The Children's War (41 page)

“But then, darling, who would we blame for getting the maids pregnant?” Frau Schindler interjected with a pointed glance at her husband.

“They should be fixed as well!” Herr Schindler snarled.

Frau Schindler smiled graciously. “Or simply remove the women altogether. That’s the trend, isn’t it?”

“Why?” Beate asked.

“They offer too much temptation to our German manhood,” Frau Schindler answered.

“And the men servants?” Beate asked.

“Aryan women aren’t tempted by such things,” Elspeth explained rather piously. Richard noted the strange look her husband gave her.

“We could solve the problem by having them all fixed,” Herr Schindler reiterated.

“I believe the Labor Ministry has weighed these things carefully,” Richard said calmly, “and they’ve come to the conclusion that it would be unwise, under current conditions, to do any such thing to the forced labor.”

“Why?” Beate asked.

“Besides the expense, it would be a public relations nightmare,” Richard explained. “Every state kills people, but not many permanently maim their subjects—at least not in the civilized world.”

“What do we care about public relations?” Herr Schindler asked somewhat belligerently. “Mass sterilization was there in the original plans, and we backed away from it and never have had the courage to follow through. Public relations are for weaklings!” He motioned toward his empty wineglass and muttered a curse at the boy who had failed to refill it quickly enough.

“International relations are important for us,” Richard asserted. “Our economy is faltering without sufficient trade, and besides, we are the master race, we should set an example of civilized behavior.”

“Pah!” Herr Schindler disagreed.

“But wasn’t it common before for civilized societies to castrate slaves, say, in harems?” Beate argued rather more cogently. “I mean, if it’s viewed as normal, would people object? After all, these people aren’t planning on having families anyway. They can hardly manage to take care of themselves, not to mention children. It would be doing them a favor.”

“You’re right,” Richard agreed. “Of course, that has its own problems.” He sipped the last of his wine. The boy behind him refilled his glass as soon as he set it back on the table.

“How so?” Frau Schindler asked.

“Seems it was not uncommon for Roman women, for example, to use castrated slaves for their sexual pleasure. Since the women could not be impregnated, they had nothing to fear.”

“But that’s impossible!” Karl scoffed.

“No, only if it’s done before puberty,” Beate answered. “You see, if it’s done to a fully adult male, then all it prevents is pregnancies, not . . .” She blushed rather than finish the sentence.

“Now that is intriguing,” Elspeth commented. Karl glared at her.

“Yes,” Frau Schindler added.

“Perhaps it could be done so that the men, at least, are rendered, er . . . ineffective,” Karl suggested.

Again the boy opposite Richard allowed an expression to darken his face.

“That would have to be rather brutal,” Richard said. “And there would be the possibility that the subject would feel irrationally vengeful. He would, remember, still be physically fit and quite capable of violence.”

“Ah, that would be a problem,” Elspeth Vogel murmured.

“It could be done before they are even released into society,” Karl suggested. “Slam some anesthesia into their face and the next thing they know, they wake up altered, not knowing who to blame. Imagine the look on their faces!” He snickered. “Like those Italians the Ethiopians got their hands on!”

“I hate to spoil your fun, but I was thinking of something which they would not even know about,” Herr Schindler said. “Something which we could use against inferior populations wholesale, to clear out lands and keep their numbers under control. Let the lowlifes have their sordid little sex lives, I just don’t want them polluting our world with their monstrous little creations.”

“I thought we already had a handle on the indigenous populations in the colonial territories,” Elspeth commented. “There’s been a steady decline, and I thought we were keeping the rest for labor purposes . . .”

“Out East, yes! That’s the way we should have done it all!” Schindler howled. “It’s the West that needs control. Do you know, taken together, they outnumber us? They breed filth and corruption right into our society! We must do something!”

“Yes, it is clear that we do need some method of keeping the lower castes under control,” Richard conceded.

“Perhaps an education campaign,” Beate suggested.

“Hah!” Herr Schindler scoffed. “They’re too stupid to learn. That’s obvious! If you knew the statistics on illicit births, the squalling bundles that turn up in Dumpsters and on doorsteps. God knows how many are kept by their mothers,
running around, undocumented, unclassified, not serving any purpose, draining our coffers.”

“Is there any way to do that?” Beate asked.

“Do what?” Elspeth asked, confused.

“Sterilize people without their realizing it,” Richard explained.

“Is there?” Elspeth asked Richard.

He shrugged. “Radiation, perhaps.”

“No, no, no,” Herr Schindler disagreed. “We’d want to be more selective than that! Wouldn’t want to get our own after all!”

“Well, then, is there a way?” Richard asked.

Herr Schindler smiled. He turned toward the elder boy and said, “You two, go into the cellar and pull out a crate of the Bordeaux ’87. I want you to carefully remove each bottle and clean the dust off each. Remember, like I taught you! Then, when you’ve done that, decant one bottle and bring it to us. And don’t you dare disturb the sediment or it will be your hides! Understood?” As he finished, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small ring of keys and threw them at the feet of the boy.

Without his expression changing in the slightest, the boy stooped to pick up the keys as he said,“Understood,
mein Herr.”

After he and his companion left the room, Herr Schindler paced to the door, checked they were gone, and said, “That will keep them busy for a few minutes.” He sat back down at the table, enjoying the atmosphere of mystery he had created, and then, leaning forward over his plate and lowering his voice conspiratorially, said, “The Führer has plans . . .”

44

“Y
OU
COME HERE OFTEN?”
Stefi asked the young officer. She sipped her drink, demurely peering over the glass at him. He was a short fellow with thin brown hair that was already, prematurely, receding.

“What? Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t notice you there.” The young man seemed nervous and somewhat out of place in the large hall.

“I asked if you come to these official parties very often,” Stefi repeated, rephrasing the question toward something she hoped he could handle.

“Only when my father makes me.”

“Which one is he?” Stefi asked, indicating the dignitaries, officials, and officers standing around, munching on appetizers and chatting.

“That one.” The young man pointed toward an older man.

“Oh! Isn’t that Herr Schindler?”

“Yes. That’s him all right.”

“My name’s Stefi.”

“Oh.”

“What’s your name?”

“Me? Oh, I’m Wolf-Dietrich.”

“Pleased to meet you.” There was an awkward silence, then Stefi added, “I really hate these things. I feel so out of place here.”

“You, too?”

“Yeah. Do you mind if we just chat a bit? That way I can say I socialized.”

“I don’t think that’s wise. I have a girlfriend.”

“Is she here?”

“No, but . . .”

“Oh! I’m sure she wouldn’t mind if you are friendly to a poor lost soul. I’m just visiting Berlin, and I don’t know anybody here, and I was hoping we might be friends.” Stefi paused, waited an appropriate few seconds, then added in a carefully provocative voice, “Just for the time I’m here. Only temporary, you see.”

Wolf-Dietrich suddenly lost interest in the chandelier that he had been studyingand turned his full attention to her. He let his eyes stray down her body, notingthe deep cut of her dress, the curve of her waist, the long legs just barely visible through a demure cut in her gown. “Temporary, you say?”

“Yes. I’m just looking to have fun,” Stefi answered with a winning smile.“How about you?”

“I’m only in town for a few weeks. I have a girlfriend here, but we don’t get to see each other that often. It’s sort of a leftover relationship.”

“So, where you are, there are no women?”

“No. It’s a research lab located way out in the middle of the heath. Nothing around for miles. Of course, I could go into town, but, well, it’s not really my style to just meet women in bars.”

“Which town?” Stefi asked.

“Hamburg,” Wolf-Dietrich answered. “Oh, I’m not supposed to . . . oh, I’m sure, no harm done. Just don’t tell anyone I told you that.”

“Of course not. You know, I think that’s really nice, that you don’t go barhopping. A handsome young officer like you would have, I’m sure, no trouble picking up all sorts of women.”

“You think?”

Stefi nodded solemnly. “In fact, I’m sure the village girls are all over you.”

“We’re not even close to a village.”

“Nothing?”

“For miles. The area was cleared out years ago for some reason or another.”

“Where does the help come from?”

“Oh, most of them are army and live there. Some locals come in, but they’re all men or old and haggard.”

“Too bad! I had heard the girls in that region were especially beautiful.”

“Well, if they are, they are kept well-hidden.”

“Have you ever been into the village?”

“Which one?”

“Any of them.”

“Well, I haven’t seen Undeloh, but everyone assures me there’s nothing there. As for Döhle, it’s a dump.”

“Pity.” Stefi sipped her drink and waited for Wolf-Dietrich to say something. When it became apparent he was incapable of initiating a conversation, she asked, “If you don’t get to see her often, why isn’t your girlfriend here?”

“Her Women’s League is off somewhere improving the world,” Wolf-Dietrich answered grumpily.

“That is a pity,” Stefi sighed. “I think a girl should be around for her man. If you’re not here most of the time, she should make a point of being here when you are.”

“You think?”

“Yes.”

“I said something like that, and she said, since I’m never around, I shouldn’t begrudge her a few days away.”

“Sounds like she has her priorities wrong.”

“You think?”

“Yes. Or maybe, she has somebody else who takes greater priority?”

“I doubt it.”

“Oh?” Stefi asked, intrigued by his self-confidence.

“Yeah, she’s not going to let me go
that
easily!” Wolf-Dietrich declared bitterly.

“You think she only likes you for your father’s position?”

“I know she does! Worse than that, it’s her father who tells her to like me.”

“Then why do you stick with her?”

“Have to. Dad would kill me if I broke it off.”

“He’s using you?” Stefi asked with genuine sympathy.

Wolf-Dietrich looked across the room at his father, then at Stefi. He considered her for a moment, then looked back at his father. He looked rather sad but did not say anything.

“I won’t quote you,” Stefi said softly.

“ ‘We are all loyal tools of the state,’ ” Wolf-Dietrich quoted. “ ‘We all serve the Fatherland in whatever capacity we can.’ ”

“But we can choose our form of service,” Stefi suggested.

“See that man there?” Wolf-Dietrich pointed to one of the waiters.

“Yes. What about him?” Stefi asked, lowering her voice.

“They have them in special uniforms for tonight, so you can’t tell, but I know, he’s a
Zwangsarbeiter
. If you look closely, you can see the manacle on his wrist.”

“So?”

“So, he’s serving the Fatherland.”

Stefi furrowed her brow, then remembering that made her unattractive, she raised her eyebrows and smiled questioningly.

“He’s lucky. He knows exactly what to do and exactly when to do it. He just does whatever he’s told to do, and he serves the Fatherland. No second-guessing, no screwing up, no father constantly trying to manipulate others through him,” Wolf-Dietrich whined.

Stefi looked closely at the man Wolf-Dietrich was talking about. He was probably close enough to overhear their conversation, but Wolf-Dietrich spoke as if he were deaf, and the servant betrayed no sign of having heard a word. “You can still make choices about what you do,” she suggested.

“Choices! Hah! It’s all been chosen for me! I’m a conduit, nothing more!”

“A conduit, yes,” Stefi repeated sympathetically. “It must be horrible for you.” She exuded sympathy and companionship and coaxed Wolf-Dietrich into exploring his feelings even further. As their conversation progressed, she confided to him how she also felt used by her father. Wolf-Dietrich was intrigued, and together they compared notes and exchanged condolences, then Stefi smiled. “I have an idea. You’re a conduit, I’m a conduit. Maybe we could satisfy our fathers’ ambitions and still win our freedom.”

“How?”

“Your father wants an alliance, my father wants an alliance. If you and I became an ‘item,’ we might be able to convince them to let us switch from our current assigned partners to each other.”

“Well, no offense, but how would that be any better?” Wolf-Dietrich asked. “We’d still have to follow through with some sort of sham partnership.”

“We could take our time, have an understanding between you and me, and then, when push comes to shove, we just have a huge blowup and the whole thing becomes impossible!” Stefi gleefully explained.

Wolf-Dietrich looked intrigued. “Who’s your father?”

“Traugutt,” Stefi announced while discreetly pointing toward him.

“I’ve never heard of him. Is he important?”

“Not like your dad, not yet, but he will be soon,” Stefi answered.

“Ah, it will never work. My father is not interested in promoting other people’s careers.”

“He won’t have to be. Just give my father time. In the meanwhile, you and I can get to know each other a bit. There won’t be any harm in that, will there? After all, if it doesn’t work out, well, we can still have fun.”

Wolf-Dietrich contemplated the chandelier again.

“What harm is there in trying?” Stefi asked.

“We’d have to keep it hush-hush. At least at first. Could you do that?”

Stefi nodded. “No problem. I’m used to secrets.”

“Me, too. But won’t you get jealous, knowing I’m with another girl sometimes? Knowing that I can’t talk about you?”

Stefi shook her head. “We can be friends. You can tell me all about her. Believe me, it won’t bother me one bit to keep our friendship quiet, just between us. Not one bit.”