“Pleasant. But short. He had to leave. Some crisis.”
“In Karlshorst?” Dieter said, interested. “Maybe something with our friends in Lützowplatz.”
“No, out of town. Someplace called Aue.”
Dieter turned. “Aue? Are you sure? He said Aue?”
“That’s what it sounded like. A long drive at night, apparently. There was talk about that.”
“What kind of crisis?” His voice more urgent. “Did he say? It’s important.”
“Some labor problem. Maybe some kind of strike, that’s what it sounded like anyway.”
“No, not a strike,” Dieter said, thinking. “That’s not possible there. Did he say anything else?”
“No. Oh, how they always leave it too late. They should have called him earlier. That was it. He didn’t seem particularly upset. More annoyed at having to leave the party.”
“But he drives to Aue. A labor problem. In Aue.”
“That’s important?”
“In Aue, yes.”
“Why?”
“It’s in the Forbidden Zone.”
Alex looked at him, the phrase out of a magazine story.
“Aue is where they send you first, the distribution point. They call it the Gate of Tears.”
“Forbidden Zone?” The sound of it still implausible.
“The Russians sealed off the whole area. It’s controlled by Moscow, all the operations there, so it’s difficult getting information out. For the Germans too. The SED has no say, they just take orders. So something like this—it’s a break. Anything you could hear—”
“What am I listening for?”
“Yes, of course,” Dieter said quickly, distracted. “You don’t know. The Erzgebirge, they patrol the whole range. Fences sometimes, three meters.”
“Why?”
Dieter looked at him, surprised, something he assumed Alex already knew. “The uranium mines. You remember Oberschlema, famous for radium baths? In the old days it was good for the health. Well, they thought. Over on the Czech side, more spas, it’s the same region. Now the mines. The whole operation is called Wismut. If you ever hear him talk about that—”
“And no one knows?”
“No, people know. And they don’t know. We’re good at that. Ask anyone now, did they know about the Jews and no, they didn’t know a thing. Except who’s living here then? Who else would know? And at first, of course, when the Russians are using criminals, Nazis, it’s easy not to know. But they start drafting ordinary Germans and then the rumors start.”
“Who’s using criminals?” Alex said, not following.
“The mines. At first people went for the wages. Jobs that pay, that wasn’t so easy last year. And the papers made it sound good. Neues Deutschland. So not a secret. But then word got out about the conditions and no one would go. So Ulbricht sends ex-Nazis, political prisoners. He empties the jails and still not enough, so they start drafting forced labor. Twenty-five, thirty thousand last year. And they ask for seventy-five thousand more. These are rough figures,” he said with a side look to Alex. “Myself, I think it’s even more. And Ulbricht will find them. His own people—well, if you still think someone like that is German. The Russian bear just gobbles them up—feed me more. And Ulbricht does. People who have never done work like that. For them like a death sentence. Unless they can get to the West—anything to avoid the mines. We’re losing many that way. Last night, did you meet your publisher from Aufbau?”
“Aaron Stein?” Alex said, remembering the watery eyes.
“Yes. A decent man. You know he resigned from the central committee last year, the secretariat, to protest this. He said the SED should say no. Of course, how could they do that? A great embarrassment to Ulbricht, a respected man like Stein. We thought maybe a chance for us, someone we might recruit, but no, still a believer. So what happens? He resigns and Ulbricht sends more workers anyway. Thousands. And they don’t come back now, they keep them working, so it’s hard to know how it is there. How much are they shipping out? Why do they keep asking for more people? So you see, when you tell us he’s going to Aue—this is better than we hoped, to know that.”
“It’s not a lot.”
“Yes, but why? What happened? So now we listen. Even rumors. We have ears outside the zone. In the processing plants. We go to Farben in Bitterfeld and ask, what do you hear? The TEWA plant at Neustadt.”
“Neustadt?” Alex said, raising his head. But how many Neustadts were there in Germany? A hundred?
“Yes, near Greiz, but outside the zone, so we can talk to people there.”
“Do they use POWs? The mines?”
“Yes, of course. They were among the first. They’re already prisoners, so they can’t pick up and leave if they don’t like the work. Why?”
Alex looked up. “No reason,” he said, wary. But Dieter was still looking at him. “I just thought, useful, if we could find some to talk to.”
“Well, yes, anyone, but here you are with such a source—”
“I met him for two minutes. Do you really think he’s going to talk to me about any of this?”
“But he already has. Every lead is useful. And of course there’s the woman. An old friend of yours, yes? Campbell said.”
“Did he? When?”
“She sleeps with him. A man will say anything in bed.”
“Mining conditions in Aue? Is that what you would talk about?”
Dieter smiled. “My friend, at my age you don’t talk. You have to save your breath.” They had been walking gradually uphill and he stopped for effect, catching his wind. “It’s not so difficult for a woman. All she has to do is listen.”
“What makes you think this one will?”
“Well, I leave that to you.” They were rounding a small hill. “It’s kind to walk with an old man, but you should go now. Or someone might wonder. But first, let me show you something interesting. This way.”