Foundations of an Imperfect Life
Berlin RY069-094
Late December, RY069
"You wanted to see me, Herr Reichsführer?" asked Hauptsturmführer Leona Gerlinde, as she entered my office in Hradcany Castle.
As she saluted, and then stood at ease in front of me, I regarded once more the sloe-eyed beauty and dark good looks which had first led me to notice her, a couple of years before, while she was undertaking officer training at Bad Tölz. There had been an instant mutual attraction, and we had been lovers for a time, before she had graduated (with good grades, none of them influenced by me) and been assigned to Einsatzgruppe-B.
By all accounts she had turned into a good officer with a reputation for bravery since going onto active service, and it was the combination of that, her appearance and the fact that while we had been sleeping together I had realised she was a shape shifter, which had led to me bringing her to mind for a new project I was working on.
Back in August, the Kaiser had asked that I somehow find more Blood family to serve in the Reich, justifiably concerned by the fact that most of the Sable command staff were more than mortal, while for the most part ours weren't, which put us at a serious disadvantage. Due to a fortunate combination of circumstances, within a couple of weeks of that conversation, the opportunity to obey his orders had arisen, with the capture of my nephew, Andrew. Now he was settled into his new circumstances, it was time to put those orders into operation.
"I have a proposition for you, Hauptsturmführer Gerlinde."
She looked at me with interest, and I could see the cogs of her mind whirring.
"No. Not a return to any former informalities you and I may have shared," I answered, and I thought I saw disappointment in her eyes, but she was wise enough not to say anything, "but I would ask you to do an important service for the Reich."
Interested, she waited for me to continue.
"I expect it won't be what you envisaged for your career, but serve me in this and I will see to it that you are placed on the fast track for promotion."
"What would you have me do, sir?"
I tried to figure out if there was a neat way of putting my request, and then decided there was little point. She would either say yes or no.
"We have an important prisoner...I'd like you to offer him comfort. And preferably, I would ask you to consider bearing his child."
She avoided choking at my words, but I suspect it was a near run thing.
"You want me to sleep with him?"
"I want you to do more than that," I answered, "do this for me, and you will find me a very generous patron...As long as you remain undiscovered, at least."
She caught her breath.
"Hauptsturmführer Gerlinde. Perhaps you should be aware that I know you are an unregistered shape shifter."
I watched the colour drain from her beautiful features, and for a moment I almost regretted pulling that card out so early in the conversation, but whatever it took to gain her co-operation...
"How long have you known, Herr Reichsführer?"
"For some time. However, your ability to shift is actually one of the reasons why you occurred to me as being suited to this particular mission."
"Mission?"
"Of course. You would be doing this for the good of the Reich, which makes it a mission. And as far as personal consequences for yourself are concerned, if things go according to plan, not only will your career benefit from it, but I also envisage that your child will be a force to be reckoned with. Moreover, as it will be bought up Lebensborn, once you have given birth you need have no further input into its upbringing, or contact with it, and you can resume your career as before...with the added benefit that I can make sure you're on the fast track, as compensation for the time you will lose while you carry the child. As long as your nature remains undetected. Should you be discovered as a shape shifter...well, there would be little I could do."
"Who's the father?" she asked.
"That I cannot tell you...but at least take comfort in the fact that I'm certainly not asking you to sleep with someone who is displeasing to the eye. And as a shape shifter, should you not find him to your taste, at least you can guarantee that you can conceive his child at will, so you won't have to endure his company any longer than you wish to."
"How's he likely to react to this?"
"He has no choice. What will be, will be," I replied.
She fell silent, and I could see her considering my proposal. As she did, I returned my attention to the paperwork in front of me, giving her the time she needed to come to a decision.
"Alright," she said finally, after about five minutes, "I'll do it."
"Excellent. Report to me at the Wewelsburg on New Year's Eve, and I will introduce you."
* * * * * * *
Like the good little soldier she was, Gerlinde arrived at around six in the evening on New Year's Eve, my having previously made sure that her partner was ready for her arrival. Strangely, he hadn't seemed particularly co-operative when I had first told him what I intended to do with him, but judicious application of certain drugs made sure that by the time the introductions were made, he had little choice about playing his part.
As Gerlinde saw him, I noted sympathy on her features - after all, he was still recovering from a Working that the Knights and I had undertaken on the Winter Solstice, with his participation if not his permission. I also thought I saw a flash of recognition from her as she saw him, but that might just have been because he does bear a family resemblance to myself, being my brother's son. However, she didn't seem displeased by this, perhaps remembering our own times together, and played her part as required.
I decided it would be uncouth to actually wait outside the cell while their business was undertaken, and so I headed back to my office. She joined me up there about four hours later, and didn't appear to have disliked the experience too much.
"Is it done?" I asked, quietly, "was he co-operative?"
"It's done," she answered, "he didn't seem very co-operative at first, but I think I brought him round."
"And was it successful?"
"I believe so, Herr Reichsführer," she answered, and I smiled.
"Thank you, Leona. You've done well. Presumably I don't have to remind you to be discrete about this matter?"
"I suspect discretion will become a moot point in a few months' time."
"Obviously...but arrangements will have been made, so you need not fear on that score. And I give you my guarantee that once the child is born, you will return to your unit with the rank of Sturmbannführer and the equivalent privileges which one of your male Kameraden would gain for bringing into existence a child for the good of the Reich."
"Thank you, Herr Reichsführer," she answered, and saluted smartly before turning on her heel and leaving. Then, once she was gone, I put away the paperwork on my desk, and then headed out into the courtyard, to see in the calendar New Year.
* * * * * * *
June, RY075
The child was born on the Autumnal Equinox, RY070, a healthy boy who had inherited his mother's ability to shape shift, but sadly not his father's Talent for magic. She named him Dominik Albrecht, after her father and uncle, and he was put into the Lebensborn Centre at Bremen as planned. Then, true to my word, I returned Leona Gerlinde to Einsatzgruppe-B, with the rank of Sturmbannführer. And to be honest, after that, she was of no more importance in my plans. However, I did keep a regular eye on the progress of Dominik and his siblings who were born later, under similar circumstances, knowing that they all had the potential to grow up to be the Reich's future, and was pleased with what I saw.
Then came the spring of RY075. Largely thanks to the good work of myself and my Knights, and the unique contribution of my nephew - who I even let live for his service, although I hadn't initially been planning to - that spring was one of the Reich's most successful periods of military advance in many years. Even the Kaiser was pleased with the gains we had made. Personally, I had been involved in the offensive on Neubrandenburg, which had gone spectacularly well, but it had meant that once I got back to my office in Berlin, about six weeks later, there was a lot of catching up to do.
I had broken the back of it by early June, but I still felt a flash of annoyance when there was a knock at my door on the afternoon of the 10th. Mathilde, my PA, hadn't advised me of any appointments that afternoon.
"Enter," I commanded, and slightly to my surprise, she showed in Kurt Stuckart. He was the head of Amt 1 (Economics and Administration), but didn't normally bother me as that side of the my organisation usually fended for itself.
He saluted smartly, then stood at ease when I indicated for him to do so.
"Yes, Gruppenführer Stuckart," I said, preparing to be thoroughly bored with what he was going to tell me.
"Herr Reichsführer, I've had the strangest request," he began, cautiously. He paused, perhaps a little uncertainty in his voice but rather than comment , I waited for him to continue. "From one Obersturmbannführer Leona Gerlinde."
That caught my attention rather more.
"She's been arrested by the Forstapo on suspicion of being a shape shifter."
"How was she discovered?"
"She was injured during the clean-up operations on Magdeburg, after the recent offensive there, and the doctors realised her rate of recovery was incompatible with the norm."
"And why are you bothering me with this? It seems reasonably straightforward.
"It's just that apparently, when asked to defend herself, she referred her interrogators to you, sir. Normally, of course, such a request would have been treated with the contempt it deserved."
"Then why wasn't it?"
"Throughout their questioning, which was as thorough as you might expect I'm told, she kept insisting that you knew, sir. And that you'd given her special dispensation to continue to serve."
"Has she produced this dispensation?" I asked, knowing full well that no such piece of paper existed, as it was a purely verbal agreement between us.
"Not as yet. However, she isn't budging from her story."
"Where is she being held?"
"In the prison facility at Bad Tölz. The Forstapo commander on the ground thought it would be better if she wasn't interred with the prisoners we've captured on Magdeburg."
"You were right to bring this to my attention, Stuckart. I shall deal with the matter."
"Of course, sir," he answered, and when I didn't say anything further, he considered himself dismissed. He saluted and then headed out of my office. I locked the files I had been working on away in the safe, and then headed for Bad Tölz to see what Leona Gerlinde had to say in her defence.
I was taken downstairs in the prison block to one of the cells reserved for special prisoners, and as I looked inside I could see her lying quietly on the straw pallet which served as a bed. She had been beaten, I noticed, but otherwise seemed calm. Obviously, she'd placed a lot of trust in the success of her appeal to me.
I indicated for my escorts to remain outside, and then went in, and as soon as she saw me, she was on her feet saluting. It looked rather pitiful, given the shabby prison garb she was wearing.
"Report?" I demanded.
"I was commanding the C battalion, Einsatzgruppe-B on Magdeburg. We had rounded up a group of fifth columnists and were in the process of taking them to the execution ground when we were attacked. We fought hard, and made sure that our attackers were forced to retreat, but in the process I took a shot to the stomach and lost consciousness. When I came around I was in the hospital, surrounded by Forstapo guards."
"And what do you expect me to do about it?" I asked, looking at her firmly.
"I was hoping you might intercede for me with my commanding officer, Standartenführer Nebe."
"And why would I do that?"
"Herr Reichsführer, you said you would allow me to continue to serve with the regiment despite my...secret."
"I also said don't get caught," I commented, quietly, "however, now you have been and I can't brush that under the table...being a covert shape shifter in the SS is a capital offence, even if it was discovered due to an act of considerable bravery on your part."
"I am only too aware of that," she answered, casting her eyes down and looking despondent, "I appealed to you in the hope it might be commuted...due to my prior good service."
I considered her for awhile, weighing up the fact that she had given me Andrew's first child, against the embarrassment of her revelation as a shifter. However, as I considered the possibilities, I came to the conclusion that at least that revelation shouldn't reflect badly on me. So in the end, I nodded.
"There will be no option but to issue you with a dishonourable discharge," I pointed out, "although I will arrange for your correct certification with the Forstapo."
"If it means I'm allowed to live, then I am willing to accept that," she replied.
"So be it," I replied, "I shall inform the relevant individuals."
At least she looked grateful, although I had the distinct impression that she had something else she wished to say. I waited for a few moments, and she finally came out with it.
"What happens to my son?"
"No stain will accrue to his character," I answered.
"What if I were to request that he accompany me?"
I looked at her, slightly surprised she'd had the gall to ask that, given her situation. But then, during her service she'd always had a reputation for bravery, which is why I'd asked her to participate in my programme to begin with, and she'd had enough balls...metaphorically speaking...to invoke my attention as a way of saving her life now her luck had run out.
"He's settled in the Bremen Lebensborn Centre, and has never shown any signs of wanting to know who his parents are."
"But it's not as if I wouldn't have time for him now...while I was on active service, yes, but..."
I considered her request for a moment, mentally debating the pros and cons of exposing my oldest protégé to life in the outside world. On the one hand, it would broaden his experience, which might ultimately be beneficial and make him more efficient when he grew up, and if it worked out, I might allow some of his younger siblings the same chance. On the other, I couldn't guarantee his education as well as I could in the closed society of the Centre. In the end though...it's always been said that I'm a sucker for a pretty face and she really did used to be good in bed.
"I'll have him sent to you once you have a place to live."
"Thank you, Herr Reichsführer," she replied, "if there's anything I can do..."
"You won't have the opportunity," I replied, "once you leave here, never attempt to invoke my name again. You will be on your own. And if I learn that you have fallen down in your duties towards your son, he will be removed from your care."
"I understand, sir. I won't let you down."
I nodded, and then she saluted smartly, before I left her alone once more while I went to speak with those who needed to know my decision on the matter.
* * * * * * *
February, RY079
As well as security, my organisation also has overall control of the Reich police forces, and so once a month or so, I meet the respective heads of the Orpo and the Kripo at Hradcany so they can brief me on anything serious I should be aware of in the way of civilian crime in Berlin. After all, it never hurts to be aware of all aspects of life which could cause a problem in the future. Usually, it's a routine meeting, but every so often, they bring me something which actually attracts my attention. Normally, it's the Kripo cases which catch my ear, the Kripo being the organisation responsible for the investigation of more serious crimes. However on this occasion, it was Orpo Reichspolizeidirektor Wendel who got my interest.
"Finally, there have been twelve accidental deaths since my last report which have required police attendance..."
I listened politely, not really taking in the names as he listed them off, until one got my attention.
"Leona Gerlinde. Escort at Salon Gratia. Domestic accident."
"Say that again..." I said, suddenly all ears.
Salon Gratia was a brothel of interesting repute, as it specialised in providing escorts of both sexes to influential members of society who wanted to dip a toe...and various other parts of their anatomy...into something bordering illegal, which therefore provided added spice. The escorts were exclusively shape shifters. Of course, technically, sleeping with a shape shifter was a crime. However, the RSHA usually turned a blind eye to one or two of the key establishments which catered for that perversion, both because it was a need that sometimes required filling, and also because we made sure that the brothel keepers kept us informed of who was visiting. That Leona would have ended up in such a place was a disappointment, but not entirely a surprise.
"Leona Gerlinde...died in a domestic accident. Apparently the stupid cow fell against a table in her apartment, smashed her head and broke her neck."
"When?"
"February 4th, Herr Reichsführer," he answered.
Three weeks before.
"Why were the police called?" I asked.
"The Hauswirtin heard the crash and went upstairs to find the victim. Separately a call came in a short while later from someone claiming to be the victim's son. The police attended along with the paramedics, but nothing could be done for her. The only oddity was that when he was interviewed the boy claimed that she had been...pushed by...someone he referred to as..." he leafed through the file, found what he wanted, and continued "...'Uncle Emil'. However, the Hauswirtin informed the investigator that the boy was prone to being troublesome, and that he was probably making it up. They looked into the claims, of course, but found no proof that it was anything other than his childish imagination. There was certainly no evidence of the existence of anyone in the family named Emil."
While I tried not to show it, the name rang bells. Jürgen Kessler, Head of the SD, had mentioned in one of his briefings about two or three years ago, that our beloved Party Chairman, Emil Urs, had taken up with a mistress from Salon Gratia. I'd asked him to identify the woman, and he'd confirmed it was Leona Gerlinde. After that, he kept an eye on the relationship for me. After all, who knows when it might be useful to inform the Party Chairman that I was aware he was knowingly sleeping with a shape shifter. And as Kessler hadn't ever told me that the relationship had come to an end, it led me to an obvious conclusion: Emil Urs had been involved in Leona Gerlinde's death.
"What happened to him?" I asked Wendel.
"To who?"
"The boy...Fraulein Gerlinde's son."
"I believe he was put into a foster home."
"Direktor Wendel," I said in my most honeyed tone, "I would consider it a personal favour if you would find out where he is and inform me of his current situation."
I could see fear in his eyes as he looked at me, obviously afraid that he had incurred my displeasure. I could also see him warring with himself about whether to ask me why.
"I have an interest in the child," I stated, and he gulped and nodded.
"I shall see to it personally, Herr Reichsführer."
"Do that," I answered, with a nod, "anything else?"
They looked at each other then back at me.
"That's everything, Herr Reichsführer," said RKD Friedman.
"Then thank you for your report. I will see you next month."
They saluted in perfect harmony, and then left me to my own devices.
So where the Hell was Dominik? While I didn't particularly feel the need to shed a tear for his mother, ex lover or not, the boy I had a great deal of interest in. He would need to be located and returned to the Bremen Lebensborn Centre before anything else could go wrong, and I cursed my own idiocy for ever letting Leona take him out of the system in the first place.
I should really remember that there is no place in my life for sentimentality, especially towards a good lay.
I debated with myself whether to go over Wendel's head despite his having agreed to prioritise my request, but in the end I decided to give him a couple of days, as there were other matters which required my attention. So I pushed the subject of the boy aside and returned to work.
Wendel called me the following afternoon.
"I have information, Herr Reichsführer," he said, and I could detect nervousness in his tone. The thought crossed my mind that he had phoned to report as he wanted to keep distance between us before giving me bad news, and I decided not to give him the option.
"Report to me at your earliest convenience," I answered.
"Of course, sir," he answered, but I could almost hear his heart sink as he did so, which amused me somewhat, "I will be there in twenty minutes."
"I'll ask Mathilde to expect you," I replied, "she will show you in as soon as you arrive."
He arrived at the appointed time, and my first assessment was that my guess was right. He was bringing me bad news, and was afraid I was going to shoot the messenger. Had he been one whit less competent as Orpo Kommandant, I might have even considered it, but good staff is so hard to find...
Still, I didn't ask him to sit. No need for him to get complacent.
"Well, Direktor Wendel?"
"The boy was taken to a foster home on Auguststrasse by the welfare officer who reported to the scene once the child's presence was made known."
"Why wasn't this recorded in the original report?"
"I am still trying to find out, Herr Reichsführer," he answered, "I will question the officers responsible personally."
"Good," I answered, with a nod, "and the rest of it?"
He paused for a moment, obviously collecting his thoughts, before continuing.
"There's been a death at the home."
"The boy?" I asked, hoping he wouldn't answer in the affirmative. Dominik's death would be such a waste of potential.
"No, sir," he replied.
"Then who?" I demanded, masking my relief.
"Another of the children there ...Rein Schmidt. And his brother Klaus was seriously injured."
"Why is this relevant?"
"The Foster Keepers at the home said that the Gerlinde child was responsible. Apparently he attacked the other boys for no good reason, beat them and then fled."
From what I knew of Dominik from his time in the Lebensborn Centre, that seemed out of character. He was a child who would stand his own ground, but not one who would go looking for trouble. Of course, I didn't know how his time with his mother might have changed him.
"Fled where?"
"They don't know."
"Fled when?"
"Two days ago."
"And has the fact that their duty as official Foster Keepers to the boy, and therefore their responsibility to him escaped attention?" I asked, feeling a rising anger as the catalogue of disasters was laid out before me, and hearing it in my own voice.
"It would seem that in the confusion, they were never appointed his official Keepers. Apparently, neither the Orpo officer nor the Welfare officer followed the correct procedure, and when I spoke with the Keepers, I was left with the impression that they were glad the boy was gone. It sounds as if he was inherently disruptive, and the death of young Schmidt was the last straw."
"Have both the officers and the Foster Keepers detained," I answered, my tone icy, "they will answer for their carelessness. Both in failing to keep proper records on the Gerlinde boy, and for letting a situation arise where a death could occur."
I wondered if he was going to argue. After all, in his eyes, I was just making a fuss over the son of a whore. But wisdom prevailed...perhaps because he could detect my anger...and he wisely said nothing. From what seemed to be a look of realisation in his eyes as I spoke, it occurred to me that perhaps the thought had crossed his mind that the child might be mine, hence my interest. Given my plans for Andrew's children, and the fact that I considered it my duty to protect and guide them until they grew up enough to take their place in the great scheme of things, I suppose he wasn't too far from the truth.
"It will be done, Herr Reichsführer."
"Is there any sign of the boy?"
"No, sir."
"Let me know if the situation changes."
"Of course."
He saluted, then turned on his heel and left, and while he didn't actually rush, I had the impression that he was very keen to be out of my sight before I decided to take my anger out on him.
This time, I decided I wasn't going to leave it to him to come back to me with the answers. This time, I needed to find Dominik myself. After all, he'd been missing for two days, it was a bloody cold February, and there were a limited number of places where he could have gone. The problem was where to start.
I wondered if perhaps he'd gone back to his mother's apartment, and decided to investigate that avenue of inquiry on the off-chance. I called in Obersturmführer Arjan Hoffmann, Head of the Honour Guard, and then ordered my carriage (I was still figuring out how to introduce automobiles to the Reich, so in the meantime, we had to make do with the old fashioned method of transport). Once downstairs, I asked my driver, Unterscharführer Holtz, to head for Leona's apartment on Metzerstrasse. We parked a short distance away, and leaving Holtz with the carriage, we bundled into our coats and headed for the apartment. For security, I decided it was unlikely that anyone who saw us would either recognise me, or remember us afterwards...after all, it wouldn't be proper for the RFSS to be seen visiting the home of a dead whore.
I knocked on the door, which was opened by the Hauswirtin, who looked rather surprised, and not a little afraid, to see two SS officers standing on her doorstep. I wonder why...
I decided to do the talking, while Hoffman stood a little behind me, keeping his silence and watching out for trouble. I pulled a Kripo ID disc out of my pocket as authorisation to ask her questions (the fact that it hadn't been there seconds before was, of course, purely incidental), and then addressed her.
"Hauswirtin Schuler ," I began, and she seemed nervous that I knew her name, "We are pursuing enquiries into the disappearance of a boy who used to live here. Dominik Gerlinde."
"Leona's brat?" she answered after a moment's pause, during which she was obviously trying to conquer her nervousness, "what about him?"
"He was taken away some days ago? Have you seen him since?"
"He was hanging around outside when I got back the evening before last. Asked if he could come in. But I sent him on his way."
"That doesn't seem particularly hospitable..." I replied, if anything rather bemused at how, given the Reich's core values of family and strength of blood, an eight-year old boy could become so hated...or at least, so worthless in people's eyes.
"It's not like he had a place here. Leona was a nice enough lass, but after she died, as soon as I had permission from the police, I had her things thrown out and re-let the apartment."
"Are you always so...prompt?" I asked, quietly, trying to mask my annoyance at her attitude.
"I always do my best to be efficient, as the RDP tells us to be," she answers, "there are people who need good homes in Berlin. I was doing my bit for them."
"You didn't care what happened to the boy? He's what...eight years old? Nine?
"He was a little trouble maker and to be honest, Mein Herren, I'm glad he's gone."
"Did he say where he was going?"
"I didn't ask. I just told him to get lost," she replied. She paused a moment, obviously plucking up courage to ask something, and eventually succeeded. "Mein Herren, the boy was trash. He was never going to amount to anything. Might I ask why you care?"
I looked her directly in the eye, and put the fear of the gods into her as I answered.
"No, you may not, Hauswirtin Schuler."
She positively quailed, and went silent. I realised there was little else I was going to learn from her, and so I waited for her to salute - which she duly did - and then turned on my heel and headed back to the carriage, Hoffman falling into step beside me.
"Herr Reichsführer," he said finally, once we were back in the carriage, "am I permitted to know why you care about this Gerlinde child? The rumours..."
"Rumours?"
"It's been suggested he's your son, Herr Reichsführer. Is that true?"
"Do you really believe that I would sleep with a shape shifting whore?" I answered, and he looked suitably chastened. Still, if that rumour was doing the rounds...I made a mental note to find out if it had been Wendel who had been responsible for it, and if so, perhaps good staff wasn't that hard to replace after all.
I debated with myself whether to leave it at that, but after all, Hoffman's position was rather different to some cheap Hauswirtin in a low-rent area of Berlin. Hoffman had sworn to give his life for me if required, and he was one of the Knights of the SS.
"You remember the guest we have in the Wewelsburg," I said, finally, "the one who has been assisting us in a number of different ways for the last ten years."
As a Knight, he naturally knew exactly who I was referring to, as he had been involved in every ceremony since he had been initiated into the Order in December '74. So rather than speak my nephew's name, he merely nodded.
"Dominik Gerlinde is the eldest child our guest has given the Fatherland during his stay. As you are well aware, such children are a valuable resource for us."
He nodded again.
"Then you understand that losing even one such child could have consequences for the future of our nation: it could make us weaker than we would otherwise be."
"I understand completely, Herr Reichsführer."
"Good. Now, where else might the boy have gone?"
"It's hard to say. He probably wouldn't have papers, and he's a minor, so getting lodging at a boarding house would be difficult. Maybe a friend of his mother's in the red light district? Or maybe he's disappeared into the arches in the industrial area. Do you know if he's a good looking child?"
"His parents both are...were...so it's likely. I haven't seen him since he left the Lebensborn Centre, so I don't know how he's changed."
"A pretty child with nowhere else to go...male or female, it raises some other unpleasant possibilities."
"Let us hope for the sake of all concerned that that isn't the case," I replied, knowing exactly what he was suggesting, and sadly being unable to discount it. Berlin breeds people of many tastes, "Obviously I can't pursue enquiries in person beyond this. I'm too noticeable. I would like you to organise the Honour Guard to see if you can find him."
"All of them?"
"Leave Schavan and two others with me. Take the rest. Keep this confidential. And if you locate him, inform me at once."
"Yes, Herr Reichsführer."
I had the carriage drop me back at Hradcany, and then headed back upstairs to my office to think. I didn't need to check that Hoffman was doing as I ordered. I knew that he would be. But I did consider whether there was any way I could assist remotely. Of course, one option would be to see if I could use the Pattern to track the boy. After all, unless any of my older protégés had been careless, there would be remarkably few Real individuals in Berlin, so one out of place had a good chance of being him.
But Berlin was a big city: more than six million souls, and a substantial area to cover. And of course I had other duties, so I couldn't spend every waking moment searching for the boy. It wasn't going to be quick...
That evening, instead of returning home to Panenske Brezany, I headed for the apartment I keep in the SS village for emergencies and the occasional dalliance. I changed out of uniform, into something more comfortable and poured myself a Scotch. Then, after a decent meal which I had had my orderly prepare for me when I'd first realised I was planning on staying up in town, I settled down and readied myself to get to work.
Wanting to get the first of Hoffman's suggestions out of the way, I turned my lens towards Berlin's somewhat extensive entertainment and red light district, and started to scan. After about half an hour, I couldn't help but notice at least one Real individual at Salon Kitty - one of the brothels around town that Kessler's people keep as potential sources of information and leverage. While it seemed an unlikely location to find an eight-year old, I focused in just in case, to see Jochen Peiper, Head of the Waffen-SS, taking his pleasure from one of the women there. It was too good an opportunity to miss, so I decided it was likely that his endeavours would bear fruit, before leaving him to his entertainments and moving on. However, sadly, the rest of my evening gave me nothing. Wherever Dominik was, it wasn't in that section of the city.
When Hoffman came to see me the next day, he indicated that his investigations hadn't discovered anything definite as yet, but that he would continue to try. That evening, I also continued my search, this time concentrating on the industrial areas where some of the poorer members of society, who we hadn't yet found alternative accommodation for, often gathered. Nothing. It was as if the boy had disappeared into thin air. The following evening, I would have to take my search to the wealthier areas of Berlin, to see if anyone had felt that they were sufficiently powerful, that taking a boy from the streets and using him for whatever they wished would pass unremarked.
Before that, though, perhaps one other avenue was open to me. First thing the following morning, I made an appointment to see Emil Urs.
I met him at his officer in the Chancellory, and as I walked in and we exchanged salutes, I could see that he was sweating...nervous. Not that that was surprising, of course, given that there was every chance he had been responsible for a woman's death, and the RFSS had just called on him. We had met on occasion before, usually at state functions, and as always, everything about the man made my skin crawl, from his slicked back dirty blond hair, to his sweaty handshake. If he hadn't been one of the most brilliant legal and propaganda minds in the Reich I would have spoken with the Kaiser regarding his removal. I could certainly think of a couple of people better suited for the job.
"How can I help you, Herr Reichsführer?" he asked, finally, after indicating for me to sit.
"You killed a woman about three weeks ago," I stated, as a matter of fact, and enjoyed watching as the colour drained from his face. It's good to be feared, even by those who think they're all powerful
"It wasn't like that," he stammered, after a moment or two, "it was an accident."
"And of course, why would the police bother to look for you, let alone prosecute you, given who died," I answered, pleasantly, and he almost seemed to relax. He certainly nodded in agreement.
"Exactly. It was an accident. Nothing important. No-one who mattered."
"So tell me everything you can remember about her son."
"An unruly child. Difficult. Stupid ...his grades at school were appalling...possibly even simple."
From what I had observed of Dominik before I'd given him into her charge, it was almost hard to believe that we were talking about the same child. The boy who had left the Lebensborn Centre had been bright, keen and doing well compared to his peers, and again I mentally kicked myself for bending to the woman's pleas.
"Did he have any friends? Any favourite places? Where did you send him to when you wanted to fuck his mother, and he was in the way."
He looked startled at my bluntness, but after the boy had been missing for three days, when the average temperature in Berlin hadn't crawled above zero, I was losing patience. However, I contrived a pleasant smile, and again enjoyed watching as his colour worsened again.
"Sometimes he would just stay downstairs. Other times he went out to the park. Occasionally, I believe he headed into the Stadtzentrum, if I gave him the money for the fare."
"Ignoring, of course, the fact that minors aren't considered responsible for their actions, and that if they get into trouble, it's their parents' fault."
"It wasn't like that. I loved Leona."
"And yet you killed her."
"She fell. It was an accident," he protested, but I could see from his eyes that there was more to it than that. Still, I wasn't there to solve Leona's death, so I let it pass.
"Where would he go when he was in town?"
"The Tiergarten. The Imperial Park. Sometimes the Reichsplatz...he liked to watch the soldiers."
"Anywhere else? Any friends."
"He didn't seem to have friends. Too stupid."
"But you left him alone anyway?"
"Natural selection, Herr Reichsführer. If he wasn't fit to live, nature would take its course."
I felt like I wanted to strangle him, criticising a child who was so much more than Urs could ever be, but I held my temper. After all, after a fashion, survival of the fittest was a keystone of Reich policy - the fittest, of course, being the Aryan people.
"Where did he go to closer which was to home?"
"Kaltenbrunner Park. Off Linienestrasse."
I knew the place. It was a rundown area which had been scheduled for redevelopment. I half recalled a couple of boarded up buildings there. And it seemed a more likely location than the Berlin Stadtzentrum, where he would have been found by the patrols, and either moved on or taken into custody by now.
"Thank you, Chairman Urs," I said, getting to my feet, "you've been most helpful."
"Will you be bringing chargers?" he asked, nervously, "over Leona's death."
"Not unless you give me cause to, Herr Chairman," I answered with my most sincere smile, and then I offered him a salute. He accepted, and I turned and left the room, smiling slightly to myself at the fact that the little toad would now worry what I was going to do for some time to come. And who knows, perhaps that fear would be useful one day.
I headed back to my office, called in Hoffman, and asked him to realign the search on the locations Urs had given me, in the hope that our beloved Chairman had actually told me something useful. He came to report early that evening, and finally there was a glimmer of a result. He reported that Hauptsturmführer Lukas Ebert, another of the Guard, had discovered that one of the pavilions in Kaltenbrunner Park was being used as shelter by a group of non-Citizens, and that he'd seen a boy of roughly the right age with them. It was the best lead we'd received in two days of looking.
I made a few calls to arrange for a squad of men to meet us there in case of trouble, and then headed downstairs to my carriage, Hoffman falling in with me as I went. Once I reached the vehicle, I ordered Holtz to take us to that location.
It was long dark by the time we arrived, and the snow which had been threatening all day had finally started to fall. The park itself was weakly lit by the occasional lamp-post, although only about half of them were still functioning. Off to one side, I saw Ebert and the group of soldiers I had requested, commanded by an Obersturmführer Betz, and crossed to them to give them my orders. The soldiers were to surround the buildings at a distance of about 200 metres, and then hold position until I said so. I also reminded them that anyone they were likely to meet should be considered non-Citizens, unless I said otherwise. After all, with the exception of Dominik, even if any of them had begun as Citizens, to have ended up in a place such as this, they no longer deserved that designation.
Once that was done, Ebert fell in with me and I returned to my carriage. I made myself comfortable, and then brought up the Pattern. After all, there seemed no point getting any closer if this was another fool's errand. I sent the lens over towards the pavilion, and as I scanned the building, I detected one Real person and probably half a dozen other normal humans. I decided against jumping in blindly, just in case there was more to this than there seemed. Instead, I stood once more, indicated for Hoffman and Ebert to flank me, and then threw up an illusion spell so that our approach would be unremarked. Then we headed towards our destination.
As we got closer, even in the half light and snow I could see how decrepit the place was, and I could smell the stench of the human refuse who had been using it recently. Occasionally, I caught a movement out of the corner of my eye, but was confident that the snow would dull any sound of our approach. I sharpened my vision slightly, confident that such a luxury wouldn't be noticed by my companions, and could see that the few windows had been broken and boarded up. However, I also noted that the boards at the bottom of the door had been levered off. And through that hole, I could see the faint red glow of a small fire.
We moved briskly, and once we were at the doorway I returned my vision to normal. We drew our weapons, and then I cast a spell which would shatter the boards on the door. The wood was blasted inwards, and we strode in. As we entered, I saw the other individuals in here first look up at us startled, and then melt back against the walls in fear, as they recognised us for what we were. I suppose the leather trench coats and death's head caps were something of a giveaway.
Then Hoffman and Ebert covered them, keeping them cowed, while I went looking for my quarry. My lens had indicated that he was in one of the corners, some distance from the fire, and as I glanced in that direction, I saw a small figure, huddled in terror and stinking in his own fear. And as I approached, he looked weakly towards me, and I recognised Leona's features in that face. I had never seen anything quite so pitiful, and to know who he was, and what he could be...
Without thinking, I picked him up, feeling a rush of unaccustomed emotion which almost threatened to break my composure. Pity? Sorrow? Regret? I wasn't even sure I could identify it.
The boy was barely conscious and obviously frozen. Mindless of the stench, I opened my coat and positioned him over my shoulder within it, then closed it round him so he could gain some of the benefit from it, and then headed back towards the door. As I did, I felt him go limp. I walked out of that stinking hovel, Hoffman and Ebert covering my exit, and soon we were outside, wiping the shit from the floor from our boots in the snow.
I gave a single whistle, and then we headed back for the carriage. And behind us I heard the sound of Betz's men moving in to burn the building, as I had ordered.
"Where now, Herr Reichsführer?" Holtz asked as we reached the vehicle.
"You drive back to the Castle. I'll take the boy straight to Bad Tölz."
He saluted and climbed up on the box, then flicked the reins and urged the horses into motion. Hoffman and Ebert stayed with me, as I brought the Pattern to mind and jumped us near to the front door of the Bremen Lebensborn Centre at Bad Tölz, just far enough away that the guards would have time to recognise us before opening fire. They saluted smartly, and then one of them opened the door for us and we headed inside.
The Kommandant of the centre met us moments later, drawn out of her office by the commotion, and I ordered her to take us to the medical wing, where I could get some idea of what state Dominik was in...and indeed, whether it was too late when I found him. Neither she nor my escorts were gauche enough to mention the smell.
Once I had delivered him to the medics, I made my excuses and headed for one of the bathrooms to clean up. Thank the gods for laundry spells. Then a short while later, coat over my arm, I returned to the medical bay. The nurses had cleaned the boy up somewhat, and the doctor was surveying the condition of his patient. He had been badly beaten, relatively recently, and was very undernourished, which to me explained why his inherent shape shifting hadn't healed the damage. The doctor's guess was that he hadn't had a proper meal for about three weeks.
Probably since his mother died.
I gave them my orders - to care for the boy and keep me informed of his progress - and then, collecting my escort, I took myself up to the Wewelsburg, near to which building's grounds the Bad Tölz facility was located. I left them in the courtyard and headed for my quarters, where I stripped off my uniform jacket, threw it over the back of one of the chairs, and poured myself a drink.
As I sat, I found that I was shaking, and couldn't really understand what was wrong, until I analysed the fact and realised that it was caused by a combination of shock and relief. A release of the pent-up emotions. Somewhere during my search for the child my feelings had moved from locating a lost asset to actually caring what happened to him. A genuine human reaction to Dominik's plight.
I emptied my glass in one swallow, and felt myself steadying, and eventually regained my composure. If this was how I was going to react whenever ever anything bad happened to one of my protégés...
Obviously, discovering I could care was going to be a steep learning curve.
* * * * * * *
July RY094
The Trump call woke me at about four in the morning, and when I checked who my caller was, I saw that it was Kessler. I answered the Trump, albeit rather sluggishly and not with a great deal of enthusiasm, making sure that the link was audio only.
"This had better be good," I said, tartly.
"I would not have disturbed you if it were not serious, Herr Reichsführer," he answered, "we have a situation."
From the tone of his voice, I knew it was important.
"What?"
"The Party Chairman, Dr Urs. He's been found dead."
C'est la vie. I doubted the world would miss him much, although no doubt we'd throw him an impressive State funeral, in recognition of his services to the Fatherland and the Party.
"I'm guessing it isn't natural causes?"
"He was found in one of the alleyways in the red light district, with a broken neck."
"Marvellous," I replied, my tone indicating that I felt just the opposite. It was a sordid end for an unpleasant individual. "The stupid bastard never did know when to stop, did he?"
Kessler wisely didn't comment.
"I'll call you back," I replied, and broke the link, then dragged myself out of bed. I quickly splashed water on my face and dressed, conjuring up a cup of coffee in the process to try to wake myself up. By the time I got back to him, a few minutes later, I felt a bit more human, and hopefully looked it. I extended my hand as he answered the call, and stepped through to join him.
Around me I could see a number of SD operatives combing the scene, checking out the body and so on. Kessler fell into step beside me, and I went over to look at the body myself. As I stared at it, dispassionately, I couldn't help thinking that he made a miserable corpse, and from the smell he'd even fouled himself as he died.
"Sic transit glorium Urs, eh Kessler?" I mused.
"Yes, Herr Reichsführer," he answered, obviously not sure what else to say.
Looking down at the body, my initial forensic opinion was that his attacker had surprised him from behind and broken his neck in a single movement. It had required either brute strength or military training...or quite possibly both. Of course, with the system of military State Service, the latter was a fairly common trait.
"Who found him?"
"One of the escorts from the Reiner Club. She uses the alley as a shortcut to her apartment," he answered, and indicated a relatively attractive woman off to one side, speaking with one of the SD investigators.
"Do we know where he spent the night?"
"We're canvassing the area. I've also called for the coroner and a forensics mage to see what more can be learned from the body. As soon as I know any more, you will, sir."
"Very good. I suppose someone is going to have to inform his family. See if they can come up with the names of any particular enemies he had."
"He lived in one of the mansions on the Wannsee with, I believe, a wife and daughter. I'll have someone inform them."
"Probably better if you do it yourself, Kessler. Wouldn't want them to think we weren't giving due attention to the case."
"Of course, Herr Reichsführer."
"Well, it seems you have things in hand here. I'll head back to Hradcany and await your report."
He saluted smartly, and as by then I knew that there was no point returning home to try to sleep, I brought a Trump of my office in Hradcany to mind and transferred myself through. There was always paperwork to catch up on while I waited..
He brought his initial report to me at lunchtime.
"The coroner's report is back. Broken neck. Single twist."
"And the forensics report?"
"The killer was careful, but not careful enough. We have a rough description from the forensics mage. Short dark hair. Fairly well built. About 6'1". His impression was that the murderer was young from his strength and how he moved...maybe recently out of State Service. He's got an artist working on an image now."
"That's a start, at least."
"There's another thing, sir. My men have canvassed the area, and discovered that Urs had been at Salon Gratia."
"Nothing changes, it would seem," I commented.
"He obviously liked his dalliances with a touch of spice," Kessler replied, keeping a straight face, "we're talking to the escorts there now. Seeing if anyone was there last night who matches the forensics mage's description. And failing that, we'll take the picture over once it's been completed."
"The ReichsKanzler is going to want the head of whoever did this," I mused, "justice must be seen to be done, and all. Especially regarding such a...beloved figure."
"Naturally, I will keep you informed, sir," Kessler answered and I knew I could trust him to do just that.
And he's nothing if not efficient. By 5pm he had the list of Salon Gratia's clients the previous evening on my desk, along with the picture which the artist had come up with. The name he had given was Nicky, although, of course, very few people visiting an establishment like that give their real names - and the escort he had passed the evening with had identified the picture, and also commented that he was a student, and had been a regular for a couple of months. He had also been friendly with the deceased, and they had left together the previous evening. An open and shut case.
"Find him," I ordered, "Bring him in. Do it quickly and quietly."
"Yes, Herr Reichsführer," he answered, "it will be done at once."
About an hour and a half later, he phoned from the guard room on the upper cell level of the castle, to say that 'Nicky' was being held downstairs. I pulled on my jacket and then headed down to see the prisoner, accompanied by Lukas Ebert, Head of the Guard since Hoffman had died in the line of duty, three years before. Looking in through the bars in the cell door, I knew I recognised him. He'd matured into a good looking young man, with his mother's colouring and fascinating eyes...a far cry from the filthy waif I'd pulled out of the pavilion in Kaltenbrunner Park. He was standing, leaning against one of the walls, and seemed strangely calm.
"Where did you find him, Jürgen?"
"He was coming out of lectures at the university," he replied, "we observed until he was alone and then took him into custody."
"Has he said anything?"
"Not a word," came the answer, "however I don't think he was surprised when we caught up with him."
"Probably not," I acknowledged, "I'll speak with him alone."
"I can't advise that, Herr Reichsführer," commented Ebert, "if he is the one who killed Chairman Urs..."
"So noted, Sturmbannführer Ebert," I answered, "however, I will take the risk."
Reluctantly he stood back, and I was let into the cell. As I entered, and he recognised me - after all, mine is one of the best well known faces in the Reich, and he had done his State Service with the SS - he straightened up and saluted. I took a moment to throw up an anti-eavesdropping ward, and then looked at him.
"Hello, Dominik."
He seemed surprised that I knew his name, but he tried to hide it as I continued.
"Why did you do it?" I asked.
"He killed my mother, Herr Reichsführer," he answered, meeting my gaze. I could see he was frightened, but at the same time there was a certain amount of defiance in his eyes as well.
"But was that worth giving your life for?"
He looked at me, and then gave a wry, not entirely pleasant smile.
"Yes, it was worth it," he replied.
"How long have you been planning this?"
"Since I finished my State Service. Before that it was wishful thinking, as I didn't have the skills to go through with it."
"Oh Dominik," I said, quietly, and I saw a flash of surprise cross his face at the tone of address I'd used, "what am I going to do with you?"
"I imagine you'll have me shot..." he answered, with one of the best displays of sangfroid I've ever seen, "although I'm not sure whether you'll want to make a public spectacle of me, or just do it in a quiet courtyard somewhere. I hear the Bendlerblock is occasionally used for such things."
His attitude caught me off guard, but he looked at me and shrugged.
"I know what I've done. I don't regret it. And I daresay my death won't make a great deal of difference to the world."
"Don't be such a bloody fool," I snapped, suddenly angry at him, "you've thrown everything away. Your life. Your potential. Everything you could have become. What a waste."
"I'm a shape shifter and the son of a whore," he replied, quietly, "what could I possibly become?"
"In time, I was thinking you might become a Knight of the SS," I answered.
The expression of surprise on his face was a picture as I spoke, but rather than give him time to argue, I continued.
"Dominik, you're Lebensborn. You've done State Service. You're at university and apparently your grades are good. I'd say you have a Hell of a lot of potential. But you don't seem to care."
He looked at me and tried (and mostly failed) to give a nonchalant shrug, obviously attempting to get over his earlier surprised. After all, it's not as if becoming a Knight of the SS was a common reward, even if the majority of members of my organisation aspired to it.
"Maybe I should have just left you to freeze, you stubborn young fool."
"Left me to freeze?" he asked, puzzled.
"In that stinking hut in Kaltenbrunner Park," I replied, and I saw a crack in his resolve.
"It was you that night?"
"Yes."
"It's so blurred...I'd always wondered who pulled me out of that hellhole."
"Right at the moment, I'm not sure why I bothered," I replied, annoyed by his defeatism.
"Am I allowed to know why?"
"Because given who your father is, I had great hopes for you, Dominik," I replied, "however, it would appear that they were in vain. Killing Urs in cold blood makes you a traitor and a murderer."
He met my gaze again, and I could see him debating whether to ask about his father, but in the end he decided against. Instead, I saw a sardonic smile form on his lips.
"I thought that the latter was encouraged in some parts of the SS."
"Then you have a lot to learn," I replied.
"Not really...it would seem my learning days are done."
"Do you want to die?"
"Not particularly."
"Then give me a good case why I shouldn't have you executed."
"Surely even you couldn't arrange that?"
"Currently, only myself, Kessler and a couple of his men know what you've been arrested for."
"Does putting a perverted, drunken murderer out the Reich's misery count?"
"Normally it could be used as a mitigating factor. However, he was also the Party Chairman."
"But how many people actually respected him for himself, rather than for his position?" came the answer.
"You have a different perspective on him than most people, Dominik, because of what happened to your mother."
"Then I'm not sure what you want me to say, Herr Reichsführer. My reasons were personal, although everything I've learned and remembered of the man's private life have made me convinced that he was of less worth than a piece of shit on my boots," he replied, obviously beyond caring enough to guard his tongue, "Still...at least it may prove to you that I'm not averse to making a hard decision...or that I have the strength of character to act if I see something needs to be done."
"What would you have wanted to do with your life, Dominik, if you hadn't ended up here, in this cell?"
"Finish my initial studies as a doctor, and then apply for some kind of training posting at Bad Tölz, probably. I enjoyed doing my State Service with the SS, and was hoping to join as a full-time member once I'd finished the first part of my medical degree. Maybe even do officer training. Not that it's going to happen now."
"And what are your feelings towards the Forstapo?"
"They perform an important service."
"It doesn't bother you that they hunt and kill shape shifters...people like yourself?"
"Not like me...no-one's like me," he answered, and I almost had to give him a prize for sheer arrogance. Then he softened and gave a wry smile. "I've had my certification since I was returned to the Lebensborn Centre. You signed it, I believe. I am officially not a threat to the stability of the Reich. So I'm one of the rare official shape shifters who isn't at risk of being sent to the camps. For that, I thank you."
"Could you serve in the Forstapo?"
"With pleasure, if that's where I would be most useful to you, Herr Reichsführer."
I looked at him, and saw something different in his sardonic expression. Maybe a sense of duty? Dedication. Or possibly just grasping at straws, as he'd finally realised that I might just be able to save him.
"Why most useful to me?"
"If you let me live, I will be your tool, your agent, for as long as I live."
"You would take an oath to that ends?"
In response, he dropped to his knees in front of me and offered me his clasped hands. I took them in my own, curious to see what he was planning to do, as the gesture was so obviously feudal. Then he looked up at me, so his eyes met mine, and spoke.
"I swear to Rupert Delatz, Reichsführer-SS, as keeper and protector of the Reich, loyalty and bravery. I vow to Thee and to the superiors whom Thou shalt appoint, obedience unto death. So help me God."
The variation on the standard SS oath was intriguing. No mention of the Kaiser. He was pledging feudal obedience to me and me alone. It was worth the investment.
I gestured for him to rise, which he duly did, and then stood waiting, regarding my new recruit. His stance was different now, that of a soldier at ease in front of a superior officer, rather than a criminal in front of his potential executioner, and I felt myself smile.
"So be it," I said, keeping my expression firm, "when you are released from here, return to your studies. And once you've completed them, there will be a place for you at Bad Tölz, as a Forstapo officer cadet...On one condition."
He looked at me, and I saw a trace of worry that I was about to pull the rug back out from under him, so I relented.
"Don't screw up again, Untersturmführer Gerlinde," I answered, and then added, "and always remember the Eleventh Commandment."
His expression was one of puzzlement...but then, Biblical study is not part of Reich religion.
"Don't get caught," I supplied, and he broke into a grin.
Then he caught himself, looked formal once more and snapped me a sharp salute.
"I shall arrange for your release. Until later."
And I turned on my heel and crossed to the door, dropping the anti-eavesdropping ward as I knocked for the guard to let me out. As I left the cell, I looked back at him, to see him still standing at ease, waiting.
"Well, Herr Reichsführer?" asked Kessler, as he met me outside.
"As I said earlier in the investigation, the Reichskanzler is going to want the head of whoever did this, and justice must be seen to be done."
"Yes sir."
"Release the prisoner, and then..." I smiled to myself, remembering a film I had seen and enjoyed relatively recently, and I couldn't resist the obvious line, "round up the usual suspects."
He looked at me for a moment, maybe debating whether to question my orders, and then shrugged.
"It will be done, Herr Reichsführer," he answered, and after we had exchanged salutes, he turned on his heels, and headed off up the corridor, his boots echoing on the stone floor of the cell block.