Rosa

along the way for the train out of Frankfurt, but at least they would be back in Berlin by tonight. Hoffner now had seven hours to acquaint himself with the men of the Thule Society and Joachim Manstein.

Notes on meetings, December 4, 1918, through January 18, 1919, Thule Society, as recorded by Kriminal-Bezirkssekretr Stefan Meier:December 4: Our first meeting outside the beer hall. We meet at the house of Anton Drexler, a locksmith in the employ of the railroad shops. Drexler is a small, sickly man who talks for over an hour about the “mongrelization” of the German people and the corruption of the socialist regime. He refers to members of the government as “the Jew Eisner and the Jew Scheidemann.” There are nine of us. I believe we are only one of several cells of “Initiates” meeting throughout the city tonight. Unlike Eckart, Drexler is a poor speaker. We are instructed to bring documented proof of our Aryan ancestry to the next meeting.December 9: Again we meet at the house of Drexler. Only four of us are permitted to remain once our papers are examined. Two other members of the Society are present but we are not told their names. One of them is a doctor. He takes a sample of blood from each of us. We are then given copies of two books written by Guido von List (The Invincible and The Secret of Runes), magazines published by Jorg Lanz von Liebenfels (Prana and Ostara), a directory of pan-German and anti-Semitic groups by Philipp Stauff (The German Defense Book), and the manifesto of the Armanist Religious Revival from the organization known as The Walvater Teutonic Order of the Holy Grail, written by Hermann Pohl. An excerpt from Liebenfel’s Ostara I, #69, makes clear the general thinking behind all of these writings: “The holy grail is an electrical symbol pertaining to the panpsychic powers of the pure-blooded Aryan race. The quest of the Templars for the grail was a metaphor for the strict eugenic practices of the Templar Knights designed to breed god-men.”December 13, 18, 24, 29: We meet at the house of the journalist Karl Harrer (founder of the Workers Political Circle and chairman of the German Workers Party [see below]). He is no better a speaker than Drexler and, over the four nights, takes us through the history of the Society (see below), the rituals of Rebirth and Order (see below), the Covenant of the pan-Germanic people (see below), and the hierarchy of the races (see below). We are each required to recite long passages from The Invincible and to exhibit physical stamina and strength by withstanding long periods of heavy objects being placed on our chests.January 5: We are taken to a house on the outskirts of the city, where we are given our first initiation rites. This includes full disrobement, the cutting of two Runic symbols into the underside of the left upper arm, and the laying on of hands by a man we are instructed to call Tarnhari. We are told that he is the reincarnation of the god-chieftain of the Wlsungen tribe of prehistoric Germany. We are now required to recite from memory passages from The Invincible and to pledge a vow to our racial purity.January 9, 14, 15: The rituals continue at the house of Rudolf Freiherr von Seboottendorf, where we are joined by seven other Initiates from around the city. Seboottendorf is a mystic trained in the art of Sufi meditation. Over the three nights, he leads us in sance-like rituals meant to contact the Ancients from the lost island civilization of Thule. Seboottendorf is the only one of us to make contact.January 18: We are brought to the lodge on Seitz Strasse and introduced to the members of the Thule Society. There are, by rough estimation, seventy men present. I am able to learn twenty or so of the names (see below).

Lina was still asleep when Hoffner turned to the final page. It was written in a different hand and detailed Detective Sergeant Meier’s apparent suicide on the twenty-fourth of January: he had hanged himself in his one- room flat. There was no evidence at present to contradict the coroner’s findings. Clearly, Barens was not convinced.

Disturbing as Meier’s death was, Hoffner was far more interested in the seventeenth name on the list. Reading through the paragraph was like watching the shattering of a glass in reverse, every shard swept up into perfect coherence:

Joachim Manstein, born 1882, Munich, degree in medicine, University of Berlin, 1905, married Elena Marr Schumpert 1907, two children, Magda 1908 and Tmas 1910. . Doctor of Neurology and Psychiatric Medicine at Prince-Charles-Theodore Hospital, Lecturer in same at Ludwig Maximilian University. . Served in 5th Cavalry 1915– 1918 as frontline surgeon, received the Knight’s Cross of the Military Order of Maximilian-Joseph, and the Order of Merit. The “Blue Max,” usually reserved for Prussian officers, was awarded. . Signature member, along with Philipp Stauff and Guido von List, of the High Armanen-Order (1911). . Published articles include “Refutation of Judeo- Psychritic Origins” Prana, 1912), “The Pathology of the Mob-races” (Ostara, 1913), and “The Specter of Judeo-Marxism” (Iron Hammer, 1916). .

The thirty-seven-year-old Manstein had been on the front lines and had had access to large quantities of Ascomycete 4; his medical background made him the perfect candidate to seek out Wouters and to orchestrate his removal from Sint-Walburga. He might even have had a relationship with the asylum prior to the war: Hoffner made a note to check in with van Acker. More than that, the articles made Manstein a devoted Thulian; and, most important, his wife’s maiden name tied him to the directors of Ganz-Neurath: Hoffner was guessing she was Herr Director Schumpert’s eldest daughter, courted during Manstein’s university days. Hoffner had sent out wires to the registrars of the Munich universities; he had never thought to look in Berlin.

And yet the why remained unclear. Hoffner had all the players in line, but he was no closer to understanding what had prompted them to unleash Wouters on Berlin, or what they hoped to gain by keeping Rosa in the wings. Eisner’s assassination made far more sense.

The train took a sudden jolt, and Lina opened her eyes. She had been asleep for the last two hours. For a moment she seemed unsure where she was.

“Another twenty minutes,” said Hoffner. She stared vacantly at him and then peered out the window as the first lights of Berlin began to appear. She placed her head on his shoulder and went back to sleep.

The news from Munich had brought out a few units of the Guard Fusiliers Regiment, who now patrolled Berlin’s Friedrichstrasse station; the soldiers, however, were doing their best not to cause any alarm as they went about their task.

Sascha stood by one of the station kiosks. He peered down at the evening edition of the Tageblatt and read with passing interest of the day’s events:

Early reports of communist radicals storming the Bavarian Landtag building-followed by equally unreliable stories of a monarchist counterrevolution-had all finally sifted down to one Count Anton Arco-Valley, a young law student with nationalist political leanings who, according to authorities, had acted entirely on his own. Odder still were the rumors that Arco-Valley was of Jewish descent; no one knew what to make of that. Why shoot one of his own? Though rattled, the Social Democrats had reassured everyone that all was well-after all, Eisner had been planning to offer his resignation this very afternoon anyway-and had quickly installed an interim government without so much as a peep of resistance from the opposition.

Smoke and shadows, thought Sascha as he read: some lunatic finds himself a pistol and the entire country has to hold its breath for a few hours. Shame they hadn’t shot him in the process.

Sascha checked his watch for a third time. He then smoothed back his hair. He was wearing his school jacket, this time with the long pants, and had brought a small bouquet of flowers, which he held awkwardly in his hand. Kroll had been good enough to let him meet her on his own. It was meant to be a surprise. Sascha was hoping Geli would find it as marvelous as he did.

Hoffner gently nudged Lina awake. Berlin was slowing all around them, the station just the other side of the river and strangely less formidable after dark. He retrieved their bags and headed out into the corridor. She was behind him, one of her hands playfully lodged in his coat pocket: they had left last night behind them. It would find them soon enough, but Hoffner was guessing that they could manage another few weeks convincing themselves that it wouldn’t. The train pulled in, and Lina stepped down to the platform. Ups and downs were a bit tougher on his ribs, and Hoffner winced as he joined her. For whatever reason-her sense of invincibility growing by the minute, he thought-she placed her hand on his cheek and kissed him. Bags in hand, Hoffner had no choice but to submit.

Sascha moved down the platform, trying to pick her out among the stream of passengers. He felt a wonderful burning in his throat and chest, and found it almost impossible not to smile. He thought he saw her among a swarm of hats and gloves, but the girl there was not nearly pretty enough. He continued to move