“Did you tell Lothar what Hannes had said?”
“Yes. What do you mean? He knows all about Hannes.”
Ilona stared at him thoughtfully.
“Please tell me what’s going on,” he asked her.
“We don’t know exactly who Lothar is,” Ilona said. “Do you think anyone followed you here?”
“Followed me? What do you mean? Who doesn’t know who Lothar is?”
Ilona stared at him with a more serious expression than he had ever seen before, a look almost of terror. He had no idea what was going on. All he knew was that his conscience was gnawing him about Hannes, who thought he was to blame for all that had happened. But he had done nothing. Nothing at all.
“You know the system. It’s dangerous to say too much.”
“Too much! I’m not a child, I know about the surveillance.”
“Yes. Of course.”
“I didn’t say anything, except to my friends. That’s not illegal. They’re my friends. What’s going on, Ilona?”
“Are you sure no one followed you?”
“No one followed me,” he said. “What do you mean? Why should anyone follow me? What are you talking about?” Then he thought about it: “I don’t know whether anyone followed me. I wasn’t watching for that. Why should I be followed? Who would be following me?”
“I don’t know,” Ilona said. “Come on, let’s go out the back door.”
“Go where?” he said.
“Come with me,” she said.
Ilona took him by the hand and led him out through the little kitchen where the old woman was in a chair, knitting. She looked up and smiled, and they smiled back and said goodbye. They came out in a dark backyard, climbed over a fence and ended up in a narrow alleyway. He had no idea what was happening. Why was he chasing behind Ilona on a dark evening, looking over his shoulder to check whether anyone was following them?
She took detours, stopping every so often and standing still to listen for footsteps. Then she continued on, with him in pursuit. After a long trek they emerged in a new residential quarter where blocks of flats were being built on an otherwise empty site a fair distance from the city centre. Some of the buildings had no windows or doors but people had moved in to others. They went inside one of the partially occupied blocks and ran down to the basement. Ilona banged on a door. Voices could be heard on the other side: they fell silent suddenly at the knock. The door opened. About ten people were in a small flat, looking out at them in the doorway. They scrutinised him. Ilona walked in, greeted them and introduced him.
“He’s a friend of Hannes,” she said, and they looked at him and nodded.
A friend of Hannes, he thought in astonishment. How did they know Hannes? He was caught completely off his guard. A girl stepped forward, held out her hand and welcomed him.
“Do you know what happened?” she asked. “Do you know why he was expelled?”
He shook his head.
“I have no idea,” he said. He surveyed the group. “Who are you?” he asked. “How do you all know Hannes?”
“Did anyone follow you?” the girl asked Ilona.
“No,” Ilona said. “Tomas doesn’t know what’s going on and I wanted him to hear it from you.”
“We knew they were watching Hannes,” the girl said. “After he refused to work for them. They were just waiting for a chance. Waiting for the opportunity to expel him from the university.”
“What did they want him to do?”
“They call it serving the communist party and the proletariat.”
A man came over to him.
“He was always so careful,” the man said. “He made sure never to say anything that could get him into trouble.”
“Tell him about Lothar,” Ilona said. The tension had eased slightly. Some of the group sat back down. “Lothar is Tomas’s Betreuer.”
“Nobody followed you?” someone else from the group asked, casting an anxious look at Ilona.
“No one,” she said. “I told you. I made sure of that.”
“What about Lothar?” he asked, incredulous about all that he heard and saw. He looked around the little flat, at the people staring at him in fear and curiosity. He realised that he was at a cell meeting, but in reverse. This was not like when the young socialists met back in Iceland. It was not a meeting to campaign for socialism but a clandestine gathering of dissidents. These people met in secret for fear of being punished for anti-socialist behaviour.
They told him about Lothar. He had not been born in Berlin as he claimed. He was from Bonn and had been educated in Moscow, where Icelandic was one of the subjects he studied. His mission was to recruit young people at the university into the communist party. He made a particular effort with foreign students in places such as Leipzig who could conceivably be of use when they went home. It was Lothar who had tried to get Hannes to work for him. It was without doubt Lothar who had eventually played a part in his expulsion.
“Why didn’t you tell me that you knew Hannes?” he asked Ilona, perplexed.
“We don’t talk about this,” Ilona said. “Not to anyone. Hannes never mentioned it to you either, did he? Otherwise you would have leaked it all to Lothar.”
“To Lothar?” he said.
“You told him about Hannes,” Ilona said.
“I didn’t know…”
“We have to guard what we say all the time. You certainly didn’t help Hannes by talking to Lothar.”
“I didn’t know about Lothar, Ilona.”
“It needn’t be Lothar,” Ilona said. “It could be anyone. You can never tell. You never know who it is. That’s how the system works. That’s how they work.”
He stared at Ilona and knew she was right. Lothar had used him, taken advantage of his anger. What Hannes had written in his message was right. He had said something to someone that should have remained unspoken. No one had warned him. No one had talked about secrets. But he also knew in his heart that no one should have needed to tell him. He felt awful. Consumed by guilt. He was well aware how the system worked. He knew all about interactive surveillance. He had let his rage lead him astray. His naivety had helped them take Hannes.
“Hannes had stopped hanging around with the rest of us Icelanders,” he said.
“Yes,” Ilona said.
“Because he…” He did not finish the sentence.
Ilona nodded.
“What’s going on?” he asked. “What’s really going on here? Ilona?”
She glanced around the group as if waiting for a response. The man who had spoken earlier nodded to her and she revealed that they had contacted her on their own initiative. One member of the group — Ilona pointed to the girl who had greeted him with a handshake — was studying German with her at the university and wanted to know details of what was happening in Hungary, dissent against the communist party there and fear of the Soviet Union. After cautious overtures to probe her views, and once she was convinced that Ilona was in favour of the uprising in Hungary, she asked her to come and meet her companions. The group held clandestine meetings. Surveillance was being stepped up considerably and people were urged increasingly to notify the security police if they became aware of anti-socialist behaviour or attitudes. This was connected with the 1953 uprising and was to some extent a reaction to the situation in Hungary. Ilona had met Hannes at her first meeting with the young activists in Leipzig. They wanted to know about Hungary and whether similar resistance could be built up in East Germany.
“Why was Hannes in this group?” he asked. “How does he come into all this?”
“Hannes was completely brainwashed, just like you,” Ilona said. “You must have strong leadership in Iceland.” She looked towards the man who had spoken before. “Martin and Hannes are friends from engineering,” she said. “It took Martin a long time to get Hannes to understand what we were saying. But we trusted him. We had no reason not to.”