PSALM 44 (6 page)

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Authors: Aleksandar Hemon and John K. Cox

BOOK: PSALM 44
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Those are Dr. Nietzsche

s experiments.

What

s that supposed to mean, Jakob?

Someone should slip her some morphine. Or something like that. Do you see?

So that she

ll die?

Yes. So she

ll go to sleep
; then she understood everything and she recalled Marija

s mood when she had been summoned the first time: she believed that after the examination she would be packed off home. So she told Jakob once more:

Do that for her. Try to do it for her. I implore you, Jakob.

I

ll try
, Jakob said.
But it should have been done earlier. I worry that it

s already too late.

She knew, therefore, that Jakob wasn

t going to protest now but also wasn

t going to be lulled into complacency; and anyway it was high time for Dr. Nietzsche to start whatever he had come to Jakob for at that time of night, the real conversation he wanted to have, just between them, a confidential talk, as though between colleagues; that is, that thing on account of which he had right till this moment been hemming and hawing and mincing around Jakob with his little short sword, but in a conciliatory way, as if he were only playing, though Jakob had to feel the danger too, or else he wouldn

t have said, a little earlier,

If I were to forget that even for a minute . . .

a comment he didn

t finish although it had to mean something, but Dr. Nietzsche would have to get to the point at last if for no other reason than because Jakob would challenge him eventually for he surely hadn

t forgotten that he

d locked Marija in the cabinet, and he knew that she couldn

t stand there like that forever but was going to collapse or cry out or give a loud moan; and then she thought that maybe it was a good thing that she too

even though it came at the cost of so great an effort and so many trials

was in attendance at this secret duel, this dangerous game in which one of the players has a jack of spades with two swords on his side and the other has only the imaginary shield of a poker face and his intellect and perhaps of time as well: if the Allied forces somewhere in Europe or in the Urals or the Pacific didn

t manage to remove several tens of thousands of jacks of clubs, clad in tunics and armed with their two swords, from the deck, and soon, thereby joining forces with time (the ace of hearts), Dr. Nietzsche would have his two SS men work Jakob over

in spades

as punishment for his disobedience and his passive resistance, and Marija would remain there in that cabinet bleeding out like a slaughtered lamb hung upside down on a hook. And for an instant she wondered how this game without rules would evolve if she weren

t there; she decided that even if she bled to death and so stopped eavesdropping and spying on the game, invisible but present, even then they would, nonetheless, still feel her mute presence (in the same way that she now felt the presence of Polja

s corpse in the barracks), her testimony or her accusation: Jakob would then, if only that one time, give a different response, even though it might only vary by a shade from the one he threw back at Dr. Nietzsche now, in front of her.

The chair scraped anew and she saw the unseen skull of Dr. Nietzsche and his graying locks
á
la
Schopenhauer, as she had noted to herself the first time she saw him, as he looked angrily into Jakob

s invisible face:


You are familiar with the situation on the front lines?

he said.


One hears talk.


Unfortunately, it

s accurate,

Dr. Nietzsche said.

The Allies are advancing. You know that to be the case. No less so than I do.


It

s more that I have a premonition of it,

Jakob said.


Yes, yes. You

re all . . . You

re all Bergsonians, goddamn it.

He paused for a moment:

Intuition . . . versus free will.


Ah,

Jakob continued.

Also sprach Zarathustra
.


Never mind that now,

Dr. Nietzsche said nervously.

Let

s get down to cases; this conversation has led us far afield.

Then, at last, he said something which must have signified the beginning of that discussion for the sake of which he was now sitting there with Jakob

she was just as impatient as either of the men

so that things could finally get started and then what had to happen could finally happen and this game could be wrapped up and she could be rescued but it still seemed to her that time wasn

t moving, was at a standstill, just like this conversation being conducted by two voices, their speakers invisible, while she bled to the point of passing out with strained attentiveness in a position of both disfigured sacrifice and unseen witness; she was horribly dependent upon the words and the voices she could hear and on the facial expressions and hand gestures she couldn

t see while at the same time aware of her own role and her own movements, her own immobility that was every bit as significant and momentous as the two men

s words; aware to the point of pain and numbness both that every movement of her hand and even every beat of her pulse was governed by that diminutive cogwheel of events; and not only that: even every one of her thoughts connected with Jakob denoted something essential because it guided her and floated, invisibly present, now more than ever before, because of that sacrificial blood that was running out of her and depriving her of strength and dimming her consciousness

it was not just the pledge of her absolute union with Jakob but also the pledge and guarantee of her complicity in all of life

s temptations and accordingly also the pledge and guarantee of their joint conspiracy against death, and accordingly she had to hold out and not pass out, especially now, when it had already commenced, the thing to which she was so insanely bearing witness with her presence and her blood that was not merely the price of love and of love

s embrace but also (miraculously) evidence of the principle of life and of the thirst for life, for the presence or appearance of death always challenges love to pair off with it and mate so that finally one of them can take up the conqueror

s standard and wave it above the world; that breathless pairing of corpses and that love between Eros and Thanatos, born of antagonism, was no less than the clash of fundamental elements, of earth and blood, sometimes nearly incomprehensible as long as one is thinking of the basic nature of those substances and their original components: the vague, well-nigh organic sensation of all of this kept her mind alert; this encounter between love and death in her consciousness and in her blood: she could still hear Dr. Nietzsche

s words, uttered in a lowered voice, in what was almost a whisper:

I have a concrete suggestion for you
. . . More or less a
quid pro quo
. Yes. A little favor in return.


A favor in return?

Jakob asked.


A trifle,

Nietzsche responded.

You will do a little job for me. If you don

t deny that it is only your doing me a favor in return . . . But of course. Only in that case. Otherwise . . .


Otherwise what?

Jakob asked.

Otherwise what?


Otherwise I can remind you of the favors I

ve already done you. By way of the fact that you

re still alive, for one . . . But I don

t believe you would show me such ingratitude. I don

t believe you would walk away just like that. Without a rematch.

And then the doctor went on, still bearing arms, albeit merely a wooden, gold-plated sword:

But it

s still too soon for good-byes. I think it is too soon indeed . . . so let me get to the point.


I

m listening,

Jakob said; then Dr. Nietzsche:


I

m talking to you above all as a scientist and a doctor. Bear that in mind. As a
Nazi doctor
, of course.


But of course,

Jakob said.

I

m listening.


You know about the collecting of Jewish skulls and skeletons?


I

ve heard about it.


So much the better. I had assumed as much; it means at the very least that you

ve already thought about all of this,

Dr. N. said,

. . . and that you have, naturally, your own opinions about it all.


Actually . . .

but Jakob couldn

t finish his sentence.


At this time I have no intention (after all I

ve just told you) of inquiring after your personal opinion on the matter. I only want to remind you that the bottom line is that that these collections number among the favors that I mentioned to you a moment ago (to your prodigious amazement), which I undertook on your behalf . . .


For me?


For your nation,

Nietzsche said.

Same thing.

Then he corrected himself:

For your
race
, actually.


I don

t understand,

Jakob said.

For my race . . . ?


It amazes me the way your intuition . . . But let

s drop it for now.

It is, I believe, obvious to you that should genocide be carried out (as has been planned

something you also know full well), nothing would remain of your race except this collection of skulls.


It

s not clear to me


Jakob said,

I

m not completely clear on what it is you want from me. Even if I could intuit what you

re getting at with this talk of
favors
you

ve done for my race, as you put it, it remains unclear to me what my return favor should, in concrete terms, consist of.


Simple,

Dr. Nietzsche said in confidence.

I want you to do whatever you can to keep the collection from being destroyed,
if this becomes necessary
. I think you understand me. It is especially important (and this is part of your assignment) that your rescue only be attempted . . .

Then he stopped, looking for the right word:

. . .
at the right time
. Yes. At the right time. I think you understand me. I am speaking in the interests of science more than anything (which in this case are also the interests of your race):
Do not allow this collection to be destroyed
.


I don

t understand,

Jakob said.

I truly do not understand.


This means nothing to you?

Dr. Nietzsche asked, almost offended.


That

s not the point,

Jakob said.

I simply don

t understand what my assignment actually consists of

nor my favor in return.


Well then,

Dr. Nietzsche continued, after a brief, strained silence:

I will have to leave the matter up to you. It

s up to you to convince yourself that I am not in a position to act contrary to an order even when my
personal
opinion runs
contrary
to
it
. Or if I have individual
scientific
reasons to disobey.

And so Doctor Nietzsche was now breathing rapidly and sounded asthmatic:


From the highest level
,

he said as if he were speaking the first lines of
Genesis
.

From the highest level we have received orders for all traces of our experiments, including the collecting of Jewish skulls and skeletons, to be destroyed. Not yet, of course, but as soon as it proves necessary

; he was gaining momentum:

Well, so now I too am delivered into your hands . . . Do you know what they call what I just told you?

Treason!

His pathetic whisper continued:

Betrayal of military secrets at the highest level . . . As you can see, we

re not talking here about adherence or non-adherence to professional ethical principles but about military,
wartime
accountability
. I am telling you this only because I want once more to underscore the delicacy of the situation and the untenability of my own individual initiative . . .

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