The Vengeance of Rome
- Автор: Муркок Майкл
- Серия: Between The Wars #4
- Язык: английский
- Жанр: Научная фантастика
Электронная книга - «The Vengeance of Rome». Краткое содержание книги:
He had a way of taking you by the elbow and seeming to draw you into his confidence. Certain kinds of women were fascinated by him. Many years later Jack Trevor told me his technique for picking up women. He cultivated an interesting disease or wound. Women were always attracted to medical conditions. Far from being a handicap, Goebbels’s twisted foot was a sexual asset! It always struck me as odd that he should be such an enthusiast for euthanasia, a sign, no doubt, of his euphoric retreat from reality. This was a characteristic in almost all the Nazis after 1934. The world began to slip out of their control almost as soon as they thought they had it. That was why they had to demonstrate control more and more, to prove their power to themselves. That mindset simplifies the world in order to understand it, thereby understanding less and less. By use of force they can for a time prove their version of the world. As the world refuses to comply, throwing up more and more surprises, they are forced to grow increasingly violent to sustain their ‘truth’.
Such men rarely understand how large a part luck has played in their careers. That failing becomes almost every eminent man’s Achilles heel.
I think Hitler realised his luck. He was a natural chancer, as Mr Mix put it, the ultimate opportunist, like a flea who lies dormant until a lucky wind or a useful rat comes by. Then he jumps, hoping for the best. Hitler remained in bed, reading light novels, listening to operetta on the gramophone, until his instincts recognised an opportunity. A chameleon, he would say anything, take any position, certain that the Führer Principle or blind instinct directed his changes of approach. A beautifully simple system needed a beautifully complex man like Hitler to run it. Terrified by his own complexes, Hitler disguised his fear well in company. ‘That ‘Itler could seduce ther Archbishop o’ Canterbury, slimy bugger. Ol’ Gobbles is in love wiv ‘im,’ thought Mrs Cornelius.
Doctor Goebbels had no idea, of course, that I was familiar with his leader’s foibles. Like a loyal, half-despairing wife, he retailed much gossip with a kind of mocking admiration of Hitler. This made a fellow conspirator of you, drawing you in until you were involved in supporting Hitler in spite of knowing the reality.
‘The Little Doctor’ had been talking to Schirach about me. He knew I had invented the famous Violet Ray of Kiev. Some thought that story a myth, he said slyly. I laughed. A few more watts and we should have wiped out the Reds in minutes. The power station was the first thing they hit. We were overwhelmed. While admiring my acting, Goebbels was especially interested in my engineering projects. He and Göring were great champions of air travel. Again I glimpsed a golden future for myself. I was the twentieth-century Leonardo, as familiar with the arts as I was skilled in the sciences. Goebbels clapped me on the shoulder. Men like me were flocking to Berlin because they sensed their bold ideas might at last become reality. ‘I’m so glad you’re one of us.’
He must have had my background checked out, discovering not only my political stance but my ancestry. I had been circumcised for clinical reasons but had to explain, for simplification’s sake, how I had been forced to convert to Islam by the Tuareg in the Sahara. My enforced captivity by the Mussulman and his imposition on me of his religion and its practices was, for some reason, a more acceptable explanation than the simple truth. At least I did not have to mention my dastardly father forcing his scientific notions on me. No wonder I have been suspicious of abstraction and perverse idealism all my life! I prefer actions, not words, to speak for me!
In spite of Goebbels’s invitation to his parties, I did not engage with Berlin’s infamous demi-monde. I had been kept far too busy by Munich’s. My Spartan visits to the capital helped demonstrate my conservative values to Doctor Hugenberg, who became less and less suspicious of me and much happier about leaving Mrs Cornelius in my company. I sensed my ambitions coming to fruition, even by such a strange route. The cinema had always been good to me. Ultimately it would lead me back to my true destiny. I remained baffled about who had been responsible for blocking those same ambitions in Italy! Happily, I had never turned over to Il Duce the full details of my inventions.
As a press tycoon, Doctor Hugenberg’s friendship also promised to stand me in good stead. As I built up my career again, I intended to renew my acquaintance with Goebbels and Göring. Perhaps after a decent passage of time, I might even show my ideas to Hitler. Hitler, however, was not yet in full control of Germany. Few these days understand how he worked his way through the democratic system, taking full advantage of the German constitution, to gain what he wanted. If the German people had not been encouraged to fear interference from outside, they would never have given him so much power.
The atmosphere of intrigue in Berlin was palpable. I myself again felt I was being followed. At least once in Leipziger Platz I saw Brodmann in a small cafe drinking a Berliner Weisse mit Schuss. Munich had by now become my natural home. I was relieved to learn I would not have to spend too much time in the capital.
Doctor Hugenberg announced that he had decided to produce the ‘Shatterhand’ series himself, since he had promised May’s heirs faithful renditions. I was delighted he decided it was more economical to base production at the Munich studio. I would not have to run the risk of encountering old, unwelcome faces. Of course Frau Oberhauser was no longer a threat, but I could not help wondering about that child of hers. How old was he now? How much might she have told him? Did he, for instance, believe that I was his father? Before I left Berlin I did try to find Kitty again, but she and Prince Freddy were not easy to contact. Many had heard of them. Few had met them. I did not look too hard, fearing the news would get back to Hugenberg. But I longed to know if the boy had gone to other relatives or was now with his half-sister.
Hugenberg explained again how Munich was closer to where he planned to film our outdoor scenes and location shots. The Croatian Alps would stand in for the rocks and rivers of Winnetou’s ‘Sacred Land’.
Old Shatterhand, exploring the unmapped West, would come upon this Sacred Land, defended by the Red Gentleman, and at first they would clash. Then Shatterhand would begin to understand Winnetou’s values and ride side by side with him to evict the alien invaders, sending them back to the East where they came from. The films would have a solid budget, but on no account were they to overrun it. If a film went beyond budget, the extra money needed would be taken from the next film’s budget, thus encouraging discipline in actors and directors.
Increasingly, von Schirach visited me there in Corneliusstrasse. Sometimes I stayed overnight with the Fraus but generally I slept in my little apartment. Seryozha was forever offering to put me up in his hotel suite, but I knew what that would lead to. To be honest, I was not really looking forward to travelling with him. He had become part of the film team along with Mr Mix. Mrs Cornelius had insisted on it. She was not one to leave old friends behind.
Our location work would be something of a timely vacation. Mrs Cornelius was less enthusiastic. Croatia was a backward country. She was afraid she would have to ‘rough it’.
The day of departure arrived. Doctor Hugenberg’s people determined our locations, booked our lodgings in Zagreb and Split and then wished us ‘bon voyage’. Taking the train from Nice, our director would join us in a few days.
On that beautiful May morning shortly before I was due to leave Corneliusstrasse, suitcase in hand, I received a note in the mail from Kitty in Berlin. She was coming back to Munich and looked forward to seeing me. I was even gladder to be leaving. Some sense of gathering darkness was now associated with that young lady. I remained uneasy about the circumstances of her mother’s death and still wondered how much she had told the boy. At the station I joined the rest of the party. Mrs Cornelius had also had a letter to say Doctor Hugenberg would come as soon as possible. He was dealing with yet another government crisis. Hugenberg’s Reichstag duties, the unstable nature of the government together with the Berlin elections, required more of his attention than he had estimated.