The next night he sneaked to the cellar alone, this time with his “pocket knife”-in reality a small set of lock picks. The locks were old-fashioned lever locks, no challenge at all. He supposed they’d been there since the doors were hung.
He began his snoop in the main, central section, where he found the furnace, as large, if not as tall, as a small shp’s boiler, in an unlocked room loud with the sound of screw feed, grinder, blower, fire, and forced draft. He backed out and continued working north, finding nothing interesting until, beneath the north wing, halfway past the ell, he found a powder magazinea room with a large and tidy stack of TNT in half-kilo blocks.
He had no idea why they’d be stored there, but it could easily account for the cellar being so strongly forbidden.
He was more surprised to find a similar stack in the next room. Beyond that, none of the rooms were locked, and none had anything of interest.
The other major discovery was at the end of the corridor: the heavy exit door was locked only by a stout oak bar. This, he realized, was how the guardsmen brought girls in. Opening it, he found an entryway with a dozen steps. It seemed once to have had a covering door; now it was open to the sky. Snow had blown in, and been tracked by booted feet.
This was a far safer way to get out of the building than opening the front door in the face of a guard.
In class he continued to improve. He developed the ability to make visualized movement smooth and realistic, like a movie in three dimensions. When he’d learned to create images he could hear, smell, and feel-images that seemed entirely realhe learned to judge their weight by mentally hefting the images! That phase went quickly, and apparently well enough to satisfy Nargosz, for he graduated to another classroom, joining Schurz and Manfred. How, he wondered, had the Voitar decided he was ready? Seemingly they read neither minds nor auras. The only explanation he could think of was not very convincing, but perhaps-while they might not read thoughts-perhaps they saw and otherwise perceived his created images.
In his new classroom, the Voitu in charge-a gangling giant named Horszath-had them create images of monsters large and small, in three dimensions and fine detail. Monsters that stank. Monsters ugly, dangerous, indestructible and as frightening as possible. Preferably terrifying.
It seemed to him that all of this could have only one purpose: He and the others were to create such monsters in reality, monsters as real as Kurqosz’s hawk-bat, only more frightening. But a mental image couldn’t move around and kill people. At least not en masse. And it seemed to Macurdy that even if they succeeded, all the monsters they might make would be less dangerous than a battery of flak-wagons from the Krupp Works. Certainly far less dangerous than a panzer battalion.
And harder to create. Macurdy found himself unable to get the essence of raw horror that Horszath wanted. Which saved him from having to fake failure, for he had no intention of producing what Horszath wanted.
On his way to the rec room, one evening after supper, Macurdy met Berta in the corridor. “Kurt,” she murmured, “I have learned why the cellar is forbidden us. If you’d like, I will tell you tonight. Privately somewhere.”
That evening he browsed Der Sturmer awhile-it reminded him what the war was about-then played two games of solitaire and went to bed early, trusting e arrival of the others to waken him. After lights out he lay there until the auras around him indicated sleep. Then he cloaked himself and crouched by the door. After the first hall patrol passed, he went to the latrine, relieved himself, checked auras again, and left. When he scratched at the women’s door, Berta was prompt and saucy. He let himself appear nervous, whispering “I am in serious trouble if Schurz discovers I’ve snuck out again.” Then they slipped quietly to the cellar without incident.
This time there was no schnapps or brandy there, only beer. Macurdy wondered aloud whether there’d been any discussion among the blackbacks over who had been into the goods.