Free The Metal Man: An Account of a WW2 Nazi Cyborg by Ben Stevens Page B

directed his skull-like smile towards Reinhardt.
     
    Then in that soft, lisping voice, he said –
     
    ‘The last time we spoke, Captain, was in relation to the strange ability one of your employees has to circumnavigate the Nuremberg Laws…’
     
    ‘Firstly, Major,’ began Reinhardt with real irritation, ‘Jonas Schroder is not an ‘employee’ of mine. I am merely his superior at a research laboratory whose existence you should not even know about. A laboratory, I may say, which the Fuhrer himself…’
     
    ‘Yes, yes,’ repeated Fleischer, still smiling as he waved away Reinhardt’s protests.  ‘You would be surprised at how many things I do know about, Captain. How many… shall we say secrets , I am able to unearth. Sometimes people try to conceal certain things from me, but always I find them out.
     
    ‘All it takes is time, and a certain methodical patience.’
     
    Something in what the Gestapo Major was saying made Reinhardt suddenly, urgently need to urinate. There was a sly hinting ; an insinuation that Reinhardt himself had been hiding something…
     
    Again the Gestapo man fell into silence, staring steadily at Reinhardt. There was no question now that he was enjoying this mental torment.
     
    Reinhardt forced himself to say: ‘I have absolutely no idea what you are talking about, Major.’
     
    Fleischer chuckled, an obscene sound made deep down in his throat.
     
    ‘Oh, but I believe you do, Captain. I realize now that it’s only natural you should have worked so hard to protect this half-Jewish scientist of yours…’
     
    He paused, as the blood pumped loudly inside Reinhardt’s ears and his sight almost dimmed. He thought he was about to pass out from sheer terror…
     
    ‘After all, my dear Wilhelm Reinhardt, you are fully Jewish yourself,’ said the Gestapo man then. 
     
     
    16
     
     
    In the near-darkness of the cavernous laboratory (only two strip lights shining above, which was exactly how Schroder wanted it), the half-Jewish scientist stood and gazed down at his creation lying on the metal table.
     
    ‘Who were you?’ said Schroder softly. ‘What kind of soldier must you have been, to now show these signs of rebellion?’
     
    No reply.
     
    Only the humming of the machines lining the walls as the Metal Man recharged. And yet Schroder had partially activated the machine with the human parts. It was not in that state which approximated to ‘sleep’, and which was required for the Metal Man’s non-mechanical components.
     
    (Not that any of the other scientists were aware of this – they believed the Metal Man was just periodically ‘shut down’ for maintenance.)
     
    ‘What is happening in – there?’ whispered Schroder, leaning down and putting his mouth close to the machine’s listening apparatus on the right-hand side. This could hardly have been called an ‘ear’; in appearance, it was more like the metallic grill of a field-radio.
     
    ‘Have I made something with a conscience – or was that conscience already there?’ continued Schroder.
     
    He then gave a mirthless chuckle.
     
    ‘Yes – a robot with human parts, devised as a killing machine to serve its Nazi masters, which is now refusing direct orders given to it during active service,’ he declared. ‘Dear, oh dear – that is not so good. And now it seems I have to build more of you…?’
     
    At that moment, one of the double-doors leading into the laboratory crashed open.
     
    Schroder spun round, squinting his eyes behind the glasses to try and make out who was stood there in the near-darkness.
     
    ‘Wilhelm?’ he said then. ‘Is that you?’
     
    The figure advanced slowly. Schroder felt fear seize his insides.
     
    Then the figure came into the weak light emitted by the two strip lights shining directly above, and the half-Jewish scientist almost gave a sigh of relief as he saw that it was his disfigured superior.
     
    But something was wrong – the expression on that badly