K Jeter - The Kingdom of Shadows

“This is my home now.” She managed to say it defiantly, while wondering what he’d meant, and exactly what he knew, when he’d said the words your people.

“Ah.” The last trace of the smile faded. “Yes, we had been informed that inquiries had been made, regarding how American citizenship could most easily be obtained for you. Of course, you have my apologies if that is turning out to be more difficult than your patron Herr David Wise had expected. Even with friends as powerful as his, these things take time. Especially if some of the arrangements that had previously been made on your behalf were… shall we say?… somewhat unusual.”

Again fear touched her, a cold fingertip laid against her heart. What did he know? All of them, the faceless ones in the consulate in Los Angeles or the Gestapo headquarters in Berlin – what was in their files, what had they found out about her? Everything she had told von Behren, just a few years ago, after he’d first come across her at the Romanische Cafe, he had told her to keep all that their secret, to never tell anyone else. The things that had happened at the Lebensborn hostel – who could understand that? They wouldn’t, they would despise her or laugh at her so cruelly that her film career would be over; the Americans were addicted to gossip, they loved to tear apart a bleeding fellow creature. And then the precarious safety that she and Ernst had achieved would be over, the money and the so-helpful influence from the studio would all vanish overnight.

She hadn’t even told David any of these things, the true secrets. How could she risk it? If he were to stop loving her, stop wanting to possess her; if he were to turn away from her in disgust… what would she be then? If she couldn’t see herself reflected in the mirror of his eyes, or up on the screen of the films he made…

She didn’t know. Perhaps nothing at all. Like a shadow that vanishes when a harsh light is switched on, leaving a room empty at last.

“ Fraulein Helle?”

The consulate official’s voice brought her back from her dark thoughts. She looked up and saw his simulation of kind concern.

“I think you misjudge my intentions here.” Somehow, he had peered inside her skull; he had to be Gestapo, they knew how to do that. “It would not be my wish – or anyone’s – to do that which would damage your career. Your success, the image on the world’s theater screens of such a beautiful and pure Nordic racial type as yourself -” His thin smile crept out again. “That is a great source of pride to the Reich’s guardians of culture. I have just recently returned from our native land, from Berlin. I had some interesting discussions with Reichsminister Goebbels. Whom I believe you’ve met, and spoken with, before your own departure?” The smile became even more insinuating. “I can assure you that the Reichsminister continues to take a lively interest in your performances. The first film you did for the Wise Studios – what was it? August and September, if I recall correctly. Something like that, nicht wahr?”

“Yes…”

“I did not see it; my apologies. A comedy, was it?”

She shook her head. “A drama. Herr Wise thought I should start with something like that.”

“ Herr Wise knows his business. I understand the film was a success – or at least successful enough. Both here and then in Europe. In Berlin, even the Reichminister went to the theater and saw it. He likes to go out among the people, now and then. I’m sure you’ll be pleased to hear that he found the film to be… very moving. He was quite caught up in your performance. I sat a few seats away from him, and I saw him lean forward, every time your face was on the screen, as though he wished he could somehow transport himself right into the scene with you.” The consulate official’s smile showed tolerant amusement. “I find it remarkable how powerfully these films affect even the strongest-willed man. But then that is your magic, Fraulein Helle, is it not? That is why it is your face on the screen, and not that of another woman.”

She said nothing. The mention of Joseph’s name, the way the consulate official had spoken it, had trapped her, incapable of moving. She could only wait, to hear what came next.

The official poked at the still-burning stub in the ashtray, watching the thread of smoke rise. “It is, in fact, upon the Reichsminister ’s instructions that I have come here, Fraulein Helle.” He leaned back in the armchair, regarding her through the cage of his fingertips placed together. “In his capacity as overseer of the German film industry, he wishes to extend an invitation to you. I was instructed to be as discreet as possible in this matter, while at the same time conveying to you the utmost seriousness in which the offer is made. That is why I came to see you in this manner. Privately, as it were.”

Marte forced her words past the stone that had lodged in her throat. “What does he… what does the Reichsminister want?”

“He wants you, Fraulein Helle.” The consulate official spoke without smiling this time. “Not for himself, of course – the Reichsminister is a man of honor and duty. But for the German nation, and the Volk whose blood is in your veins. He wishes you to return to Germany – immediately – and resume your film career there. But not as another mere actress, one among the many at the UFA studios. No, you would be the queen of the German cinema. Those are exactly the words the Reichsminister used – die Konigin des deutschen Filmes. This is an extraordinary thing, Fraulein Helle. To no woman before has such an invitation been made. You would be the most highly honored and glorified actress upon the screens of the German theaters – and more than that; in all the theaters of the world.”

The man’s words had pressed her back into her chair, as though he had placed his outspread fingertips against her breast and pinned her there. “I don’t… I don’t know if I want that…”

“Oh?” He raised an eyebrow. “To be seen by all men, to be admired, desired by them? What actress – what woman – doesn’t want that? Perhaps it is something else.” His narrow gaze pierced her. “Perhaps it is that you do not wish to leave your comfortable home, your coddled life here in America. Though I can assure you that the sacrifice of returning to Germany would be in your case a very small one. The Reichsminister would see to that a heroine such as yourself would suffer no… privations, as it were.” The word had twisted in his mouth, as though it were a sour taste on his tongue that he wanted to spit out.

“I don’t want to leave…” There were no secrets that she could conceal from him. “I’m… I’m safe here…”

“Yes, of course you are. To go from this land of peace and return to a homeland that is now at war… a war pressed upon Germany by the conspiracy of its enemies… you find that prospect frightening; I understand that.” The consulate official’s voice turned softer, feigning kindness. “But do you really think, Fraulein Helle, that this refuge you have found here will last forever? This is a war not just between nations, or even between ideologies, but a war between one blood – the pure Aryan blood of heroes – and that of the mongrel races who would destroy it. Do you think America can avoid being drawn into that final conflict?”

“David… Herr Wise told me… he said that America wouldn’t go to war…”

“ Herr Wise is a clever man, isn’t he? A very clever… Jew.” The consulate official’s voice darkened with a withering contempt. “And of course, for Jews there never are wars; they find others to fight them, and to die in them. Herr Wise and his breed stay safe in their counting houses until all is quiet again, and then they go out onto the battlefield to pluck the bits of gold from the dead and dying. Germany and France and England have gone to war, and all the other nations of Europe, and yet it is always der ewige Jude who has won.” The official’s face grew heavy with brooding. “Your clever Herr Wise may have a surprise in store for him this time, however. This time, the war will come to the Jews, and they won’t escape.”