The Apocalypse Watch (8 page)

“What in hell would that be?”

“A computer chip entirely compatible with an individual brain’s electrical impulses.”

“A what …?”

“Within years, psychological indoctrination will be a thing of the past. Brainwashing will be history!”

“Come again?”

“Over the past twenty-nine months I’ve experimented with—operated upon—thirty-two patients, often with five or more in varying stages of development—”

“So I’ve been given to understand,” interrupted Traupman. “Patients provided by suppliers, from prisons and elsewhere.”

“Scrutinized, Hans, all male and all with above-average intelligence and education. Those from the prisons were sentenced for such offenses as embezzlement, or selling inside corporate information, or falsifying official government reports for personal gain. Crimes of subterfuge requiring some degree of expertise and sophistication, not violence. The violent mind as well as the less intelligent can too easily be programmed. I had to prove that my procedure could succeed above those levels.”

“Did you prove it?”

“ ‘Sufficient unto the day,’ as the Bible says.”

“Why do I hear a negative, Gerhardt?”

“Because there is one. To date, the implant functions for not less than nine days or more than twelve.”

“What happens then?”

“The brain rejects it. The patient rapidly develops a cranial hemorrhage and dies.”

“You’re saying the brain explodes.”

“Yes. Twenty-six of my patients so expired; however, the last seven lasted progressively from nine to twelve days. I’m convinced that with further microsurgical techniques I can eventually overcome the time factor. Ultimately, and it may take years, it will function permanently. Politicians, generals, and statesmen everywhere can disappear for a few days, and thereafter become our disciples.”

“But for the present circumstances, with this American
agent Latham, you believe he’s ready to be sent out, am I correct?”

“Without question. You’ll see for yourself. He’s in his fourth day, leaving a minimum of five left and a maximum of eight. As our personnel in Paris, London, and Washington inform us that he is needed for no more than forty to seventy-two hours, the risk is minimal. By then we’ll know everything our enemies know about the Brotherhood with the much more important benefit of Latham sending them all off in wrong directions.”

“Let’s go back, if you please,” said Traupman, shifting his legs in the white plastic chair. “Before we get to the procedure itself, what exactly does this implant of yours do?”

“Are you familiar with computer chips, Hans?”

“As little as possible. I leave that to my technicians, as I do the application of anesthesia. I have enough to be concerned about. But I’m sure you’ll tell me what I don’t know.”

“The newest microchips are barely three centimeters in length and less than ten millimeters wide, and they can hold the equivalent of six megabytes of software. That’s sufficient to contain all the works of Goethe, Kant, and Schopenhauer. By using an E-PROM Burner to insert the information into the chip, we then activate the ROM—Read-Only Memory—and it reacts to the sonic instructions delivered to it in the same way a computer search reacts to the codes a programmer enters into a processor. Granted, there is a slight delay as the brain, the
thought
process, adjusts to the interception, the alternate wavelength, but that in itself can only persuade the interrogator into believing the subject is truly thinking, preparing a truthful response.”

“You can
prove
this?”

“Come, I’ll show you.” The two men got up and Kroeger pressed a red button to the right of the heavy steel door. Within seconds a uniformed nurse appeared, a surgical mask in her hand. “Greta, this is the famed Dr. Hans Traupman.”

“Yes, I know,” said the nurse. “A privilege to see you again, Doctor. Please, your mask.”

“Yes, of course I know you!” exclaimed Traupman warmly. “Greta Frisch, one of the finest surgical nurses ever in my operating room. My dear girl, they said you had retired, and for one so young it seemed not only regrettable, but quite unbelievable.”

“I retired into marriage,
Herr Doktor
. With this one.” Greta nodded at Kroeger, who was grinning.

“I wasn’t sure you’d remember her, Hans.”

“Remember? One doesn’t forget a Nurse Frisch, who anticipates your every demand. To tell you the truth, Gerhardt, your credibility just went up the scale.… But why the mask, Greta? We’re not operating.”

“My husband will answer you, sir. These things are beyond me, no matter how often he explains them.”

“The ROM, Hans, the Read-Only Memory. With this patient we don’t care to have too many images of identifiable faces, and yours could fall into that category.”

“Way past me too, Nurse Frisch. Very well, let us proceed.” The trio walked through the doors, entering a long, wide, pale green corridor with succeeding large, square glass windows on either side. Beyond the windows were pleasantly appointed rooms, each having a bed, a desk, a couch, and such items as a television set, a radio, and a door that led to a bathroom with shower. Also, there were other windows on the outside walls that looked over the meadows, profuse with weaving high grass and springtime flowers. “If these are the patients’ hospital rooms,” continued Traupman, “they’re among the most pleasant I’ve seen.”

“The radios and the television sets are preprogrammed, naturally,” said Gerhardt. “It’s all innocuous fare, except for the radios at night, when we transmit information as it pertains to the individual patients.”

“Tell me what I’m to expect,” said the neurosurgeon from Nuremberg.

“You’ll find an outwardly normal Harry Latham who still believes he’s fooled us. He answers to his cover name, Alexander Lassiter, and he’s extremely grateful to us.”

“Why?” interrupted Traupman. “Why is he grateful?”

“Because he believes he was in an accident and barely escaped with his life. We used one of our huge mountain vehicles and staged the event most convincingly, overturning the truck, ‘pinning’ him under it and employing surrounding bursts of fire.… Here I did permit the use of drugs and hypnosis—immediately, so as to erase his first minutes here in our valley.”

“Are you
sure
they’re erased?” They stopped in the corridor, the Nuremberger’s gaze fixed on Kroeger.

“Completely. The trauma of the ‘accident,’ along with the violent images, as well as the pain we induced, superseded any memories of his arrival. They’re blocked out. Naturally, we reemployed hypnosis to make certain. All he remembers are the screams, the excruciating pain, and the fires he was dragged through while being rescued.”

“The stimuli are psychologically consistent,” noted the neurosurgeon, nodding his head. “What about the time factor? If he’s aware of it, how did you explain the passage of time?”

“The least difficult. When he awoke, his upper skull was heavily bandaged, and while under mild sedation he was told—over and over again—that he’d been severely injured, that he had gone through three separate operations while in a prolonged coma during which he remained completely silent. It was explained to him that had his vital signs not remained remarkably strong, I would have given up on him.”

“Well phrased. I’m certain he’s grateful.… Does he know where he is?”

“Oh, yes, we withhold nothing from him.”

“Then how can you send him out? My God, he’ll disclose the whereabouts of the valley! They’ll send in planes; you’ll be bombed out of existence!”

“It will not matter, for as von Schnabe will undoubtedly tell you, we won’t exist.”

“
Please
, Gerhardt, one thing at a time. I will not take another step until you explain yourself.”

“Later, Hans. Greet our patient first, then you’ll understand.”

“My dear Greta,” said Traupman, turning to the wife. “Is this husband of yours the same logical human being I knew before?”

“Yes, Doctor. This part, the part he will explain to you, I
do
understand. It’s brilliant, sir, you’ll see.”

“But first see our patient; he’s the next window, the next door on the right. Remember, his name is Lassiter,
not
Latham.”

“What should I say to him?”

“Whatever you like. I’d suggest congratulating him on his recovery. Come along.”

“I’ll wait by the desk,” said Greta Frisch Kroeger.

The two physicians walked into the room where Harry Latham, his head bandaged around his temples, stood by the large outside window. He turned and smiled; he was dressed in shirtsleeves and gray flannel trousers. “Hi there, Gerhardt. Lovely day, isn’t it?”

“Have you been for a walk, Alex?”

“Not yet. You can damage a businessman, but you can’t take the business out of the man. I’ve been playing with figures; there are fortunes to be made in the Chinese mainland. I can’t wait to fly over.”

“May I present Dr.… Schmidt from Berlin?”

“Glad to meet you, Doctor.” Latham walked over, his hand extended. “Also glad to see another doctor in our amazing complex here, just in case Gerhardt louses me up.”

“I gather he hasn’t so far,” said Traupman, shaking hands. “But then, I hear you’re an exceptionally good patient.”

“I don’t think I had a choice.”

“Forgive the mask, Herr … Lassiter. I have a slight cold and the resident surgeon is a stickler, as you Americans say.”

“I can say it in German, if you like.”

“Actually, I like to practice my English. Congratulations on your recovery.”

“Well, I’ll give Dr. Kroeger some credit.”

“I’m curious, from a medical point of view. If it’s not
too difficult for you, what do you recall when you reached the flatland of our valley?”

“Oh.” Latham/Lassiter paused briefly while his eyes were momentarily glazed, unfocused. “You mean the accident.… Oh, Christ, it was terrible. A lot of it’s a blur, but the first thing I remember is the shouting; it was hysterical. Then I realized that I was stuck under the side of that truck, and a heavy piece of metal was pressed against my head—I’ve never
felt
such pain. And people were all around, trying to lift whatever it was off me—finally freeing me, and dragging me across the grass, where I screamed because I saw the fires, felt the heat, and thought my whole face was going to be burned. That’s when I passed out—for a hell of a long time, as it happened.”

“A terrifying experience. But you’re on your way to full health, Mr. Lassiter, that’s all that matters.”

“If in the new Germany you can find a way to get Gerhardt a mansion on the Danube, I’ll pay for it.” Latham’s eyes were now totally clear, completely focused.

“You’ve done enough for us, Alex,” said Kroeger, nodding at Traupman. “Dr. Schmidt here merely wanted to say hello to our generous benefactor, and to make sure I performed as he taught me to.… Take your walk anytime you like—after you’ve finished figuring out how to extract many more millions from Asia.”

“It’s not that difficult, believe me. The Far East doesn’t merely like money, it worships it. When you decide I’m ready to leave, Gerhardt, the Brotherhood will be richer for it.”

“You are forever in our Teutonic prayers, Alex.”

“Forget the prayers, just bring about the Fourth Reich.”

“We shall.”

“Good day, Herr Lassiter.”

Traupman and Kroeger left and walked up the corridor to the pristine anteroom. “You were right,” said the doctor from Nuremberg, sitting down. “It
is
remarkable!”

“You approve, then?”

“How could I not? Even to the pause in his voice, his clouded eyes.
Perfect
. You have done it!”

“Remember, Hans, it is flawed, I cannot be dishonest about that. Conditions remaining stable in their abnormality, I can guarantee but five to eight days longer, no more than that.”

“But you say London, Paris, and Washington insist it is sufficient, no?”

“Yes.”

“Now, tell me about this nonexistence of the valley. It’s a shock.
Why?
”

“We’re no longer needed. We’re dispersing. Over the past years we’ve indoctrinated—trained—more than twenty thousand disciples—”

“You like that word, don’t you?” Traupman broke in.

“It fits. They’re not only true believers, they are also leaders, both minor and potentially major.… They’ve been sent everywhere, mostly throughout Germany, but those gifted in foreign languages and with appropriate skills, to other countries, all financed, ready to take their places in carefully selected professions and occupations.”

“We’ve progressed so far? I had no idea.”

“Then in your haste you didn’t notice that we have far fewer people here now. The evacuation began weeks ago, our two mountain vehicles operating night and day to remove personnel and equipment. It’s been like a colony of ants deserting one hill for another—our destination and our destiny—the new Germany.”

“About the American, this Harry Latham. Beyond staying in contact to learn what he learns, which probably could be accomplished with paid informers, what’s his function? Or is that it? That and proving your theory for future use.”

“What we learn from him will have value, of course, and will require the use of a miniaturized electronic computer at close range. It can be easily concealed in a small object. But Harry Latham has a far higher calling. If you remember, I mentioned that he will send our enemies scurrying off in different directions. That, however, barely scratches the surface.”

“You’re practically salivating, Gerhardt. Tell me.”

“Latham said he was working on figures, numbers as
they pertain to his making millions from the Chinese economic expansion, yes?”

“He’s probably right.”

“Wrong, Hans. Those figures have nothing to do with finance. They’re codes he’s devised so he’ll forget nothing after he escapes.”

“
Escapes?
”

“Naturally. He has a job to do, and he’s a professional. Of course, we’ll let him.”

“For God’s sake, be clearer!”

“During his weeks here, in our sessions and over lunches and dinners, we’ve fed him hundreds of names—French, German, English, American.”

“
What
names?” Traupman interrupted impatiently.