Juliana and John
Jan. 2nd, 2017 08:01 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
scripsiTitle: Juliana and John
Fandom: The Man in the High Castle
Rating: Teen and up
Genre: AU- canon divergence
Word Count: 4382
Characters: John Smith, Juliana Crain
Warnings: Implied/referenced torture, non-explicit (and very brief) violence
Summary: After being forced to flee to the Greater Nazi Reich, Juliana is captured and brought to New York. There, in the cell next to her’s, is a man called John.
AN: My second Yuletide treat. This story takes place after season 1, but before season 2 was aired, so obviously this takes another path than what really happened. I still think I managed to get their personalities right in ways the second season explores.
When you want to fool the world, tell the truth.
Juliana had known going to the Greater Nazi Reich was a bad idea. But circumstances, unexpected and uncontrollable had made this the only available solution. It proved to be a mistake very quickly when her hiding place was suddenly swarmed with men in uniforms, and she was arrested. After a day in a cell, Juliana was bundled into a prison van with no explanations. She quickly lost track of the days. Each evening she slept in a new cell, looking almost the same as the one from the previous night. Each morning she was brought back to the van, always in underground garages which told her nothing of the location. To her surprise, no one seemed much interested in her. She had expected interrogations, but there had only been a few routine questions, and no one seemed bothered over her refusal to answer. At the moment she was just an item to be transported.
At the end of yet another long ride, Juliana stepped out into a new garage which looked like the one she had left in the morning. But this time a guard took her jacket and shoes before she was brought into a cell. There was a sense of finality to it, which made her think she had arrived to her destination. The cell was one in a long row of small cells, only separated from each other by iron bars, though at the moment she seemed to be the only prisoner there. She felt a vague relief over being alone, these cells had no privacy and no comfort, save a wooden bunk bed with a thin blanket and a covered bucket.
Juliana sat down on the bunk bed. The cell was chilly and too bright, everything bathed in cold electric light. It also smelled, strongly of disinfectant and a faint, but unmistakable, reek of human waste. A sudden sound made her look sharply to her right, and she realised she wasn’t alone. Someone was curled up on the bed in the cell next to her, wrapped in a blanket.
“Hello?” she said tentatively, and the person turned and looked at her. It was a man in his forties with dark hair and a tired, unshaven face. Handsome, despite his dishevelled appearance. He had the most amazing hazel eyes Juliana had ever seen, penetrating and intelligent, despite his obvious exhaustion.
“Excuse me, but can you tell me where I am?”
The man sat up. “This is Rikers Island prison in New York.”
When he saw her blank stare, he smiled somewhat crookedly.
“You can’t be from around here if you don’t know about Rikers Island. Trust me, this is the worst place you could be in. This is where they keep people they aren’t done with yet.”
“Have you been here long?”
“Too long, but probably not more than a few days. You can’t tell time here; the lights never go out.”
He wrapped his blanket tighter around himself and stood up.
“And they keep it cold on purpose too. They’ll feed you, but not nearly enough. It wouldn’t do if you felt rested and refreshed when they come to ask you questions.”
“You know a lot about this place.”
“All too much.” There was a distinct tinge of bitterness in his voice when he continued. “It doesn’t help much now when I’m on the wrong side of the bars."
He moved closer to the bars which separated them. “My name is John.”
“I- I don’t think I should tell you mine. I suppose they are listening to us?”
“Oh yes.”
“I see.”
John looked at her thoughtfully.
“I don’t think you do, not properly. Your natural reaction is to keep your secrets, and I commend that. You look like a good person, but you have got yourself into deep water. Here they don’t stop until they get all the answers they want. By any means necessary.”
Before Juliana could answer the guards interrupted. John tensed, but it was not his door they unlocked. When they took her out of the cell he gave her a small, friendly wave of his hand and the tiny gesture unexpectedly felt like a gift.
They took her to a bare room, the furniture only a table and two chairs. An officer sat down opposite her while the two guards remained standing behind her, menacing shadows in the corner of her eye. Then the questioning started. What was her name? Where did she come from? What was her intentions? Who did she work for? The same questions, over and over again, sometimes with the wording changed, but with the same meaning. And for hours Juliana answered with a false name and a made up story, which she stubbornly refused to elaborate.
When she was brought back to her cell she was hungry and exhausted. John was not there any more. Juliana felt a twinge of anxiety at the sight of his blanket lying abandoned on the floor. She was given food, bland soup and a little bread. It was not enough to fill her up, just as John had said. Still hungry she wrapped herself in her blanket and tried to sleep. For a long time she thought it would be impossible. The cell was too bright, but she was so tired she slept a little anyway, in short, restless periods.
Juliana woke up with a start when the cell door next to hers banged open. She looked up to see John being pushed back into his cell. He fell down on his hands and knees, shivering violently. As soon as the guards had left, she knelt down on the floor, as close to him as she could get. When she saw his face, she drew her breath sharply. His lower lip was split and his face bruised and showing the dried remains of a heavy nosebleed. By his slow and hesitant movements the bruises must extended beyond of what she could see.
“How badly hurt are you?”
“I’ll live.” He made a gesture down his body and grimaced in pain. “It was just a beating for the fun of it, but not bad enough to risk I die too soon.”
He was shaking badly now, and Juliana thought it must be shock, in no way helped by the cool air in the prison.
“John, you need to get warm. Take your blanket and sit on it, close to me.”
He moved slowly, sitting down heavily and slumped against the bars. They had enough space between them to allow her arms to pass through and with his help she managed to wrap her own blanket around him. Then she wrapped her arms around him as well as she could. It was uncomfortable to sit on the concrete floor, and her body soon started to ache from being angled awkwardly. But their shared body heat warmed them both, and gradually the worst of John’s shivers subsided.
“Thank you. You are a kind woman.”
“I suppose it’s not much help.”
“More than you know. I’m glad I’m not alone.”
“Me too.”
Juliana wondered what he had done to have ended up like this, but didn’t want to ask. His situation seemed bleaker than hers, and it would be cruel to make him dwell on it more than he undoubtedly already did. After a brief silence John spoke again.
“It’s easy to have regrets- and I have many, but do you know what I think of the most? Not the big actions, but those things I always thought I would do one day. The things I always pushed aside for what I thought were more important tasks. Like taking my children sailing. I gave up on it when they were still small, but I used to take every moment I could to sail. It’s a very special feeling.”
“I never tried, despite living by the ocean all my life. And yes, it’s the small things I think about too.”
“What would you do now, if you could?”
“I would do something ordinary,” Juliana said slowly. “Go to my dojo. Visit my mother and listen to her complain over everything and not be annoyed by it. Stay home with- with someone I care about, and just enjoy being there.”
“Family is important. You are right to treasure them because one day they may be gone forever.”
Juliana thought of Trudy and her breath caught. “I know what you mean. My sister died recently, and it was very sudden. There are so many things I wish I could say to her now.”
“I had a brother.” John paused, then continued hesitantly. “An older brother. He was my best friend and I admired him more than anyone else.”
“Did he die suddenly too?”
“He had a chronic illness. The kind you don’t survive when you live in the Reich.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It was a long time ago. But I guess I wouldn’t be here today it wasn’t for him.”
“My father died years ago too. It still hurts.”
“Yes, it’s a wound which never really closes, does it?”
“No, I don’t think so.”
John shifted a little, turning his head to look at her..
“Odd, I rarely talk about him, not even with my family. And now I tell you, whom I’ve never met before.”
“Perhaps that is why.”
“Perhaps. Talk some more. Nothing important, just talk to me. You have a lovely voice to just listen to.”
So Juliana told him about being a small child, playing with her sister. Of her father and the day the telegram had come with the news of his death. She told him more of her dojo and how it made her feel doing her aikido practices. John spoke, too, telling her more of his brother and children. It was strangely comforting to talk with him, sharing her memories with another human being. A measure of sympathy between strangers, like a small fire to warm her soul a little.
Then the guards came to take John away, leaving Juliana alone in the endless light. She tried to sleep again, feeling she needed to take every moment she could to rest and recuperate. But she only dozed fitfully, every little sound scaring her awake with a pounding heart. When the guards returned for her, she felt as tired as if she hadn’t slept at all.
Back in the interrogation room the same procedure took place as before. The same questions, on an endless repeat. After what felt like hours, the man who had questioned her was replaced by a new, fresh-faced officer, and the questions started all over again. Juliana started to fall asleep, just a few seconds before she jerked herself awake. Then, when she stopped waking herself up, she was brusquely prodded in the back by one of the guards. It occurred to her it could be worth answering the questions if it meant she could sleep after. Eat and drink, too, but most of all to close her eyes undisturbed.
When her interrogator was replaced again, she didn’t even look up at the new man who seated himself in front of her. She was gazing at her hands, fighting the urge to doze away again. But when he spoke, she looked up, suddenly feeling wide awake. His voice was familiar, she had heard it very recently, but her tired brain took its time to comprehend what she saw.
This officer was higher ranked than her previous interrogators. His uniform was black, painfully neat and well-pressed, with rows of medals. A middle-aged man with dark hair, whose clean-shaven face was marred by a split lip and bruises. And those beautiful hazel eyes, alert now, and looking at her in cold calculation.
“I am Obergruppenführer John Smith. I have a few questions for you.”
A sense of betrayal fought with the realisation over how stupid she had been. Too trusting because it had been so nice to feel she wasn’t completely alone.
“You tricked me!”
“Yes, I did. It was not particularly difficult, but don’t be too hard on yourself. All in all, I told you very few lies. Most of what you saw and heard down there was valid information. You might have been able to spot falsehood, but the truth, fools most people.”
“You told me to not say anything important! And I didn’t.”
He smiled slightly.
“But you did. You are a very naive young woman if you think hard facts are the only useful kind of information. I wanted to get to know you, and with little prodding you provided me with all sorts of details about yourself. Details I would never have got in this room. It was well worth a few hours of personal discomfort.”
He opened one of his folders and looked down on its content.
“In fact, I know almost everything I need to know about you now. Your name is Juliana Crain, your sister name was Trudy. Your mother’s name is Anne and she re-married Arnold Walker. For the past few years you have been living with a Frank Frink, a man who is part Semite. And I know about the movies. You have stumbled into something much bigger and more complicated than you can ever imagine, and you are drowning.”
He turned the folder over so Juliana could see what he had been looking at. It was a shock to see her own face, looking up and away, seemingly lost in thought. A moment caught on paper in a bar; the drawing Frank had made. The one she had lost in Canon City and never thought she would see again.
“It’s a remarkable portrait,” John Smith said. “I didn’t understand quite how much until I met you. Now I can see it has captured you well. Your boyfriend is a talented artist.”
“Even if he is part-Jew?”
She meant to rankle him, but he didn’t take the bait.
“We have all met a talented Semite. Or one we perceive as a good one. What you fail to understand is that it’s not about the individual, but what is the greater good for society.”
He retrieved the drawing, closed the folder and put it away.
“I am not your enemy, Juliana. On the contrary; I can be your friend and your salvation. You only have to tell me where Joe Blake is.”
“I don't know.”
“Yes, you do. You misguidedly think you shouldn’t tell me, but I would say you know exactly where he is.”
“No. I have no idea, I promise.”
John Smith sighed and leaned back in his chair.
“I believe a woman’s place in society is to be revered. She has the most important role to play, she is, literally, the mother of our future. A man who doesn’t respect women is a despicable creature. But I will do whatever it takes to get what I want. And perhaps part of the problem here is that you can’t understand what you haven’t endured.”
He nodded to the guards behind her, and Juliana knew what was coming even before the first blow hit her. It felt like the beating lasted for a long time, but it must have been over in a matter of minutes, if not seconds. Then she was lifted back into the chair and given a moment to find her breathing before John Smith spoke again.
“I know this wasn't pleasant. But you are not badly hurt and you will have no more ill effect than a few bruises. This was only a taste of things to come if you continue to be stubborn. So. Where is Joe Blake?”
It was harder to find the words this time. Juliana took a deep breath, cut short by a stabbing pain in her ribs and she wondered if they were cracked.
“I don’t know where Joe is.”
She looked up to gauge John Smith’s reaction and found he didn’t seem surprised over her answer.
“I think we will stop for the day. You are tired and scared and I would like to talk to you when you can think with a clear mind. Let’s see what a night’s good sleep will do.”
A guard suddenly grabbed her arm, her sleeve was yanked up and before she could react, a syringe jabbed into her arm and emptied. Panic made her struggle for a few seconds, then everything went black around her.
When she woke up, she was in a bed. A comfortable bed with crisp white sheet and a soft, warm eiderdown comforter. Juliana lay very still, wondering where she was. This was not a prison cell, it was a proper bedroom. Simply but comfortably furnished, and the sun was streaming through a large window. For a moment she wondered if she was dreaming, but when she moved the twinges and aches in her body told her she was awake.
The door opened and John Smith came into the room, carrying a small pill bottle and a glass of water. He sat down at the side of the bed, shook out two white pills and offered them to her. Juliana sat up, clutching the comforter against her.
“It’s only aspirin. I figure you need them right now.”
Juliana shook her head, and he shrugged and popped the pills into his own mouth instead.
“I know I do.”
For a moment she hesitated, then she accepted the offered bottle and took two pills herself. The water was cold, and she gulped down the whole glass.
“Where am I?”
“In my rooms in the city. I sometimes work late and it’s easier to sleep here instead of going home.”
Juliana eyes him with growing suspicion.
“Why am I here?”
“I have a proposition for you.”
Juliana involuntarily moved away from him and clutched the comforter harder. She had half expected rape ever since she had been captured, but so far nothing of that sort had happened. John Smith laughed. A genuine laugh which crinkled the skin around his eyes, filling them with warmth. For a brief moment she could see a man who women could be very drawn to. A man she could have been interested in, under other circumstances.
“You are a very attractive young woman, but I’m a family man, and I love my wife deeply. It’s nothing improper, I promise you, however tempting it may be. No, we will merely have a little talk. But not until you have had a bath and a proper breakfast.”
He stood up.
“You will find everything you need in the bathroom.”
At first Juliana couldn’t stop glancing at the bathroom door. Despite his assurances she was prepared to see it burst open at any moment. But when it remained resolutely closed, she relaxed. Her last bath had been many days ago, and it was a wonderful feeling to be clean again. There were some ugly bruises on her arms and legs, but the hot water and the aspirin eased away the worst of the pain. When she was dry and her hair combed, if still damp, Juliana looked at her clothes. Her ordeal had turned them into stinking rags, and the thought of wearing them again disgusting. There was a neatly folded silk robe on a footstool and a pair of slippers in her size underneath. They were clearly meant for her, and though she loathed to accept it, in the end her reluctance to get dressed in her filthy clothes won out.
The bedroom was empty, but the door was open and she went through into a pleasant room which seemed to double as living room and office. On the walls she could see photos of a beautiful blond woman and three smiling children, the family he had mentioned earlier. John Smith himself was seated at a table, laden with the promised breakfast. He rose to let her get seated before he sat down again.
“Coffe? Or perhaps you prefer tea?”
“Coffee please.”
The food was delicious. The coffee was fresh and strong, with real milk, not substitute to merely water the it down. There were bread rolls, still warm from the oven and butter, cheese and marmalade. Juliana ate, trying hard to restrain herself when the only thing she wanted was to devour the food as fast as possible. John Smith poured himself a cup of coffee and let her eat undisturbed in an oddly companionable silence.
When she had finished eating, he put his cup down.
“Miss Crain. Juliana. In the eyes of the Greater Nazi Reich you are a traitor. Your misguided actions have come with a cost, for everyone involved. But I I want you to understand that on a purely personal level, I admire you. You are intelligent, resourceful and possess a great deal of courage. I would like to give you a chance.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You have to admit your adventures makes a good tale. I usually leave public relations to more capable hands, but I’m not blind to its possibilities. With a few adjustments, your story could be told to benefit both you and this country. A lovely young woman chafing under the cruel tyranny of the degenerate Japanese. Then we have the brave agent working undercover for the true cause, and they fall in love. Under much peril they are separated, but in the end they will be reunited. The public always enjoys a good love story.”
“This is ridiculous!”
“For you and me, yes, but not for the common people. They need heroes and heroines to look up to and be inspired by. You beauty and bravery would be admired, you would be a role model. Girls would copy your hairstyle and the way you dress. You would have a comfortable home and security. I won’t lie, you wouldn’t be completely trusted and would be monitored closely, but it would have little impact on your daily life. And not only for you. It would be quite easy to extract your mother and stepfather from the Pacific States, and they would be well provided for as well.“
“All this for the whereabouts of one man?”
“Joe is more important than you know. And you don’t have to worry for him. I’m not wanting him back to punish him. He has the potential for greatness and I don’t want to see it squandered for a lost cause. If Joe returns to the fold now, nothing is lost.”
“I don’t believe you. You are trying to trick me into betraying him, and then I’m dead.”
“I can see why you would think so. Unfortunately I can’t prove it to you.”
“You’ll never trust Joe again, even if you find him. How could you, now when he has started to doubt your propaganda?”
“You think I fear doubt? Not at all, even if it is not for everyone. The common workers are better off being happy with their lot. Blind devotion has it’s place. But for the thinking man, for anyone intelligent enough to belong to those who rule, doubt must come at some point. The other side has its allure, and you must be able to feel empathy for your enemy if you are to understand them. It’s dangerous, a door may open for corruption and disaster, but it’s necessary. A man who had doubted and decided to follow the right road, that man’s convictions are strong and unbreakable.”
“So you say you had doubts once?”
“Of course.”
He offered her a cigarette before taking one himself.
“Think about it for a little while. I like you and I see your potential too. I would much rather present you to my wife than have you shot.”
They both smoked in silence. John drank more coffee and looked out at the view of the city. He seemed relaxed, content on waiting for her answer with patience. A man who had doubted and decided which path which was the right one.
Juliana closed her eyes. The last days of constant fear and surprises made her feel like she had been tossed around in a blanket, only to be find herself in free fall. John’s proposal was ludicrous, but it was also tempting. She could tell everything of what little she knew, and it would all be over. Even if the most likely result was a death sentence. But if he wasn’t lying, then she could buy security, not only for herself, but for her family too. They would be safe.
To clear her mind she shook her head and opened her eyes again. John’s words had wormed their way into her thoughts, influencing them when she shouldn't give them any credence at all. They offered a happy ending only for the select few. And they presumed a lot more about her than she was prepared to accept. Like her feelings for Joe, which surely couldn’t be called love, when she didn’t know what to call them herself. Juliana gave John a quick glance. What had his doubts been? Then she realised she already knew. It must be his brother, the love and grief had not been faked. And then she knew why she found it so easy to be pulled in by his words. She wasn’t tempted with lies, but the truth. He had been honest when he said he wanted to be able to let her go. The connection she had felt with him in the cells had been real, and now he was using it.
She put down her cigarette- it has mostly smoked itself, anyway.
“Have you seen one of those movies, John?”
“No.”
“I have. And so has Joe. It changes you forever. You can promise what you will, but the thing is; I don’t doubt. I have hope instead. And I have nothing to tell you.”
John nodded, stubbed out his cigarette and stood up.
“For what it’s worth, Miss Crain, I’m truly sorry for what will happen now.”
He left the room, leaving Juliana alone to stare at the open doorway. The terror she had tried to suppress, rearing itself inside her. She had time to think, before the guards came to take her away, that he had been sincere in his apology too. And it wouldn’t help her at all.
Fandom: The Man in the High Castle
Rating: Teen and up
Genre: AU- canon divergence
Word Count: 4382
Characters: John Smith, Juliana Crain
Warnings: Implied/referenced torture, non-explicit (and very brief) violence
Summary: After being forced to flee to the Greater Nazi Reich, Juliana is captured and brought to New York. There, in the cell next to her’s, is a man called John.
AN: My second Yuletide treat. This story takes place after season 1, but before season 2 was aired, so obviously this takes another path than what really happened. I still think I managed to get their personalities right in ways the second season explores.
When you want to fool the world, tell the truth.
Juliana had known going to the Greater Nazi Reich was a bad idea. But circumstances, unexpected and uncontrollable had made this the only available solution. It proved to be a mistake very quickly when her hiding place was suddenly swarmed with men in uniforms, and she was arrested. After a day in a cell, Juliana was bundled into a prison van with no explanations. She quickly lost track of the days. Each evening she slept in a new cell, looking almost the same as the one from the previous night. Each morning she was brought back to the van, always in underground garages which told her nothing of the location. To her surprise, no one seemed much interested in her. She had expected interrogations, but there had only been a few routine questions, and no one seemed bothered over her refusal to answer. At the moment she was just an item to be transported.
At the end of yet another long ride, Juliana stepped out into a new garage which looked like the one she had left in the morning. But this time a guard took her jacket and shoes before she was brought into a cell. There was a sense of finality to it, which made her think she had arrived to her destination. The cell was one in a long row of small cells, only separated from each other by iron bars, though at the moment she seemed to be the only prisoner there. She felt a vague relief over being alone, these cells had no privacy and no comfort, save a wooden bunk bed with a thin blanket and a covered bucket.
Juliana sat down on the bunk bed. The cell was chilly and too bright, everything bathed in cold electric light. It also smelled, strongly of disinfectant and a faint, but unmistakable, reek of human waste. A sudden sound made her look sharply to her right, and she realised she wasn’t alone. Someone was curled up on the bed in the cell next to her, wrapped in a blanket.
“Hello?” she said tentatively, and the person turned and looked at her. It was a man in his forties with dark hair and a tired, unshaven face. Handsome, despite his dishevelled appearance. He had the most amazing hazel eyes Juliana had ever seen, penetrating and intelligent, despite his obvious exhaustion.
“Excuse me, but can you tell me where I am?”
The man sat up. “This is Rikers Island prison in New York.”
When he saw her blank stare, he smiled somewhat crookedly.
“You can’t be from around here if you don’t know about Rikers Island. Trust me, this is the worst place you could be in. This is where they keep people they aren’t done with yet.”
“Have you been here long?”
“Too long, but probably not more than a few days. You can’t tell time here; the lights never go out.”
He wrapped his blanket tighter around himself and stood up.
“And they keep it cold on purpose too. They’ll feed you, but not nearly enough. It wouldn’t do if you felt rested and refreshed when they come to ask you questions.”
“You know a lot about this place.”
“All too much.” There was a distinct tinge of bitterness in his voice when he continued. “It doesn’t help much now when I’m on the wrong side of the bars."
He moved closer to the bars which separated them. “My name is John.”
“I- I don’t think I should tell you mine. I suppose they are listening to us?”
“Oh yes.”
“I see.”
John looked at her thoughtfully.
“I don’t think you do, not properly. Your natural reaction is to keep your secrets, and I commend that. You look like a good person, but you have got yourself into deep water. Here they don’t stop until they get all the answers they want. By any means necessary.”
Before Juliana could answer the guards interrupted. John tensed, but it was not his door they unlocked. When they took her out of the cell he gave her a small, friendly wave of his hand and the tiny gesture unexpectedly felt like a gift.
They took her to a bare room, the furniture only a table and two chairs. An officer sat down opposite her while the two guards remained standing behind her, menacing shadows in the corner of her eye. Then the questioning started. What was her name? Where did she come from? What was her intentions? Who did she work for? The same questions, over and over again, sometimes with the wording changed, but with the same meaning. And for hours Juliana answered with a false name and a made up story, which she stubbornly refused to elaborate.
When she was brought back to her cell she was hungry and exhausted. John was not there any more. Juliana felt a twinge of anxiety at the sight of his blanket lying abandoned on the floor. She was given food, bland soup and a little bread. It was not enough to fill her up, just as John had said. Still hungry she wrapped herself in her blanket and tried to sleep. For a long time she thought it would be impossible. The cell was too bright, but she was so tired she slept a little anyway, in short, restless periods.
Juliana woke up with a start when the cell door next to hers banged open. She looked up to see John being pushed back into his cell. He fell down on his hands and knees, shivering violently. As soon as the guards had left, she knelt down on the floor, as close to him as she could get. When she saw his face, she drew her breath sharply. His lower lip was split and his face bruised and showing the dried remains of a heavy nosebleed. By his slow and hesitant movements the bruises must extended beyond of what she could see.
“How badly hurt are you?”
“I’ll live.” He made a gesture down his body and grimaced in pain. “It was just a beating for the fun of it, but not bad enough to risk I die too soon.”
He was shaking badly now, and Juliana thought it must be shock, in no way helped by the cool air in the prison.
“John, you need to get warm. Take your blanket and sit on it, close to me.”
He moved slowly, sitting down heavily and slumped against the bars. They had enough space between them to allow her arms to pass through and with his help she managed to wrap her own blanket around him. Then she wrapped her arms around him as well as she could. It was uncomfortable to sit on the concrete floor, and her body soon started to ache from being angled awkwardly. But their shared body heat warmed them both, and gradually the worst of John’s shivers subsided.
“Thank you. You are a kind woman.”
“I suppose it’s not much help.”
“More than you know. I’m glad I’m not alone.”
“Me too.”
Juliana wondered what he had done to have ended up like this, but didn’t want to ask. His situation seemed bleaker than hers, and it would be cruel to make him dwell on it more than he undoubtedly already did. After a brief silence John spoke again.
“It’s easy to have regrets- and I have many, but do you know what I think of the most? Not the big actions, but those things I always thought I would do one day. The things I always pushed aside for what I thought were more important tasks. Like taking my children sailing. I gave up on it when they were still small, but I used to take every moment I could to sail. It’s a very special feeling.”
“I never tried, despite living by the ocean all my life. And yes, it’s the small things I think about too.”
“What would you do now, if you could?”
“I would do something ordinary,” Juliana said slowly. “Go to my dojo. Visit my mother and listen to her complain over everything and not be annoyed by it. Stay home with- with someone I care about, and just enjoy being there.”
“Family is important. You are right to treasure them because one day they may be gone forever.”
Juliana thought of Trudy and her breath caught. “I know what you mean. My sister died recently, and it was very sudden. There are so many things I wish I could say to her now.”
“I had a brother.” John paused, then continued hesitantly. “An older brother. He was my best friend and I admired him more than anyone else.”
“Did he die suddenly too?”
“He had a chronic illness. The kind you don’t survive when you live in the Reich.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It was a long time ago. But I guess I wouldn’t be here today it wasn’t for him.”
“My father died years ago too. It still hurts.”
“Yes, it’s a wound which never really closes, does it?”
“No, I don’t think so.”
John shifted a little, turning his head to look at her..
“Odd, I rarely talk about him, not even with my family. And now I tell you, whom I’ve never met before.”
“Perhaps that is why.”
“Perhaps. Talk some more. Nothing important, just talk to me. You have a lovely voice to just listen to.”
So Juliana told him about being a small child, playing with her sister. Of her father and the day the telegram had come with the news of his death. She told him more of her dojo and how it made her feel doing her aikido practices. John spoke, too, telling her more of his brother and children. It was strangely comforting to talk with him, sharing her memories with another human being. A measure of sympathy between strangers, like a small fire to warm her soul a little.
Then the guards came to take John away, leaving Juliana alone in the endless light. She tried to sleep again, feeling she needed to take every moment she could to rest and recuperate. But she only dozed fitfully, every little sound scaring her awake with a pounding heart. When the guards returned for her, she felt as tired as if she hadn’t slept at all.
Back in the interrogation room the same procedure took place as before. The same questions, on an endless repeat. After what felt like hours, the man who had questioned her was replaced by a new, fresh-faced officer, and the questions started all over again. Juliana started to fall asleep, just a few seconds before she jerked herself awake. Then, when she stopped waking herself up, she was brusquely prodded in the back by one of the guards. It occurred to her it could be worth answering the questions if it meant she could sleep after. Eat and drink, too, but most of all to close her eyes undisturbed.
When her interrogator was replaced again, she didn’t even look up at the new man who seated himself in front of her. She was gazing at her hands, fighting the urge to doze away again. But when he spoke, she looked up, suddenly feeling wide awake. His voice was familiar, she had heard it very recently, but her tired brain took its time to comprehend what she saw.
This officer was higher ranked than her previous interrogators. His uniform was black, painfully neat and well-pressed, with rows of medals. A middle-aged man with dark hair, whose clean-shaven face was marred by a split lip and bruises. And those beautiful hazel eyes, alert now, and looking at her in cold calculation.
“I am Obergruppenführer John Smith. I have a few questions for you.”
A sense of betrayal fought with the realisation over how stupid she had been. Too trusting because it had been so nice to feel she wasn’t completely alone.
“You tricked me!”
“Yes, I did. It was not particularly difficult, but don’t be too hard on yourself. All in all, I told you very few lies. Most of what you saw and heard down there was valid information. You might have been able to spot falsehood, but the truth, fools most people.”
“You told me to not say anything important! And I didn’t.”
He smiled slightly.
“But you did. You are a very naive young woman if you think hard facts are the only useful kind of information. I wanted to get to know you, and with little prodding you provided me with all sorts of details about yourself. Details I would never have got in this room. It was well worth a few hours of personal discomfort.”
He opened one of his folders and looked down on its content.
“In fact, I know almost everything I need to know about you now. Your name is Juliana Crain, your sister name was Trudy. Your mother’s name is Anne and she re-married Arnold Walker. For the past few years you have been living with a Frank Frink, a man who is part Semite. And I know about the movies. You have stumbled into something much bigger and more complicated than you can ever imagine, and you are drowning.”
He turned the folder over so Juliana could see what he had been looking at. It was a shock to see her own face, looking up and away, seemingly lost in thought. A moment caught on paper in a bar; the drawing Frank had made. The one she had lost in Canon City and never thought she would see again.
“It’s a remarkable portrait,” John Smith said. “I didn’t understand quite how much until I met you. Now I can see it has captured you well. Your boyfriend is a talented artist.”
“Even if he is part-Jew?”
She meant to rankle him, but he didn’t take the bait.
“We have all met a talented Semite. Or one we perceive as a good one. What you fail to understand is that it’s not about the individual, but what is the greater good for society.”
He retrieved the drawing, closed the folder and put it away.
“I am not your enemy, Juliana. On the contrary; I can be your friend and your salvation. You only have to tell me where Joe Blake is.”
“I don't know.”
“Yes, you do. You misguidedly think you shouldn’t tell me, but I would say you know exactly where he is.”
“No. I have no idea, I promise.”
John Smith sighed and leaned back in his chair.
“I believe a woman’s place in society is to be revered. She has the most important role to play, she is, literally, the mother of our future. A man who doesn’t respect women is a despicable creature. But I will do whatever it takes to get what I want. And perhaps part of the problem here is that you can’t understand what you haven’t endured.”
He nodded to the guards behind her, and Juliana knew what was coming even before the first blow hit her. It felt like the beating lasted for a long time, but it must have been over in a matter of minutes, if not seconds. Then she was lifted back into the chair and given a moment to find her breathing before John Smith spoke again.
“I know this wasn't pleasant. But you are not badly hurt and you will have no more ill effect than a few bruises. This was only a taste of things to come if you continue to be stubborn. So. Where is Joe Blake?”
It was harder to find the words this time. Juliana took a deep breath, cut short by a stabbing pain in her ribs and she wondered if they were cracked.
“I don’t know where Joe is.”
She looked up to gauge John Smith’s reaction and found he didn’t seem surprised over her answer.
“I think we will stop for the day. You are tired and scared and I would like to talk to you when you can think with a clear mind. Let’s see what a night’s good sleep will do.”
A guard suddenly grabbed her arm, her sleeve was yanked up and before she could react, a syringe jabbed into her arm and emptied. Panic made her struggle for a few seconds, then everything went black around her.
When she woke up, she was in a bed. A comfortable bed with crisp white sheet and a soft, warm eiderdown comforter. Juliana lay very still, wondering where she was. This was not a prison cell, it was a proper bedroom. Simply but comfortably furnished, and the sun was streaming through a large window. For a moment she wondered if she was dreaming, but when she moved the twinges and aches in her body told her she was awake.
The door opened and John Smith came into the room, carrying a small pill bottle and a glass of water. He sat down at the side of the bed, shook out two white pills and offered them to her. Juliana sat up, clutching the comforter against her.
“It’s only aspirin. I figure you need them right now.”
Juliana shook her head, and he shrugged and popped the pills into his own mouth instead.
“I know I do.”
For a moment she hesitated, then she accepted the offered bottle and took two pills herself. The water was cold, and she gulped down the whole glass.
“Where am I?”
“In my rooms in the city. I sometimes work late and it’s easier to sleep here instead of going home.”
Juliana eyes him with growing suspicion.
“Why am I here?”
“I have a proposition for you.”
Juliana involuntarily moved away from him and clutched the comforter harder. She had half expected rape ever since she had been captured, but so far nothing of that sort had happened. John Smith laughed. A genuine laugh which crinkled the skin around his eyes, filling them with warmth. For a brief moment she could see a man who women could be very drawn to. A man she could have been interested in, under other circumstances.
“You are a very attractive young woman, but I’m a family man, and I love my wife deeply. It’s nothing improper, I promise you, however tempting it may be. No, we will merely have a little talk. But not until you have had a bath and a proper breakfast.”
He stood up.
“You will find everything you need in the bathroom.”
At first Juliana couldn’t stop glancing at the bathroom door. Despite his assurances she was prepared to see it burst open at any moment. But when it remained resolutely closed, she relaxed. Her last bath had been many days ago, and it was a wonderful feeling to be clean again. There were some ugly bruises on her arms and legs, but the hot water and the aspirin eased away the worst of the pain. When she was dry and her hair combed, if still damp, Juliana looked at her clothes. Her ordeal had turned them into stinking rags, and the thought of wearing them again disgusting. There was a neatly folded silk robe on a footstool and a pair of slippers in her size underneath. They were clearly meant for her, and though she loathed to accept it, in the end her reluctance to get dressed in her filthy clothes won out.
The bedroom was empty, but the door was open and she went through into a pleasant room which seemed to double as living room and office. On the walls she could see photos of a beautiful blond woman and three smiling children, the family he had mentioned earlier. John Smith himself was seated at a table, laden with the promised breakfast. He rose to let her get seated before he sat down again.
“Coffe? Or perhaps you prefer tea?”
“Coffee please.”
The food was delicious. The coffee was fresh and strong, with real milk, not substitute to merely water the it down. There were bread rolls, still warm from the oven and butter, cheese and marmalade. Juliana ate, trying hard to restrain herself when the only thing she wanted was to devour the food as fast as possible. John Smith poured himself a cup of coffee and let her eat undisturbed in an oddly companionable silence.
When she had finished eating, he put his cup down.
“Miss Crain. Juliana. In the eyes of the Greater Nazi Reich you are a traitor. Your misguided actions have come with a cost, for everyone involved. But I I want you to understand that on a purely personal level, I admire you. You are intelligent, resourceful and possess a great deal of courage. I would like to give you a chance.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You have to admit your adventures makes a good tale. I usually leave public relations to more capable hands, but I’m not blind to its possibilities. With a few adjustments, your story could be told to benefit both you and this country. A lovely young woman chafing under the cruel tyranny of the degenerate Japanese. Then we have the brave agent working undercover for the true cause, and they fall in love. Under much peril they are separated, but in the end they will be reunited. The public always enjoys a good love story.”
“This is ridiculous!”
“For you and me, yes, but not for the common people. They need heroes and heroines to look up to and be inspired by. You beauty and bravery would be admired, you would be a role model. Girls would copy your hairstyle and the way you dress. You would have a comfortable home and security. I won’t lie, you wouldn’t be completely trusted and would be monitored closely, but it would have little impact on your daily life. And not only for you. It would be quite easy to extract your mother and stepfather from the Pacific States, and they would be well provided for as well.“
“All this for the whereabouts of one man?”
“Joe is more important than you know. And you don’t have to worry for him. I’m not wanting him back to punish him. He has the potential for greatness and I don’t want to see it squandered for a lost cause. If Joe returns to the fold now, nothing is lost.”
“I don’t believe you. You are trying to trick me into betraying him, and then I’m dead.”
“I can see why you would think so. Unfortunately I can’t prove it to you.”
“You’ll never trust Joe again, even if you find him. How could you, now when he has started to doubt your propaganda?”
“You think I fear doubt? Not at all, even if it is not for everyone. The common workers are better off being happy with their lot. Blind devotion has it’s place. But for the thinking man, for anyone intelligent enough to belong to those who rule, doubt must come at some point. The other side has its allure, and you must be able to feel empathy for your enemy if you are to understand them. It’s dangerous, a door may open for corruption and disaster, but it’s necessary. A man who had doubted and decided to follow the right road, that man’s convictions are strong and unbreakable.”
“So you say you had doubts once?”
“Of course.”
He offered her a cigarette before taking one himself.
“Think about it for a little while. I like you and I see your potential too. I would much rather present you to my wife than have you shot.”
They both smoked in silence. John drank more coffee and looked out at the view of the city. He seemed relaxed, content on waiting for her answer with patience. A man who had doubted and decided which path which was the right one.
Juliana closed her eyes. The last days of constant fear and surprises made her feel like she had been tossed around in a blanket, only to be find herself in free fall. John’s proposal was ludicrous, but it was also tempting. She could tell everything of what little she knew, and it would all be over. Even if the most likely result was a death sentence. But if he wasn’t lying, then she could buy security, not only for herself, but for her family too. They would be safe.
To clear her mind she shook her head and opened her eyes again. John’s words had wormed their way into her thoughts, influencing them when she shouldn't give them any credence at all. They offered a happy ending only for the select few. And they presumed a lot more about her than she was prepared to accept. Like her feelings for Joe, which surely couldn’t be called love, when she didn’t know what to call them herself. Juliana gave John a quick glance. What had his doubts been? Then she realised she already knew. It must be his brother, the love and grief had not been faked. And then she knew why she found it so easy to be pulled in by his words. She wasn’t tempted with lies, but the truth. He had been honest when he said he wanted to be able to let her go. The connection she had felt with him in the cells had been real, and now he was using it.
She put down her cigarette- it has mostly smoked itself, anyway.
“Have you seen one of those movies, John?”
“No.”
“I have. And so has Joe. It changes you forever. You can promise what you will, but the thing is; I don’t doubt. I have hope instead. And I have nothing to tell you.”
John nodded, stubbed out his cigarette and stood up.
“For what it’s worth, Miss Crain, I’m truly sorry for what will happen now.”
He left the room, leaving Juliana alone to stare at the open doorway. The terror she had tried to suppress, rearing itself inside her. She had time to think, before the guards came to take her away, that he had been sincere in his apology too. And it wouldn’t help her at all.
