Macurdy met her gaze mildly. "I know what people feel sometimes."

"I am sure you do. Herr Schurz thinks you read auras, and I believe he is right."

Macurdy neither verified nor denied it. "You do not show very much what you feel," he said, "even to me. But I don't mind. It is not necessary that I know."

Her aura and face both reflected wry irritation. "Do not be coy with me, Herr Montag. If we are to work together, please show me some respect."

"My apologies. I do respect you, and I am ready to listen." She looked away, gathering her thoughts, then returned her gaze to him. "There is serious risk in what they have planned for us," she said, "but considering everything, I believe we can succeed." She paused. "Of course, if we are captured, we may be executed."

He ignored the comment. "Can you read the Colonel's thoughts?"

"As necessary"

"Does he know that?"

"He knows I am a telepath, but has decided not to be troubled by it."

"What have you learned from him?" He asked the question as much for her reaction as for information.

Her gaze was direct, calm but intent. "He has considerable confidence in both of us. Remarkably, he trusts us."

"Have you learned anything from him about the Voitar?"

"Quite a bit. It seems they came here through some `opening' on the Witches' Ridge. But you know more about that than I. Apparently in their country, explosives are useless, but they are interested in steam engines and water pumps. Also in ship building'."

Ship building? That definitely seemed false.

"In return they train us, mostly without useful results, probably because of our shortcomings as psychics, rather than theirs as teachers. Also, eight of them will travel to northern France, to help fight the invasion when it comes. To do what it seems we cannot-create terror monsters that are real, physical, and set them against the enemy."

Macurdy tried to imagine what those monsters would be like. Physical, she'd said. Vaguely he remembered nightmares, and a chill ran over him.

"When do they leave?"

"In May. On the tenth, unless it's been changed again."

"How will they get there?"

Anna seemed unhappy with the question, as if she'd struggled with it before, to no good conclusion. "Not by rail," she said. "They will travel on rivers and canals. There was also something about walking. Or"-she shrugged uncomfortably-"running, actually. Accompanied by a motorized escort. It makes no sense."

To Macurdy it did. Certainly more sense than an interest in shipbuilding. "When do we leave?"

"I don't know. But soon, obviously." Anna got up. "It is time you returned to your drills."

Montag nodded. The drills were definitely a waste of time now, but orders were orders, and anyway there was nothing else to do. If he had his way, they'd leave the next day.

That evening, leaving the dining room, Anna's aura reflected repressed excitement, though physically she seemed her usual calm self. She paused outside the door, and as he passed, she murmured, "Very soon now. Very soon."

Tomorrow? he wondered. The next day? She should have been explicit. Or maybe she didn't know explicitly.

Afterward, in the reading room, Berta sat down beside Montag while he played solitaire. "You've been back for a week now," she murmured.

He nodded, then got up. "Let's talk in the corridor," he replied, and they went out.

"The rumor," Berta said, "was that you went somewhere with the Voitar. To wherever they came from." She put light fingers on his arm. "You and I should go to the party room. I've missed you. And I am curious."

"I'd have invited you," Montag said, "but while I was gone, I had more sex than I could handle. For the first time in my life. I'm not sure I've recovered yet."

"I've seen you with that scrawny little Hofstetter lately. Perhaps you have enough energy to take her downstairs."

"You live in the same room with her. You should know whether she slips out at night."

"Perhaps you screw her during the day. You are known to go into an empty classroom together. Apparently with permission."

"You might ask Schurz why we do that. Or Colonel Landgraf. They know. We are under orders, she and I."

Berta sulked. "Orders! She is a Jewess. That sharp face, scrawny body…"

"If she was sent here by the Gestapo, as I was, that is hardly possible."

Berta deflated. "Shit, Kurt, I know that. And I have nothing against Anna. I'm just jealous. She has the hots for you, and you're allowed to spend time together. Can we go downstairs tonight? I want you badly."

He considered. This was no time to get caught out after hours. The mission with Anna was his chance to report what he'd learned to Grosvenor Square. Or- If he was caught with Berta tonight, with the mission so close, what would they do to him? He had an assignment, and there seemed to be no one else they could send. He'd simply say it had been his last chance to go to bed with Berta. Besides, there was that old saw about Hell having no fury like a woman scorned.

"And I want you," he told her. "Who knows if I will have another chance. The usual time?"

Berta nodded, her excitement not primarily sexual. What is that about? he wondered.

He found out. After having sex, they talked, as usual. She thought perhaps he was getting ready to run away, escape to Switzerland, and wanted to go with him. That wasn't it, he told her. He'd gone with Kurgosz through a sort of gate on the Witches' Ridge, "a hole in space," realizing how preposterous it must sound, even given the outlandish appearance of the Voitar. And on the other side, he added, they'd trained him to do a special job.

To his surprise, she merely raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Hmm. And who was it there," she asked, "who gave you more ass than you could handle?"

"Kurqosz assigned a slave to keep me company, and to tell me things."

"A slave? She must have been something, if you couldn't bring yourself to say `no more.'"

"She was not an ordinary slave. She was Kurqosz's daughter."

"Kurqosz's daughter? A slave?"

"She's a half-blood, like Tsulgax. She's a slave, but has slaves of her own. In a way I was one of them."

Berta laughed. "I wish you were my slave! I'd wear you down to a Vogelscheuche!" She leaned against him then, kissed his lips, his shoulders, his chest, her right hand fondling him until he was ready.

When they were done, they went back upstairs, both of them quiet.

30

Surprise in Albion

The next morning he was told to pack, that they'd leave at 1000 hours. Packing took only a few minutes, then both he and Anna were called to Landgraf's office for a final briefing. Afterward they were driven to the military transportation office at the railyard in Kempten, where they were met by an SS 1st lieutenant. His orders identified them as an intelligence team enroute to England; he was to accompany them, get them to the submarine base at Saint-Nazaire through any difficulties that might arise. In these times one could expect difficulties.

Theirs was an army train, mostly freight cars, but with a flak car, three troopcars, and a sleeper car for officers. Macurdy, Anna, and the lieutenant were assigned to the sleeper, along with the several officers of coast artillery replacements.

In peacetime the 650-mile trip would have taken a day. It took them nearly four, partly because other, strategically more urgent trains were given the right of way, leaving them on sidings for as long as an hour at a time. Mostly, however, the problem was bomb damage. The bridge at Breisach had been knocked out the night before, so they'd detoured south, and crossed the Rhine on the newly repaired bridge at Mullheim. At numerous locations, railyards had been heavily bombed, and damage, debris, and ongoing repairwork seriously reduced the rate at which traffic could be moved through, causing long delays. In other places, temporary bypasses and hasty repairs meant reduced speeds.