Fatal Lies

22

“You wanted to see me, headmaster?”

“Yes indeed, Wolf. Please sit.”

Professor Eichmann was signing and dating documents. On Eichmann's desk was a photograph of himself looking considerably younger and dressed in the uniform of an artillery officer. The headmaster glanced up from his paperwork.

“How is your father?”

“Very well, headmaster.”

“You will be kind enough to include my salutations when you next write home.”

“Of course, headmaster.”

Professor Eichmann signed and dated one more document, and said: “You will be wondering why I wanted to see you today.” He did not pause for a reply, but instead made some polite inquiries after Wolf's health. He then congratulated Wolf, first for winning a bronze medal in the school shooting competition, and second for having been invited by Professor Gartner to join his special tutorial group.

“He is very particular about who he accepts,” said the headmaster. “Such an invitation is extended to only the most promising pupils-boys with the right attitude.”

When their gazes met, they did so with mutual understanding. They had had similar discussions in the past.

The headmaster toyed with his pen, and spoke for some time about the values of the school and about how, for generations now, Saint Florian's had been producing soldiers of the highest quality. “Men who appreciated the importance of loyalty, fidelity, and obedience- men of honor.”

He put his pen down and made some minor adjustments to its position.

“Of course,” continued the headmaster, “lately Saint Florian's has been forced to accept a number of boys who do not share our values. Boys who object to our methods, find fault with our principles- and whose families are not acquainted with our traditions. This saddens me, because if an outside party were to question these boys, I fear they would misrepresent us. They do not seem to appreciate that we are-as it were-a family. Loose talk damages the school's reputation-and what damages the school's reputation damages all of us.”

Eichmann's voice was persuasive, reasonable-but it was also troubled by a trace of anger. The headmaster sighed, smiled, and said: “I understand that Professor Gartner has recently introduced you to the writings of Friedrich Nietzsche.”

“Yes,” said Wolf. “We have been reading Beyond Good and Evil. “

“A very stimulating work,” said Eichmann. “Although when Professor Gartner introduces you to Thus Spake Zarathustra, you will discover even greater riches.” The headmaster stood up and walked over to the lancet windows. He reached out his right hand and, resting it against the stone casement, leaned forward, allowing his arm to support his pitched body. The sun had dropped below the horizon, and rivers of darkness had begun to appear between the hills. “The police were here again today.” His voice was even.

“I know, headmaster.”

“Something must be done.”

“Yes, headmaster.”

“Something decisive.”

“Of course, headmaster.”