“Therefore, the heat generated during the ocular targeting can be directed successfully by the Pentelic marble, pure marble,” he said.
“Alright, I get it,” she said with intrigue. “But how is the heat generated? Surely a person producing that kind of heat would be incinerated?”
“Ah!” he exclaimed. “But that is the beauty of the science and physics the Nazi’s were aware of, that the world could not embrace! You see, there is magic even in the explainable! Whoever wields the Gorgon stones becomes impervious to the heat and takes on the mythological properties of the Gorgons, to an extent.”
“Wow! That is truly a marvel of nature, Deon. Wait, how…” she frowned, trying to figure it out, but Deon was elated that someone showed such interest in the subject. “I’m so sorry if I sound stupid, but where does the heat come from? It has to come from somewhere.”
“Vril,” he said, as if he was talking about bread or peanuts.
“Vril?” she asked.
“Vril energy,” he explained. “Vril energy is reputed to be generated by the black sun, a pure and inexhaustible energy source. Come see.”
Deon took Helen’s hand and led her inside the house to a locked study. Inside, the room was filled with books and drawings, scrolls and papyrus codex. Busts of Greek gods and paintings of philosophers gave the study a Classical feel, but behind Deon’s desk hung the frightening sigil of the Order, a banner with the black circle shooting out its rays of lightning. He pulled a book from the shelf. It had no cover or name but sported Masonic symbols on the spine. Without much searching, Deon found the section he wished to show Helen.
With a patient voice, he explained, “Albert Pike was a 33rd degree Mason, a genius with an acute understanding of the importance of the occult and alchemy in this instance. Here he is quoted here, explaining the power of the Vril Force.”
She read where his finger pointed.
There is in nature one most potent force, by means of which a single man, who could possess himself of it, and should know how to direct it, could revolutionize and change the face of the world.
Helen looked up at Deon.
“That is the power that runs through the wielder of the stone,” he affirmed. “It is a pure and ancient surge of immeasurable power, possessing the holder of the relic, coming out through the eyes to be directed by the stone onto the victim. But to own all three stones will enable the keeper to produce Vril energy at will, in mind and spirit, you see?”
Helen nodded zealously and smiled. “I have heard of Vril so many times, solely because of the name of Hitler’s secret organizations. Never could I dream that it was capable of superseding all energy we know.”
“In mythology Athena, goddess of wisdom gives Medusa the power to turn men to stone. In other words the ultimate power of knowledge bestowed upon a mortal woman the ability to wield Vril energy… and they call her monster,” he lamented. “Just as people like Purdue and his colleagues call us monsters in the present day.”
Deon was pleased. He had conveyed to Professor Barry not only justification for the measures employed by his people to obtain the stones but also impressed upon her something to consider, to understand in general. From now on, she would know that all matters were relative to the benchmark used for comparisons.
Chapter 33
Fortunately for Nina, Donovan and Costa, the rain persisted in Poland. They had spent a few hours scrutinizing the architectural plans of the historical site of Auschwitz Concentration Camp. As it was now a memorial site and museum, there was no way in which they would ever have been granted permits to investigate Block 11 for a mythological relic. They had to resort to illegal procedures once more to save lives.
Now and then the clouds would empty over the town, concealing any sound and most movement the three made as they gained access through a hidden tunnel pin-pointed on the blueprint. Supposedly, the tunnel was once a drainage chute that ran from the torture rooms of Block 11 to dispose of body waste after interrogations. And there was no doubt about that by the smell of the place.
“Jesus! I never thought I would hold my breath this long without being drowned by a fat lass sitting on my shoulders at a pool party,” Don grunted as they crawled through the filthy cement pipe. It was narrow enough to hug a big man like Don just short of a claustrophobic fit, but he soldiered on behind Nina and Costa. They wore black overalls, unfortunately, made of fabric, since waterproof protective clothing rustled with movement.
“There, ahead, to the left, Nina,” Costa whispered as they came to the last bend in the subsystem under Block 11.
“Thank God for that!” Don whined. “This, people, is why we mercifully do not remember our births.”
Nina giggled up front, just before she used the pen-sized laser Purdue gave her to cut through any obstacles in their way. The device made no sound and reflective minimal light. Her rubber gloves gripped the drain cover tightly while the beam melted the old iron to sever it from the bolts in the cement. When she was done, they crept through into a dark corridor between Room 4 and one of the gas chambers.
“My overactive imagination is telling my lungs that there is Zyklon-B everywhere in the atmosphere,” Nina whispered.
“Me too,” Costa said. “Only in my case, it feels like I cannot breathe like something heavy is on my chest.”
“I bet if we did not know where we were none of that would have occurred,” Nina smiled. “It is all psychosomatic.”
“I’m just unsettled by the paranormal aspect, myself,” Don chipped in, his eyes reluctant to look too far into the dark green corridor through his night vision goggles.
Nina slapped him playfully. “Okay, guys, we have to get to the main gas room, from there, Don check if there are any discrepancies in the construction of the room.”
“What do you use that instrument again?” Costa asked again in amusement.
Proudly, Don obliged by saying the suggestive name in a German accent for the umpteenth time.
“Zis is my penetrator.”
“Oh God,” Nina rolled her eyes. “Grow up, you two.”
She wanted to smile, but not only were they pressed for time, but they were in a building where atrocious things had been inflicted on innocent people and jesting about a ground-penetrating radar instrument was just disrespectful. “Come on. Prof. Barry and her assistant’s lives are in our hands. Let’s not fail them.”
They proceeded in the pitch dark toward the location of the main gas chamber. Behind them in the dark, they heard a scuffling.
“Did you hear that?” Nina whispered, grabbing onto Costa’s arm. “Like boots on gravel.”
“I am not happy about this,” Don said under his breath. “Listen, you guys go ahead so long. Whatever it is, I’ll hold it off. Just hurry so we can get out of here.”
“But we need you to use the radar device inside…” Nina started, but she instantly kept quiet when two pairs of footsteps approached them.
“Fuck this, I’m moving on,” she whispered in panic. Don and Costa stood listening a second longer, hearing the phantom footsteps of heavy soldiers’ boots coming toward them. But they could see nothing on their night vision. The walking cadence hastened, gradually until they could hear the boots fall heavier and faster, clearly running towards them.
“Oh my God! Run!” Costa rasped. They took off, bolting in terror. Both raced in the opposite direction from the approaching soldiers, catching up to Nina, who had just reached the gas chamber they had been looking for.
“Jesus Christ! Hurry, get inside!” Don cried out loud. His voice echoed along the hallway as all three of them stumbled into the large sinister room with its grotesque atmosphere and froze with their backs up against the wall. Dead quiet, they waited against the barren grey walls where the scratches of the dying told their final story.