Chapter 7
When the advisor arrived from South America, Ada was officially installed in the huge office off the main foyer of the mansion. Not only was she the sovereign ruler of all she surveyed, but much, much more. She was today the leader of the entire Nazi movement; and tomorrow-the world.
The office had previously been occupied by Baron Kurt Von Kemp, but he lost his position as school commandant as well as his role as Ada's husband. But she didn't permit the experiment so ingeniously devised by Dr. Rosch. At first the idea delighted her, but once she felt the power of her throne, a strange spirit of noblesse oblige pervaded her consciousness.
The compassion was not for the baron, not at all, but for Gerda, the simple-minded servant. To be old was not sufficient cause for punishment, and to inflict pain for pleasure was a product of her aimless past. There were more important matters to be considered-to dwell upon to the exclusion of all others.
So she deposited Kurt in the sub-level catacombs, and relegated Gerda to the barracks detail, where she would be out of sight. Kurt would have his punishment, but she would give him some time to worry about it.
In the meantime, Ada was no fool when it came to Dr. Rosch. It was soon evident that he would take advantage of her. The fool believed that his sexual expertise would put him in the political favor of his leader.
This was foolish of him, of course, but for the moment she would feed him the rope with which he would eventually hang himself. She needed him and all the others who were in key positions, but at the proper moment all of them would discover that they had a leader in more than name only.
Was it overzealous of her to look ahead a few years? She thought not. Herr Bormann honored her with new power, so who was to say she should step aside when Bormann was gone. She would mark time and be watchful.
In the meantime, from the reports she had read, Bormann was 67 years old. His face was puffy and florid, his paunch was booze bloated. As far as she could see, he was drinking himself into an early grave. She would gladly follow his command while he lived, but who could say how long that would be?
When he appeared in the flesh, she would appraise him further. If he seemed healthier than she anticipated, Dr. Rosch might prove to be of help to her. A single jab of a hypodermic needle could do it.
But these were things she would have to ponder, and she must not be impatient. She had waited too long for recognition to negate everything by impetuosity.
Ada was highly keyed on the day Christine Lavie was delivered to the island. This would be her first official assignment, and she was determined to carry it out without incident. Her orders were to secure the formula from the French woman without delay, and to have the material in production by the time the South American party members congregated at the island. The date for the latter meeting had not been designated for security reasons, but it would be soon. For that reason, Ada was determined to work fast and efficiently.
She ordered Dr. Rosch to bring the woman to her office the moment she awakened from her narcotic sleep. So far the plot had worked miraculously, and that was a good omen. The woman had met with the party representative in Oslo to discuss a price for the formula. But terms had never been discussed. Because the social drink preceding the talk had been so heavily drugged the woman had fallen into somnambulistic slumber almost at once. She had been flown to the island and would eventually awaken in a castle bedroom that was both locked and barred.
Perhaps the woman would be indignant, and would almost surely demand an outrageous price, but Ada was prepared for this. If the woman would accept one million dollars in gold certificates, the transaction would be made. If her price was higher, other means would be instituted to aid in the bargaining.
Now Ada was becoming impatient. It was after eight o'clock and dark outside, and she had taken to pacing the carpeted floor. She had been told the prisoner would awaken much earlier than this.
The office hadn't been changed appreciably for Ada's occupancy. The mammoth hand-carved desk faced the door. The giant Nazi flag was on the wall behind it. There was a long leather couch against one walnut paneled wall, and two leather chairs faced the desk. There was a water closet off to the side, and a bar that opened in the paneling of another wall. She had admired the office when Kurt had occupied it, so she could see little reason for change-except for one item. It was the curious lamp that decorated the long carved table below the book shelves. When Dr. Rosch laughingly told her what the shade was made of, she angrily ordered it removed.
Dr. Rosch was displeased with her anger, but she didn't care. She simply could see neither humor- nor the least intrinsic beauty-in a lamp shade that was fashioned from the skin of concentration camp victims. She hoped decisions didn't suggest softness on her part, but her hand was firm.
This episode marked the initial decline of affection toward Rosch. His true color had begun to show. More and more he had related concentration camp torture techniques, and something in his nostalgic pleasure repelled her. It made sex with him all but impossible. She had the feeling he was measuring her buttocks for a lamp shade.
She looked into the mirror above the table and adjusted her tie. She smiled harshly at her image. She would prefer her leather to this silly Nazi uniform, but this was a day for business and her image was of great importance.
There was a uniform with accompanying skirt, but this again wasn't for her. She instead wore the pants she had designed that fitted her body stunningly. She wore jack boots, too. She might look a bit masculine, especially with her hair drawn back in its twin buns, but who was to complain? She felt majestic and comfortable. If she were to assume a man's job, she should dress for the part. In her own quarters she could dress any way she desired-as long as it was done with the proper persons, but on the job she must exude strength.
One source of discontent was her denial of the erotic games with her underlings. She was too much above their rank now. She supposed she could sneak in a game or two at some later date, but first she must allow her stature to steep into everyone's mind.
As she was losing herself in introspection, a knock sounded at the door. It was Rosch. She gave the command to enter, and was asked if she wanted to see the French scientist, who had awakened moments earlier.
"Of course I want to see her," she snapped. "I said I wanted to see her delivered the moment she awakened."
"As you wish, my leader. I'll have her brought down. Shall I join you in the interview?"
"No-if I need you, I will ring. First allow me to establish an acquaintance. Then I will decide which track to use."
"We took the liberty of sending the message of her arrival," said Rosch, pausing at the door. "Our second message will be expected within twenty-four hours, I suppose."
"Wait!" she said, halting him. "You took this liberty without my permission ? How dare you ? I thought I was in command."
There was a trace of arrogance in Rosch's smile. "That is true, my leader. But there are certain orders I had been given before-from Herr Bormann. This was one of them. I was to announce the moment of her safe arrival, and then the moment of our success."
Ada was burning with internal anger, but she fought it down. She would save her contempt. This was not the time. "Bring the woman."
Ada had no preconceived notion of the French woman's physical appearance. She supposed that she expected to see a large woman of considerable age. One that was angry and demanding. The tiny French beauty that was brought to her was a total surprise.
Two uniformed guards escorted the girl, and placed her on the couch. At Ada's orders they withdrew, closing the door behind them. The scientist had soft brown hair of shoulder length, and very sensitive features. She was small and delicate, but her short skirt showed beautifully sculpted legs. She wore a white blouse that revealed a tiny waist, but full, protruding breasts. She was disheveled from travel and sleep, and her hair was falling over her face as she leaned forward to support her head with her hand.
"Good evening," said Ada finally. She stood above the lovely woman. "I am surprised at what I see."
The woman looked up, and tried to bring her large brown eyes into focus. "What will you do to me? Where am I?"
"You're safe," Ada assured, seating herself beside the woman. "We had to give you something to keep our location a secret, but soon you will feel well."
The brown eyes squinted, and seemed to come into focus. "Who in the world are you?" she asked incredulously.
"Do you find me grotesque?" Ada asked resentfully.
The woman shook her head wearily. "It's like a dream, is all. How long have I been asleep?"
Ada looked at the square clock on the wall. "I would say about twenty hours. It's no wonder you feel groggy. You're weak from hunger."
"Yes-I'm starved-and terribly thirsty."
"I have an idea," said Ada. "I haven't had dinner either. Suppose we go to my quarters and dine. We can discuss business afterward."
The woman sighed and nodded weakly. Ada rose to help her to her feet. She supported her on their long walk to the upstairs room. When they were comfortable in the sitting room, Ada ordered dinner with champagne. While they waited, Ada fixed a Scotch and soda for both of them. "Here," she said, handing over the highball. "One drink should help. I think it is best to go easy though-until you have eaten at least."
There was very little conversation between them before dinner. The woman was regaining her energy, but was less determined to demand knowledge of her whereabouts. She seemed willing to make the best of her own error. Actually, her demeanor disarmed Ada. She was certain she would face the wrath of an indignant egoist. But such was far from the case. It proved to Ada that in her new position she would be a fool to presuppose anything. She must keep flexible, poised, and open minded.
She liked this gentle creature and was mystified by her. How could a woman so young and so beautiful gravitate toward the cold world of science. But more puzzling: how did she justify her mercenary attitude? Ada wanted to ask all these questions, but for the moment she settled for one. "How old are you, Mademoiselle? I must ask."
Her guest managed a faint smile. "Twenty-nine."
Ada nodded silently, looking again at the lovely legs that were crossed gracefully. Then dinner was served.
As they dined, Ada established a first name relationship with Christine. She explained she was the representative for the Nazis and was authorized to bid for the formula. This seemed to satisfy Christine. After Ada's apology for the unorthodox treatment in the interest of security, Christine seemed even friendly.
The wine brought the visit to a friendly glow, but the brandy afterwards produced an even greater effect. It brought Christine out of her taciturn shell and made Ada practically giddy. The acquisition of the chemical formula became the farthest thing from Ada's mind.
Ada had been so isolated all her life, and recently over the last few days, she had been without the usual camaraderie afforded by her subordinate acquaintances. With Christine's visit came an opportunity to relate to somebody. Ada took full advantage of the circumstance.
"You must tell me about France," she said when they were both seated on the long, comfortable sofa. "Paris, especially. It must be beautiful, exciting."
"You've never visited Paris?" Christine said in astonishment.
"I've never been anywhere," Ada answered forlornly. "We're on a tiny island now, and that is my life. Many years ago I was flown over Oslo, and I was desperate to land and simply walk the streets, but it was forbidden."
"Amazing," said Christine.
"Is it that amazing?" Ada asked. "I imagined there were many others like myself-who have been prisoners of position."
"The amazing factor is our common ground," Christine corrected. "I was hidden in a convent until I was sixteen. Then my guardians married me off to a monster of a man. He was a retired American colonel who wanted nothing more than the Pyrenees hillside. With my usual lack of courage it's a miracle, I guess, but I ran away to Austria. The first protection I was offered was snatched up fearfully. Again I was imprisoned. This time by a middle-aged scientist. His laboratories were secreted in the Alps, and his sympathies were decidedly communistic. It was here that my skills were developed, though. My husband-not really my husband, but my master you could say-was in love with my mind. He called me a genius."
"Did you run away with your formula?" Ada asked in fascination.
"My husband died and I was free. I was left no money, but I did have my discovery. I am using it to pave the way to a new life. I feel I am at least ten years of happiness in arrears. Somebody has to pay the bills."
The message was strong, but it was declared without bitterness. Christine simply stated the matter as a cold fact. "But playing cat and mouse with world powers is a dangerous game," said Ada. "You could be killed."
Christine smiled fully, exposing rows of straight white teeth. It was her first expansive smile of the evening. "Then so let it be," she said, looking directly into Ada's pure blue eyes. "I'll have lost very little actually."
"But this freedom you long for. Now you have it."
"There is no freedom with poverty," she said. "You speak of the magic of Paris. Without funds it is nothing more than a grimy, smelly ghetto. The glories are locked up, and the key to the door is forged of gold."
Ada wanted no business thoughts to pierce the euphoria, but she had to use this opening. "Uh-how much do you expect your secret to bring, Christine? Have you set a firm price?"
Christine had started to smile before Ada spoke. It was obvious her mind was taking a detour. "It's funny," she said. "Here we are-two lovely women, alone, lonely, adventure starved. And both of us intent upon destroying the world. We make quite a pair."
"The Nazi party is not destructive," Ada said caustically. "Only we can give logic to existence. Only we can save the world."
"Please, dear," said Christine softly, her hand touching Ada's, "you're among friends. Surely you can't mean what you say."
"But I do-I do!"
Christine smiled and sighed. "Then I'm afraid you're a fool. But then so am I. I know what fate my discovery can cause. In the wrong hands it can precipitate the destruction of the world. Yet, I am determined to sell out for a price."
Ada was on the verge of an attack. Her fists were clenched, and without previously conditioned temper control, she almost lashed out.
But some deeper voice halted her. This was not one of the resident students with a narrow scope of vision. This was a brilliant young woman, with beauty, warmth and wisdom. Ada must listen, and judge her later. "I-don't believe you will find your pot of gold," said Ada restrictively. "You will find death. I can give you money-perhaps a million dollars. And that is all I am concerned with. But I see no happiness for you."
Christine listened intently, and then let her eyes lower sadly. "You will kill me when I release my formula. I sense it."
"No-you're jumping to conclusions."
Christine, still gazing at the folded hands, shook her head. "No- I can tell. But there is something I must ask of you. I hope you will not be offended."
"What-is it?"
Christine looked at Ada and smiled. "You're the most handsome woman I've even know. I've met few who honesty attracted me, although I've made love to dozens. I'd like to feel the excitement of one I really desire."
Ada's mouth dropped open. She hadn't for one moment suspected. "You are attracted-to me? You are asking me to make love to you?"
Christine turned away sharply. "I'm sorry. Please forgive my faux pas. It's not that you're masculine. If you were I couldn't bear you. It's just that I sensed something in you. And I can see I was wrong."
Ada moistened her lips, her mind leveling in on one thing-sex. She put an arm around Christine's shoulder and turned her, small face toward her. Ada smiled gently-as gently as she could. "Your intuition didn't deceive you, she said, gazing in the life behind the dark eyes "To love you would be a great honor."