Sun of the Sleepless

by Patrick Horne

  'What happened then?'

  'Ohh, Lala was pregnant after three years with my father, Rainer. The boy did not stay around, but later, she met a very nice man and she did marry him, my grandfather Klaus Krom; together they raised my father and lived very happy until the accident. My father met my mother Irene in 1970 and three years later I was born.'

  Jolene nodded politely but needed to get back onto the subject of The Vril Society Sisterhood and more importantly, any connection to the Sun of the Sleepless.

  'Do you think that your father ever discussed these things with Laila or Hanna?'

  'No, my father did not talk of things of that time, he grew up after but it was not a thing that people of that age like to speak of, they wanted to forget and move on.'

  'Would it be possible to speak with your father?'

  'No!' Paula emphatically replied, shaking her head.

  'My father is ill, he is away - how do you say the name? - Pflegeheim - a rest home. He must not speak of such things.'

  'Of course,' Jolene nodded reassuringly, 'but did Hanna or Laila ever specifically talk about the Sisterhood or about Maria?'

  'Yes, of course, many times, it is how I know so much. Großmutter Lala loved the Sisterhood; you know when Hitler came to power, and even before, there was many pressure for children to join the youth groups, the Hitler Jugend and Bund Deutscher Mädel, all the children were forced to enter into the approved groups, but the Sisterhood was protected but there was always pressure. They wore a uniform like the BDM so they were not - augenfällig.'

  'Obvious?'

  'Ja.'

  'What about Maria? Did Hanna or Laila ever speak about her, about her special classes?'

  Paula thought for a moment.

  'Laila, not so much, but I know all the girls loved Maria. She was not strict as you will think but very nice, you know entspannt?'

  'Relaxed or laid-back?'

  'Genau, I believe that she was not - brain-washed I think - by what was happening in Germany. She believed in strong values but not coming from the words of men, she looked around at nature and at the world, into the skies and she saw knowledge there and gave it to the girls. She had no hatred to other people and she had to be careful with the Nazis, but she was her own person, the girls had their own moral codes but did not speak of such things outside of the Sisterhood.

  'Hanna said that Maria did not like the Nazis but she had to work with them in order to protect the girls, she knew some very important people of the time so they could not be harmed. Hanna knew all of these things and the girls were teached very well in the school but I think that Lala was not good in class - not naughty - I mean she was not - schulisch. I remember that Lala told me even Hanna was not allowed to talk with the Aldebaran girls about their special classes. That was secret.'

  'Did they ever mention a special book?'

  'A book?' Paula frowned as she tried to remember. 'There were many books of course, but I think that you mean the Geheim Sonne - the Secret Sun, not so? It was called so by the Aldebaran but you know how girls will speak of secrets. I do not think that Lala ever read the book but Hanna knew of it but would not speak of it. I remember that she was angry with Lala one time when we visited and she spoke of things of the Sisterhood. Hanna liked to speak of the girls and good things but she did not speak of secrets. Here, I have a photograph of some of the Aldebaran girls - somewhere -'

  Paula leaned over the box and started rummaging as Jolene looked at Dale and raised her eyebrows.

  'Yes, here -'

  Paula handed over a sepia picture, creased in one corner and on the back was written the date of June 1942 and a list of names in neat cursive handwriting.

  Jolene took the picture and peered at the group in the image, twelve girls in their Vril Society Sisterhood uniforms arranged in three ranks. The middle rank of five was seated and the little girl in the centre was proudly holding a book on her lap which Jolene immediately recognised as Dirigo Lux, the gilt sun on the front cover clearly apparent. She flipped over the photograph to read the handwriting on the back to put names to faces.

  Standing at the right hand side was Hanna and on the left was the now older but unmistakeable figure of Maria Orsitsch, her long mane pulled back into an almost absurdly elongated pony tail and braided along its length in a criss-cross pattern of thick hair ropes. The girl holding the book could not have been more than eight or nine years old and was simply named as Adrianna.

  As Jolene looked at the picture, Paula drew a breath and frowned slightly.

  'Why do you ask me about Hanna?'

  Jolene looked up as Dale raised an eyebrow.

  'We are investigating a group that appears to be connected to the Sisterhood in some way.'

  'Yes, but you are not interested in the girls,' Paula answered drily. 'You want to ask about something else, not so?'

  Jolene returned the quizzical stare of Paula.

  'Something else? What do you mean? Is there something you think we should know?'

  'I have been asked about this before,' Paula sighed. 'Maybe two or three years ago, I do not remember the date, but a writer came and asked me many questions about Hanna before I told him to go. I thought he was also interested in the girls but he wanted to know about other things.'

  '- Such as?'

  'I remember flying saucers and strange music instruments and - what did he call it? - Die Glocke!'

  Dale's expression abruptly turned to surprise and he slowly looked to Jolene before clearing his throat and speaking to Paula.

  'Flying saucers I understood, but what does Die Glocke mean?'

  Paula's tone was immediately dismissive, 'It is a bell, like in a church, but I do not know of such things and he wanted to say Hanna was working for the Nazis so I told him to go. I was pleased to speak of the girls and how Hanna had cared for them but I will not hear of silly things that are not true.'

  Jolene broke the short silence that had ensued.

  'Do you remember his name, the writer that came to see you?'

  'Igor - Foley, or Farrell, no, Farley, yes, Farley. He was American. I remember that he had travelled here on his way to Poland. He said that he was researching a book and he had a copy of Maria's letter, not very good though, it could not be read easily. I did not show him my letter, he was speaking of strange things and so I asked him to leave. He was polite, but - verrückt, a little crazy I think - but, you are here now and talking of Hanna and Maria and asking questions and so I think there is a connection.'

  She raised her eyebrows and challenged both Jolene and Dale, looking at them expectantly before assuming a deadpan expression.

  Jolene felt the need to placate Paula's suspicions and tried to adopt a reassuring tone.

  'We do not know anything about flying saucers, but we think that there was a connection between Maria and a group of scientists that we are interested in.'

  Paula remained impassive and so Jolene decided to qualify her statement further so as not to offend her.

  'This all happened a good few years before the Nazis came to power, in the 1920's mostly, but we think that Maria knew some of the scientists and we're just trying to get an idea of what they were doing.'

  Paula rolled her eyes.

  'I do not much know of the scientists, you are saying almost one hundred years ago, Hanna was not a scientist, but Maria wanted the girls to learn about nature and science, she thought this are very important subjects. Hanna showed me things when I was little, how nature and - Mathematik, they are all connected.'

  'So you know nothing of the Wahrheitsgesellschaft, the Society for Truth?'

  Paula thought for a moment.

  'No, I know nothing of them, who are they?'

  'Well, we think that they were working on some new forms of technology, they may have been funded by the government during the war years.'

  Paula's tone became icy at even the hint of insinuation.

  'Ah, so you are talking of the Nazis again! Always it is the same! You
must ask the writer, Farley, such questions, I do not know. I only know of the good things Hanna was doing.'

  She glanced at her watch.

  'I think you must go now, I have many things to do before Herr Traum arrives this evening and I would like to spend some time relaxing.'

  She stood up to emphasise her point and stared at them intently.

  Jolene looked at Dale and nodded before standing, she turned to Paula and smiled.

  'Of course, I understand, you have been very helpful and you are right to be very proud of your great-grandmother, she clearly helped many girls to have a much better life in a very difficult time. Thank-you.'

  Paula nodded in mute acceptance of Jolene's verbal olive branch before turning and leading them to the front door, swinging it open and latently indicating to her visitors that it was very definitely time to go.

  As the door close sharply behind them, they marched down the paving of the front garden to the roadside path and started walking toward the car they had been issued with at the base, Jolene keeping just a step ahead so that Dale felt like a schoolboy tagging after his mother.

  'Where to now?' he asked irritably.

  'We drive back to the garrison at Wiesbaden; we can contact Langley and initiate some research on the writer that Paula Krom mentioned, Igor Farley. I'd like to speak to him, get some background on where his research led him.'

  'Isn't that a bit risky?' Dale frowned. 'He's going to think it's a bit strange that the CIA or even the FBI is contacting him about Nazi flying saucers. I don't think that even Jacqueline Lillard will be able to pull that off.'

  'Obviously,' Jolene intoned with a heavy hint of sarcasm, 'I'll get him to talk and he'll be none the wiser, I'll appeal to his greatest weakness.'

  'Which is?'

  'His ego of course,' Jolene drolly exclaimed, shaking her head, 'he's a writer isn't he?'

  As they reached their car, she blipped her keys and swung open the driver's door, quickly hopping inside and belting herself in as Dale scooted around to the passenger side to sombrely climb into the car.

  'We should talk to an expert, not just a writer,' Dale said as he settled himself in, tugging on the webbing of the seatbelt a couple of times as the inertia reel caught short.

  'I mean, somebody with a Ph.D or something.'

  'To discuss what?'

  'Well, I don't know; all the stuff that Jackson was on about, the Aether and what the scientists in the Society for Truth were up to. Paula Krom wasn't too keen to talk about it but I had the feeling that she knew more than she was letting on -'

  'Alright, so where do you suppose we can find a respectable professor who is willing to discuss the Nazi secret UFO programme and who is also willing to keep their mouth shut?'

  Dale though for a moment.

  'Jackson!'

  'Jackson?' Jolene intoned derisively. 'He deals in secret societies and political history. His knowledge of advanced physics is based on the theories of a bunch of conspiracy geeks and the ramblings of some eighteenth century alchemists who thought that they could convert lead into gold! It isn't exactly Nobel prize winning research.'

  He shook his head at Jolene's obtuse reaction to his suggestion.

  'Not Jackson as such, I mean that Jackson will know somebody. He can contact his boss and request a resource, that way we keep it contained within the OSC.'

  Jolene pursed her lips and looked straight ahead.

  'Well I'll do it then,' Dale grumbled, 'we need an official appraisal not just some writer's fantasy. I'll ask Jackson to speak with his boss.'

  Jolene realised that Dale would not let it drop.

  'Alright, fine. We'll get Jackson to make a call, just make sure that he knows that it all has to be contained, I don't want gossip about Nazi spaceships and aliens floating around the canteen at Langley.'

  'Yes Ma'am!' Dale answered sharply, but as Jolene opened her mouth to respond her phone began to trill from inside her jacket pocket.

  'Are you going to answer that?' Dale asked with an expression of innocence on his face.

  Jolene thrust her hand into her jacket pocket and withdrew her cell phone, placing it to her ear as a frown appeared to crease her forehead.

  'Lovell!'

  Dale watched her as she listened to the caller, the muted voice emanating from the earpiece quite audible but also unintelligible. She caught his eyes a couple of times, simply uttering a few perfunctory grunts and making a couple of short affirmations. He could not tell whether she was receiving good or bad news and it irked him that she was still keeping him in the dark, preferring to converse in stifled monosyllables than to engage in a two-way conversation that could give away the subject matter as he listened to her.

  Jolene took a breath and she appeared to be winding up the call, preparing to speak in full sentences.

  'Very good Sergeant, make sure that Deputy Director Kappel is updated immediately, I am sure that he will let us know once he has spoken with the British - Yes - We're driving back to Wiesbaden now; we should easily be there within the hour - Yes - In the mean time, look into an Igor Farley, male, possibly an American citizen, it could be India Golf Oscar Romeo or Yankee Golf, I'm not sure, he's a writer and may have authored a book on Nazi flying saucers - Yes, I know - Also, I need a full face spoof, maybe a reporter for a reputable daily paper, something like that, definitely in the media, also, check in on Jackson and see what the situation is with Oliver - Yes - Thank-you Sergeant.'

  Jolene rang off and put the phone back into her pocket.

  'Good news?' pondered Dale.

  Jolene smiled.

  'Langley has identified our abductors from previous immigration records, a Rey Faber and Kate Akosua, both British nationals. They will be sending a more detailed report for us to Wiesbaden. My guess is that Kappel will contact the British security services to get further information, but this means we are a real step closer to this group.'

  'If they're involved,' Dale shrugged, 'I mean, we don't know that everything is connected, do we?'

  Jolene exhaled an incredulous gasp.

  'You're kidding, right? They abducted Gertrude Verker and the Akosua woman gave you a damn good beating! Was that was all a coincidence? They are the Sun of the Sleepless; they're connected to it at the very least. We find them, we find our terrorists.'

  Dale jutted out his bottom lip and nodded.

  'You forgot to ask Stanley to get in contact with Jackson's boss.'

  Jolene started the car and selected drive.

  'I didn't forget anything Dale. You can do it once we get to Wiesbaden.'

  She turned to him and looked pointedly.

  'I have a meeting with the CO of our support battalion, you can wait at the house for Jackson and Oliver to turn up as I'm sure that they'll both want some tea and sympathy and since you were assaulted earlier I am sure you can empathise with them. You can discuss candidates for your scientist then.'

  As Jolene and Dale pulled away from the kerb, a man wandered somewhat inconspicuously along the pavement at the front of the house where Paula had just received her guests.

  He glanced around and then hurriedly walked up the garden path towards the front door but at the last moment he dodged away to the large window of the room where Jolene and Dale had conducted their interview. Reaching out, he plucked a small rubber-suckered dart from the glass, hastily returned to the front door and posted a leaflet advertising shopping bargains at a local store through the letterbox.

  Calmly turning about and walking back towards a car that had been parked further along the quiet residential road, he surveyed his surroundings for a twitch of curtains or an interested dog walker before opening the front passenger door and sliding into the seat.

  'Are we all set then?' he asked.

  The woman who was sitting in the rear of the car took out her earphones and laid them on top of an aluminium suitcase next to her.

  'All set, back to Wiesbaden I guess,' she said as she fumbled with the hand-held laser audio
microphone unit she had been using to listen in to the conversation between Jolene and Dale in their own vehicle.

  'Here,' the man grunted as he passed back the small dart radio microphone that he had retrieved from the front window of the house, put that in the case.'

  There was a slight pause before the man turned to the driver and pulled out a mobile phone.

  'Alright, let's get back to the base, I'll contact the Senator and let him know that Rey and Akosua have been identified, he wanted to be informed immediately.'

  The driver nodded, started the engine and began to drive away.

  Chapter XVI

  Get the kettle on -

  Rey glanced down at the dashboard clock and inwardly cursed himself; the time was already coming up to ten o'clock on Sunday morning and he and Akosua were at least five hours behind schedule - he could console himself with the fact that they were nearing their final destination. The ex-Army Land Rover Defender 110 they were travelling in was coping with the compacted snow and ice on the roads of Scotland without any trouble, but they had spent far too long at Dumfries, Rey himself electing to take a small break after the long and tiring journey from The Netherlands to Colchester to the supply depot on the Heathhall industrial estate. He had managed to grab around three hours of sleep at the warehouse; however, a good portion of the time had been spent in loading up some extra equipment and munitions that, considering events, Rey felt was now appropriate.

  The whole trip up to Scotland had been rather laborious even though there had been few other vehicles on the roads to cause any traffic delays. Although Akosua had offered to take over the driving when they reached the halfway point of the spine of England, she had soon fallen into a deep sleep and Rey had decided to let her nap, knowing that she would be spending more time in physically active duties once they arrived at the farmhouse. The real problem had been the weather, which ominously closed in after their successful parachute landing into a field in Essex. Provided with an old Renault Mégane by their contact party they had almost immediately set off from their drop zone, heading for the Scottish border some three hundred and fifty miles away by road and intent on beating the oncoming snowstorms.