the way they handled him.
“Just as expected, my friend,” the SS Captain remarked, wearing a wide grin across his square jaw. “Ah, you underestimate the watchful eyes of the Reich Security Office, New Berlin Division,” He held up the letter that Wayne had sent to Dr. Hoffmann from Hollenburg.
“My, my, my, hero boy, were you not aware that all mail into my jurisdiction is checked for subversive and traitorous writings. Your treacherous m
ail stood out as a thorn in a lovely German rose garden would.” Von Helldorf slapped Wayne hard across the face.
Dr. Hoffmann spoke, “Wayne...”
“QUIET!” von Helldorf commanded her. He addressed himself to Wayne, “Or maybe you did not know that the Gestapo censors all mail. I had a strong feeling, hearing the all points bulletin at Oberkoblenz, and to where that vermin would go. Congratulations. Last night you killed some of the best trained men in the Reich.”
“That’s right – men.” Wayne boldly stressed. “They were men. Living, breathing, thinking, human beings.”
“And do not forget expendable,” the SS Captain countered. “Too bad you chose to rebel. I believe you could have had potential as one of my soldiers. It fascinates me, why, when the State provides everything for its citizens, when we have the perfect society, would some degenerates still choose to stir up trouble.”
Wayne let his thoughts be heard, “Yours is a society built on hate. You program children’s minds to hate anyone different from themselves, as you yourself were programmed. Your society is nothing but pathetic, mindless, soulless robots.”
“I will take that as a compliment,” von Helldorf said. He ordered one of his men, “Search him.”
Wayne squirmed as a Gestapo man frisked him from head to foot, praying for his precious cargo to not be found. It was, however, rapidly discovered and handed to the SS Captain. Wayne kept his gaze stuck on the vial.
Von Helldorf held up the tube of greenish compound and viewed it curiously. “Well, what do we have here? Drugs? I am not surprised that your kind is involved in such nonsense. It is perhaps these things that have warped your minds.”
Wayne’s knees began to shake, uncontrollable, as his nerves got the best of him.
On an impulse, his lips moved and he spoke, “Be careful with that. It’s not what you think.”
The SS Captain moved to within an inch of his captive and shoved the small glass bottle in Wayne’s face, “You are telling me to be careful with this? Why? Is this your next high?”
Wayne remained silent.
“I asked you something,” von Helldorf said gruffly.
Wayne timidly responded, “No.”
Captain von Helldorf dropped the vial, shattering it on the ground. The emerald glowing Gadolinium Crystals sizzled as they oozed onto the tiled floor, eating away at the tiles.
As he stood speechless, Wayne’s heart sank and a salty tear rolled down his cheek. His efforts had been in vain.
Dr. Hoffmann said, “Wayne, the time machine has been destroyed and I had nothing to do with that, I promise you.”
“I correctly expected that you would have aided this criminal again, as you have done in the past,” von Helldorf stated. “For such treason to the Reich, you will pay with your life.”
He drew his pistol and aimed it at the back of the professor’s head. He pulled the trigger. Tiny fragments of skull and brain tissue splashed onto the late Dr. Hoffmann’s messy desk.
“YOU MOTHER FUCKIN’ BASTARD!!” Wayne painfully screamed out and lunged toward von Helldorf. He was immediately restrained by the two hefty Gestapo men.
“No more outbursts,” von Helldorf raised his voice and whacked Wayne in the face with his metal club.
Like water from a faucet that had been turned on, blood began to pour down from Wayne’s mouth as his gums bled profusely. Wayne, right there and then, fully wanted to die. With no more time machine and no more Dr. Hoffmann, there was no more hope.
Wayne was handcuffed, hauled out of the science building, and tossed into a waiting Gestapo paddy wagon.
In the bare Gestapo jail cell, Erich had been listening skeptically to Wayne’s tale.
“So, there you have it,” his cellmate said upon finishing the telling of his long story. “You wanted to know how I ended up in this shithole and now I’ve told you. I hope you’re happy.”
The cellmates heard the clank of the cellblock’s bulky, steel entrance door as it opened. SS Captain von Helldorf and three of his men approached the indigent cell.
“Ah, at last the time is here,” von Helldorf snickered. “Your day of judgment, my friend, has arrived.”
Wayne shot back, “I’m not your friend, dirt bag.”
Von Helldorf returned, “Watching you hang in public will be delightful. Did he give you any information?”
“Nothing that made any sense,” Erich, suddenly speaking in a pronounced German accent. “Just some bullshit tale that he made up.”
He slapped Wayne hard, “That is for lying to me.”
The cell door was unlocked. Wayne was roughly escorted out of the cubical.
His hands handcuffed together painfully behind his back, Wayne was dragged by the Gestapo through the crowd lined streets that led into Grunder Platz. Citizens booed and the Hitler Youth pelted him with raw eggs and stones. An orchestra played German national music.
Wayne remained numb to what was happening around him until, out of the corner of his eye, amongst the sea of Germans, he caught someone’s eye.
“LAUREN, LAUREN! IT’S ME, WAYNE,” he cried out. The pretty, blond woman didn’t recognize him – they’d never met. Wayne broke down and babbled like a madman, “Lauren, don’t tell me that you’re a part of this fuckin’ nightmare! LAUREN...”
The girl, who had a petite silver swastika pinned to her sweater, turned to her friend and said, “That guy really is insane.” She hurled a stone at the prisoner, hitting him in the groin.
A gallows had been set up, to give an excellent view to all spectators, in the center of Grunder Platz, beside the large, pompous Adolf Hitler statue. Wayne would be perfect entertainment and propaganda tool for Victory Day.
Von Helldorf, well known to be populace of New Berlin City, had his prized possession placed in the middle of the gallows. Reich Marshal Ulrich and prominent provincial leaders stood beaming in front of the hanging apparatus. Fuehrer Goering had earlier, from the German capital of Berlin, rhetorically spoken the words of his grandiose Victory Day commemorative speech. Later, in the evening, there would be the annual, dazzling display of fireworks.
The masses of citizens quieted down when Reich Marshal Ulrich stepped up to the microphone of the public address system that had been set up for him as the city’s Grand Marshal of the Victory Day celebrations. “What you see here,” he said “my good people, is what the scum of our society looks like.” The vast quantity of the men, women, and children that made up his audience contemptuously hissed.
He continued to play on the crowd’s agitation, “This type of disobedient scum must be eliminated from the Reich. For crimes committed against the Reich in a manner that endangered your lives and the lives and well being of all fine citizens of the Fatherland, and for his betrayal of the Fuehrer’s ideals, this swine has forfeited his right to live.”
Ulrich, with a steel baton, struck the prisoner in the gut, causing him to double over in pain. The crowd roared its approval and applauded. Children of all ages, including some that still wore diapers, enthusiastically waved their little swastika flags in the air. The pretty girl that the captive thought he once knew clapped her hands together, as if applauding the performers in a superb play that had taken the stage one more time for an encore.
Ulrich paused, purposely letting the audience’s anticipation for his next sentence build. Finally, he said fervently, “I hereby sentence this filthy swine to death by hanging. To be carried out on this day here in Grunder Platz.” The sun’s bright rays bounced off his hairless head.
The crowd of Aryans cheered and began to repeatedly chant, “DIE, SCUM!”
“Herr von Helldorf,” Ulrich spoke as he signaled to the SS Captain to proceed with the amusement.
The SS Captain placed the noose around his foe’s neck. He got in Wayne’s face and said, “So long, you piece of shit.”
Wayne, his raw gums giving him a constant taste of his own blood, said, “At least I won’t spend eternity rotting in hell.”
“Every man cre
ates his own hell,” von Helldorf solemnly said. “You are about to enter yours.” He pointed a finger at the orchestra’s drummer. The drummer started playing an upbeat drumroll and the career SS Captain stepped back from his prize catch of the week.
The audience’s chanting became progressively stronger, “DIE, SCUM! DIE SCUM! DIE SCUM!”
Wayne looked out amongst the ocean of Nazi followers and felt pity and sorrow for them all. They didn’t know any better; they couldn’t have. Wayne caught a glimpse of one boy who chanted for his execution with an ardent, almost inhuman zeal. It was for the children that Wayne felt the deepest regret. The string of sweat that covered his once handsome face made his skin sparkle. He heard a Gestapo man take a hold of the gallows’ release cord. He had never been one for religion, and he thought no more of it standing there on the gallows with the noose tightly wrapped around his neck. What kind of Supreme Being would have let the world become what it has? The gallows’ trap door was released; the prisoner’s body dropped. The noose performed its deadly task for the Reich. Wayne’s last earthly thought was of his parents.
Pliss / Reich
CHAPTER TEN
Wayne Goldberg, United States Army Private stationed at Wright-Patterson Air Force Base, Ohio, jolted awake on the soft bed in his room on the seventh floor of the Kanter Special Units Building in a cold sweat, screaming in horror. He glanced in the direction of the unplugged television set against the wall; in his mind’s eye it broadcast a black and white documentary on the training techniques of Hitler’s elite soldiers, the Waffen-SS. Private Goldberg, dressed only in his underwear, scrambled out of bed, repeated the words, “NO, NO, NO!” and, with a running start, jumped through the room’s one window, shattering it.
Major Richard L. Smith and First Lieutenant Irwin H. Collins woken out of their deep sleeps by a code four emergency. They arrived at the Kanter Special Units Building within five minutes of one another. Standing outside of the nine-story building, with their heads tilted up, the military officers gazed at a broken window seven stories above them. Four yards away from where they stood, a limp body lay in silence.