Two Hawks was not so sure. He suspected that something unusual was happening. The following day, he and Kwasind were taken to a building and into an office. Ilmika Thorrsstein, an Itskapintik officer, and a Perkunishan official were also there. The latter was splendid in a scarlet- and-white uniform, many medals, and huge gold epaulets. Ilmika looked much better. She had bathed, her hair was in a Psyche knot, and she was wearing a lady’s jacket and long skirt. However, she seemed withdrawn. The Perkunishan had to repeat questions several times before she would respond.
Two Hawks caught on quickly. The very efficient espionage system of Perkunisha had learned about the capture of Ilmika shortly after it had taken place. It’s government had immediately “requested” that Ilmika, Two Hawks, and Kwasind be turned over to it. The Itskapintik government may have wondered what was behind the “request”, but it had no way of finding out. If it had suspected the truth about Two Hawks, it probably would have denied having him.
It was not until later that Two Hawks found out why Ilmika and Kwasind were also wanted by Perkunisha. Ilmika was a grandniece of its ruler, the Kassandras. She was the daughter of his niece, who had married a younger brother of the king of Blodland. After the king’s brother died, the Kassandras’ niece had married Lord Thorrsstein, himself a cousin of the king. Ilmika was born of this marriage. The Kassandras did not want his grandniece to fall into the barbarous hands of the Itskapintik.
As for Kwasind, he had been mistaken for O’Brien. That error would soon be detected, but it would last long enough for him to be taken to Berlin with the other two. The Blodlandish were never heard of again. Two Hawks supposed that they were swallowed up in the maw of a labor camp.
Before the three boarded the train that was to take them to Berlin, they witnessed the execution of the chief and his four policemen. These were marched into a courtyard in which were a number of pillars with a projecting horizontal beam on top of each. The police were naked, and their skins were covered with bruises and whipcuts. Their hands were bound behind their backs. The executioners looped the ends of thick wires tightly around one ankle of each of the prisoners. Then they turned cranks which wound the wires around a drum. The prisoners were lifted to a height of six feet by the wires tied around their ankles.
The police were courageous. Two Hawks had to give them credit for that. Two even spat at the executioners. But bravery soon dissolved before the pain of stretching skin. They hung screaming and writhing, the skin lengthening slowly from their weight, until they fainted. Cold water over their naked bodies revived them; they began screaming again. One man fell when his violent contortions caused his ankle to be severed. He was picked up, the wire rewound around his calf, and he was hauled up into the air again.
Two Hawks did not feel sorry for them. They were getting what they deserved. Nevertheless, he felt sick, and he was glad when Ilmika said that she was satisfied that justice was being done. They left the building but had to go a long way before they ceased to hear the screams.
Two Hawks did not think he was going to like what lay ahead of him in Berlin, yet he felt relieved when they crossed the Itskapintik border. Not until then did the uneasiness in his mind go away.
The car in which they rode was, in many ways, luxurious. Two Hawks and Kwasind had a compartment for themselves. The food was excellent, and they could drink as much beer, wine, or whiskey as they wished. They could even take a bath. Nevertheless, there were iron bars over every window, and armed guards stood on both sides of the doors at each end of the car. The officer in charge, a Khiliarkhos (captain) Wilkis, was never far away. He took his meals with the two men and helped Two Hawks with his lessons in Perkunishan.
Ilmika stayed in her compartment. The few times she came out, she seemed constrained. He supposed that it was because he had witnessed her disgrace. Not only did she feel embarrassment that he had seen her suffering an outrage, she probably felt contempt because he had not tried to defend her. In her code, any gentleman would have died rather than permit a noblewoman to be dishonored. Two Hawks did not try to defend himself. She had seen what had happened to O’Brien. Moreover, her own people, Herot and the others, had not fought for her. They had chosen the realistic path—and wisely, he thought. What did she think of them?
Ilmika said nothing about this. She answered Two Hawks’ greetings with a cold nod. He shrugged and sometimes smiled. What did he care? He had been attracted to her, but they were abysses apart. He was neither Blodlandish nor noble. Even if she were in love with him—and she had not given the slightest sign she was—she would have to forget about him.
Two Hawks occupied himself in learning the language and also studying the country he saw through the car windows. Its topography, he supposed, would be much like that of Poland and Germany of Earth 1. The dwellings were not too different in structure, although there was a tendency to decorate with what he called “curlicue” architecture. The peasants were dressed simply, were shaggy-haired and not too clean. The absence of horses gave him a strange feeling. There was no plowing at this time, but Wilkis told him that oxen were used, although the beasts were being replaced by steam or gas tractors on the big estates. Wilkis boasted that his country had more farm tractors than any other nation in the world.
At the city of Gervvoge, another officer joined them. Vyautas wore an all-black uniform with silver epaulets and a silver boar’s head on his tall red shako. His face was gaunt and thin-lipped, yet he turned out to be affable and quickwitted. He was liable to pun at the slightest or no excuse. Two Hawks was not deceived. Vyautas was there for preliminary questioning of the two prisoners.
Two Hawks had decided he might as well tell everything. If he refused to cooperate, he would end up by spilling his guts anyway, and be in very bad health in the bargain. Besides, he had no definite loyalties to any country of this world. Fate had originally thrown him in with the Blodlandish and Hotinohsonih, yet the latter had tortured him and then locked him up and the former had betrayed their own allies to get their hands on him. There did not seem to be much difference between the practices of Perkunisha and Blodland. Yet he did not feel right in becoming an ally of a German. Working for the same nation with which the German flier was working was, in some undefinable way, betraying his own country, his own world.
But—here there was no United States of America, just as there was no Germany.
After a half-hour of interrogation by Vyautas, Two Hawks understood the reasons for the type of questions. Vyautas was checking the answers against those in a large bound volume of typewritten sheets. The book undoubtedly contained information given by the German.
Two Hawks said, “How do you know that the fellow—what-ever his name is—has given you a true story?”
Vyautas was startled. Then he smiled and said, “So you know about him? The Blodlandish told you? His name, by the way, is Horst Raske.”
“And what do you think of our tales?”
“There’s enough evidence to convince those who matter. To me, though, there are very puzzling aspects. Let’s say that there is a universe occupying the same ‘space’ as ours but not intersecting. I can understand why the same type of animals, including human beings, might develop on both planets. After all, the size and distance of the Earths from the sun are identical, and the geophysical factors are similar.
“But I cannot understand why almost identical languages are found on both worlds. Do you realize how mathematically improbable such a coincidence is? About several billion billions to one, I would say. Yet, I am asked to believe that not one, but many languages, have their near- counterparts on your Earth.”