Eva’s face was still frozen on the screen when Johann returned. She was dressed casually, in a loose-fitting white blouse and blue jeans. Johann thought she looked unusually tired. Her eyes were red and swollen.
Eva’s message had been transmitted a couple of hours earlier that morning, at five minutes before ten. “You’re probably wondering where I am,” Eva began, “and why I’m not in the apartment.” The young woman hesitated. “I have not come home,” she continued with difficulty, “because something happened last night, something unexpected, and I thought that I should tell you about it before we saw each other again.”
Eva paused and fidgeted nervously on the couch. “The opening was a huge success, Johann,” she said, forcing a smile. “You would have been proud of me. Everyone was extremely complimentary. Herr Freisinger even stopped by briefly, and virtually all the top city officials made an appearance… Your cousin Ludwig was there with that new actress girlfriend of his. He was disappointed that you hadn’t come.
Eva was distracted temporarily by someone who was out of the picture. Johann heard a woman’s voice. “That’s Gena,” Eva said. “She’s one of the other designers. You met her briefly once last month. I’m over at her apartment and will stay here until you phone.
“Anyway, I was really feeling elated when the official opening ended. Gena and I and Rolf Bachmann, the museum curator, went out dancing with several of the other members of the staff. We all drank too much and had a great time.”
She stopped. Eva looked as if she were making an effort not to cry. “Johann,” she said on the video, “I am very confused by what has happened. I guess I could blame it on the fact that I was drunk and got carried away, but that would be too easy… At the end of the evening, Rolf invited me back to his apartment and I went.
“I don’t know what to do now, Johann,” Eva said slowly. “I thought that if I told you about last night this way, you could have some time to think before we talked… I know that I have hurt you, and I am very sorry for that, but I also know that I love you… Please call and help me understand where we go from here.”
Johann glanced at his watch. It was three-thirty. In half an hour he would meet Eva and Rolf at his favorite café on the Unter den Linden, not far from the museum. Johann had Purposely chosen a public meeting place -to minimize the likelihood of an unpleasant scene. He was also delighted that Rolf was going to join them, for that would give Johann a chance to show the museum curator Helga Weber’s journals.
He was surprised by how easy it had been for him to make the decision to end his affair with Eva. Her dalliance with Rolf, Johann had realized earlier in the afternoon, offered him a perfect opportunity to disengage himself from a relationship that had, in his opinion, become unsatisfying to both of them. Under normal circumstances, Johann mused, it might have taken them several months in a deteriorating situation to acknowledge that they should go their separate ways. Eva’s spending the night with Rolf had, in reality, spared them both a lot of heartache.
Nevertheless, since Johann was by nature very cautious about changing any significant element in his life, he spent the final minutes in his apartment reviewing again the thoughts and feelings that were influencing his decision to terminate his affair with Eva.
Johann sat in the large armchair in the living room and stared briefly at a photograph of Eva and him, laughing and frolicking on the beach in Portugal. In the beginning, he recalled, everything was so easy. We were so compatible, especially in bed. Johann readily admitted that he would miss the sexual aspect of his relationship with Eva. They no longer had sex every day, as they had during the first months of their courtship. But they still made love three or four times a week, as regular as clockwork, primarily because Eva, whose insecurities were not hidden, believed that each sexual contact was a reaffirmation of their commitment to one another.
She has been an agreeable and intelligent companion, Johann told himself, continuing his inventory of Eva’s assets. We have enjoyed many evenings together at the theater, at restaurants, and with friends. We never really had any problems until…
In fact, Johann recognized that the dynamics of his relationship with Eva had altered completely when Eva had started her work at the Third Reich Museum. Her personality had been transformed by the job. Previously, she had done more or less routine graphic-design tasks for mostly commercial applications and had not seemed particularly involved in her work. The high-profile position at the museum, however, had given Eva a taste of the limelight and rekindled her ambitions.
At first Eva had often brought her work home from the museum and shared what she was doing with Johann. For a while this mutual activity seemed to strengthen their relationship. But as Johann himself had become more knowledgeable about Eva’s project, and had started expressing opinions of his own, their egos had begun to clash.
Johann still remembered clearly his astonishment and irritation with Eva the night he discovered, after a long discussion over dinner, that she was concerned only with the aesthetic concepts embodied in her exhibits, and was completely disengaged from the subject matter contained in the displays. She viewed the design of an exhibit depicting the death camps at Auschwitz, Treblinka, and Sobibor, for example, as an exercise in arrangement and lighting, without any overriding design principles based on the immorality of what was being displayed. The night had ended with Johann giving Eva a self-righteous lecture that had infuriated her. Subsequently, bitter arguments had erupted whenever Eva thought Johann was criticizing her work.
These disagreements had quickly spilled over into other parts of their life together, poisoning the rapport they once had shared. Eva became more openly critical of Johann, not just for what she called his “blind devotion and subservience” where his parents were concerned, but also for his insensitivity to many of the things that were important to her. Johann was often defensive and lashed out at the insecure Eva with emotionally damaging criticisms of his own.
In his final deliberation, Johann did not ask himself if he loved Eva. He knew that he did not. Maybe once or twice, in the early days of their affair, during a moment of sexual passion, Johann had felt something that he might have called love. But that had been a long time ago, and those feelings had long since been forgotten.
Johann continued to sit in the chair in his living room as he completed his review. No, he told himself at length, there is no aspect of this situation that I have overlooked. I have made the correct decision.
Realizing that he still had another ten minutes before his meeting with Eva and Rolf, Johann suddenly decided to examine more thoroughly the pocket in his waist pouch from which the peculiar white spheres had vanished that morning. This time he cut the entire pouch apart with some scissors and placed the exposed pocket directly under the light. To Johann’s delight, in three or four places, down at the very bottom of the pocket, there were faint yet clearly identifiable tiny round imprints remaining on the material. Although the imprints did not explain in any way the mysterious disappearance of the spheres, they were a tangible proof that the unusual objects had indeed once been in the pocket.
Johann was so excited by the imprints that he started to leave the apartment without the Helga Weber journals that he intended to show Rolf Bachmann. At least something good may come out of this meeting, Johann told himself, tucking the journals inside his coat to protect them from the damp weather.
Uncle Hermann was already sitting at a table when Johann arrived at the restaurant in the Schweizerhof Hotel a little after six. The older man stood up when he saw his nephew and greeted him warmly with both a hearty handshake and a pat on the back. “Mein Gott,” Uncle Hermann said with a smile, “you are even bigger than I imagined. How tall are you?”
“I’m two meters eleven,” Johann replied, slightly embarrassed.
“Sit down, sit down please,” Uncle Hermann said. “Goodness, it’s been a long time… Seventeen years I think.”
“At least,” Johann said. “I was barely twelv
e when we visited you in Rothenburg, just before Christmas.”
There was a short silence as the two men stared across the table at each other. “I’ll explain everything, Johann,” Uncle Hermann said, taking a sip of his wine. “But first, would you like some of this superb Poligny-Montrachet? I bought it to celebrate our reunion.”
Johann nodded and his uncle poured the white wine into his glass. “Of course I want to know all about your job, and Eva, and everything else in your life, but first I have a couple of topics of my own to discuss… Do you mind if we begin, right away, with the reasons I called you?”
“Not at all,” Johann replied.
Uncle Hermann hesitated for a moment. “First, Johann,” he then said, “I’m deeply troubled about your parents, as I’m certain you are as well. Their financial position is terribly precarious. Although your mother has never mentioned anything to me about their plight, I have done some investigating on my own and have discovered that they’re in a woeful predicament. They may even lose the house if they don’t pay the delinquent real-estate taxes in the next few weeks.”
Uncle Hermann took another drink of his wine. From Johann’s expression Uncle Hermann could tell that he had not told his nephew anything new or surprising. “I have also discovered,” his uncle continued, “that you have been helping them substantially, for over a year now, and that without your assistance they could not possibly even have fed themselves.” He shook his head. “I am appalled that my sister has never asked for my help, but I must admit that I am both impressed and deeply gratified that you have been so generous. It is very much to your credit.”
“I have done what I could,” Johann said quietly. “I only wish I could have done more.”
“You are an admirable young man,” Uncle Hermann said. “That’s why it gives me great pleasure to inform you that you will never again need to provide any financial help to your parents.”
Johann returned his wineglass to the table. “I don’t understand,” he said, his brow furrowed.
“Life has been very good to me,” Uncle Hermann explained. “I was lucky enough to anticipate this depression, and my assets have remained intact. It is of no consequence to me to assist your parents. Accordingly, I have, in the last three days, paid their delinquent taxes and deposited enough money in my sister’s bank account that they can live, albeit frugally, for the next year or two.”
Johann could not believe what he was hearing. As he began to comprehend fully what his uncle Hermann was telling him, Johann felt as if an enormous weight was being lifted off his shoulders. “I don’t know how to thank you,” he eventually stammered. “For them, for me, for all of us.”
“I assure you. Johann,” Uncle Hermann said, leaning across the table, “that the amount of money we are discussing is not that important to me. It’s the least I can do for my family.”
Johann’s shock did not quickly diminish. He sat quietly, sipping his wine, although he wanted to stand up and shout with joy and relief.
“Did either of your parents,” his uncle was saying, “ever tell you why you never saw me again after our Christmas visit in Rothenburg seventeen years ago?”
“No,” Johann said, shaking his head. “My father mentioned something about a quarrel, but he didn’t give any specifics.”
“So you don’t know that I am a homosexual?”
Johann didn’t know what to say. “No, Uncle Hermann,” he said at length. “Nobody ever told me.”
“That’s what the quarrel was about,” Uncle Hermann said. “The last night of your family’s visit, after you were asleep, I ‘came out,’ as we say. I even introduced them to my boyfriend at the time. Your father was enraged and told me that I would never be welcome in your house again.”
After Uncle Hermann apologized for disappearing from his nephew’s life and Johann said, somewhat awkwardly, that his uncle’s being a homosexual was not important as far as Johann was concerned, the focus of the conversation shifted to the younger man. For some reason, the usually taciturn Johann was eager to talk. As the meal progressed he told Uncle Hermann about his work, about the conclusion of his affair with Eva, even about Bakir and his confusing feelings of guilt. Uncle Hermann seemed interested in every aspect of Johann’s life.
“I went to that museum opening last night,” Uncle Hermann said in response to a comment Johann had made about Eva’s work. “It was a scary event. I agree with what Le Monde said this morning, that the representation of Hitler and the other Third Reich leaders, particularly in that special exhibit entitled Hitler und die Juden, was devoid of moral comment, and therefore permitted the viewer to draw his or her own conclusions about what occurred… Your cousin Ludwig, incidentally, reminds me of a Nazi SS officer from one of those early American films.”
They talked and talked. During the main course Johann told Uncle Hermann about finding Helga Weber’s journals in the family attic, and the excitement he had seen in Rolf Bachmann’s face when the museum curator had quickly scanned the text. Johann also admitted that he felt strangely embarrassed that one of his ancestors had been such a Nazi fanatic.
“The museum will pay plenty for that kind of material,” Uncle Hermann said. “But don’t sell the journals to them too quickly. If the material is as powerful as you have suggested, I have some associates in the United States who would probably also want to buy them.”
“But if the money is no longer needed,” Johann asked, “why should I sell the journals at all?”
“They’re too important to remain private,” Uncle Hermann replied. “They can serve as a poignant historical reminder, if nothing else… Besides, we can put the money into an account for your parents to use in the years ahead.”
It was almost eight o’clock by the time the dessert was served. Johann and Uncle Hermann had finished the second bottle of wine. Johann was feeling pleasantly relaxed. He could not remember when he had enjoyed an evening so much.
Over dessert Johann told his uncle about his extraordinary encounter that morning with the double helix of sparkling particles. He first brought the subject into the conversation tentatively, to see whether or not his uncle was going to scoff or perhaps even belittle him. Encouraged by Uncle Hermann’s initial response, however, Johann told the entire story, including all of the details.
Uncle Hermann was fascinated by the story. “And these imprints,” he asked, “are they clearly visible? Could someone else see them?”
“Absolutely,” Johann replied. “If you’d like, I could run back to my apartment now to get the pouch. I could be back in less than half an hour.”
“That won’t be necessary, Johann,” Uncle Hermann said with a laugh. “I believe you.” He took a bite of his strudel. “Johann,” he then said, “have you ever heard of the Rama Society?”
“Yes, I think so,” Johann said. “At least the name sounds vaguely familiar… What do they do?”
“They are a group who catalog and study unexplained phenomena that might be related to nonhuman intelligence. They were formed ten years ago, right after the visit to our solar system by that cylindrical spaceship of unknown origin. Anyway, one of my closest friends is the director of the Rama Society. His name is Carlos Sauceda. I’m going to have him give you a call.”
“So you think my double helix,” Johann said excitedly, “may have come from somewhere in space?”
“I wouldn’t go that far,” Uncle Hermann said. “But Carlos has told me about some unexplained incidents that are remarkably similar. They have occurred all over the world. And not just in the last ten years either. I’m certain Carlos would be delighted to give you more of the details, and I suspect he will be anxious to study those imprints.”
After the dessert, Uncle Hermann ordered two glasses of cognac. “Thank you very much for everything,” Johann said earnestly as he sipped his cognac. “For helping my parents, for coming back into my life, and for this dinner. It has been a wonderful evening.”
“It’s not over yet,” Uncle Hermann said
with an unusually serious look on his face. “I have one more topic to discuss with you… Do you by any chance remember the summer of 2122?”
Johann tried to clear his head and focus on his uncle’s question. “Of course,” he said at length. “That was the summer you took Mother and me to Pans.”
“I will never forget your excitement in the Air and Space Museum,” Uncle Hermann said. “You were certain that you were going to live on the moon or Mars someday.”
Both men were silent as Johann returned to his childhood and remembered his daydreams of space travel and the hours he had spent looking at the atlases of all the planets and their moons. His mother had kept that spacesuit Uncle Hermann had given him for his twelfth birthday until after he had graduated from college. Somehow it all seemed so far away…
“I realize that I may be intruding upon your life,” his uncle said, breaking Johann’s alcohol-induced reverie, “but something happened just two days ago that reminded me of the young boy I knew that summer in Paris. One of my associates who works for the International Space Agency was complaining to me that he has been unable to find a properly qualified person to manage the largest water-distribution facility on Mars. The job seems a perfect match for your talents. I don’t know if you still have any interest in that kind of thing, but…”
Johann’s mind was swimming. He could barely concentrate on what his uncle was saying. He heard the words “Valhalla, excellent pay and benefits, two-year minimum term,” but he had no concept of what they really meant. When Uncle Hermann handed him the business card with the red ISA logo stamped across the top, Johann did not have the slightest idea that two days later he would have an interview that would irrevocably change his life.
Johann stumbled home to his empty apartment that night in a pleasant frame of mind. For the moment the good wine and the warm conversation with his uncle had restored his basic optimism. In fact, for the first time in months, Johann was actually looking forward to the future with eager anticipation.
Rama: The Omnibus Page 189
