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The Undesirables
Di Lumen Reese
Azioni libro
Inizia a leggere- Editore:
- Lumen Reese
- Pubblicato:
- Mar 14, 2020
- ISBN:
- 9781952373022
- Formato:
- Libro
Descrizione
By day, Maren Abernathy is a lovely and helpful telegraph operator, working in the Nazi-occupied town of Marquet in the American Rocky Mountains. At night, she's a secret agent of the revolutionary British Liberties organization. She hates Hitler, but happily salutes a painting of der führer when she receives a promotion to the International Communications department, where she’ll handle coded German intelligence of utmost importance. What she doesn't know is that the promotion she worked so hard to get puts her on a trajectory to unearth a deadly secret; and with all American boys shipped off at age seventeen to serve in the German military, that leaves only the women and Maren's team of those historically wronged by the Nazis to fight back.
Her girlfriend Beatrix, a secret Jew from the neighboring mining town of Pine Hills, would be referred to as a 'smart rat' in the Nazi code that Maren transmits. She warns Maren about the town's mayor, who recommended her for the promotion and works closely with her. Sterling Stratus -according to small-town gossip- killed his wife and mangled his son. Andrew Stratus lost a hand, that much is indisputable, but to reveal the Nazi secret, Maren has to get to the heart of the fifteen year old cover-up.
Informazioni sul libro
The Undesirables
Di Lumen Reese
Descrizione
By day, Maren Abernathy is a lovely and helpful telegraph operator, working in the Nazi-occupied town of Marquet in the American Rocky Mountains. At night, she's a secret agent of the revolutionary British Liberties organization. She hates Hitler, but happily salutes a painting of der führer when she receives a promotion to the International Communications department, where she’ll handle coded German intelligence of utmost importance. What she doesn't know is that the promotion she worked so hard to get puts her on a trajectory to unearth a deadly secret; and with all American boys shipped off at age seventeen to serve in the German military, that leaves only the women and Maren's team of those historically wronged by the Nazis to fight back.
Her girlfriend Beatrix, a secret Jew from the neighboring mining town of Pine Hills, would be referred to as a 'smart rat' in the Nazi code that Maren transmits. She warns Maren about the town's mayor, who recommended her for the promotion and works closely with her. Sterling Stratus -according to small-town gossip- killed his wife and mangled his son. Andrew Stratus lost a hand, that much is indisputable, but to reveal the Nazi secret, Maren has to get to the heart of the fifteen year old cover-up.
- Editore:
- Lumen Reese
- Pubblicato:
- Mar 14, 2020
- ISBN:
- 9781952373022
- Formato:
- Libro
Informazioni sull'autore
Correlati a The Undesirables
Anteprima del libro
The Undesirables - Lumen Reese
The Undesirables
by Lumen Reese
Copyright © 2020 by Lumen Reese
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced without permission.
Certain copyrighted works are referenced within, mentioned in good faith in accordance with the fair use doctrine.
The Undesirables is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is coincidental.
Author’s note:
This book is dedicated to my family and friends, and to anyone who could be considered ‘Undesirable’.
It is also dedicated to Amazon CEO Jeff Bezos:
Fuck that guy.
The Undesirables is continued in the Romani Trilogy.
ISBN: 978-1-952373-02-2 (ebook)
Book cover design by Hadi Hasan (Hadihasan0098 at Fiver.com)
Also by Lumen Reese:
Heart Dust
Monarch Falls (The Four Quarters of Imagination: Book One)
The Undesirables
Romani
"I know the night is not the same as the day: that all things are different, that the things of the night cannot be explained in the day, because they do not then exist, and the night can be a dreadful time for lonely people once their loneliness has started."
-Ernest Hemingway, A Farewell to Arms.
Chapter One
I don't want to die.
It was the first thought through my mind as I saw the short man stepping through the front door. There in the lobby, a few women of different ages, all white, waited to send out messages, either to neighboring towns or overseas. I sat on the end of one row of telegraphs, tapping Morse Code to Langdon, a factory town thirty miles south along the mountains, who had requested additional troops from the barracks in my town of Marquet. My pen scribbled away in shorthand, while I glanced to my right, to the other six women lined up, pretty and smartly dressed, and clicking and writing, just like me. They were at ease, no reason to worry.
Any number of things could have gone differently. I could have slept in, ten minutes more in my lover's arms, and missed the morning's first train back into town. I could have, upon being the first woman to arrive at the Communications Office that morning, chosen the other end of the row, and been more hidden from plain sight. Sterling Stratus, the mayor of the town Pine Hills down the mountain, could have chosen to enter through the back door, or he could have had his nose in a book as he walked, like I had seen him do before.
I could have been hit by a truck that morning, and broken half the bones in my body, and spent that day in life-saving surgery getting my insides felt-up by a medical intern who still had baby fat. That would have been preferable.
But I was me, so naturally I had woken early and caught my train, and went home and showered and dressed in fresh clothes and put on makeup and arrived early for work and claimed the most visible seat, begging the world, look at me, look at me! And Mr. Stratus was himself, and not a very handsome man, could maybe be just-past-sixty but succumb to facial creases and crevices beyond his years, so surely he would remember beautiful me smiling at him as he walked by on the streets of Pine Hills several days before, where I was not supposed to be, accompanied by someone I was not supposed to be with.
Heart hammering, I made sure my pen did not stop moving, my finger still worrying at the steady pulse of my machine. Sterling Stratus was coming closer, and I watched without watching until he stopped in place. And I knew he was looking at me with his sunken eyes.
Maybe he doesn't remember me, I thought, even as I knew how preposterous that was. Me, with my blonde waves of hair on my porcelain skin, smiling at an ugly, little man like him. Of course he remembered. A cruel thought, but a true one. It had been stupid to draw attention to myself, but I loved how daring it made me feel. And nobody ever smiled at Mayor Stratus, certainly not beautiful women, and I had thought it would brighten his day. People, when they acknowledged him, would give terse nods. He did his job, and did it well. Kept the mines and the town running smoothly. But everyone warned to keep away. Everyone knew there were stories, though getting your hands on one was not so easy. Small towns kept their secrets to themselves, even those which belonged to people whom they swore deserved no such allegiance.
After one full second, he had been watching me too long for me not to look up. I forced a smile and nod, then turned back to my station.
It spurred the mayor to move once again, walking through the rows of women scribbling and tapping at their machines. He was headed to the back, to Fat Wilhelm's office, which I could see through open blinds. The exchange had not gone unnoticed; all the other women in my row had turned in their seats to watch me. Some only looked confused. Others smiled. And women -bless them- are crafty. Were those mocking, catty little grins, because the office show-off, too pretty for her own good, had caught the attention of the sociopathic owner of that dirty little coal mine? Or were those smirks playful? The rich mayor from Pine Hills had his eye on you! He's not handsome, but he probably won’t live much longer!
I often found it difficult to read people. And in my position, I often found reading people to be a useful skill. Even a necessity. It wouldn't be an exaggeration to say that people in my field have lost their lives for want of a better internal atlas of the human face; or a better internal encyclopedia of the human condition. And for all of my vanity, I was a person who knew my faults, so when I started in my line of work I took it upon myself to study up where I was lacking. Sometimes it was consulting psychologists, other times it was just sitting and watching people from a distance. The face did certain things, to show the whole world about you, whether you wanted it to or not; not unlike a serial killer who somewhat wanted to be caught, leaving clues and keeping trophies that would be her ultimate downfall.
Yes, I imagine a female serial killer; rarer and inherently more interesting that her male counterparts. When I was a child I imagined I might be an assassin.
I didn't see malice, on Sterling Stratus's face as he sat himself across from Fat Wilhelm Martin. Neither a pulled-together brow, nor flared nostrils. But those were only the most obvious signs of foul intent, and what I didn't see in people could fill a book. First chapter: Good Will, Humanity, and Other Staples of the Soul.
Seconds must have passed but with the beeping in my headset, I couldn't count them. Not by the frantic pace of my heart, either. The clock was on the wall behind me. I couldn't turn to look at it without drawing too much attention.
When the door to Fat Wilhelm's office opened, I straightened too fast and my neck cricked.
Maren?
Oh no.
Yes?
Join me in my office, please.
I can smell the sauerkraut on your breath from here.
Certainly, Sir,
I said, and stood, brushing off my skirt as it rustled tightly on my thighs with each step. My jacket with its double-breast and squared shoulders was next. A pea green suit that set my skin off. If I was going to die, I was going to face it head-on and looking neat.
But when the door to that office shut behind me, the fear reared its head again, and my right hand at my side spasmed with it. I tucked it behind my back and put on a dimpled smile.
Sir?
Sterling Stratus had stood as I entered, and now gestured to his vacated chair opposite my employer. Please.
Thank you.
I took the seat, and tucked my heels neatly underneath, my hands knotted around each other in my lap.
Maren Abernathy, I'm told you know Mr. Stratus.
Sterling, please,
the small man said, offering his hand pleasantly enough. I shook it, though I felt like I had left my body. The whole time I was thinking that he gave me the seat so that he could look down on me, look down on someone who looked like me, for once in his sad life.
Do I know you, Sir?
I don't want to die. Life is beautiful; air is sweet.
Uh, no, I don't believe so. Wilhelm misspoke. It's me who knows you, actually.
Oh?
Yes, I've seen you in Pine Hills. You were volunteering at our orphanage, maybe a week ago? I saw you with a girl. That was you, wasn't it?
A girl, I thought. He looks like a toad, but he’s a viper.
Oh!
I exhaled. You know my secret.
Yes, it seems so.
I didn't need to listen closely for the warning his words carried.
Fat Wilhelm raised an eyebrow at me. Do you often travel down the mountain, Maren?
Not so often. I am a very busy woman, so I can't help as much as I'd like to.
I could feel my body coming down slowly from the terror of certain death. Saved. Thrown a life-preserver. Going down the mountain wasn't illegal, strictly speaking. Though if you went there very often, suspicions would be raised, so I made a point of doing something charitable down there at least once a week. If Mr. Stratus -for whatever reason- didn't want to shed light on the illegal activities I had been conducting, just as well. Could kindness be his reason? No. Surely not.
When the time came, he would name his price.
I gave the mayor another casual smile, while trying to issue a warning that I wouldn't be fooled. That whatever game he was playing, he was out of his mind to try it on with me.
Wilhelm said, Well I hope you're careful when you do go. No offense to Mr. Stratus, but there are some hard sorts down there.
I don't find them so terrifying,
Stratus said. But then, maybe I'm just braver than you, Wilhelm.
The ghost of a smile showed crooked teeth. My employer smiled back, then flattened out and folded sausage fingers over a file on his desk.
Maren, did you know we were looking to move one of you girls into the back room?
My heart fluttered. Oh? -I mean, yes, yes, there have been some rumors.
More than rumors. And I had done more than just listen.
Right. Well we've had a few problems with our sorting process, looking for who to promote.
I knew that too, of course. I had seen to three of those four problems myself. And the fourth had been in the planning stages when happenstance occurred, and Number Four had bedded the wrong superior. It could mark the first time a girl screwed herself out of a job, in Marquet. The first two, simple rumors had done the trick. For the third, contraband. Nothing too serious, the girl came back to work after a day of interrogation. She had looked distant, the way that people look after something comes along and disturbs their crafted lives. Who knows if they did something to her, or if it was just that shock, that reminder that she is helpless.
I recognized my guilt and my pity for her, but locked it away in its rightful box.
My boss went on. We looked at our senior employees first, but none of them presented safe choices, upon closer inspection. You transferred to us only ten months ago, but before that-,
he flipped the cover of the file on his desk, and I realized it had to be mine. -You worked twelve years in our London office, with an exemplary record. And, don't think that we hadn't noticed your dedication here. First one in, most days, always eager to help your fellow ladies, or your superior officers. You were to be one of our top choices, for the next round of vetting. But Mr. Stratus made a suggestion of your consideration for the job, and I think that your consistency makes you perfect for it. It's yours if you want it.
I beamed, and some of it was genuine. A mix of relief and gratification, so strong it was almost sexual. Thank you, Sir!
I had found my feet and was shaking his sweaty hand, next I knew. I'm so glad that my work has pleased you, I do take a lot of pride in it.
I can tell. I'll be sad not to see your smiling face around my office anymore.
You know I feel the same, but I'll be just down the hall.
I turned to Stratus. And thank you, Sir.
Sterling, please. You'll be seeing me some, I have weekly transmissions to Munich, which I haven't been able to make for some time, now.
Wilhelm said, We'll be playing catch-up for days, I'm afraid. Can you come in tomorrow, Stratus? Get started on the backlog?
I can.
We'll chip away at them, as your schedule permits.
A nice day to you.
"And to you. And Heil mein Führer!" He stuck his right arm out, with his hand extended, wearing his most serious expression. He made a mockery of the thing without even meaning to.
Sterling's response was underwhelming. Yes, hail the Führer,
he said, saluting without looking back as he collected his books and papers under one arm and turned away.
But I turned to face the east wall, where a large portrait of Adolf Hitler was hung directly in the center. He was the leader of the Nazi party, and so the ruler of Germany and its provinces. Which included our humble little town of Marquet in the Rocky Mountains.
And still beaming, I gave my best salute, and called, Hail the Führer!
And God bless England.
Sterling Stratus stopped just outside the door and cast a glance back at me. His eyes ran over me and I felt thoroughly dissected, and the sensation of vulnerability, I realized, had fallen out of fashion with me.
Chapter Two
I'm not going to catch that train, I thought, standing at the checkout line of a liquor store with a bottle of champagne in one hand. The shop was a bit out of my way, but its side window offered a nice view of the rusty, graffitied train waiting at the station. That train could run all up and down the mountain range in a day, with a stop at each station, at each hub and each sleepy little town on the way. As it was it made the trip between Marquet and Pine Hills twice in the mornings, once at the crack of dawn, to bring up the previous day's coal -and criminals like myself sneaking back after a night of sordid activities- and once to bring passengers working or otherwise conducting business, that day. Any travel beyond our two towns would need to be investigated and approved by the travel agents in Marquet.
I was watching the train before its five o'clock departure, to return those who came into the city to work. A scant handful. But I wasn't going to board that train, oh no. Two nights in a row, that was obvious, dangerous, clingy.
I am not going to board that train.
But my bottle of champagne called me a liar, and my pocket watch whispered to hurry, and I said, Keep the change,
and stuck the bottle under one arm and hurried for the door. Across the street and through the empty line I dashed, and with a year's pass I was allowed on by a grinning, German conductor with a cleft in his chin that would have stolen a lesser woman's heart.
One of these days,
he said, You're gonna tell me what you do in Pine Hills, Miss.
One of these days,
I teased. But only if you guess it, which you won't.
He shut and latched the door with a grunt, then put on a thoughtful expression. You've got a boyfriend down there, it's gotta be.
No,
I said, which was what he wanted to hear, but it was the truth, too. And the mystery continues. Now go drive the train, Daniel.
Yes Ma'am.
I took my seat across from a girl I knew, Austen, whose father had been a coal miner, and whose mother had been a coal miner. She was brunette, and round-faced, with no chin, looking a bit too innocent for her age. She waited tables in Marquet, and had told me once that she dreamed of seeing London. I had told her she just might, but I had left out that I and many others had designs to make it possible. I had also left out that even accounting for the downfall of the Nazi's, the odds of her succeeding were slim to none.
The common people's capacity for hope is our greatest weapon, I thought, returning Austen's smile.
What do you have there?
Oh! Champagne,
I said only, because the girl I sometimes chatted with on the train did not need to know what I did for a living or that I had been promoted.
Celebrating?
Yes...
I maintained a smile.
I've never tasted champagne before... is it good?
It is. You should definitely try some, when you get to London, or Paris.
She put on a smile and looked away, and didn't speak again.
In a few minutes we had descended down the mountain, and Pine Hills came into view. There were no pine trees in Pine Hills. Like the surrounding miles of terrain they had mostly been logged years ago apart from a small ring of foliage around the pond outside the west end of town, not far from the mine. Most of the land was hard and barren looking, and from above, the town looked the same. A few hundred small, squat hovels haphazardly strewn around. One larger house -along the outskirts of the others as if it knew that its second story and brick walls made it stand out- belonged to the mayor, Sterling Stratus.
Maybe, the thought drifted to the surface from some dark place, I'll pay him a visit tonight. Collect a knife on the way and put a sharp end to whatever devices he has regarding me.
But the idea was not a serious one. Knives were easy to acquire, and objectively speaking they were easy to use, but the actual act of wielding one would be foreign to me. Knives were not my weapons. Weapons, in fact, were not my weapons.
Were he any other man, I might put on lipstick and undo a button on my shirt and pay him a visit, indeed. Get him flustered and get him talking. I could handle myself around normal men, could lead a conversation the way I wanted it to go, most days. But men that people whispered about were not to be played with; they weren't playing the same game that the rest of us were playing. Sterling Stratus did not seem deranged to me, but probably that only made him more dangerous.
As the train pulled into the station, though, my mind left grimmer subjects and my heart was fluttering once again. I was the first one to step off onto the hard dirt, and started at a trot into the
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