"I'm coming in. I haven't been in a while, Brenner. I see you've lost some weight."

  The first thing to fall out of her mouth when she came in was one to share with an old friend. The woman who answered with a natural, warm smile was once again someone so very different from Eleonore.

  "If we're talking about what's different, I just have to mention your glare getting more intense than ever. You look like you're having a really draining life. Now, why would the respected soldier and a cadet for command posts since the start of BDM bother looking for me, of all people? I really think you're not here to congratulate an old friend on becoming engaged."

  "Of course I'm not."

  After the curt comment, Eleonore had dropped a stack of papers on the desk.

  "I have something I need to ask you. Do you know exactly where the crime scene is that everyone has been talking about?"

  "Why would I ask you?"

  "Don't play dumb that your people have nothing to do with this. You learn about the habits of your future husbands, trade that amongst yourselves, and take actions not to be discarded. Being cunning and manipulative is what makes you women."

  "You're a woman, too."

  "I'm not in the mood to argue over semantics. Just tell me if you know where it is and if you'll cooperate."

  Her attitude was intimidating, and all of her nonverbal cues expressed open hostility. It was as though she was communicating silently that she hated the women.

  As though used to such treatment, the other female only smiled wryly. At last, the subordinate of the red-haired first lieutenant ventured to intervene hesitantly.

  "Umm, Lieutenant. I don't think being so belligerent will do what you're hoping for."

  "My, what a cute little lady. Does she work for you?"

  "Well, she."

  "Yes. I am Warrant Officer Beatrice Waltrud Von Kircheisen. I just graduated from the Jugend and was assigned to serve under First Lieutenant Eleonore von Wittenburg. I'm a battle maiden in the prime of life!"

  ".???."

  "For the time being, just ignore this thing. Normally, graduates of the Jugend with distinction are promoted to second lieutenant, but this one has problems, as you can see. What a display of poor standards."

  "The best? So you're very able, aren't you, young woman?"

  "Yes! Mother and Father were very proud of me."

  "Kircheisen."

  "Yes?"

  "Silence."

  "Jawohl."

  "So, Brenner. Wait, what are you laughing at?"

  Thinking she was being mocked, Eleonore toughened her tone, but Lisa only waved her hand lightly to appease the soldier-woman and smiled even more radiant, as if to bless her dear friend.

  "Oh, sorry about that. It's just that, the kind of trouble you have makes me a little bit jealous. And as an answer to your question. Yes, we know about it. After all — in our case, you could say women are the clients."

  ".?"

  "You don't understand? Basically."

  Just before she said something, Beatrice understood the meaning of the phrase and began visibly panicking.

  "Huh? Huuuh? Does that mean that."

  "Oh, I understand. It all fits. This is actually a den of perverted she-bitches. I'm afraid to even ask, but have you."

  "Don't misunderstand. Many girls here are sorry for what they've done in the past. All I do is hear them out."

  "They confess and they feel redeemed. In short, this is a refuge for filth. Hmph, you're right in the family now, Brenner. If your boyfriend leaves you, you can take the veil."

  "Oh, I'll think about it. And what are you going to do now, Eleonore? Are you going to sue Lebensborn and send us to the ghetto?"

  "I can do that, but I have something wiser on my mind. As I calculate you, you're using the information as a card to make the she-dogs' flaws go under consideration. Well, I know you're not the type to talk if one gives you a beating, and however low, you are a high-ranking official's fiancé. As much as it annoys me, I must be nice to you."

  "I see. Thanks. Then I will—"

  "Take us to the place. Now."

  "Why, naturally. As I gathered, the Gestapo are also going there tonight."

  Eleonore furrowed her brows and agreed to the news. It seemed that shocking news caught Lisa even faster than she had expected.

  "How inconvenient. Though, it could work for us."

  "Umm, Lieutenant."

  "What?"

  "Are we really taking her? It's dangerous."

  "Ah, you don't know what kind of woman she is. She can just as well lie and cheat us out of it if we don't make her play along. It's quite a very good offer, Kircheisen. You will learn one of the lessons of life."

  "Which is.?"

  Eleonore looked at Riza and Beatrice before inflating herself with pride and making a pronouncement as if she herself did not belong to the same classes of people.

  "Don't trust women."

  ___________

  _______

  ___

  "And so, on behalf of Wolfram von Sievers, director of the German Ancestral Heritage Institute, you will receive the object in question. My name is Valeria Trifa, and I am a priestess of the seventeenth jurisdiction in the Eastern Orthodox Church. I bless you and your path. Amen."

  "Amen."

  Cathedral shook to a woman's dismal prayer. Yet the very next instant, her shoulders shook a little bit as she began to laugh.

  "Eheh. Eheheh. Ahahahaha. Oh dear, sorry about that. I don't think I'm quite suited for this at all. It's just, I don't know, bending myself and pulling a meek face only makes a laugh of me. I even have the awful habit of giggling at funerals and the living."

  Her cackling face was positively imprude. With the dress that highlighted her voluptuous figure, her behavior could too readily be stamped as heresy.

  "Oh, but I really am grateful for this, Father. I pretty much bullied you into giving me something this important."

  "No need to thank me. I do not know how things would have otherwise been, but today, Ahnenerbe is the property of the SS. If it is good for the country, we have no business not cooperating."

  The priest, despite his office, did not say a word about her blasphemy. On the one hand, he was a saint by reputation and on the other a wretched-looking man with no aura of commanding authority about him. He was excellent as a listener, but the humility of his presence made him look more than very unsuitable to speak down to individuals. He seemed to possess totally no vitality.

  Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

  The woman playing with the bottle in her hand cast a sidelong glance at the faint smile of the priest and asked him.

  "Hmm? So this is how it is? Also, as grateful as I am, I cannot help but wonder if this is indeed the real thing."

  "It likely is. They told me it was a secret treasure within a monastery at Constantinople for centuries. Count Vlad Dracula's blood. Even so, it crystallized and is less fluid and more powdery at this point."

  "The Dark Gift. Kaziklu Bey, isn't it? I suppose it would have to make a person who drank it into a vampire. What do you think?"

  "That is something I would not know. But if it in fact capable of such a thing and Rome discovered that it was in our hands, they would most definitely issue a call for a Crusade. Honestly, I could not be more pleased to have gotten rid of it."

  "I understand. I'll gladly take it, then. As much as I hate the Vatican — the murderous imbeciles — I don't think they'd ever attack Germany the way they are now."

  The current state of affairs would depend on it. Although the Vatican was a sovereign state, they could not close their eyes to their human condition in Italy. A human alliance with their host country was as good as certain by the day. Having said that, no matter how disgusting and heretical the relic was, they could not do much against the Ahnenerbe group, now a national institution.

  The lady, smiling with that fact apparently liking her, flashed a wicked smile like a scornful witch for Rome.

  "Father, I feel exceptionally well right now. Do you wish to join me in a leisurely stroll through the evening streets?"

  "Oh, but I."

  "To be sincere, I'm a little interested in you. I simply can't explain it, but."

  She halted and looked at the priest.

  [You look delicious.]

  A few odd seconds afterwards, the priest seemed to feel something too.

  "."

  It made him place his hand on his chest, wrinkle his brows, and wet his forehead with sweat. Seeing him like that, the woman did an over-the-top display of shock.

  "Oh my. Is there something wrong, Father? You don't look good."

  "It is nothing to mention. Don't mind me."

  "Hmm. I see."

  "What?"

  "Oh, it's nothing remarkable. I only remembered a funny rumor I had heard sometime back. Apparently, in the countryside of Romania, there was a priest who heard the voice of God. He was proficient at finding relics such as these — could hear the curses and other strange ideas that shrouded the objects. By what I've been able to find out, by modern standards, his ability was either psychometry or telepathy. He saw, read, and heard the thoughts and memories of people and objects. It envied me. Doing this business often leaves me wishing I possessed such high-grade radar myself. Do you have that kind of person among those you know?"

  The priest looked away from the inquiring gaze of the woman and nodded his head.

  "I do not know about that. I have been a servant of God for many years now, but being ordinary man as I am, I have never seen such a miracle. Besides, as you explain it to me, it does not sound like the blessing you proclaim it to be."

  "True enough. That's a cliche comparison, but the experience would be much like being inundated with televisions and radios that you could not turn off. I do not think that any such person could sleep well. Yes, they would look like you. Bags under your eyes and all that."

  ".

  "Of course, I think that fellow lucky for his times. If he were born a century or two earlier, they would have dragged him off to the fire at once. Would not he then have turned up on precisely this day and epoch because he had some task to fulfill?"

  "Oh? And what might that be, for example?"

  "To be able to so easily blend in with other people, perhaps he can even become somebody else — appropriate their identity. Suppose he despises that power but somebody else can desire it desperately. If both desire what they want, then it is conceivable that they might exchange."

  "A trade?"

  "A brain transplant, essentially. Well, not exactly like they can do it with today's technology. If his brain had this weird wiring that caused him to hear the torture sound, replacing it with another's head would eliminate it. No, wait. Might as well do the whole thing and rip out his soul to make it live inside someone else. Eheheh, it sounds almost like a fairy tale."

  "Yes. As realistic as catching clouds."

  "Well, I merely kidded about the last line. While my work is deeply rooted in the occult, I've never known anyone to be able to do anything this ridiculous or any method whereby one would be able to do this."

  "A pipe dream, huh?"

  "Yes. But anyway, Father, what's your take on my proposal?"

  The strange and ominous mysteriousness surrounding the woman suddenly disappeared as she turned to the priest with a bright and girly smile. The sight made him chuckle. He could tell everything that she had been thinking plain as written on a piece of paper.

  "A nightly stroll?"

  "Yes. Care to come along?"

  ".It seems that I have no other choice. It feels like you would spread some baseless rumor about me if I don't go with you."

  "Ahahah, oh dear. Of course, I would."

  The woman went around and left the palace of worship. Outside the door was the city of Berlin, permeated with the spirit of Christmas.

  "Let us go, Father. The stars tonight are beautiful."

  "Certainly they are. I think that the sky may fall and kill me at any time."

  The priest emerged and sighed in a tone bearing both shock and sorrow.

  "I just can't help wondering. If this sky and these stars above are over the whole world and over everyone in it, why do people fight one another? If it is at all possible, I wish that this war could be the last one for human beings. Is it too silly to dream this way?"

  "Who knows? But I think there is only one way your dream can become reality."

  The priest gave her a quizzical stare as she grinned impishly and answered in an unnervingly calm voice.

  "To make this war last forever. That's all, Father."