“Hmph. High praise from you, Rudi.” The General sucked on his pipe, staring downslope, imagining ranks of yankees and knickerbockers charging up. “It had better be. But you did not ride out here from Fox Gap only to answer an old man’s foolish questions.”
“No, General.”
Schneider stared at him and the smile died on his face. He put his arm around Knecht’s shoulder and led him off to the side. The others eyed them nervously. When scouts and generals talked the result was often trouble.
“What is it?”
“Friedrich O Brien has returned from the Nations.”
“And?”
“The League has voted six to two to join the alliance against us.”
They paced together in silence. Then Schneider said, “So, who held out?”
“Huron and Wyandot.”
The General nodded. He released Knecht’s shoulder and walked off by himself. He turned and gave a hollow laugh. “Well, at least some of our money was well spent. In the old days, it would have been enough. League votes would have had to be unanimous. Do you think they will fight? The two holdouts, I mean.”
“Do you think they will split the League, General, over Pennsylvania?”
“Hmph. No. You are right again. They will go with the majority. But, perhaps, the fighting on the west will be less, what? Enthusiastic?”
“At least it is too late in the year for an offensive.”
“Perhaps, Rudi. But the crops are in. If they think they can knock us out in a lightning-war before the snows, they may try anyway. How long can they hold their alliance together? It is unnatural. Yankees and knicks and long-housers side by side? Pfah! It cannot last. No, they must strike while they have Virginia with them, as well. What do you think? A holding action along the Fortress Line while the Lees strike up the Susquehannah and Shenandoah?”
“Will Virginia bleed for New York’s benefit?”
Schneider nodded. “A two-front war, then.” He rubbed his hands together briskly. “Well, our strategy is clear. We must stir up problems behind them. In New England or Carolina or Pontiac. Make them look over their shoulders. And perhaps we have a few surprises of our own.”
Knecht looked at him sharply. Schneider was smiling. It was a small smile, but it was a real one, not forced. “What are you talking about?”
Schneider pointed to the wires running from the outpost to the Fortress. “Suppose there were no wires to be cut or tapped. Suppose there were voices in the air, undetectable, sent from anywhere a man could carry an instrument. We would not need messengers or pigeons, either. Think how quickly we could learn of enemy formations and mobilize our own forces to meet them. The right force in the right time and place is worth regiments a mile away and a day late. Imagine airplanes, darting among the airships with machine guns and bombs. We could carry the fighting all the way to Wilkes-Barre and Painted Post.”
“Kelly.”
“Ja.” The General chuckled. “Vonderberge tells me of these gadgets, like radio. Crazy notions. But I wonder. What if they were true? Kelly’s waking mind does not remember the details of the sort of, hmph, primitive inventions we could hope to copy. And from your report I suspect he would not help us willingly. Oh, he is friendly enough; but he does not like the military and would not help us prepare for war. Especially a war none of his concern. A problem. So, I seize the moment.” He clenched his fist and waved it.
“You pass along the information to Ochsenfuss and ask him to find the details by prying in his unconscious mind.”
Schneider looked at him. “You knew?”
“I guessed.”
“You never guess. You’re offended.”
“No.”
“You are. But I had to leave you out. You would have cut to the truth too quickly. I knew you. If you found that Kelly was mad, well, no harm done; but I was speculating that he was just what he said he was. If that were the case, I could not allow you to prove it.”
“Why not?”
“Ochsenfuss, that old plodder. He will not mesmerize except for medical reasons. If you had proven Kelly was, well, Kelly, our friend the Hexmajor would have bowed out and Kelly’s secrets would have remained secret. No. I needed Ochsenfuss’ skill at mesmerizing. I needed Vonderberge’s enthusiasm for technofiction, so he would know what questions to ask. And, for it to work, I needed Kelly’s status to remain ambiguous.”
“Then the Hexmajor does not know.”
“No. He is our protective plumage. I read his reports and send them to a secret team of scientists that OKP has assembled at Franklin University. Only a few people at OKP know anything. Only I, and now you, know everything.”
Knecht grunted. Ochsenfuss did know. At least he knew something. His remarks at the officers’ club had made that clear.
“Vonderberge said we lack the tools to make the tools to make the things Kelly described.”
“Then Vonderberge is short-sighted. Pfah! I am no fool. I don’t ask for the sophisticated devices. Those are years ahead. Decades. But the original, basic inventions… As Kelly described it, they came about in a world much like our own. And, Rudi?”
“Ja, Herr General?”
“This morning I received word from Franklin. They have sent telegraphic messages without wires between Germantown and Philadelphia. They used a special kind of crystal. The pulses travel through the air itself.” He grinned like a child with a new toy.
Knecht wondered how much difference such things would make in the coming war. There wasn’t time to make enough of them and learn how to use them. He also remembered what Ochsenfuss had said in the officers’ club. Something had to break. The question was what. Or who.
Knecht took a deep breath. “It’s over, then. You’ve learned how to make radio messages. Ochsenfuss can stop treating him.”
Schneider would not meet his eyes. “The mesmerization must continue. There are other inventions. We need to know about airframes. The details are sketchy yet. And napalm. And...”
“Between Ochsenfuss and Vonderberge, Kelly’s personality is being destroyed. He hardly remembers who he is, or which world is real.”
“In war there are casualties. Even innocent ones.”
“It is not Kelly’s war.”
“No. But it is yours.”
Knecht’s mouth set in a grim line. “Ja, Herr General.”
“You make it look so easy,” said Vonderberge.
“Shh,” hissed Knecht. He twisted his probe once more and felt the bolt slide back. “These old-style locks are easy, and I’ve had much practice.” He pulled the storeroom door open and they stepped inside.
“Schneider will know you did it. Who else has your skill with locks?”
Knecht scowled. “Every scout and ranger in the Corps. But, yes, Schneider will know it was me.”
Vonderberge began searching the shelves. “Does that bother you?”
Knecht shrugged. “I don’t know. It should. The General has been...like a father to me.”
“Here it is,” said Vonderberge. He stepped back, Kelly’s rucksack in his hands. He looked inside. “Yes, the belt controls are here also. I don’t think anyone has touched it. Schneider has the only key.”
“Do you suppose it still works?”
Vonderberge’s hands clenched around the straps. “It must.”
They crossed the parade ground to the brig. It was dark. Knecht felt that he should dart from cover to cover; but that was silly. They were officers and they belonged here. They took salutes from three passing soldiers. Everything was normal.
The night guard in the cell block shook his head sadly when he saw them coming. “In the middle of the night, sir?” he said to Vonderberge. “Hasn’t the poor bastard spilled his guts yet? Who is he, anyway?”
“As you said, soldier,” Vonderberge answered. “Some poor bastard.”
While the guard unlocked the cell door, Vonderberge hefted the rucksack, getting a better grip. He stroked the canvas nervously. Knecht could see beads of perspirat
ion on his forehead.
Well, he’s risking his career, too, he thought.
“We will never have a better chance, Rudi,” Vonderberge whispered. “Kelly was very clear this morning when I told him what we proposed to do. He had already calculated settings several days ago, using his new ‘formula.’ He only needed to update them. I arranged a diversion to keep Ochsenfuss away from him, so he has not been mesmerized in the meantime. Tomorrow and he may relapse into confusion once more.”
“As you say,” said Knecht shortly. He was not happy about this. For Knecht, his career was his life. He had been army since his teens. A scout, and a good one; perhaps the best. A scout observes and listens and pieces things together. He does not initiate action. How many times had he said that over the years? He had said it to Kelly. Why should he break his code now, for a man he hardly knew?
Knecht didn’t know. He only knew that it would be worse to leave Kelly where he was. An obligation? Because I brought him here? Because of what we might learn from him?
Perhaps I could have argued Konrad into this, he thought. And perhaps not. And if not, there would have been a guard on that storeroom door, and restricted access to the prisoner, and so I have to do this by night and by stealth.
The guard came suddenly to attention. Knecht looked around and saw Ochsenfuss entering the corridor from the guardroom. Vonderberge, already stepping inside the cell, saw him, too. He grabbed Knecht’s shoulder. “Talk to him. Keep him out until it’s too late.”
Knecht nodded and Vonderberge pulled the door shut. Knecht had a momentary glimpse of Kelly, rising from his cot fully dressed. Then the door closed and Ochsenfuss was at his side. The guard looked at them and pretended to be somewhere else. Knecht wondered what he would say to the Hexmajor that would keep him out.
“Up late, Herr Doctor,” he said. Clever, Rudi. Very clever.
“Insomnia,” was the reply. “A common malady, it seems. You might ask who is not up late, whiling away the hours in the guardhouse. Do you have a cigar?”
The request caught Knecht by surprise. Dumbly, he took out his pocket humidor. Ochsenfuss made a great show of selecting one of the cigars inside. Knecht took one also and offered one to the guard, who refused.
“Fire?” Ochsenfuss struck a match for Knecht, then lit his own. After a moment or two, he blew a perfect smoke ring. “I had an interesting experience today.”
“Oh?” Knecht glanced at the guard, who decided this would be a good time to patrol the outside of the building.
“Ja. I had a message from Outpost 10. The farthest one. One of the men was behaving oddly. Confinement mania, perhaps. But when I arrived, no one knew about the message. Or, more precisely, no one acknowledged knowing about the message. Odd, don’t you think?”
“A hoax.” Dimly, through the door, Knecht could hear a low-pitched hum. The floor seemed to be vibrating, ever so slightly. He thought he could detect a faint whiff of ozone in the air. He studied the doctor’s face, but saw no sign of awareness.
“Certainly a hoax. But to what purpose? Simply to laugh at the foolish doctor? Perhaps. But perhaps more. I could see but two possibilities. The message was to make me do something or to prevent me from doing something.”
Knecht nodded. “That does seem logical.” The night air was cool, but he could feel the sweat running down his back, staining his shirt. The humming rose in pitch.
“Logic is a useful tool,” Ochsenfuss agreed inanely. “As nearly as I could tell, the only thing the message made me do was to ride down the Mountain and back up. That did not seem to benefit anyone.”
“Is there a point to this, Herr Doctor?” Knecht felt jumpy. Abruptly, the humming rose sharply in pitch and dropped in volume, sounding oddly like the whistle of a railroad train approaching and receding at the same time. Then it was gone. Knecht suppressed the urge to turn around. He swallowed a sigh of relief.
“What remains?” Ochsenfuss continued. “What was I prevented from doing? Why treating Kelly, of course. And who has been my opponent in the treatment? The Festungskommandant. So, since my return, I have been watching.”
Knecht took the cigar from his mouth and stared. “You spied on me?”
Ochsenfuss laughed. A great bellow. He slapped Knecht’s shoulder. “No, I pay you a high compliment. No one could watch you for long without you becoming aware of the fact. No, I followed Vonderberge. When you met him at the storeroom, I retired. It was obvious what you intended to do.”
Knecht flushed. “And you told no one?”
Ochsenfuss sucked on his cigar. “No. Should I have?” He paused and pointed the stub of his cigar at the cell door. “He’s not coming out, you know.”
“What? Who?”
“Your friend, Vonderberge. He’s not coming out. He’s gone.”
Knecht turned and stared at the door. “You mean he took the equipment and left Kelly behind?”
“No, no. They left together. If they stayed close, if they hugged, they would both be inside the field.”
“Guard!” bellowed Knecht. “Open this door!” The guard came pounding down the corridor. He unlocked the door and he and Knecht crowded inside. The cell was empty. Knecht saw that Ochsenfuss had not bothered to look. The guard gave a cry of astonishment and ran to fetch the watch-sergeant. Knecht stepped out and looked at the doctor.
The doctor shrugged. “I told you he would reject reality if he could.”
“Explain that!” Knecht pointed to the empty cell.
Ochsenfuss blew another smoke ring. “He ran from reality.” With a sudden motion, he kicked the cell door. It swung back and banged against the wall. “This is reality,” he said harshly. “Vonderberge has fled it. How else can I say it?”
“Obviously, the other worlds are no less real. The evidence is there, now.”
“What of it? It is the flight that matters, not the destination. What if the next world fails to please him? Will he reject that reality as well?”
A squad of soldiers came pelting from the guardroom. They pushed past Knecht and Ochsenfuss and crowded into the cell. Their sergeant followed at a more majestic pace.
“How long have you known,” Knecht asked Ochsenfuss, “that the other worlds were real?”
Ochsenfuss shrugged. “Long enough.” He laughed. “Poor, dull-witted Ochsenfuss! He cannot see a fact if it bit him on the nose.” The Hexmajor’s lips thinned. “Granted, I am no physical scientist, but what Kelly said went against everything I had ever read or heard. Later, I came to know I was wrong.” Another shrug. “Well, we grow too soon old and too late smart. But I ask you, why did Vonderberge believe? He was correct from the beginning, but he believed before he had any proof. He believed because he wanted to believe. And that, too, is madness.”
“And Schneider?”
“Schneider never believed. He was making a bet. Just in case it was true. He was playing games with my patient!”
Knecht could see genuine anger now. The first real emotion he had ever seen in the Hexmajor. He saw the General for a moment through the doctor’s eyes. It was a side of Konrad he did not care for.
They spoke in an island of calm. Around them soldiers were searching, looking for tunnels. Schneider would be coming soon, Knecht realized. Perhaps it was time to leave, to postpone the inevitable. He and the doctor walked to the front of the guardhouse but they went no further than the wooden portico facing the parade ground. There was really no point in postponement.
Knecht leaned on the railing, looking out over the parade ground. A squad of soldiers marched past in the dusk: full kit, double-time. Their sergeant barked a cadence at them. Idly, Knecht wondered what infraction they had committed. Across the quadrangle, the Visiting Officers’ Quarters were dark.
“So why, after you knew, did you continue to treat him?” He looked over his shoulder at the doctor.
Ochsenfuss waved his hands. The glowing tip of his cigar wove a complex pattern in the dark. “You read his journal. Do you really suppose he has found his way home
this time? No, he goes deeper into the forest of time, hopelessly lost. And Vonderberge with him. Six worlds he has visited already and in what? In three of them, he was in danger. The next world may kill him.”
“But...”
“Tchah! Isn’t it obvious? He was driven to try. He had friends, family. His darling Rosa. Left behind forever. He could not bear the thought that he would never, ever see her again. How could he not try? How could he not fail? With me he had a chance. I saw it and I took it. If I could make him accept this world as the only reality, forget the other, then he might have adjusted. It was a daring thing to try.”
Knecht looked back out at the parade ground. There had been a fourth possibility, after all. A refugee, but one slowly going mad. Lightning bugs flashed in the evening air. “It was daring,” he agreed, “and it failed.”
“Yes, it failed. His senses worked for me: everything Kelly saw and heard told him this world was real; but in the end there were too many memories. I could not tie them all off. Some would remain, buried under the false ones, disturbing him, surfacing in his dreams, eventually emerging as psychoses. I restored his memories, then. I could do no more to help him, so I made no effort to stop you.”
Knecht’s mind was a jumble. Every possible action was wrong. Whether Kelly had been the person he claimed to be, or a madman, Schneider had done the wrong thing. Ochsenfuss had been wrong to try and obliterate the man’s true memories. As for himself, all he and Vonderberge had accomplished was to turn him out into a trackless jungle. Oh, we all had our reasons. Schneider wanted defense. Ochsenfuss wanted to heal. Vonderberge wanted escape. And I...Knecht wasn’t sure what he had wanted.
“We could have kept him here, without your treatment,” he told Ochsenfuss. “So the General could have learned more.” Knecht was curious why the doctor had not done that.
As if on cue, the door of the VOQ burst open. Knecht could see Schneider, dressed in pants and undershirt, framed in its light. Schneider strode toward the guardhouse, his face white with rage and astonishment.
The Forest of Time - Hugo Nominated Novella Page 6