An unrefusable offer

"I never came in contact with mustard gas," Martin said. "Luckily," he added. He laughed out loud and shrugged his shoulders. "I'm one of the lucky bastards who escaped the war unscathed."

"So was I, Herr Weiher." Rolf Joseph Schneider replied. "My two older brothers died from it."

"I'm sorry to hear that, Mr. Schneider."

"It's alright. It's been a while." He replied without looking at Martin. "I'm honored to be part of a team that's working to prevent further tragedies with the Kampfgas."

Martin didn't answer. He simply watched Schneider pace the room uncomfortably. "Do you know how my brothers suffered, Mr. Weiher?" He shot a glance at Martin. "They couldn't breathe - their bronchia were severely damaged, and they lay there for days in the hands of the paramedics. But they didn't die from suffocation, no. Their organs were burned, and gradually they stopped working. Eventually, they just died. I will never forget the look of agony on their faces."

"I'm very sorry to hear that."

"It's alright. Because we're working against it, aren't we?" But his voice was flat. "I'm not trying to convince you to take the position through pity, Mr. Weiher. I know you've seen worse at the front. You were there when comrade Hirt was shot through the jaw, weren't you?"

"Yes," Martin answered shortly. He was afraid of saying something wrong. "I thought he was going to die."

"I'm sure you've seen much worse as well."

Again, Martin didn't answer.

Their meeting had started much differently - much more comfortably. Schneider had offered him something to drink and he'd accepted a tea. Schneider had politely inquired about the Weiher family and their well-being. Now the cup stood on the wooden table untouched and the small talk seemed like hours ago.

"I'm not begging you, Mr. Weiher. We've gone too far to beg." Schneider stood by the window and peered outside as if he was waiting for somebody to arrive. "But I hope you remember what it was like at the front. You were there recently with the Wehrmacht. You must remember war far better than I can."

"I understand, Mr. Schneider."

"Professor Hirt is working on a cure, as I informed you in my letter. He came in contact with the substance himself. He was hospitalized for quite a while." He turned on his heel and looked at Martin who thought about standing but remained seated. He wasn't sure what kind of tricks Schneider was playing, but he was inclined to stay as far away from the man as he could. Schneider had an almost sickening way about him. "I want the best men to be working with him, Mr. Weiher."

"I understand. Fully." Martin agreed.

"I believe you'd be a great addition to the Ahnenerbe and the IWZ."

Martin replied with a smile.

"Will you take our offer?"

"How can I refuse?" Martin asked. He laughed, and it wasn't forced or insincere. This whole thing was so crazy - it was impossible - yet here he was, taking a position he knew would change his life. He didn't want to take it, he didn't want to leave Marlene and the family behind - not out of love but out of fear. Martin didn't understand the world he lived in, so how could he navigate it alone? And if Professor Hirt was anything like Rolf Schneider...he wasn't sure he'd be able to work side by side with him.

"Wonderful, Mr. Weiher. Welcome to the Ahnenerbe." All of a sudden Schneider's facial expression became warm and inviting and he laughed.

Martin stood and took Schneider's outstretched hand which he shook heartily. Schneider was a man of many faces. Before contracts were signed and decorated with postal stamps he was a horrible man, intimidating and serious. But when the job was done he became a joy to be around.

"When do I start?"

"Next week on Monday."

"And I'll stay?"

"In a little place near campus."

"Sounds wonderful. I assume I'll be able to visit the children and Marlene on weekends?" Martin asked hopefully.

"Of course! As long as Professor Hirt doesn't need you to be present."

"I can agree to that."

"We've arranged for your drive home. Thank you for coming in, Mr. Weiher. And thank you for accepting our offer."

"The pleasure was mine." They shook hands again.

As Martin left the office, he couldn't help but shake the feeling that his counterpart knew something was off about him. Franz and the man had never been close friends, but they'd been comrades and acquaintances who knew each other quite alright. He shivered. Although Schneider had become friendly once he'd agreed to the position he still couldn't shake the weird feeling he'd felt in his presence. Martin couldn't imagine how Franz or anyone could get along with someone as capricious and twisted as Rolf Schneider.