Manfred got slowly up, resentment already replacing fear on his features. “I will get even with you, feeble-minded pig.” Swelling, Montag leaned his face toward Manfred and retorted. “I will break you in two, cow turd!”
“Shut up, both of you! And stand at attention! I am in charge here. If I report you, the SS will see to your correction.” He paused to let the threat sink in. “Heir Eich, I will not report your misbehavior to the Hauptsturmfuhrer this time, on the assumption that you have learned a lesson. But if you undertake to bully anyone again, it will go hard with you. There will be no further leniency. The Obersturmbannfuhrer is already unhappy with your lack of progress, and the Voitar have told him you do not sufficiently apply yourself. You could very easily end up in the army in Russia, staggering through snow with a frostbitten face, a pack on your back, and a thirty-kilo mortar barrel on your shoulder, while angry Russians shoot at you. They would like so large a target.”
He turned to Montag, who stood stiffly at attention. “Heir Montag, do not harm Herr Eich! That is an order! Do you understand me? You do not realize how strong you are.”
“Yessir, Herr Doktor Professor sir!”
“At ease then, all of you. It is time to wash for supper.” Schurz’s demeanor had seemed to show anger, but his aura showed satisfaction, as if he was pleased at Manfred’s comeuppance. As for Macurdy-he was irritated with himself. He now had a dedicated enemy here, and in his position that was dangerous. But damned if he was going to let that tub of shit abuse the old man, whom he outweighed by seventy pounds.
Meanwhile he was impressed with Schurz. O O O
Two evenings later, Macurdy spoke quietly to Berta as they left the rec room. “Fraulein Stark,” he murmured, “you are very pretty.”
Her eyebrows raised. “Thank you, Herr Montag. You are a fine-looking man. You may call me Berta, if you’d like.” Her glance was frankly appraising, with no trace of coyness.
“You may call me Kurt. How could we get to know each other better? Without alarming Herr Schurz?”
He realized he was on the edge of acting out of character, but it seemed necessary, and at any rate, Berta had already seen through him.
“I will think about that,” she answered. “To be alone here is difficult.” She gestured at the south win ell. At that distance Macurdy couldn’t read the guard’s aura, but it was a safe bet he was bored, and probably inattentive. “If we met in my room,” she went on, “the other women would be upset, and perhaps tell. Also, the Schwarzriicken patrol the corridors from time to time.”
Schwarzracken. Blackbacks; a disdainful term. So Berta was no admirer of the SS, the personification of the Nazis. That fitted the sense of-not rebelliousness but disdain that tinged her aura.
They stopped in front of the men’s door, and she lay a light hand on his arm. “You are an interesting man, Kurt, as well as an attractive one. There is much more to you than meets most eyes, and I am very curious.” Then, after a quick look around, she kissed him, her full lips pressing his briefly. “I will find a way,” she said. “I am told-one of the blackbacks propositioned me once-I am told there’s a room in the cellar where we can find privacy. If we can get there.”
She left it at that, and Macurdy went thoughtfully into the men’s quarters. This was developing faster than he’d expected. Now he needed to decide what he wanted to accomplish with this contact.
He only wished her kiss hadn’t given him an erection.
After lights out, he examined what he might hope to accomplish, and at what risk. The basic risk was that Berta would give him away, but her aura belied that. And the scope of her disdain extended beyond the SS to the government, he had no doubt.
As for getting caught: If they moved together under his cloak, the odds seemed good that they wouldn’t be seen, not at night in these indifferently lit corridors. Unless of course they triggered an alarm system. Jangling alarm bells would sharpen attention drastically, probably enough that his cloak would be seen through.