'There have been rumours, there are always rumours. If you remember, one of the Czar's daughters in Russia was said to have escaped the general massacre of her family.'
'But that was -' George Packham stopped. 'False - quite false.'
'It was proved false by one set of people. It was accepted by another set of people, both of whom had known her. That Anastasia was indeed Anastasia, or that Anastasia, Grand Duchess of Russia, was really only a peasant girl. Which story was true? Rumours! The longer they go on, the less people believe them, except for those who have romantic minds, who go on believing them. It has often been rumoured that Hitler was alive, not dead. There is no one who has ever said with certainty that they have examined his dead body. The Russians declared so. They brought no proofs, though.'
'Do you really mean to say - Dr Reinhardt, do you support this extraordinary story?'
'Ach,' said Dr Reinhardt. 'You ask me, but I have told you my part. It was certainly Martin B. who came to my sanatorium. It was Martin B. who brought with him the Führer. It was Martin B. who treated him as the Führer, who spoke to him with the deference with which one speaks to the Führer. As for me, I lived already with some hundreds of Führers, of Napoleons, of Julius Caesars. You must understand that the Hitlers who lived in my sanatorium, they looked alike, they could have been, nearly all of them could have been, Adolf Hitler. They themselves could never have believed in themselves with the passion, the vehemence with which they knew that they were Hitler, unless they had had a basic resemblance, with make-up, clothing, continuing acting, and playing of the part. I had had no personal meeting with Herr Adolf Hitler at any previous time. One saw pictures of him in the papers, one knew roughly what our great genius looked like, but one knew only the pictures that he wished shown. So he came, he was the Führer, Martin B. the man best to be believed on that subject said he was the Führer. No, I had no doubts. I obeyed orders. Herr Hitler wished to go alone into a room to meet a selection of his - what shall one say? - his plaster copies. He went in. He came out. An exchange of clothing could have been made, not very different clothing in any case. Was it he himself or one of the self-appointed Hitlers who came out? Rushed out quickly by Martin B. and driven away while the real man could have stayed behind, could have enjoyed playing his part, could have known that in this way and in this way only could he manage to escape from the country which at any moment might surrender. He was already disturbed in mind, mentally affected by rage and anger that the orders he gave, the wild fantastic messages sent to his staff, what they were to do, what they were to say, the impossible things they were to attempt, were not, as of old, immediately obeyed. He could feel already that he was no longer in supreme command. But he had a small faithful two or three and they had a plan for him, to get him out of this country, out of Europe, to a place where he could rally round him in a different continent his Nazi followers, the young ones who believed so passionately in him. The swastika would rise again there. He played his part. No doubt, he enjoyed it. Yes, that would be in keeping with a man whose reason was already tottering. He would show these others that he could play the part of Adolf Hitler better than they did. He laughed to himself occasionally, and my doctors, my nurses, they would look in, they would see some slight change. One patient who seemed unusually mentally disturbed, perhaps. Pah, there was nothing in that. It was always happening. With the Napoleons, with the Julius Caesars, with all of them. Some days, as one would say if one was a layman, they are madder than usual. That is the only way I can put it. So now it is for Herr Spiess to speak.'
'Fantastic!' said the Home Secretary.
'Yes, fantastic,' said Herr Spiess patiently, 'but fantastic things can happen, you know. In history, in real life, no matter how fantastic.'
'And nobody suspected, nobody knew?'
'It was very well planned. It was well planned, well thought out. The escape route was ready, the exact details of it are not clearly known, but one can make a pretty good recapitulation of them. Some of the people who were concerned, who passed a certain personage on from place to place under different disguises, under different names, some of those people, on our looking back and making their inquiries, we find did not live as long as they might have done.'
'You mean in case they should give the secret away or should talk too much?'
'The SS saw to that. Rich rewards, praise, promises high positions in the future and then - death is a much easier answer. And the SS were used to death. They knew the different ways of it, they knew means of disposing of bodies - Oh yes, I will tell you that, this has been inquired into for some time now. The knowledge has come little by little to us, and we have made inquiries, documents have been acquired and the truth has come out. Adolf Hitler certainly reached South America. It is said that a marriage ceremony was performed - that a child was born. The child was branded in the foot with the mark of the swastika. Branded as a baby. I have seen trusted agents whom I can believe. They have seen that branded foot in South America. There that child was brought up, carefully prepared - prepared as the Dalai Lama must have been prepared for his great destiny. Because that was the idea pf thes fanatics. An idea greater than what they had begun. It wasn't only the rebirth of the new Nazis, the new German Super-race. It started like this, but there were many other things going on. It was young people from almost every country in Europe, together, together in the ranks of anarchy, to destroy the old world, the materialistic world, gathering in an orchestration of violence and death their murdering, violent brothers. Bent first on destruction and then on rising to power. And they had now their leader. A leader with the right blood in his veins and a leader who, though he grew up with no great likeness to his dead father, was - no, is a golden-haired fair Nordic boy, taking presumably after the looks of his mother. A golden boy. A boy whom the whole world could accept. The Germans and the Austrians first because it was the great article of their faith, of their music, the Young Siegfried. So he grew up as the Young Siegfried who would command them all, who would lead into the promised land. Not the promised land of the Jews, whom they despised, where Moses led his followers. The Jews were dead under the ground, killed or murdered in the gas chambers. This was to be a land of their own, a land gained by their own prowess. The countries of Europe were to be banded together with the countries of South America. There already they had their spearhead, their anarchists, their prophets, their Guevaras, the Castros, the Guerillas, their followers, a long arduous training in cruelty and torture and violence and death, and after it, glorious life. Freedon. As rulers of the New World State. The appointed conquerors.'
'Absurd nonsense,' said Mr Lazenby. 'Once all this is put a stop to, the whole thing will collapse. This is all quite ridiculous. What can they do?' Cedric Lazenby sounded merely querulous.
Herr Spiess shook his heavy, wise head.
'You may ask. I tell you the answer, which is - they do not know. They don't know where they're going. They don't know what is going to be done with them.'
'You mean they're not the real leaders?'
'They are the young marching heroes, treading their path to glory, on steppingstones of violence, of pain, of hatred. They have now their following not only in South America and Europe. The cult has travelled north. In the United States, there too the young men riot, they march, they follow the banner of the Young Siegfried. They are taught his ways, they are taught to kill, to enjoy pain, they are taught the rules of the Death's Head, the rules of Himmler. They are being trained, you see. They are being secretly indoctrinated. They do not know what they're being trained for. But we do, some of us at least. And you? In this country?'
'Four or five of us, perhaps,' said Colonel Pikeaway.
'In Russia they know, in America they have begun to know. They know that there are the followers of the Young Hero, Siegfried, based on the Norse legends, and that a young Siegfried is the leader. That that is their new religion. The religion of the glorious boy, the golden triumph of youth. In him the old Nordic gods have risen again.'
'But that, of course,' said Herr Spiess, dropping his voice to a commonplace tone, 'that, of course, is not the simple prosaic truth. There are some powerful personalities behind this. Evil men with first-class brains. A first-class financier, a great industrialist, someone who controls mines, oil, stores of uranium, who owns scientists of the top class, and those are the ones, a committee of men, who themselves do not look particularly interesting or extraordinary, but nevertheless have got control. They control the sources of power, and control through certain means of their own the young men who kill and the young men who are slaves. By control of drugs they acquire slaves. Slaves in every country who little by little progress from soft drugs to hard drugs and who are then completely subservient, completely dependent on men whom they do not even know but who secretly own them body and soul. Their craving need for a particular drug makes them slaves, and in due course, these slaves prove to be no good, because of their dependence on drugs, they will only be capable of sitting in apathy dreaming sweet dreams, and so they will be left to die, or even helped to die. They will not inherit that kingdom in which they believe. Strange religions are being deliberately introduced to them. The gods of the old days disguised.'
'And permissive sex also plays its part, I suppose?'
'Sex can destroy itself. In old Roman times the men who steeped themselves in vice, who were oversexed, who ran sex to death until they were bored and weary of sex, sometimes fled from it and went out into the desert and became Anchorites like St Simeon Stylites. Sex will exhaust itself. It does its work for the time being, but it cannot rule you as drugs rule you. Drugs and sadism and the love of power and hatred. A desire for pain for its own sake. The pleasures of inflicting it. They are teaching themselves the pleasures of evil. Once the pleasures of evil get a hold on you, you cannot draw back.'
'My dear Chancellor - I really can't believe you - I mean, well - I mean if there are these tendencies, they must be put down by adopting strong measures. I mean, really, one - one can't go on pandering to this sort of thing. One must take a firm stand - a firm stand.'
'Shut up, George.' Mr Lazenby pulled out his pipe, looked at it, put it back in his pocket again. 'The best plan, I think,' he said, his idée fixe reasserting itself, 'would be for me to fly to Russia. I understand that - well, that these facts are known to the Russians.'
'They know sufficient,' said Herr Spiess. 'How much they will admit they know -' he shrugged his shoulders - 'that is difficult to say. It is never easy to get the Russians to come out in the open. They have their own troubles on the Chinese border. They believe perhaps less in the far advanced stage, into which the movement has got, than we do.'
'I should make mine a special mission, I should.'
'I should stay here if I were you, Cedric.'
Lord Altamount's quiet voice spoke from where he leaned rather wearily back in his chair. 'We need you here, Cedric,' he said. There was gentle authority in his voice. 'You are the head of our Government - you must remain here. We have trained agents - our own emissaries who are qualified for foreign missions.'
'Agents?' Sir George Packham dubiously demanded. 'What can agents do at this stage? We must have a report from - Ah, Horsham, there you are - I did not notice you before. Tell us - what agents have we got? And what can they possibly do?'
'We've got some very good agents,' said Henry Horsham quietly. 'Agents bring you information. Herr Spiess also has brought you information. Information which his agents have obtained for him. The trouble is - always has been - (you've only got to read about the last war) nobody wishes to believe the news the agents bring.'
'Surely - Intelligence -'
'Nobody wants to accept that the agents are intelligent, but they are, you know. They are highly trained and their reports, nine times out of ten, are true. What happens then? The High-Ups refuse to believe it, don't want to believe it, go further and refuse to act upon it in any way.'
'Really, my dear Horsham - I can't -'
Horsham turned to the German.
'Even in your country, sir, didn't that happen? True reports were brought in, but they weren't always acted upon. People don't want to know - if truth is unpalatable.'
'I have to agree - that can and does happen - not often, of that I assure you - But yes - sometimes -'
Mr Lazenby was fidgeting again with his pipe.
'Let us not argue about information. It is a question of dealing - of acting upon the information we have got. This is not merely a national crisis - it is an international crisis. Decisions must be taken at top level - we must act. Munro, the police must be reinforced by the Army - military measures must be set in motion. Herr Spiess, you have always been a great military nation - rebellions must be put down by armed forces before they get out of hand. You would agree with that policy, I am sure -'
'The policy, yes. But these insurrections are already what you term "out of hand". They have tools, rifles, machine-guns, explosives, grenades, bombs, chemical and other gases -'
'But with our nuclear weapons - a mere threat of nuclear warfare - and -'
'These are not just disaffected schoolboys. With this Army of Youth there are scientists - young biologists, chemists, physicists. To start - or to engage in nuclear warfare in Europe -' Herr Spiess shook his head. 'Already we have had an attempt to poison the water supply at Cologne - Typhoid.'
'The whole position is incredible -' Cedric Lazenby looked round him hopefully - 'Chetwynd - Munro - Blunt?'
Admiral Blunt was, somewhat to Lazenby's surprise, the only one to respond.
'I don't know where the Admiralty comes in - not quite our pigeon. I'd advise you, Cedric, if you want to do the best thing for yourself, to take your pipe and a big supply of tobacco, and get as far out of range of any nuclear warfare you are thinking of starting as you can. Go and camp in the Antarctic, or somewhere where radio-activity will take a long time catching up with you. Professor Eckstein warned us, you know, and he knows what he's talking about.'
