Macurdy tried to imagine what those monsters would be like. Physical, she'd said. Vaguely he remembered nightmares, and a chill ran over him.
"When do they leave?"
"In May. On the tenth, unless it's been changed again."
"How will they get there?"
Anna seemed unhappy with the question, as if she'd struggled with it before, to no good conclusion. "Not by rail," she said. "They will travel on rivers and canals. There was also something about walking. Or"-she shrugged uncomfortably-"running, actually. Accompanied by a motorized escort. It makes no sense."
To Macurdy it did. Certainly more sense than an interest in shipbuilding. "When do we leave?"
"I don't know. But soon, obviously." Anna got up. "It is time you returned to your drills."
Montag nodded. The drills were definitely a waste of time now, but orders were orders, and anyway there was nothing else to do. If he had his way, they'd leave the next day.
That evening, leaving the dining room, Anna's aura reflected repressed excitement, though physically she seemed her usual calm self. She paused outside the door, and as he passed, she murmured, "Very soon now. Very soon."
Tomorrow? he wondered. The next day? She should have been explicit. Or maybe she didn't know explicitly.
Afterward, in the reading room, Berta sat down beside Montag while he played solitaire. "You've been back for a week now," she murmured.
He nodded, then got up. "Let's talk in the corridor," he replied, and they went out.
"The rumor," Berta said, "was that you went somewhere with the Voitar. To wherever they came from." She put light fingers on his arm. "You and I should go to the party room. I've missed you. And I am curious."
"I'd have invited you," Montag said, "but while I was gone, I had more sex than I could handle. For the first time in my life. I'm not sure I've recovered yet."
"I've seen you with that scrawny little Hofstetter lately. Perhaps you have enough energy to take her downstairs."
"You live in the same room with her. You should know whether she slips out at night."
"Perhaps you screw her during the day. You are known to go into an empty classroom together. Apparently with permission."
"You might ask Schurz why we do that. Or Colonel Landgraf. They know. We are under orders, she and I."
Berta sulked. "Orders! She is a Jewess. That sharp face, scrawny body…"
"If she was sent here by the Gestapo, as I was, that is hardly possible."
Berta deflated. "Shit, Kurt, I know that. And I have nothing against Anna. I'm just jealous. She has the hots for you, and you're allowed to spend time together. Can we go downstairs tonight? I want you badly."
He considered. This was no time to get caught out after hours. The mission with Anna was his chance to report what he'd learned to Grosvenor Square. Or- If he was caught with Berta tonight, with the mission so close, what would they do to him? He had an assignment, and there seemed to be no one else they could send. He'd simply say it had been his last chance to go to bed with Berta. Besides, there was that old saw about Hell having no fury like a woman scorned.
"And I want you," he told her. "Who knows if I will have another chance. The usual time?"
Berta nodded, her excitement not primarily sexual. What is that about? he wondered.
He found out. After having sex, they talked, as usual. She thought perhaps he was getting ready to run away, escape to Switzerland, and wanted to go with him. That wasn't it, he told her. He'd gone with Kurgosz through a sort of gate on the Witches' Ridge, "a hole in space," realizing how preposterous it must sound, even given the outlandish appearance of the Voitar. And on the other side, he added, they'd trained him to do a special job.
To his surprise, she merely raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Hmm. And who was it there," she asked, "who gave you more ass than you could handle?"
"Kurqosz assigned a slave to keep me company, and to tell me things."
"A slave? She must have been something, if you couldn't bring yourself to say `no more.'"
"She was not an ordinary slave. She was Kurqosz's daughter."
"Kurqosz's daughter? A slave?"
"She's a half-blood, like Tsulgax. She's a slave, but has slaves of her own. In a way I was one of them."
Berta laughed. "I wish you were my slave! I'd wear you down to a Vogelscheuche!" She leaned against him then, kissed his lips, his shoulders, his chest, her right hand fondling him until he was ready.
When they were done, they went back upstairs, both of them quiet.
30
Surprise in Albion
The next morning he was told to pack, that they'd leave at 1000 hours. Packing took only a few minutes, then both he and Anna were called to Landgraf's office for a final briefing. Afterward they were driven to the military transportation office at the railyard in Kempten, where they were met by an SS 1st lieutenant. His orders identified them as an intelligence team enroute to England; he was to accompany them, get them to the submarine base at Saint-Nazaire through any difficulties that might arise. In these times one could expect difficulties.
Theirs was an army train, mostly freight cars, but with a flak car, three troopcars, and a sleeper car for officers. Macurdy, Anna, and the lieutenant were assigned to the sleeper, along with the several officers of coast artillery replacements.
In peacetime the 650-mile trip would have taken a day. It took them nearly four, partly because other, strategically more urgent trains were given the right of way, leaving them on sidings for as long as an hour at a time. Mostly, however, the problem was bomb damage. The bridge at Breisach had been knocked out the night before, so they'd detoured south, and crossed the Rhine on the newly repaired bridge at Mullheim. At numerous locations, railyards had been heavily bombed, and damage, debris, and ongoing repairwork seriously reduced the rate at which traffic could be moved through, causing long delays. In other places, temporary bypasses and hasty repairs meant reduced speeds.
The first day, Macurdy wondered what night would bring. Berta had said Anna had the hots for him, but he'd brushed it off as petulance. Certainly he'd seen no indication of it, even auric. He was interested despite himself, and that troubled him. In the army he'd had opportunities for sex from Little Rock to England, and had avoided it because he was married. Then there' been Berta, and a great deal of Rillissa, and having sex with them seemed to have weakened his resistance. He vowed not to have sex with Anna.
The railroad car had blackout curtains, of course, and at twilight they were drawn. At nine o'clock the corridor lights were dimmed. The lieutenant appraised Anna. "Fraulein, for security it is necessary that you share a compartment with one of us." He gestured at Kurt Montag. "Which one do you prefer?" He had no doubt, of course. Her companion looked like a peasant, limped, and wore a suit of ill-fitting tweed that looked distinctly British.
She saw through him of course. "I will share this one with Herr Montag," she said. "We are old friends."
The lieutenant locked his jaw without answering, telling himself she was thinner than he liked anyway, and nodding curtly, went to the next compartment.
Anna set the bolt, drew the compartment curtains, and took pajamas and a robe from her bag. Her aura showed only light sexuality: awareness, not desire. In fact, she put on her robe, turned her Lack to him, changed clothes beneath it, removed the robe and went to bed, pulling the cover over her. Physically he felt disappointed; mentally relieved.
"Anna," he said, "I have no robe. But if you would turn your back…"
She did, and he removed his outer garments. Then, after opening the compartment curtain just a bit to let in some of the corridor light, he turned off the night light and went to bed. Anna watched him in the dimness.
"I had wondered if there would be a problem between us," she said. "Thank you for your good behavior."
He focused on her aura. Her sexual energy had increased but was still unfocused. "I have a wife," he answered. "A very good wife, whom I love. I owe her my loyalty."