‘I don’t understand? Why do you want this particular prisoner?’
‘Because I wish it,’ Stahl said distantly. ‘Isn’t that a good enough reason?’
‘In that case, are you willing to take the responsibility for his selection? I don’t want the Admiral on my back once he finds out I’ve selected this mongrel. It is against regulations.’
‘Yes, I’ll take the responsibility if it makes you any happier.’
Blomberg backed down with a simple shrug. Once again he felt that his loyalty had been taken for granted, perhaps not as dramatically as the circumstances that led to his appointment as the ship’s medical officer, but what little stomach Blomberg had for a fight had long deserted him. Arguing with the Sturmbannführer wouldn’t change the situation, and as he had learnt long ago what a Sturmbannführer wants, a Sturmbannführer gets. And so, the prized number one was branded in Konrad’s out-stretched arm.
‘Welcome aboard shipmate,’ Stahl said wryly as he gripped Konrad by the shoulders. But his touch wasn’t that of a comrade, it was still that of an enemy. His fingers dug deeply into the prisoner’s flesh. But nevertheless, he still looked at the new tattoo with relief. He was safe, for now.
Having offered Konrad up to the will of Stahl, Blomberg then moved on and encountered Gigolo. He stepped forward and presented himself before the doctor with a splendidly swelled chest. To Gigolo, these examinations felt just like an audition for a great part in a film or television show. It was appropriate that the ex-actor took this attitude towards the ordeal as elements of the examination echoed the dozens of auditions he had experienced as a young struggling actor. Blomberg’s scanner was simply a substitute for a camera, and finally the result, the numerical tattoo, was the alternative to a successful call-back from a producer. Gigolo looked down at his arm and saw that his audition was a success as “1” appeared on his arm.
Gigolo now waited for the result of his companion Erik’s audition.
Blomberg beckoned Erik toward him, but unlike the earnest Gigolo who clearly understood the need to make a good impression, the teenage prisoner shuffled forward with a note of indifference and apathy. It didn’t take Blomberg long to make his decision.
‘Zwei,’ Blomberg quickly announced.
Gigolo frowned when he heard the doctor’s pronouncement. The frown grew deeper when he saw Erik being escorted from the dormitory to join the unwanted group of men. He, like Konrad, knew full well that all the talk of “evacuation” was a typical Nazi smoke-screen for execution.
Gigolo cried out like an anguished father. ‘No, Erik. No!’ But a baton rammed into his shoulder, knocking the prisoner back on his heels.
Nobly or stupidly, depending on your point of view, Gigolo continued to object about his companion being taken from him. This time his actions were more forceful and physical. He now rushed towards Blomberg. The doctor cowered at the sight of the advancing bag of bones, but Gigolo didn’t strike, instead, he simply dropped to his knees and wrapped himself around the doctor’s legs like some amorous canine.
‘Herr Blomberg, please let Erik come with me,’ Gigolo sobbed. ‘He has nobody but me to protect him. He has to come with me. Please reconsider. Please! He works as hard as anybody else. I’m begging you, please!’
Blomberg, obviously embarrassed, attempted to push the desperate prisoner away. He smiled thinly as he did, but the smile soon turned into a grimace when he realised that his feeble efforts to shift Gigolo were failing miserably. Eventually a couple of guards came to the doctor’s rescue and dragged the prisoner away. Blomberg met the gaze of Stahl, who had watched the entire sad spectacle. He tapped his comrade on the shoulder.
‘What are you going to do with your overly affectionate friend?’ Stahl said ‘He appeared to be very passionate about his comrade. It’d be such a shame to separate them,’
Blomberg frowned.
‘If I was you, I’d acquiesce to that prisoner’s demands,’ Stahl stated. ‘Reunite them.’
‘Reunite them?’ Blomberg spluttered. ‘Impossible! It was bad enough letting your pet on board the Odin, it would be even worse if I passed that boy through too. He’s even more unfit. No, no! You ask too much, Stahl.’
‘That’s not what I meant,’ Stahl said soothingly. He then cocked his head in the direction of the doomed prisoners piled in the corridor outside. ‘Why not reunite the comrades out there.’
Blomberg nodded. Stahl stepped toward the weeping Gigolo. He gestured to the guards to let him go. His manner was soothing, even compassionate. It was, of course, just an act.
‘We’ll have no-more tears from you. I’ve taken pity and decided to overturn the doctor’s original decision.’
‘You have, Sturmbannführer?’ Gigolo said, wiping the tears away.
‘Yes, I have. You and your comrade are to be reunited.’
Gigolo smiled naively and looked into the corridor, expecting Erik to be returned to the dormitory. Unfortunately for him the guards dragged him from the room.
‘No, Herr Sturmbannführer. No. No!’ Gigolo cried as he was dumped into the arms of Erik. His anguished protests were cut short as the dormitory door slammed shut in his face.
Stahl lingered briefly next to Konrad, his arms crossed behind his back in a contemplative pose. Yet beneath the black peaked cap, his eyes narrowed into menacing slits, the light drifting from them. Konrad could almost see the evil, the total lack of empathy that had driven the almost gleeful delight he took in deciding Gigolo’s fate.
Stahl seemed to sense the prisoner‘s disapproval. ‘Now, now, we’ll have no dirty looks from you. It was compassion that drove that decision I made. I would never have lived with myself if I allowed those two comrades to remain separated. At least now, they can die in each-other‘s arms,’ the Nazi then said as he gave Konrad a mocking salute. ‘See you soon, my friend.’ He turned away and marched from the dormitory.
With that, Konrad was left alone in the now strangely cavernous room. The dormitory reflected his new state of mind as it now echoed horribly, its previously claustrophobic contours replaced by a brutal emptiness that swamped Konrad. He shivered, not only with the cold, but also with apprehension. The fear gripped him like a vice, and for the first time he realised just how isolated and alone he now was.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Total and utter exhaustion gripped Klaus Mesler. Such was its hold over the Odin’s Executive Officer that he wondered if he even needed to enter the hibernation tanks that were at this very moment being prepared deep in the bowels of the ship. Mesler was around the same age as his fellow officer, Stahl, but unlike the SS officer, his features were softer, less hawkish and angular. This reflected his general attitude as Mesler was a member of the Astrokorp just like the Admiral, and like the Admiral his manner and outlook was markedly different to that of Stahl’s inhumane constitution. Whereas Stahl was primarily a political animal at heart, Mesler’s primary concern was the crew. This concern for his fellow shipmates had driven him to remain on board the vessel during the entire six weeks he had been at the prison colony. He had personally overseen the final preparations to such an extent that he practically knew every part of the ship right down to the screws that held the rail to the gantry he stood on. His only companions during all this time were not his fellow Nazi officers, but the civilian contractors from firms such as Krupp and BMW and his isolation within the Odin was such that he had only briefly met Admiral Bauer once and never even met Stahl. This could have been viewed as a problem by some since these three men constituted the primary trinity of command upon the ship, and eventually at their destination, but Mesler was glad that he didn’t have to face his comrades with reports and meetings that he believed would only delay his work, and consequently the launch. In fact, such was Mesler’s isolation inside the Odin that he was oblivious to the selections, the delights of the fraüenblock, even the murder of Doctor Huber.