Damien Broderick - Strange Attractors by Original (pdf) (no david read aloud txt) 📕

The sanctuary tree

159

‘In these plays of theirs,’ Kahr whispered to him, ‘the SS blend

image and reality,’ The crowd, at last making out the identity of the

supposed traitor, cheered half-heartedly at his dilemma. ‘Schmidt

was told that if he reaches the tree and climbs to its topmost

branches, they won’t kill him.’ Rudolfs temporary superior was

absorbed in the drama; he had an aristocratic indifference: to

cruelty for its own sake.

The Wild H unt was drawing closer. One of the wolfhounds

snapped its jaws at Schmidt’s very heels. W ith a final effort, his

breath rasping audibly across the open ground, the m an sprinted

for the trunk of the huge tree. In the torch light, the bole was deep

red. Some Australian species?

Miraculously, Schmidt reached his goal, jumped , . . fell. Rudolf

heard titters. The uniformed man, desperate, dogs tearing at his

calves, tried to climb, could gain no hold on the trunk. The riders

were approaching now at a more leisurely pace.

Kahr roared with laughter. ‘The SS are true to their word. No

one can dispute their ethics!’

‘Pardon?’

‘Why, if he climbs the tree, he’s safe — but . . . but they greased it.’

The Gauleiter chuckled. ‘And bless their hearts, they used red

grease.’

Rudolf averted his gaze. Shadows shifted under a falling flare.

The world turned to fragments. He controlled his fear. He was safe.

By the time he woke in the morning, he assured himself, his upset

would be gone. He would have forgotten the Wild Hunt.

Unfortunately, he could not ignore the deep happy cries of the

hounds, the shared experience of the chase, of hum an desperation.

To leave would be to show disapproval towards the State, and he

was an officer. He had seen far worse.

One of the Valkyries rode back, passing him. He watched her,

fascinated by her ecstasy. H er forehead was smeared with liquid,

the kill a ruby sign upon her.

They sat in K ahr’s personal cinema. Rudolf did not know why he

had been summoned. The Gauleiter’s expression was stern and he

did not shake hands but clasped Rudolf on the shoulder and led

him to a seat, announcing that they had business to conclude.

Grim business.

‘You’ll not leave this cinema a whole man,’ Kahr said bluntly.

160

John Playford

Rudolf recognised the tone; he had used it himself, ordering people

to the camps. Kahr’s attitude was in marked contrast to his mood

during the previous night’s sport. Perhaps he wished to unnerve

Rudolf. The H auptm ann rose. His political acumen brought him

back to his senses; he sat down again and turned to the screen as the

projector came to life. W hat could the Gauleiter possibly have to

show him?

It was a poor quality movie, and the camera jum ped frequently,

but he recognised his bedroom. Why would Kahr have ordered

this? Was a purge of the SD imminent, as the Abwehr had been

eliminated years ago? His heart pounded furiously. Surely the

Party would not act so, or, weakened by the loss of its ally, it too

would eventually succumb.

His lover entered the room, clad in a night-gown. It was after

curfew, to judge by the clock on the mantelpiece. A figure appeared

on the side of the screen, shadowy, nakedly male. Trudi turned her

head and smiled. The figure approached, his blond hair tousled

My God

and he

No, no, no

recognised their Untermensch body servant.

He sat still. His head felt heavy.

The film was quite long.

The Gauleiter handed him a pistol. ‘Take it,’ he said. ‘It was captured from the Resistance in the early years. I shan’t speak of this again, and neither shall you. I’d never have forgiven myself if our

suspicions had proved untrue, H auptm ann Esser. Clean up your

house.’

He opened the front door and waved aside the butler.

He had once tallied the num ber of deaths for which he had been

immediately responsible. It had come to seven hundred. He was

not sadistic, surely; merely