Post by Lorpius Prime on Mar 11, 2007 0:44:40 GMT -5
They all pitched in to pay Doctor Müller. Which meant Jay paid Doctor Müller. He was the only one with marks. Mary had no money at all, and Jack’s wallet was filled with zlotys, he hadn’t planned on stopping in Germany.
They said goodbye to the Glunzes. Mary gave Heinrich a hug and a peck on the cheek which elicited a long stream of German to which they both laughed heartily. She seemed much happier to hobble around on the crutches they’d fashioned than to be carried by Jack.
Thomas looked like he wanted to go back, too, but it was crowded enough in the carriage with just the three of them and the doctor. Heinrich told him to wait until the wedding and Thomas proceeded to endure the laughter of his brother, father, Mr. Brauer, and Captain Diener. Jay felt sorry for the boy.
Diener left behind the stone-faced lieutenant to stand watch for any more survivors and the returning searchers; then he mounted his own horse to ride alongside the brewer’s carriage.
Jack and Brauer helped Mary into her seat while Jay fumbled with her crutches. He handed them to Doctor Müller and then wrestled his suitcase under his seat. All in all, he was feeling rather more like a pack animal than a correspondent today.
They waved a final time to the kind barley farmers as the brewer tugged on the reins of his two-horse team.
They rode in silence for a few minutes. But as the farmhouse was passing out of sight over a hilltop, their driver started singing. The tune made Jay guess it was some kind of drinking song, and from the way Doctor Müller rolled his eyes and Mary giggled into her hand, it was a bawdy one. Jay tried to remember if Brauer had ever returned his beer stein.
After a few minutes later, it seemed Jack picked up on the tune himself. His face lit up and—to the surprise and horror of all—he opened the carriage door and swung himself up to the driver’s bench.
Jay couldn’t understand their conversation over the clattering of the horses and carriage wheels. But although Brauer’s English was even worse than Heinrich’s, he seemed to pick up on Jack’s meaning quickly. Soon they were singing the same song together, in English.
It was bawdy. And to Jay’s astonishment after a few verses Captain Diener joined in with them. Their journey into Donauwörth was proving more colorful than it had any right to be.
Mary leaned in towards Jay, “He’s a real character, your friend.”
Jay held out his palms, “I just met him yesterday. But he certainly leaves an impression.”
Mary laughed.
“He is mad!” Müller put in. “He is not right in his head,” he pointed to his temple. “Mad. Not in order.”
“Barking bloody mad…” Jay muttered. Mary laughed harder. The Doctor looked confused.
The drinking song carried on into the evening.
The message which Martin Bozeman Holland received that evening did not please him. Not at all.
He set his briefcase back down on his desk forcefully and began undoing the latches. It seemed he would not be taking an early evening after all. Quite the contrary, Martin could see a long night of work stretching before him.
Spinning a pen around the fingers of his right hand, he drew a piece of stationery from a desk drawer. Emblazoned on the top of the stiff, high-quality paper were a crown and a griffin. The only noise in the office for a few minutes was a faint scratching as Martin wrote.
“Regnum defende indeed,” he muttered.
The telegram would not be long.
Jay hadn’t realized how much he wanted a shower until he had one. For a long time, he just stood under the water, unable to even move. It didn’t even matter that it was ice-cold, he’d had a long day.
His clothes were filthy; there was mud all over his pants and something sticky on his jacket that he’d been unable to identify. He hoped he’d been able to find someone willing to launder them in the morning. Writing them off for lost would be painful, he liked the jacket especially.
He shut off the water and dried himself with one of the thin military towels they’d been given. The barracks was no luxury inn, but it was functional and clean. And not even luxury airliners had showers.
Captain Diener had been gracious enough to give them officers’ quarters. Jay was not thrilled with the idea of sleeping in a bunk in a dormitory full of enlisted soldiers.
He padded into the room he and Jack were sharing. Mary was staying with the Brauers, old Ernst had insisted. Jack was standing by the room’s sole tiny window, contemplating the night with a grave expression. Jay flopped face-first onto the bed he’d claimed and tried his best to pass out.
“We need to talk,” the Australian’s voice was muffled and cold.
“It’s pronounced ‘sleep’, Jack. We need to sleep. Or I do; you can do whatever you want.”
“We may be in danger.”
Jay realized that Jack may not have heard him the last time; he had been speaking into his pillow. He rolled over, “What I am, Mr. Duggan, is exhausted. I know leaping out of flaming airships and hiking through strange forests may just be a typical Sunday for you, but I’m afraid it’s just a little out of my own routine.”
“Someone shot down the Rover.”
Jay groaned, “Right, we were attacked, I forgot. What, do you think these blokes blew us out of the sky?”
“Captain Diener is the commanding officer for this region, and that includes artillery.”
“Good God, man. I’ll grant you he’s a creep, but if he wanted to kill us we’d be dead, not sleeping on beds you’re too suspicious to enjoy.”
“People die making assumptions like that.”
Jay rolled his eyes, “I’m going to sleep. Tell me if assassins start climbing through our window. Or better yet, don’t. Just shoot them and wake me in the morning.”
And without waiting for a response, he pulled the sheets over his head and went to sleep.
Jay woke up thinking like a reporter again. The first thing he did was dive for his suitcase to retrieve a notepad and pen so he could begin writing down everything he could remember from the day before.
The shock must be wearing off. He chewed on the end of his pen, trying to recall exactly the order of events leading up to the airship’s fall.
He looked up, “Oi, Jack, do you remember how…”
Jack was gone.
“Huh.” He set down his notes and slid out of bed. Jack’s own bed was unmade, but there was no sign of the Australian. Even the leather kit he’d slung on his shoulder was gone.
“Maybe the assassins got him,” he said to no one. But the subsequent laugh was a little too forced, and he trailed off quickly.
“Oh hell,” he tried to force his nerves to be calm. He hefted his suitcase up onto the bed and rummaged for some clothes.
He set aside his spare jacket and buttoned up a tan waistcoat, slipping his watch into its pocket. One of his braces came undone when he picked up the jacket and he had to refasten it, making sure the buttons were actually secure this time. His spare jacket was newer; and though it was made of the same gray twill, it didn’t sit quite right on his back and shoulders. He twisted and tugged at it fussily, but only time would tailor it exactly.
Jay pocketed his pad and pen. Then, remembering something, he retrieved his grandfather’s prayer book as well. Something tore a little when he put it inside the coat and Jay cursed under his breath.
He patted his sides and blew out his cheeks and tried to think if he wanted anything else. Thinking of nothing, he closed his suitcase. Then he changed his mind, reopened the suitcase, and took out his spare shoes. These, at least, had been worn more than his jacket, and they fit comfortably when he tied them. When he closed the suitcase again, it shut on his packet of documents. He shoved them back inside and latched the suitcase shut.
Jay wasn’t sure what he was looking for when he opened the door into the hall, but he didn’t find it. There was no sign of Jack. He did see one of the garrison officers exiting another room, a lieutenant, though not one of the ones Jay had seen yesterday. He raised a hand and opened his mouth to ask a question of the other man, then clicked his teeth shut because he didn’t know the language.
The lieutenant cocked his head at Jay, “Frühstück?”
Jay stared at him blankly, hand and forefinger still raised uselessly.
The officer laughed, “Komm mit!" He waved for Jay to follow him.
Jay shrugged, the man seemed friendly enough. They walked out of the dormitory. The lieutenant tried to banter with him in German, but Jay just shook his head pitifully.
They crossed the grassy yard of the little base which sat near the edge of town. The officer led him into a low building. The doors opened onto a cavernous space filled with the noise of nearly a hundred voices. It was a cafeteria, the mess hall; apparently Jay and the lieutenant were getting breakfast.
“Mr. Blake!” a woman’s voice pierced the buzzing. Jay’s head twisted, scanning over the tables.
Near the back of the cafeteria, at a table set apart from the rest, Mary the stewardess—Jay realized he didn’t know her last name—was waving to him. Also at the table were Jack Duggan, Captain Diener, Ernst Brauer, and an older woman Jay hadn’t met.
His guide patted him on the shoulder, said a few more words Jay couldn’t understand, then left for the serving line. Jay sidled over toward his companions from the previous day.
“Glad you could join us, Mr. Blake,” said Captain Diener as Jay sat down. “Mr. Duggan said you seemed quite exhausted, I thought we’d let you rest.”
“Ah, thanks,” he sat down next to Jack, who slid towards Diener to make room for him. “I’m feeling much better now.” Mary, who was seated across from him next to Mr. Brauer, smiled and then returned to wolfing down some kind of roll.
He was introduced to Gerta, Mr. Brauer’s wife. They’d brought Mary to the base to meet again with Diener, who’d taken charge of the survivors as much as anybody.
“I’m afraid I’ll have to dampen your spirit then,” Diener looked around the table seriously. “My men haven’t found anyone else that made it out of your airship. It seems everyone else died in the accident or in the subsequent fire.”
Mary became very quiet, and set the remains of the roll down on her plate slowly. Jack made a low noise in the back of his throat and continued cutting his sausage. Ernst Brauer explained to his wife, and they both tried to look very sympathetic.
“No one?” Jay was feeling more surprised than grim, “There had to be another two dozen people onboard, at least.”
“Thirty-four,” Mary said, looking straight down, “counting us.”
The table was silent for a moment. Jay’s stomach growled at the sight of the food around him, and he looked longingly at the serving line.
“Um, well… I suppose I’ll fetch some breakfast then.” Everyone looked over at him, the captain smiled. “Yes, well…” He coughed and shuffled off uncomfortably.
When he returned with rather more food than he would probably be able to eat, the conversation hadn’t picked up. Diener was droning on about the duties of his company. No one but Mr. Brauer seemed to be listening. Jay was happy to have his breakfast to look at.
He was just starting to fill up when a corporal walked up to their table in a hurry.
“Hauptmann Diener!” he barked, and his body jerked in a mechanical salute.
The captain twisted around casually, “Ja?”
The young soldier leaned over and muttered into his commander’s ear.
Diener turned back around to look at both Jay and Jack, then frowned.
“Hat er gesagt, welches von diesen?” he asked.
The corporal looked a little confused, and shook his head.
Diener sighed and waved him off; the soldier gave another salute and walked back towards the doors. The captain turned back to address them.
“Excuse me, gentlemen, but I’ve just received a message that someone would like to meet you.”
“Oh, have you?” That was Jack; Jay was still racing to swallow a rather large bite of potatoes he’d just taken.
“Indeed I have. Although I do hate to cut your visit short, it seems there’s a carriage waiting for you.”
“And who is it wants to see us so bad he’s yanking your chain to do it?” Jack grunted.
Diener smiled politely, not rising to the challenge, “An agent of your government, actually. One Mr. Farragut; he’s a consular officer stationed in Augsburg and it seems he’s quite keen to meet with you.”
“Wait, just us?” Jay had succeeded in gulping down his food. “He doesn’t also want to see…” he gestured towards Mary with his fork.
“Well actually he merely asked to meet my ‘unfortunate guest, the man from Great Britain’. But as he neglected to specify which of you he meant by that, it seems you’ll both be paying Mr. Farragut a visit.”
“And what is it this Farragut does?” Jack had finished with his meal and was sneering at the captain.
The look Diener gave him was profoundly dark, “I’m afraid I don’t rightly know for sure. Mr. Farragut has found the time to drop by Donauwörth only once during my tenure here, and couldn’t be bothered to discuss the details of his business with me then. Perhaps it is his job to assist troubled travelers such as yourselves.”
Jack snorted, but Diener didn’t flinch. “There is a carriage waiting for you outside. Corporal Gerber will take you to Mr. Farragut’s manor.”
“Now?” Jay’s plate was still one third full.
But everyone else was more or less finished, and Jay reluctantly joined the others in standing to say their farewells.
“Oh, Mr. Blake,” Mary gestured to him and dug in the pouch at the front of her skirt. She pulled out a worn brown flat cap and shook it out before handing it to Jay. “Sara gave it to me. It’s Thomas’s, but she says he never wears it anymore. We thought you could use it until you get a replacement for your own hat.”
“Er, thanks.” He set it on his head and pulled the small bill down on his forehead. It would mess up his hair and made him look more like someone who delivered newspapers than wrote for one, but at least he wouldn’t be walking around bare-headed.
Gerta Brauer said something to her husband, who laughed. Mary put a hand over her mouth to disguise a giggle, but didn’t offer to translate. Jay, not sure of what else to do, gave a weak half-smile. Ernst Brauer laughed harder.
Thanks were exchanged all around; though Jay got the impression Jack was trying to crush Diener’s fingers when they shook hands. The captain didn’t say anything, but ushered them towards the door.
“Shouldn’t I bring my suitcase?” Jay made to walk back to the dormitory.
“The room is unoccupied; it will be there when you return.” Captain Diener steered him towards the waiting carriage.
Corporal Gerber snapped into another salute, and helped the two men into their seats before taking his own seat at the reigns.
Jay didn’t like the look on Diener’s face as they were pulled away. He glanced over to Jack, but the Australian was glaring straight ahead.
Book One, Chapter:
-1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8-9-10-11-12-13-14-15-16-17-18-19-20-21-
-22-23-24-25-26-27-28-29-30-31-32-33-34-35-36-37-38-39-40-41-42-
-43-44-45-46-47-48-49-50-51-52-53-54-55-56-57-58-59-60-61-62-
Appendix: -A-B-C-
They said goodbye to the Glunzes. Mary gave Heinrich a hug and a peck on the cheek which elicited a long stream of German to which they both laughed heartily. She seemed much happier to hobble around on the crutches they’d fashioned than to be carried by Jack.
Thomas looked like he wanted to go back, too, but it was crowded enough in the carriage with just the three of them and the doctor. Heinrich told him to wait until the wedding and Thomas proceeded to endure the laughter of his brother, father, Mr. Brauer, and Captain Diener. Jay felt sorry for the boy.
Diener left behind the stone-faced lieutenant to stand watch for any more survivors and the returning searchers; then he mounted his own horse to ride alongside the brewer’s carriage.
Jack and Brauer helped Mary into her seat while Jay fumbled with her crutches. He handed them to Doctor Müller and then wrestled his suitcase under his seat. All in all, he was feeling rather more like a pack animal than a correspondent today.
They waved a final time to the kind barley farmers as the brewer tugged on the reins of his two-horse team.
They rode in silence for a few minutes. But as the farmhouse was passing out of sight over a hilltop, their driver started singing. The tune made Jay guess it was some kind of drinking song, and from the way Doctor Müller rolled his eyes and Mary giggled into her hand, it was a bawdy one. Jay tried to remember if Brauer had ever returned his beer stein.
After a few minutes later, it seemed Jack picked up on the tune himself. His face lit up and—to the surprise and horror of all—he opened the carriage door and swung himself up to the driver’s bench.
Jay couldn’t understand their conversation over the clattering of the horses and carriage wheels. But although Brauer’s English was even worse than Heinrich’s, he seemed to pick up on Jack’s meaning quickly. Soon they were singing the same song together, in English.
It was bawdy. And to Jay’s astonishment after a few verses Captain Diener joined in with them. Their journey into Donauwörth was proving more colorful than it had any right to be.
Mary leaned in towards Jay, “He’s a real character, your friend.”
Jay held out his palms, “I just met him yesterday. But he certainly leaves an impression.”
Mary laughed.
“He is mad!” Müller put in. “He is not right in his head,” he pointed to his temple. “Mad. Not in order.”
“Barking bloody mad…” Jay muttered. Mary laughed harder. The Doctor looked confused.
The drinking song carried on into the evening.
* * *
The message which Martin Bozeman Holland received that evening did not please him. Not at all.
He set his briefcase back down on his desk forcefully and began undoing the latches. It seemed he would not be taking an early evening after all. Quite the contrary, Martin could see a long night of work stretching before him.
Spinning a pen around the fingers of his right hand, he drew a piece of stationery from a desk drawer. Emblazoned on the top of the stiff, high-quality paper were a crown and a griffin. The only noise in the office for a few minutes was a faint scratching as Martin wrote.
“Regnum defende indeed,” he muttered.
The telegram would not be long.
* * *
Jay hadn’t realized how much he wanted a shower until he had one. For a long time, he just stood under the water, unable to even move. It didn’t even matter that it was ice-cold, he’d had a long day.
His clothes were filthy; there was mud all over his pants and something sticky on his jacket that he’d been unable to identify. He hoped he’d been able to find someone willing to launder them in the morning. Writing them off for lost would be painful, he liked the jacket especially.
He shut off the water and dried himself with one of the thin military towels they’d been given. The barracks was no luxury inn, but it was functional and clean. And not even luxury airliners had showers.
Captain Diener had been gracious enough to give them officers’ quarters. Jay was not thrilled with the idea of sleeping in a bunk in a dormitory full of enlisted soldiers.
He padded into the room he and Jack were sharing. Mary was staying with the Brauers, old Ernst had insisted. Jack was standing by the room’s sole tiny window, contemplating the night with a grave expression. Jay flopped face-first onto the bed he’d claimed and tried his best to pass out.
“We need to talk,” the Australian’s voice was muffled and cold.
“It’s pronounced ‘sleep’, Jack. We need to sleep. Or I do; you can do whatever you want.”
“We may be in danger.”
Jay realized that Jack may not have heard him the last time; he had been speaking into his pillow. He rolled over, “What I am, Mr. Duggan, is exhausted. I know leaping out of flaming airships and hiking through strange forests may just be a typical Sunday for you, but I’m afraid it’s just a little out of my own routine.”
“Someone shot down the Rover.”
Jay groaned, “Right, we were attacked, I forgot. What, do you think these blokes blew us out of the sky?”
“Captain Diener is the commanding officer for this region, and that includes artillery.”
“Good God, man. I’ll grant you he’s a creep, but if he wanted to kill us we’d be dead, not sleeping on beds you’re too suspicious to enjoy.”
“People die making assumptions like that.”
Jay rolled his eyes, “I’m going to sleep. Tell me if assassins start climbing through our window. Or better yet, don’t. Just shoot them and wake me in the morning.”
And without waiting for a response, he pulled the sheets over his head and went to sleep.
* * *
Jay woke up thinking like a reporter again. The first thing he did was dive for his suitcase to retrieve a notepad and pen so he could begin writing down everything he could remember from the day before.
The shock must be wearing off. He chewed on the end of his pen, trying to recall exactly the order of events leading up to the airship’s fall.
He looked up, “Oi, Jack, do you remember how…”
Jack was gone.
“Huh.” He set down his notes and slid out of bed. Jack’s own bed was unmade, but there was no sign of the Australian. Even the leather kit he’d slung on his shoulder was gone.
“Maybe the assassins got him,” he said to no one. But the subsequent laugh was a little too forced, and he trailed off quickly.
“Oh hell,” he tried to force his nerves to be calm. He hefted his suitcase up onto the bed and rummaged for some clothes.
He set aside his spare jacket and buttoned up a tan waistcoat, slipping his watch into its pocket. One of his braces came undone when he picked up the jacket and he had to refasten it, making sure the buttons were actually secure this time. His spare jacket was newer; and though it was made of the same gray twill, it didn’t sit quite right on his back and shoulders. He twisted and tugged at it fussily, but only time would tailor it exactly.
Jay pocketed his pad and pen. Then, remembering something, he retrieved his grandfather’s prayer book as well. Something tore a little when he put it inside the coat and Jay cursed under his breath.
He patted his sides and blew out his cheeks and tried to think if he wanted anything else. Thinking of nothing, he closed his suitcase. Then he changed his mind, reopened the suitcase, and took out his spare shoes. These, at least, had been worn more than his jacket, and they fit comfortably when he tied them. When he closed the suitcase again, it shut on his packet of documents. He shoved them back inside and latched the suitcase shut.
Jay wasn’t sure what he was looking for when he opened the door into the hall, but he didn’t find it. There was no sign of Jack. He did see one of the garrison officers exiting another room, a lieutenant, though not one of the ones Jay had seen yesterday. He raised a hand and opened his mouth to ask a question of the other man, then clicked his teeth shut because he didn’t know the language.
The lieutenant cocked his head at Jay, “Frühstück?”
Jay stared at him blankly, hand and forefinger still raised uselessly.
The officer laughed, “Komm mit!" He waved for Jay to follow him.
Jay shrugged, the man seemed friendly enough. They walked out of the dormitory. The lieutenant tried to banter with him in German, but Jay just shook his head pitifully.
They crossed the grassy yard of the little base which sat near the edge of town. The officer led him into a low building. The doors opened onto a cavernous space filled with the noise of nearly a hundred voices. It was a cafeteria, the mess hall; apparently Jay and the lieutenant were getting breakfast.
“Mr. Blake!” a woman’s voice pierced the buzzing. Jay’s head twisted, scanning over the tables.
Near the back of the cafeteria, at a table set apart from the rest, Mary the stewardess—Jay realized he didn’t know her last name—was waving to him. Also at the table were Jack Duggan, Captain Diener, Ernst Brauer, and an older woman Jay hadn’t met.
His guide patted him on the shoulder, said a few more words Jay couldn’t understand, then left for the serving line. Jay sidled over toward his companions from the previous day.
“Glad you could join us, Mr. Blake,” said Captain Diener as Jay sat down. “Mr. Duggan said you seemed quite exhausted, I thought we’d let you rest.”
“Ah, thanks,” he sat down next to Jack, who slid towards Diener to make room for him. “I’m feeling much better now.” Mary, who was seated across from him next to Mr. Brauer, smiled and then returned to wolfing down some kind of roll.
He was introduced to Gerta, Mr. Brauer’s wife. They’d brought Mary to the base to meet again with Diener, who’d taken charge of the survivors as much as anybody.
“I’m afraid I’ll have to dampen your spirit then,” Diener looked around the table seriously. “My men haven’t found anyone else that made it out of your airship. It seems everyone else died in the accident or in the subsequent fire.”
Mary became very quiet, and set the remains of the roll down on her plate slowly. Jack made a low noise in the back of his throat and continued cutting his sausage. Ernst Brauer explained to his wife, and they both tried to look very sympathetic.
“No one?” Jay was feeling more surprised than grim, “There had to be another two dozen people onboard, at least.”
“Thirty-four,” Mary said, looking straight down, “counting us.”
The table was silent for a moment. Jay’s stomach growled at the sight of the food around him, and he looked longingly at the serving line.
“Um, well… I suppose I’ll fetch some breakfast then.” Everyone looked over at him, the captain smiled. “Yes, well…” He coughed and shuffled off uncomfortably.
When he returned with rather more food than he would probably be able to eat, the conversation hadn’t picked up. Diener was droning on about the duties of his company. No one but Mr. Brauer seemed to be listening. Jay was happy to have his breakfast to look at.
He was just starting to fill up when a corporal walked up to their table in a hurry.
“Hauptmann Diener!” he barked, and his body jerked in a mechanical salute.
The captain twisted around casually, “Ja?”
The young soldier leaned over and muttered into his commander’s ear.
Diener turned back around to look at both Jay and Jack, then frowned.
“Hat er gesagt, welches von diesen?” he asked.
The corporal looked a little confused, and shook his head.
Diener sighed and waved him off; the soldier gave another salute and walked back towards the doors. The captain turned back to address them.
“Excuse me, gentlemen, but I’ve just received a message that someone would like to meet you.”
“Oh, have you?” That was Jack; Jay was still racing to swallow a rather large bite of potatoes he’d just taken.
“Indeed I have. Although I do hate to cut your visit short, it seems there’s a carriage waiting for you.”
“And who is it wants to see us so bad he’s yanking your chain to do it?” Jack grunted.
Diener smiled politely, not rising to the challenge, “An agent of your government, actually. One Mr. Farragut; he’s a consular officer stationed in Augsburg and it seems he’s quite keen to meet with you.”
“Wait, just us?” Jay had succeeded in gulping down his food. “He doesn’t also want to see…” he gestured towards Mary with his fork.
“Well actually he merely asked to meet my ‘unfortunate guest, the man from Great Britain’. But as he neglected to specify which of you he meant by that, it seems you’ll both be paying Mr. Farragut a visit.”
“And what is it this Farragut does?” Jack had finished with his meal and was sneering at the captain.
The look Diener gave him was profoundly dark, “I’m afraid I don’t rightly know for sure. Mr. Farragut has found the time to drop by Donauwörth only once during my tenure here, and couldn’t be bothered to discuss the details of his business with me then. Perhaps it is his job to assist troubled travelers such as yourselves.”
Jack snorted, but Diener didn’t flinch. “There is a carriage waiting for you outside. Corporal Gerber will take you to Mr. Farragut’s manor.”
“Now?” Jay’s plate was still one third full.
But everyone else was more or less finished, and Jay reluctantly joined the others in standing to say their farewells.
“Oh, Mr. Blake,” Mary gestured to him and dug in the pouch at the front of her skirt. She pulled out a worn brown flat cap and shook it out before handing it to Jay. “Sara gave it to me. It’s Thomas’s, but she says he never wears it anymore. We thought you could use it until you get a replacement for your own hat.”
“Er, thanks.” He set it on his head and pulled the small bill down on his forehead. It would mess up his hair and made him look more like someone who delivered newspapers than wrote for one, but at least he wouldn’t be walking around bare-headed.
Gerta Brauer said something to her husband, who laughed. Mary put a hand over her mouth to disguise a giggle, but didn’t offer to translate. Jay, not sure of what else to do, gave a weak half-smile. Ernst Brauer laughed harder.
Thanks were exchanged all around; though Jay got the impression Jack was trying to crush Diener’s fingers when they shook hands. The captain didn’t say anything, but ushered them towards the door.
“Shouldn’t I bring my suitcase?” Jay made to walk back to the dormitory.
“The room is unoccupied; it will be there when you return.” Captain Diener steered him towards the waiting carriage.
Corporal Gerber snapped into another salute, and helped the two men into their seats before taking his own seat at the reigns.
Jay didn’t like the look on Diener’s face as they were pulled away. He glanced over to Jack, but the Australian was glaring straight ahead.
Book One, Chapter:
-1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8-9-10-11-12-13-14-15-16-17-18-19-20-21-
-22-23-24-25-26-27-28-29-30-31-32-33-34-35-36-37-38-39-40-41-42-
-43-44-45-46-47-48-49-50-51-52-53-54-55-56-57-58-59-60-61-62-
Appendix: -A-B-C-