Margit was the first person into the field. Mia and Dieter were next. Finally, Largo pulled his pistol and ran after them. To his amazement, they all made it across alive. He leaned against a wall, panting, more out of nervousness than anything else.
“We’re going for the munitions. Be fast or you’ll get left behind,” said Margit. She handed Largo two of the yellow cakes of amatol. “If you get a chance, leave these in the labs.”
“Gladly,” said Largo.
“They have timers set for one minute. Just push the button and get out of there.”
“Good luck.”
“You too,” said Margit.
Largo ran alone to building 1.
His shoulder and leg ached. He wished he had some morphia, as much for his nerves as the pain.
The interior of building 1 was surprisingly ordinary. It looked like a dozen different bland medical offices where he’d delivered parcels—how long ago was it? It felt like years. Most of the lights were off in the lobby. There was a reception desk, but no one was there. Largo went straight to the lift, which opened right away. He pushed the button for the second floor and held his pistol at chest level in case there were any guards.
But there weren’t. The whole building was dimly lit and nearly silent. There was a sign across from the lift. It said BIOLOGIE EINSATZGRUPPE. The second floor was laid out in a straight line running to the left and right of the lift. Largo went to the right and opened each door he came to. There were offices with desks and Trefles, small examination rooms, and closets full of medical supplies, but nothing that looked like a laboratory. He went the other way down the corridor and found the same frustrating configuration of offices and closets.
In the distance, he heard gunshots and an explosion.
When he turned a corner at the end of the corridor he came to a windowless door marked FORSCHUNGSLABOR #2—PRIVAT. Largo tried the door, but it wouldn’t budge.
There was another explosion nearby that shook the building. It was followed by several rapid bursts of gunfire.
Largo stepped back and fired at the lock twice. This time when he pulled, the door opened.
Inside was a brightly lit laboratory divided into two sections. The main room held two long black worktables covered with microscopes, test tubes, and glass and metal devices he couldn’t hope to identify. I was supposed to be here, he thought. This was supposed to be my world. But Branca and the Baron had snatched it away.
The building shook again. The orange and blue light of fires filtered into the room through the windows.
The second room of the laboratory looked like an operating room. There was a metal table with a large, bright light overhead. Near the table, used surgical instruments lay on a tray with specks of fresh blood around the rim. Largo noticed that the metal table was damp, as if it had recently been used.
He heard a crash in the other room.
A man in a white lab coat had jumped out from under one of the worktables, knocking over some equipment. He ran for the laboratory door.
“Stop,” shouted Largo. When the man didn’t, he shot at the door. The man stopped and put his hands over his head. “Turn around.”
The man turned. He was bald and had a great gray beard. “Dr. Venohr?” said Largo.
Venohr looked relieved and put his arms down. He said, “Largo, what are you doing here? Have you gone mad?”
Largo went to him and pointed the pistol at the doctor’s head. He said, “Where is Remy? Is she alive?”
Venohr put his hands back up. “Yes. Please calm down.”
“Is it really her? Not a Mara?”
Venohr waved his hands. “We made a Mara, but only so people wouldn’t miss her,” he said. He lowered his hands and clasped them in front of him. “She was magnificent—a Mara-eugenic hybrid grown from just a few cells of Remy’s flesh. The first of her kind.”
Largo pushed the doctor against the door. “Take me to her.”
Venohr shook his head as if trying to clear away an unpleasant thought. “Forget her!” he shouted. Then more quietly, “She’s contaminated.”
The way he said it infuriated Largo. He grabbed Venohr and pushed him onto a laboratory stool. He kept the pistol pointed at the doctor and said, “What does ‘contaminated’ mean?”
The doctor put his head in his hands. “The Mara was never the goal,” he said. “The Baron wanted her. We extracted a quantity of her essence—”
“Essence? What do you mean?”
“Flesh. Blood. Cells.” Venohr looked at him in mild disgust. “Do you even know what cells are? You ignorant boy.”
Largo gestured with the pistol. “Go on.”
“We fused her essence with that of a eugenic and the Baron infected her with it.”
Outside, there were more explosions and gunfire. Venohr cringed at the noise. Largo said, “The Baron wants to make Remy into a chimera?”
“No,” said the doctor. “Well, a bit. You see, by taking a bit of the eugenic’s essence he hoped he could tame her. Make her pliable.” Venohr smiled nervously. “Make her love him.”
Largo felt cold inside, almost like morphia withdrawal. “Did it work?”
Venohr said, “To some degree. It wasn’t clear if the procedure was entirely successful.”
Largo thought about everything he could remember from the last couple of weeks. He said, “Kara, the chimera in his office—is part of that Remy?”
“Yes,” said Venohr eagerly. “Gorgeous, isn’t she? The Baron used a small quantity of Remy’s essence in making Kara.”
Largo remembered petting her. “He said Kara didn’t like most people. But she liked me.”
“Yes, and it infuriated him.”
Largo pressed the gun to Venohr’s temple. “Kara isn’t all that’s left of Remy, is it?”
The doctor frowned. “Don’t be stupid. She’s still herself, just, you see, different. She’s unlikely to even recognize you.”
“Take me to her.”
One of the windows exploded, showering the room in glass. Largo ducked and Venohr crouched on the floor. “I can’t,” he said. “The Baron took her away days ago.”
“Where?”
Venohr got up on his knees. “He wouldn’t tell me. He said somewhere familiar where she’d be safe and happy.”
“Home?”
“No,” said Venohr conspiratorially. “He’s afraid of the police discovering our work. They’re cretins. They wouldn’t understand at all.”
Largo said, “Which work? Kidnapping people or changing them into your puppets?”
Venohr slowly stood back up. “You of all people should understand that we’re helping them. Think of it. No more morphia addicts. No more bullies or sexual degenerates. A country free of all aberrant behavior.”
“So you can rule them.”
Venohr looked offended. “So we can survive. Do you think we can win the war with those hordes in the streets?” With the window gone, the gunfire outside was louder than ever. The doctor glanced at Largo’s pistol. “Please don’t kill me.”
Largo remembered the night at the Golden Angel when Vera had said that Remy was an “empty vessel.” She could have meant the Mara Remy. Or the one transformed by chimera essence. He grabbed Venohr’s lab coat. “Too many people have lied to me tonight. Show me the other lab. I want to make sure she’s not there.”
With Venohr in front, they went into the corridor. Largo said, “Why is Schöne Maschinen digging up bodies in High Proszawa?”
Venohr stopped and spun around to look at him. “How do you know about that?”
“I was there. I saw it with my own eyes.”
The doctor turned away and shook his head. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
Largo hit him with the butt of the pistol.
Venohr stumbled against the wall with a hand on the back of his neck. He said, “We need the bodies. The city needs them.”
“Why?” shouted Largo.
The doctor took his hand from behind his hea
d and checked it for blood. “We hoped that when we took people from the streets and transfigured them into Maras there would be enough, but there simply wasn’t. That’s why we need more bodies.”
“Enough of what?”
“Trans zamlžení, of course,” said Venohr. “Where do you think plazma power comes from? The sky?”
Largo stood still for a moment, trying to process the thought. He remembered trans zamlžení drifting from Vera’s mouth as the spirit appeared. The Golden Angel burning. “A tricky substance,” she’d said. “Very volatile.” He looked at Venohr and said, “Isn’t trans zamlžení part of a person? Their spirit? You’re . . . you’re burning people for fuel?”
The doctor stood up from the wall as if offended. “We’re harvesting a vital element from corpses that don’t need it anymore.”
“Yes,” said Largo. “But you’re also making a lot of the corpses you’re draining.”
Venohr lunged at Largo and shoved him against the wall. As he ran down the corridor for the lift, Largo shot twice. The second shot knocked Venohr onto the floor. He shouted, “You hit my leg!”
“You’re lucky I’m not a better shot.”
Largo took out one of the amatol cakes, pushed the timer button, and threw it into Venohr’s laboratory. Then he went to Venohr and pulled him into the lift.
“What was that you threw?” said the doctor.
“You’ll see.”
The lift took them to the third floor. Just as the door opened, the building rocked with an explosion. Venohr looked at Largo. “My god. What have you done? All my notes were in there.”
“Good.”
Largo pushed the limping Venohr into the third-floor laboratory, where he tumbled onto his back, holding his bloody leg. The room looked almost exactly like the one on the second floor. And like that one, it was empty.
“See? I was telling the truth. Let me go,” Venohr said.
“Not until you tell me where Remy is.”
“Don’t you understand?” Venohr shouted. He held his hands out like claws. “She’s polluted. Not even human anymore. She might be insane, harbor diseases or worse.”
Largo said, “You said the technique might not have worked.”
“I was being modest.” Earnestly, he added, “Help me and we can find her together.”
Largo shook his head. The dead feeling settled into him again. “You’ve done enough for Remy.” He felt Venohr’s belt until he found a set of keys. He tried several in the laboratory lock before finding one that worked.
Venohr said, “Please. Together we can save her.”
“Goodbye, Doctor.” He pushed the timer on the second bar of amatol and tossed it on the floor with Venohr. On his way out he locked the door and broke off the key.
Largo was physically and mentally exhausted. He pushed the button for the lift and when the doors opened a woman stood there with a gun in her hand. He raised his and they both stood that way for a few seconds. Then he said, “Hanna?”
She lowered her pistol and hugged him. “Margit told me you were working with the group,” she said. “I thought you might need some help.”
“You’re the other contact in Schöne Maschinen,” he said. “It never crossed my mind.”
“Imagine my surprise when Margit told me you were coming tonight. But what are you doing in the labs?”
An explosion sent them sprawling against the wall. “We should leave,” said Largo. “I’ll explain things on the way.”
Hanna pressed the lift button for the first floor. Nothing happened. She motioned to Largo and they went down the stairs. As they went she said, “You’re looking for Remy, aren’t you?”
“Yes. Do you know where she is?”
“No. I was hoping she’d be in Venohr’s laboratory.”
“I was just there. It’s empty,” said Largo. “But I have an idea where she might be.”
Someplace she’s safe and happy.
When they got outside, the sound of gunfire and the whumps of explosions were even louder. The ground shook and the air was acrid with smoke. Men and women with rifles ran past them. Stumbling at the rear was a small blond woman holding her side with a bloody hand. “Margit!” called Hanna.
They ran to her as she fell onto the pavement. Hanna opened Margit’s jacket. “You’re hit,” she said.
Margit shook her head and winced. “It’s not that bad. I think it just broke some ribs.”
“You need to get out of here,” said Largo.
“We’re leaving,” Margit said. “The whole munitions building will blow soon. Help me to one of the juggernauts.”
Largo and Hanna got on either side of Margit and carried her to a line of transport vehicles by building 1. The rear of a juggernaut was open and people were scrambling inside. They set Margit on the floor. A dozen scared, pale fighters sat around them. Dieter was behind the controls at the front of the juggernaut.
“Is this everyone?” said Largo.
“All that are left,” said Mia.
Dieter extinguished the light and turned the juggernaut around. A moment later they sped down the driveway to the front gate of Schöne Maschinen. Largo moved up front. “Won’t the guards follow us?” he said.
“Let them try. We booby-trapped their vehicles.”
They burst through the gate without stopping as bullets peppered the juggernaut’s rear. From behind them came the sound of more explosions as the juggernauts blew up. Largo knelt beside Dieter and directed him along a circuitous path to Machtviertel.
Using only shadows and memory to direct them, to Largo the trip seemed to take hours.
When they arrived, Largo looked at the sky. “Won’t the flying Maras have followed us?”
“Let them,” said Mia. A moment later, the roundhouse where they’d met earlier exploded into flames. “We’re done with this place.”
The healthy people moved the injured ones from the juggernaut into a yellowsheet delivery van. Largo helped to carry Margit. As the van sped onto the main road away from Machtviertel Hanna examined her. Largo said, “Will she be all right?”
“I think so,” said Hanna.
Margit said, “There’s an underground hospital in Kromium. They can help us. Did you find Remy?”
“No, but I think I know where she is. I’m going to have to leave when we get back to the city.”
“Do what you have to,” Margit said. She squeezed Largo’s hand. “Welcome to the real war.”
He shook his head. “I’m no soldier.”
“Look around. Look at Hanna. We all said the same thing.”
He watched Hanna get a medical kit from a corner of the van and pack gauze into Margit’s wound. “Thank you for letting me come with you,” he said.
Margit closed her eyes. Largo looked at Hanna. She said, “Margit will be all right. I promise.”
There was a toolbox in the back of the van. He opened it and took out a crowbar. “Do you mind if I take this?” Largo said.
“Go ahead,” said Margit. “Find Remy.”
When they were back in the city, the van stopped just long enough for Largo to get out of the back. Hanna held out a hand to him and said, “Give Remy my love.”
While the earlier rain had cleared, a dense fog had settled over the city. Largo waved to Hanna as the van dissolved into the mist.
He walked to the Great Triumphal Square and hailed a Mara cab. When it asked where he wanted to go he said, “The Grand Dark.”
The Corrupter of Innocence, Act 1
Discarded draft of a new play by Una Herzog
CHARACTERS
HEINZ: A drug-addicted bicycle messenger and anarchist.
ELISE: An innocent young actress and Heinz’s lover.
Heinz comes home to their cramped and filthy flat after a meeting with his anarchist cell. He is unshaven and in a foul mood.
ELISE
How was your meeting, my love?
HEINZ
Don’t ask stupid questions. Did you do it?
Elise looks frightened.
ELISE
I couldn’t. Don’t be mad. I know he’s a politician, but he’s an old man with a family.
Heinz slaps her viciously.
HEINZ
Fool! All it would have taken was one thrust of the knife. The Party will have my head for this.
ELISE
Can’t someone else do it?
HEINZ
We’re all being watched. It had to be you. (Bitterly) An innocent lily of the field. Too bad she’s an idiot too.
ELISE
I’m sorry. Here’s the knife back.
Elise meekly puts it on the table. Heinz shoves her away violently.
ELISE
Would you like some tea? I just made it.
HEINZ
No.
ELISE
A drink?
HEINZ
No! I have to think.
ELISE
Here’s some tea in case you change your mind.
She wanders their dirty flat picking up his clothes, which he has carelessly strewn everywhere. Heinz clearly sees her as little more than a servant.
ELISE
I didn’t see your bicycle this morning.
HEINZ
I had to sell it for morphia, you cow. The bottle is in the bedroom. Bring it to me.
Elise cowers in the corner of the room.
ELISE
My mother’s bad back . . . her poor twisted hands from years of work . . . She was in so much pain.
HEINZ
What are you telling me?
ELISE
I gave it to her.
HEINZ
All of it?
ELISE
I’m sorry.
HEINZ
How dare you? First you won’t do your duty to the Party and now you starve me of my one pleasure in life? You’re not even a good fuck anymore.
ELISE
Please! I try so hard. What can I do to make it up to you?
Heinz throws the tea in Elise’s face. She screams as it burns delicate flesh. (Speak to technicians about erupting into boils and scars)
HEINZ
How can you make it up to me? I’ll show you!
Heinz grabs the knife from the table.
HEINZ
You can die, you whore!
Heinz stabs her. She screams in agonizing death throes. (Draw these out. Show the audience what a monster he is.)
The Grand Dark Page 42
