The Sixth Seal

Hannah awoke to a thunderous explosion. The lamp beside her table shook, teetered, and then fell to the floor shattering the bulb and sending glass shrapnel in all directions. She swung her legs over the bed, taking care not to step on any of the fragments. A truck rumbled past her window on the street below. She drew back the curtain. There was no obvious damage from this vantage point, but more trucks and soldiers were heading toward the square in front of her building.

The events of the night before still troubled her, but she knew she needed to get back to the book. She had been quite surprised when the soldier brought her back to her room. She had expected to be placed in a cell. Instead she’d been confined to her room, a guard stationed just outside her door. Would Doctor Altman even let her in the lab? She wondered if Henryk had already given his report. And what had become of the Bishop? Perhaps Henryk was planning on using this event as leverage. She shuddered at the thought of any of these lecherous bastards laying a finger on her.

Now she could hear shouting outside and the unmistakable rhythm of soldiers marching in formation. There was definitely something going on and she wasn’t about to sit in her room alone. She crossed the tiny room to her armoire, pulled out her uniform, and did her best to get all of the buttons in place and her cap on straight before dashing out the door. The chair in the hallway sat empty of the guard. She thought briefly of trying to flee to the countryside in order to meet up with the Resistance on her own, but the book’s subtle call convinced her otherwise. Its call was calmer now, less frantic. In fact, it was almost enticing.

She took the steps down to the foyer two at a time, and bolted for the door. Before she reached it, the door swung open. Doctor Altman stood in the doorway framed by the morning sky and wisps of grayish-white smoke. His hazel eyes scoured the scene before coming to rest on her. She stopped where she was, waiting for him to speak.

“Hannah, my dear, thank goodness you’re alright.” He grabbed her by the arm. “Come with me. Quickly now. The lab will be a safer bet this morning.”

The square was full of trucks and soldiers running in every direction. A burnt-out Citroen sat parked at the curb, smoldering. All of the windows had been blown out along with much of the roof. The tires were melted to the ground and the wind pushed the acrid smell in her face, nearly taking her breath away. She coughed, reflexively squeezing the Doctor’s arm.

He handed her his handkerchief as he guided her along the periphery of the scene. “I do hope you are alright, my dear. These damn resistance fighters managed to hit us right at our doorstep.” He held onto her arm and walked briskly toward the Capitole building.

She nodded. “I’m fine, Doctor. Have you spoken to Lieutenant Wozniak?”

The Doctor gave a half salute to the soldier still standing guard at the front doors. The man jumped to action, holding the doors open for them.

“I spoke to him earlier, dear.”

She tensed and stopped in the doorway, forcing the Doctor to turn around.

“What is it?” There seemed to be genuine concern on his face.

“Did he say anything about me?”

The Doctor took her hand and patted it. “Oh, I know what this is all about.” He smiled. “You’re worried that I’ve learned your secret.”

She hoped the Doctor couldn’t see the look of horror on her face that she knew must certainly be there. Was he just toying with her? Had he been planning on walking her calmly to a cell, or worse yet, was he going to let Henryk have his way with her?

“My secret?” Was all she could manage to get out.

“He told me all about your midnight stroll.” The Doctor made a tsking noise and smiled again. “He was a little upset that you snuck out and broke curfew, but I think he was more worried about you than he would care to admit. Now come along, dear, I want you to take a look at the artifact. I’ve turned off the electromagnetic field, so you should be fine.” The Doctor urged her forward.

Her mind reeled at the implications. Was that truly all Henryk had said to the Doctor? If so, there was only one possibility. He was definitely going to use what he knew as leverage. Another shudder ran through her. She would have to step up her plans to steal the book. Maybe she could be out of France before she ever had to deal with the bastard again.

The Doctor opened the door to the lab and ushered her in. All of her other worries fell away. The book rested on top of the table, out of the box it had been in before. Unlike before, the power radiating from its pages was gentle, delicate. It still held a note of desperation, but she could tell that her presence somehow reassured the book. She absorbed the pulsing energy, felt it warm her body.

It knows I have come for it.

The Doctor brushed past her, turning on lights and making his way to the table. “I want you to look at the inscriptions on the artifact, and tell me what you make of them.”

She walked to his side, watching him bent over the book, studying its edges.

“See this, dear.” He pointed to the golden ring set in the book’s center. “There is a faint line of script around the edge. It looks vaguely like Arabic, but there are other symbols here as well.” He pointed to one of the smaller rings below the larger one. “This one is lined almost entirely with strange symbols. What do you make of it?”

She knew exactly what to make of it, but she had no intention of letting the Doctor know that. To this point his interest appeared purely scientific, but she knew all too well how persuasive the Nazis could be when there was power to be had. She leaned in closer, pretending to examine the script.

“It certainly shares some similarities with Arabic, but it isn’t like anything I’ve ever seen before.” She gestured to the smaller ring. “See these markings, here and here?” When he nodded, she continued. “They’re more akin to hieroglyphs.”

“Can you make any sense of it at all?” She could feel his eyes watching her face.

“I’m not certain, but I think the hieroglyphs may be the key to deciphering the script around the larger ring.” She hoped her explanation would be sufficient to satisfy him and buy her some time.

“Do you think you could decipher it?”

She furrowed her brow. “I might be able to, but I’ll need some time to study the markings. Is there a library nearby?”

“Well, yes, there is. Do you think you’ll be able to find anything of use?”

“They may have some Arabic texts that I can use for a baseline comparison.” She paused. “Where did you say the artifact was found?”

He hesitated for a moment before answering. “It was discovered on an archaeological dig near Patay. The Vichy thought it might be of interest to the Fuhrer, so they presented it to the local command. Eventually it came to the attention of Doctor Goebbels, and he tasked me with studying it to see if the strange source of its energy could be harnessed.”

Harnessed. That’s exactly what she was worried about. There was no telling what kind of destruction would be unleashed if the Nazi’s were successful. The true power of the book could only be drawn out when all of the protectors were gathered before it, but she also knew that the Nazis were quite resourceful. They just might be able to break it open with their arsenal of equipment given the chance.

“And what are the electromagnetic devices for?”

She detected a look of surprise on his face. He cleared his throat and looked away when he answered.

“Just a test to see how the device would react to a direct bombardment.”

“And?”

He looked back up at her. “Pardon?”

“What were the results?”

“Oh yes, of course...the results. The artifact responded by storing up a greater amount of energy which then dissipates quite rapidly once the bombardment stops.” He scratched his head and looked around the tabletop. He picked up a well-worn notebook and flipped through the pages. “I haven’t really learned anything productive in that regard. Why don’t you go ahead and take some rubbings of the rings for your research.”

He tore a sheet of paper from the notebook and handed her a thick pencil with a dull point. She accepted them and set about taking detailed rubbings of the intricate script and symbols for the Doctor’s benefit. She was already fairly familiar with the script. It had been imprinted on her when the book was first brought down from the heavens. While she certainly didn’t remember that lifetime, she remembered the script.

“I think I’ve got a pretty complete sampling. Do you have a car that I could take to the library?”

He hesitated before answering. “I’m afraid Lieutenant Wozniak was quite insistent that you have an escort when you travel in the city.” When she started to protest, he put up a hand. “It’s for your own safety, dear. After all, the square right outside was just bombed. I couldn’t bear to think what I would do if any harm came to you.”

She thought about protesting further, but she could see that he was genuinely concerned, so she just nodded.

He patted her hand. “I’ll have Niklas bring a car around front for you.”

“Niklas? Why does that name sound familiar?”

He gave her a little smile. “He’s the handsome young lad that’s been assigned to keep an eye on the residents in your apartment building. Quite an amiable fellow.”

“Oh yes, I remember him now.” She returned the Doctor’s smile even though she didn’t share his assessment of Niklas. Her first impression was that he was too eager to please, and when you worked for the Nazis, eagerness was a dangerous trait.

Hannah had to give the Doctor credit. He certainly traveled in style. When she walked out the front doors of the Capitole, Niklas was waiting at the bottom of the steps, holding the door of a shiny, black Mercedes-Benz open for her.

You must have friends in high places, doctor. Typically reserved for high-ranking officers and heads of state, the car was a convertible affair with a spare tire recessed into a sweeping front fender. She reveled in the irony that a car meant for transporting the elite of the Nazi Party would now be chauffeuring a Jew throughout an occupied city, and in a small way at least, helping her to thwart their efforts.

Niklas looked almost as well put together as the car. His gray wool trousers were tucked neatly into gleaming black riding boots. Even his coat looked as though it had seen no real action. The buttons were entirely too polished, and the lapels were creased to perfection. She gave him a once over. Yes, definitely overeager.

“Good morning, Miss Klein. The Doctor instructed me to take you to the library.” He clicked his heels and stood at attention. She wondered how she merited such deference.

“At ease soldier.” She slid into the front seat and rested her arm on the door. “You do know where it is, don’t you?”

“Affirmative, Miss.” He sat down next to her, pulled the door closed, and started the car.

The Mercedes growled to life as though it had been waiting for the opportunity. Niklas eased it through the square and around the Capitole in the opposite direction of the chaos of recent events, although much of the damage had already been cleaned up.

The air was brisk enough that she was glad for her wool coat, but not so cool as to be uncomfortable. If she hadn’t been with the enemy, she might even have decided that the car ride was rather pleasant.

Niklas traversed a route similar to the one she had the night before. They turned down the same lane lined with apartments, skirting the river. The surroundings looked quite different in the daylight. It was a beautiful city to be sure, but there was something missing. It came to her gradually as they passed through the streets of town. It was a lack of people. No, that wasn’t it exactly either. There were people on the streets, but they all walked with a purpose. They all appeared to have destinations in mind. There were no children playing in yards, or amorous couples strolling idly, just those that had a need to get from one place to another. Heads down, feet moving. I suppose it isn’t necessary to lock someone in a cell to imprison them.

Niklas slowed the car and turned down a wide avenue and onto the bridge. The same one she had crawled across the night before. She could see the spires of the church on the other side reaching skyward as if pleading for help from above. They drove over the bridge and passed the church. The big green doors were closed. She wondered what had happened to the Bishop. Maybe she could sneak out of the library, double back and check on him. If he was alright, she needed to let him know that there would probably be extra security in front of her apartment. It might not be the safest place for one of his boys to deliver a message from Jacques. Perhaps she could arrange a new meeting place. Yes, that’s exactly what she would do, just as soon as she lost Niklas. If she could lose him.