Langer hesitated a moment, then decided, why not?
He turned on his mind, letting the past sweep over him, rushing, not conscious of his words as he let the past take over and let Hitler go with him to the Mount of Golgotha. To experience the storm of that hot afternoon, the sweat running down his legs. The priests of the Sanhedrin who came to mock the man on the cross. The moment when the storm was reaching its peak and he struck with his spear into the side of the man they called Messiah. Hitler felt in his words the feel of the Roman uniform, the rubbing of the leather against sore spots, the grating of sand in the sandals, the caligula.
He experienced, in Langers words, the final moment when Jesus looked on the man who killed him and spoke, the storm around them breaking, the wind screaming. 'As you are so you shall remain until I come again.'
Hitler wept.
Langer finished, breathed deeply. He didn't like this reliving of his past, it drained him. Hitler wiped his eyes with a linen handkerchief. 'It's true, it's all true, you were there.' Taking a gulp of air. Hitler composed himself.
Breathing deeply from the emotional exhaustion that had overcome him he spoke, his voice a little stronger than before. 'Now I know all our work and sacrifices will not have been in vain. I will not have lived in vain. Everything is clear to me now. Thank you, Herr Longinus, or Langer, whichever you prefer. This moment has given me the will to do what must be done. You are free to go. But return to this place on the thirtieth of April. There will be something happening that you would not want to miss. My death.'
