Jenny Plague-Bringer(117)
Esmeralda was cooperating, but making no secret of her unhappiness at being here. She’d stay in the cellblock for now, until Ward sorted out a better means of controlling her. He was sure that would involve Tommy, who still seemed sincere in his loyalty, but Ward wanted to stage things just right.
Trying to focus on work couldn’t distract his mind from the real reason he was awake and wandering—Kranzler. He’d become convinced that the dead Nazi officer was haunting him. Everywhere, but especially when he was alone, he could feel the ghost of Kranzler hovering close to him. He’d even had flashes of Kranzler’s memories. Maybe that meant Kranzler was trying to possess him, take control of his former base, but Ward wasn’t quite ready to call in the priests for an exorcism. Esmeralda could speak with the dead. Maybe he could present the situation to her, in a very limited fashion, and she could find out some things for him. He didn’t have Kranzler’s corpse handy, but she might sense the presence of the ghost, Ward thought.
He shivered, wondering why the hell he was down in the morgue. Most of the bodies here were for testing Esmeralda, people who’d been killed in war zones. Interrogating people after they were dead could prove useful, Ward thought, if only he could convince the intelligence bastards to send him the bodies of higher-level operators.
He heard Kranzler’s voice, speaking in English, which was unusual. Kranzler usually spoke in German, but somehow Ward had no trouble understanding German when he was caught up in one of Ward’s memories.
“Get out of here,” Ward ordered the ghost. “Go away! In God’s name!”
The voice of Kranzler only grew louder, and Ward found himself in another of the dead man’s memories. He was accompanied by the gray-eyed girl called Alise, who’d been quite prominent in the other memories, and another man, tall and dark-eyed, dressed in a finely tailored suit that probably cost a year of Kranzler’s pay.
The other man’s name was Barrett, and he’d come with the visiting group of high Party officials from Berlin, an event for which Kranzler had been nervously preparing for weeks. The officials had brought a handful of foreign dignitaries, mostly wealthy and aristocratic types from Austria, France, or England, all of them bound by a common interest in eugenics. Barrett seemed extremely comfortable among such people—he wasn’t the loutish self-made American that Kranzler might have expected.
Kranzler, Barrett, and Alise had broken away from the main event in the wooden-paneled officers’ dining room, where Alise had given a talk about the National Socialist vision for improving humanity and breeding desirable traits, with a lofty vision for breeding supernormal Aryans, the most evolved humans of all, as the future leaders and warriors of the Reich. Kranzler had followed this up with a shorter talk about the base’s need for additional funding, and now their guests enjoyed wine and cigars. The sound of a Wagner record echoed through the underground corridors.
When Barrett had made his request, Kranzler had asked him to step outside the room, worried about how best to refuse this clearly well-connected guest without arousing conflict. He’d motioned for Alise to follow. Barrett had asked whether there was a morgue, and then insisted they go there.
“What I am about to show you is confidential,” Barrett said. “It is for you only, Herr Kranzler.”
“Alise is our human breeding specialist,” Kranzler told him.
Barrett looked over the pretty German girl. “I can see why.”
“I would like very much to stay, if you don’t mind, sir.” Alise touched Barrett’s hand, and a powerful smile filled his face. His eyes seemed to grow even darker as he regarded her.
“Nothing could please me more,” Barrett told her, and she laughed and leaned against him, as if utterly charmed by his presence. Kranzler knew the opposite was true, that she was the one casting her magic over him. An extremely useful girl, Alise.
“What does the morgue have to do with our breeding project?” Alise asked. “If you don’t mind a simple country girl asking a simple question, Herr Barrett.”
“Mr. Barrett has made a very specific request,” Kranzler told her. “He wishes that we breed him with Juliana.”
“I see...” Alise thought it over in a flash—Kranzler could see her mind working, looking at all the angles. They didn’t want to displease, but there were obvious complications. Juliana was already pregnant with Sebastian’s baby, for one. For another, Kranzler didn’t like the idea of anyone interfering with their research, and he was sure Dr. Wichtmann would agree. “Sir, I hope you understand, but we are only crossing those with extreme supernormal traits, signs of evolutionary advance. We have scoured the world and found only a few. This is the main purpose of our entire project.”