Jenny Plague-Bringer: (Jenny Pox #4) (37 page)

“You just blew your only chance.” Ward’s face turned a dark crimson.

“My one and only chance?” Seth asked, even as Ward and the guards departed down the
hall. “Not like my last one and only chance, in 1933?  Or my next one and only chance,
when you bring us all back to the same place again in another hundred years?  How
many times are you going to set up this same situation, Kranzler?  Hello?  Is this
thing on?  Where’s Jenny, Kranzler?”

Ward and his guards continued on out of sight.

“That went well, I think,” Seth said, wondering if the man could still hear him. 
He looked around the room, wondering whether he’d been in this exact cell before. 
It didn’t look like it had been cleaned since 1933.

Seth felt a giddy high from having so many of his memories restored, as if he’d been
sleepwalking all his life and finally woken up.  He could see how Kranzler, or Ward,
was trapped in the same drama, creating the same situation again, apparently unaware
that they’d all been here before.  Jenny, and their unborn baby, had to be here somewhere. 
To understand the present, he needed to study carefully his memories of the past...

* * *

Sebastian walked into the dining room where the test subjects ate at a long table. 
Evelina, the dark, quiet Slavic girl, sat alone at the end, and he greeted her, as
he did every time.  She mumbled something back without looking up from her boiled
beef and potatoes, which was actually a big response from her.

He thought the tests were going well.  He’d healed animals and human subjects with
a variety of afflictions, and he’d even healed Dr. Wichtmann of a persistent bladder
infection, though that wasn’t an official test.  The scientists seemed pleased with
the work but still clueless about how his touch actually worked, except that it put
out a lot of heat and electromagnetic energy.

The worst part was how rarely he saw Juliana—just meals and the occasional film night,
no private time.  He hoped he would be included in the girls’ activities more now
that Willem had apparently returned home to Holland over the weekend.  Niklaus was
always on his official duties and still took his meals with the other S.S. officers,
so Sebastian found himself spending hours alone on his hall at night.  Not that he
particularly wanted to spend more time with Niklaus—the guy had a strange, threatening
way about him, but at least he always had beer or schnapps.  The scientists had instructed
Sebastian not to drink alcohol, but what else was he supposed to do with all his time?

Sebastian took a platter of potatoes and beef from the open dumbwaiter, then sat at
his usual place near the middle of the table.  He greeted Roza and Vilja, who flanked
the head of the table where Alise would inevitably sit. The blond girls waved back
at him and whispered to each other, giggling.

Mia, Juliana’s roommate, arrived and hurried over to sit next to Sebastian.

“Hi, Mia.  Where’s Juliana?” Sebastian asked.

“She’ll come.” Mia leaned close to him and whispered. “She’s very upset today.  I
hope you can comfort her.”

“They didn’t make her do more animal tests, did they?”

“No, they just...” Mia frowned. “They wanted her to...kill a man.  With her touch.”
She placed her hand on Sebastian’s, as if to demonstrate.

“Are you serious?  What kind of sick people are these Nazis?  Is she in her room?”
Sebastian began to stand, but Mia grabbed his arm.

“Alise is talking to her now,” Mia said quietly. “God knows what she’s saying.  They
should be here soon.”

Sebastian pulled his arm free and started for the door, but then Juliana and Alise
entered the room.  Despite what Mia had said, Juliana had a broad, glowing smile and
a drifting-on-a-cloud look in her eyes. 

Sebastian smiled and reached out to hug Juliana, but she looked right through him. 
She trotted after Alise like a loyal puppy and sat down next to Roza, on Alise’s end
of the table.  Roza gave Juliana a disgusted look and scooted her chair away, but
Juliana didn’t seem to notice.  She gazed droopy-eyed at Alise, with a drunken smile.

“Alise touched her, didn’t she?” Sebastian asked, taking his seat again. “How could
Alise touch Juliana without getting the plague?”

“I don’t know, but it looks like she did.”

Sebastian shook his head.  Alise had only touched him a few brief times, but her power
was clearly strong.  Even those brief touches had made him feel intoxicated, and a
couple of times, had left him with painfully swollen erections that wouldn’t go away
for hours.

“I have an announcement,” Alise said. “Now that both halls are together.”

Sebastian tried to catch Juliana’s eye, but she hadn’t even looked his way since entering
the room.  Either Alise had dosed her pretty heavily, or Juliana was angry at Sebastian
about something.

“Orders have come down that we will no longer tolerate music, film, or literature
corrupted by Jewish, homosexual, Communist, or liberal influences,” Alise continued.
“No more degrading Hollywood filth, no more records of music by the lower races. 
We will enjoy only civilized film and music, promoting proper German virtues.”

“No!” Mia said. “Please, Alise!”

“Excuse me?  Do you have a problem, Mia?” Alise stared at her, and Roza and Vilja
copied her cold look.  So did Juliana, as if she’d become part of their clique.  The
four girls seemed to be trying to intimidate Mia.

“I have to agree with Mia on this one,” Sebastian said. “We really need our entertainment
around here.”

“You’re taking
her
side?” Juliana scowled at him.

“It’s not about sides, it’s about not losing our music and movies,” Sebastian told
her.

“Juliana, I read there’s a new Mae West coming out,” Mia said. “Called
I’m No Angel
.  Don’t you want to see that?”

“It sounds exactly like the kind of degenerate film we’re trying to avoid,” Alise
said. “We’ll be collecting all unsuitable records from the common rooms.  You will
still have the records of many fine German composers.”

“This is ridiculous,” Sebastian said. “We should at least keep the records we have.”

“We are not debating the new rule, I am simply telling you what it is,” Alise said. 
Juliana, Roza, and Vilja all nodded, as if Alise had made an excellent point.

“Why are you doing this?” Sebastian asked.

“I am responsible for guiding all of you toward healthy bodies and healthy morals,
too,” Alise said. “This may shock you, Sebastian, but we caught Juliana and Mia together
on Saturday night, drinking wine and dancing to Negro music in a very lewd manner.”

“You did?  Where was I?” Sebastian grinned at Juliana, but she was still imitating
Alise’s withering glare.  It was as if the Juliana he’d always known had vanished,
and a new minion of Alise had taken her place.

“The behavior was unacceptable and violated several dormitory rules,” Alise said.
“
Gruppenführer
Kranzler and I agree that the corrupting influence of foreign, racially inferior
music is to blame.”

“American music isn’t foreign to us!” Sebastian said.

“Sebastian, please don’t fight with Alise,” Juliana told him, her blue eyes frosty
and hard. “She has a difficult job looking out for all of us.  We should support her
and listen to her.  If she wants to remove corrupting influences, then we should help
her instead of arguing.”

“Hi, I’m not sure we’ve met,” he replied. “My name is Sebastian.”

“You can’t be serious about this,” Mia said to Alise.

“The new rule goes into effect immediately,” Alise said. “Roza, Vilja, and I will
review the appropriateness of records and books in both common rooms.  Juliana, would
you like to help?”

“I’ll be happy to,” Juliana said. “I’m sorry Sebastian is giving you problems.”

“Don’t worry, he’s just a boy,” Alise said, and Juliana laughed, as did Alise’s other
little followers.  Sebastian cast a look of disbelief at Juliana, but she ignored
him.

“I think I’m done.” Sebastian stood and returned his slightly-eaten meal to the dumbwaiter. 
The little rope-powered elevator would return their dirty dishes up to the kitchen.

“So am I.” Mia followed him out to the hallway, though she hadn’t eaten at all.

“Have fun, you two,” Alise said, and the other blond girls snickered. 

“It’s like she’s under a spell,” Sebastian said quietly to Mia as they walked down
the hall, away from the dining room and back toward the dormitories. “I mean, I’ve
felt Alise’s power before, and I know it’s very...”

“Sexy?” Mia asked, and he couldn’t help laughing.

“Yeah.  Strong.  Like opium.  It feels like Juliana’s completely out of touch with
herself.  And me.”

“Don’t worry, I’m still here.” Mia smiled. “I’ll talk to her.  And she’ll come back
to her senses...Alise has touched me before, and it does wear off eventually.”

“It’s good you’re here, Mia,” Sebastian said. “Without you, I’d be going crazy.”

“You might still be going crazy.” She smiled as they reached the double doors to the
girls’ hall. “I’ll see you at breakfast.  Don’t worry about Juliana.”

“I’ll try.” Sebastian reached out and hugged her, without thinking about it.  He’d
never hugged her before.  She leaned her face against his neck, wrapping her arms
around him tightly and holding him much longer than he’d expected, while his healing
energy seeped into her body.  She gave him a dazed smile as she finally pulled herself
away and stepped through the door.

Esmeralda stood in the high concrete room and stared at the dead body on the gurney
in front of her.  A sheet covered him to the chest, hiding the bullet wounds that
had killed him.  She’d been told nothing about him, but he looked Arabic to her, or
maybe Pakistani.

Two scientists, two U.S. military intelligence officers, and General Ward Kilpatrick
watched her from across the room, as did a digital video camera. 

“Anytime, Miss Rios,” Ward said.

Esmeralda sighed.  She didn’t want to help this man, who’d had her drugged and kidnapped
from her home.  She had no idea where in the world they were, and there were no windows
anywhere to give her any clues.  The lack of windows made the place even more creepy
and sinister.  She had a constant bad feeling, as if the place were haunted by angry
ghosts.  At night, in the dark, she spent hours laying awake in terror, expecting
something to grab her.

Her kidnappers belonged to some kind of secret government agency, the same people
who’d recruited Tommy.  Ward had approached her in person a week after Tommy left,
asking if she was ready to join him, but Esmeralda had turned him down.  So he’d had
men kidnap her instead.

Now she was cooperating reluctantly, out of fear of what he might do if she didn’t. 
She kept asking him to let her see Tommy, but Ward just smirked and said she had to
“earn” a visit with him.  This involved reading bodies that Ward brought to her, while
his researchers monitored her through sensors attached all over her body.

Esmeralda took a deep breath, placed her hands on the corpse, and closed her eyes.

Immediately, she saw flashes of life in a city of bombed-out and blackened buildings...Afghanistan. 
He was Pashtun, not Arab. 

“I see Kabul,” she told them. “Now, another city, Herat, full of ancient towers, not
so destroyed...He traveled back and forth, buying and selling...Dishes?  Dishes and
teapots from Iran.  He preferred Herat.  He died in Kabul.”

“He brought weapons from Iran to Afghanistan,” said one of the intelligence officers
who’d brought the corpse to the base. “A gun dealer.”

Esmeralda’s forehead wrinkled as she concentrated. “No...I don’t see anything like
that.”

“He has to be the guy.  We worked hard to track him down.  A paid informant assured
us he was a gun runner.”

“Maybe you should ask for your money back.” Esmeralda opened her eyes.

“We were told he was involved in guns and heroin,” the officer told her.

“No.  He did make a sport of sleeping with the wives of other men.  Perhaps that is
why someone wants him dead.”

The intelligence officers looked at each other.

“This girl’s a fake,” one of them said to Ward. “She doesn’t know anything.”

“Is she?” Ward asked. “Or are you trying to cover your own ass?”

“We didn’t make a mistake,” he said.  He looked at Esmeralda. “This is the right guy.”

“Thank you, gentlemen.  Your response is noted. I think we’re done here,” Ward told
them.

The dead Pashtun was wheeled away, and the two visiting intelligence officers left.

“He sold teapots, huh?” Ward asked her.

“Teapots.” Esmeralda shrugged.

“Guess they aren’t sending the high-value targets for our tests.” Ward shook his head,
chuckling as he left the lab.  Guards in black uniforms escorted Esmeralda away, down
the elevator, and back to her room in what they called the cellblock. She sat on her
bed as the steel door of her cell clanged shut.  She was cooperating now, but was
still treated like a prisoner because they knew she didn’t want to be here.