T.I.M.E Stories by Christophe Lambert

T.I.M.E Stories by Christophe Lambert

Author:Christophe Lambert
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780857668547
Publisher: Watkins Media
Published: 2020-06-14T16:00:00+00:00


CHAPTER 4

What one noticed first about Hitler were his intense blue eyes and his extremely penetrating gaze. He listened in silence as his officers expounded their views. Apparently, whatever the two men had to say did not interest him much. The torrent of words washed over him without any effect. He seemed lost in his thoughts. After a while, he turned to the magnificent German shepherd lying on the carpet behind him.

“Blondi!”

The dog leapt up and approached its master in a docile manner. Hitler caressed its muzzle.

The first waiter had set down his dishes in front of the two generals. Then it was Tess’s turn. By this point, her heart had gone into turbo mode.

Don’t screw up, she admonished herself.

The Führer interrupted his dining partners by asking the civilian, a scrawny man with a bald head, “Have you tried out the services of our bathing car, Herr Kuhn?”

“Not yet, mein Führer.”

“Eleven thousand litres of water on demand. A bathroom in marble, showers, a barber shop, a sauna…”

Tess could not believe her ears. The Wehrmacht was about to make its biggest gamble yet in Russia, and its supreme commander was sitting here boasting to his guest about the train’s bathing facilities!

“I believe my assistant is testing the sauna as we speak,” Kuhn declared with a smile.

“Did you hear that?” Tess transmitted to the rest of the team. “He has an assistant!”

“Good,” commented Hitler. “Very good.”

Tess placed the first plate (the one with scrambled eggs and salad) in front of the Führer and noticed in passing that the Nazi leader’s left arm was trembling slightly. He looked at his meal without any sign of an appetite. The eyes that had seemed so lively a moment earlier now seemed lost and melancholy, almost inert. His arm grew still, but now his eyelids were twitching.

Hitler said nothing and did nothing (indeed, he seemed apathetic and even downcast), yet a truly malignant aura seemed to emanate from him. Tess felt a series of concentric, almost palpable, waves wash over her. It was like standing next to a powerful transmitter.

Tess looked at the Nazi leader’s silverware, and more particularly his knife. She could seize hold of it and stab the monster in the throat. By doing so, she would immediately sign her receptacle’s death warrant, but how many hundreds of thousands of lives would be spared? How many millions?

Five minutes ago, she had been warning off Dominika; now the same temptation grew within her, like an evil yeast, so strong that it impregnated all her thoughts.

“Do it,” urged Dominika. “A thousand times, do it!”

“Out of the question,” James intervened. “We can’t interfere with events that way.”

“The probabilities,” babbled Rr’naal. “A rupture of the continuum…”

The dog Blondi seemed to sense something amiss because he turned his muzzle toward this rather slow waiter and began to growl quietly.

Tess’s heartbeat accelerated, and she felt her blood pulsing in her throat, her temples, her ears, everywhere. She could no longer hear anything else. She looked at Hitler. Hitler turned his head and looked at her, as if suddenly remembering her presence.



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