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Authors: Mack Maloney
Tags: Suspense
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and antiseptics-and little else. Few operations were performed and when they were, the surgeons were usually undertrained medics or even unqualified nurses.
The second-class hospital had an even darker side however. Since its opening, there had been dark rumors that Dachau
63
type human experiments were performed there, under the tacit agreement of the Bundeswehr Four leadership. Though meticulous records were kept on all patients entering the facility, there was virtually no accounting for what happened to them once they were admitted.
So it was an extremely rare occasion when Colonel Hantz, the physician, would visit the place. And never in the past had he stooped so low as to actually walk through the patient wards.
But things had changed drastically inside Bummer Four. And so on this morning, Colonel Hantz was indeed walking the floors, speaking with the sick, the injured, the dying, a demeaning task that could only be forced upon him by the First Governor.
Most of the four hundred or so second-class patients were ailing from lack of care of routine maladies-ulcers, appendicitis, swollen tonsils, cataracts.
Some had sustained injuries in typical household or roadway accidents. Others were simply wasting away from incurable diseases.
But there was a small psychiatric ward, and it was here on his last stop of the hurried, distasteful tour, that Doctor Hantz met the sputnik from Gary, Indiana.
The man's story, according to the ward nurse, was typical in many respects. He claimed to be from the large industrial city to the north and that he'd witnessed a horrifying artillery attack several weeks before. A routine check by Hantz with Bundeswehr Four's military intelligence section confirmed that a section of Gary had been the target of a "fright" shelling earlier in the month. The man then made his way south, stumbling inside the Bundeswehr Four military district and making his way up to the crosspoint of Wabash River.
That was when a strange thing happened.
"I had to ford the river," the man told Hantz from his bed. "I was certain that troops were chasing me and I had to get away, or drown trying. I was injured though, and weak from my long walk. So I cried for help, near the place where the drawbridge is located.
"A man came out of the bridge tender's hut and lowered the bridge. He was a priest. He carried me across and
64
brought me to his quarters. He gave me wine and a blanket-a blanket which he had dipped into the waters of the river.
"It was a very hot evening and the wet blanket cooled me considerably. I fell asleep and enjoyed my longest slumber in months, despite my many injuries.
"But when I awoke . . ."
At that point, the man's voice trailed off. Hantz resented the break in the testimony.
"What happened?" he demanded of the man, glancing to make sure his restraining belts were secured to the bottom of the bed. "You awoke and found what?"
The man tried to fight off a bout of tears, but lost the battle.
"I awoke . . ." he said in a halting, raspy voice, "to find that I'd been healed."
65
Chapter Twelve
The Reich Palast
The two enormous oak doors opened slowly to reveal the opulent living quarters of the First Governor.
Two heavily armed Nicht Soldats stood in the doorway, their powerful CETME
G3-J rifles up and ready as always. Between the soldiers stood two teenage girls. Both were dressed scantily. One was wearing the tightest of bikinis. It looked small against her young, well-developed body. The other was clad only in a T-shirt and high heels, an unlikely combination that nevertheless showed off her alluring, if petite, figure.
The two girls had been selected from the vast pool of "talent," that was always available to the First Governor and the top officers of his high command. They'd been sufficiently liquored up and each had been given a codeine tablet for passivity. Exactly what awaited them depended solely on what the First Governor's substantially deviant imagination was conjuring
The second-class hospital had an even darker side however. Since its opening, there had been dark rumors that Dachau
63
type human experiments were performed there, under the tacit agreement of the Bundeswehr Four leadership. Though meticulous records were kept on all patients entering the facility, there was virtually no accounting for what happened to them once they were admitted.
So it was an extremely rare occasion when Colonel Hantz, the physician, would visit the place. And never in the past had he stooped so low as to actually walk through the patient wards.
But things had changed drastically inside Bummer Four. And so on this morning, Colonel Hantz was indeed walking the floors, speaking with the sick, the injured, the dying, a demeaning task that could only be forced upon him by the First Governor.
Most of the four hundred or so second-class patients were ailing from lack of care of routine maladies-ulcers, appendicitis, swollen tonsils, cataracts.
Some had sustained injuries in typical household or roadway accidents. Others were simply wasting away from incurable diseases.
But there was a small psychiatric ward, and it was here on his last stop of the hurried, distasteful tour, that Doctor Hantz met the sputnik from Gary, Indiana.
The man's story, according to the ward nurse, was typical in many respects. He claimed to be from the large industrial city to the north and that he'd witnessed a horrifying artillery attack several weeks before. A routine check by Hantz with Bundeswehr Four's military intelligence section confirmed that a section of Gary had been the target of a "fright" shelling earlier in the month. The man then made his way south, stumbling inside the Bundeswehr Four military district and making his way up to the crosspoint of Wabash River.
That was when a strange thing happened.
"I had to ford the river," the man told Hantz from his bed. "I was certain that troops were chasing me and I had to get away, or drown trying. I was injured though, and weak from my long walk. So I cried for help, near the place where the drawbridge is located.
"A man came out of the bridge tender's hut and lowered the bridge. He was a priest. He carried me across and
64
brought me to his quarters. He gave me wine and a blanket-a blanket which he had dipped into the waters of the river.
"It was a very hot evening and the wet blanket cooled me considerably. I fell asleep and enjoyed my longest slumber in months, despite my many injuries.
"But when I awoke . . ."
At that point, the man's voice trailed off. Hantz resented the break in the testimony.
"What happened?" he demanded of the man, glancing to make sure his restraining belts were secured to the bottom of the bed. "You awoke and found what?"
The man tried to fight off a bout of tears, but lost the battle.
"I awoke . . ." he said in a halting, raspy voice, "to find that I'd been healed."
65
Chapter Twelve
The Reich Palast
The two enormous oak doors opened slowly to reveal the opulent living quarters of the First Governor.
Two heavily armed Nicht Soldats stood in the doorway, their powerful CETME
G3-J rifles up and ready as always. Between the soldiers stood two teenage girls. Both were dressed scantily. One was wearing the tightest of bikinis. It looked small against her young, well-developed body. The other was clad only in a T-shirt and high heels, an unlikely combination that nevertheless showed off her alluring, if petite, figure.
The two girls had been selected from the vast pool of "talent," that was always available to the First Governor and the top officers of his high command. They'd been sufficiently liquored up and each had been given a codeine tablet for passivity. Exactly what awaited them depended solely on what the First Governor's substantially deviant imagination was conjuring
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