his mustache and said, “Bad shiner. How’d that
happen?” Rotwang smiled, enjoying Hagen’s awkward silence. The big man stared out his window and watched the city sweep past. “Thank you for your concern, Mr. Duquesne. I slipped
on a banana peel.”
“Hah!” laughed Duquesne. “That’s pretty good. How long since you’ve been in the States?”
“Several years,” replied Rotwang. “Well before we began our correspondence.” He was amused and confounded by the reality of this man, an aspiring Nazi, and American as
apple pie. “If I may ask, Mr. Duquesne…what drew you to the National Socialist Party?”
Duquesne gave a barking laugh and put his arm around the woman. “My wife joined the club, and I sort of got on board to support her. Turns out I liked it!” Rotwang smiled back. That
was neither his reason, nor his wife. If only they could keep lying to each other, they might get along very well. At least Duquesne had some wit, unlike the humorless stormtrooper babysitting
him.
“I would appreciate your respect regarding our nation and its purpose, Mr. Duquesne,” said Hagen, chewing out the words. “Your allegiance is not a joke to us.”
“How secure are you with Plus Ultra at present?” asked Rotwang, risking another change to a hopefully safer subject. “They must monitor your extracurricular
activities.”
Duquesne shook his head. “It’s sort of sad how far they are from noticing. Plus Ultra’s not what it was. Besides, they’re too busy with ‘the
reveal.’”
So he was an idealist. That made him relatable, if a little less interesting. Rotwang saw the hint of a disappointed child in the spy’s manly face. “What exactly is ‘the
reveal’?”
“It’s one of their over-dramatic project names. They’re going public. With everything. They told the rank and file just a few days ago.” Duquesne reached into his coat
pocket, pulled out an envelope, and tossed it into Rotwang’s lap. “Read it and weep.”
Rotwang opened the envelope with trepidation and removed the contents: a collection of photographs, each picture showing a page of a comic book. Rotwang sifted through the photos looking for one
thing in particular, and when he found it, his heart sank. By “everything,” Duquesne meant
everything
, including the biggest secret Rotwang had been keeping from the Nazis, the
secret Rotwang wanted to capture and keep for himself.
Hagen laughed. “Do you mean to tell me, Herr Duquesne, that you’ve been getting your Plus Ultra secrets from a children’s comic book?”
“It’s just a small part of a larger communications strategy,” said Duquesne. “Radio programs, magazines, books, a traveling exhibit. Orson even got Disney to make a
cartoon for them. It’s all set to roll out immediately, pending the results of the dress rehearsal.”
Rotwang put on his actor’s mask. “Commander Hagen is correct. I am certainly a man who believes that anything is possible, but most of the things described here are impossible.
Particle beam technology is a pipe dream. And parallel dimensions?! That’s just—”
“True. Absolutely true,” said Duquesne. “I’ve seen living proof. Ha! I work for her.”
“Her?” asked Hagen.
“Amelia Earhart. She’s one of them. The reports of her disappearance were all lies. Just a cover story to hide some adventure in this ‘other world.’ They’re doing
some contest this weekend to name it,” said Duquesne. “You didn’t know any of this, Doctor?”
“No,” said Rotwang. “There were rumors, of course. But I never believed them.”
“Unbelievable,” said Hagen softly. The square-minded soldier appeared to not just be stunned by these revelations, but defeated by them. “Herr Lohman must be told.”
“Why would I ever lie to you?” asked Rotwang, and winced, catching himself in a rookie mistake.
“I was talking about this Amelia Earhart business, not you,” said Hagen. “Herr Lohman must be told.” He
happen?” Rotwang smiled, enjoying Hagen’s awkward silence. The big man stared out his window and watched the city sweep past. “Thank you for your concern, Mr. Duquesne. I slipped
on a banana peel.”
“Hah!” laughed Duquesne. “That’s pretty good. How long since you’ve been in the States?”
“Several years,” replied Rotwang. “Well before we began our correspondence.” He was amused and confounded by the reality of this man, an aspiring Nazi, and American as
apple pie. “If I may ask, Mr. Duquesne…what drew you to the National Socialist Party?”
Duquesne gave a barking laugh and put his arm around the woman. “My wife joined the club, and I sort of got on board to support her. Turns out I liked it!” Rotwang smiled back. That
was neither his reason, nor his wife. If only they could keep lying to each other, they might get along very well. At least Duquesne had some wit, unlike the humorless stormtrooper babysitting
him.
“I would appreciate your respect regarding our nation and its purpose, Mr. Duquesne,” said Hagen, chewing out the words. “Your allegiance is not a joke to us.”
“How secure are you with Plus Ultra at present?” asked Rotwang, risking another change to a hopefully safer subject. “They must monitor your extracurricular
activities.”
Duquesne shook his head. “It’s sort of sad how far they are from noticing. Plus Ultra’s not what it was. Besides, they’re too busy with ‘the
reveal.’”
So he was an idealist. That made him relatable, if a little less interesting. Rotwang saw the hint of a disappointed child in the spy’s manly face. “What exactly is ‘the
reveal’?”
“It’s one of their over-dramatic project names. They’re going public. With everything. They told the rank and file just a few days ago.” Duquesne reached into his coat
pocket, pulled out an envelope, and tossed it into Rotwang’s lap. “Read it and weep.”
Rotwang opened the envelope with trepidation and removed the contents: a collection of photographs, each picture showing a page of a comic book. Rotwang sifted through the photos looking for one
thing in particular, and when he found it, his heart sank. By “everything,” Duquesne meant
everything
, including the biggest secret Rotwang had been keeping from the Nazis, the
secret Rotwang wanted to capture and keep for himself.
Hagen laughed. “Do you mean to tell me, Herr Duquesne, that you’ve been getting your Plus Ultra secrets from a children’s comic book?”
“It’s just a small part of a larger communications strategy,” said Duquesne. “Radio programs, magazines, books, a traveling exhibit. Orson even got Disney to make a
cartoon for them. It’s all set to roll out immediately, pending the results of the dress rehearsal.”
Rotwang put on his actor’s mask. “Commander Hagen is correct. I am certainly a man who believes that anything is possible, but most of the things described here are impossible.
Particle beam technology is a pipe dream. And parallel dimensions?! That’s just—”
“True. Absolutely true,” said Duquesne. “I’ve seen living proof. Ha! I work for her.”
“Her?” asked Hagen.
“Amelia Earhart. She’s one of them. The reports of her disappearance were all lies. Just a cover story to hide some adventure in this ‘other world.’ They’re doing
some contest this weekend to name it,” said Duquesne. “You didn’t know any of this, Doctor?”
“No,” said Rotwang. “There were rumors, of course. But I never believed them.”
“Unbelievable,” said Hagen softly. The square-minded soldier appeared to not just be stunned by these revelations, but defeated by them. “Herr Lohman must be told.”
“Why would I ever lie to you?” asked Rotwang, and winced, catching himself in a rookie mistake.
“I was talking about this Amelia Earhart business, not you,” said Hagen. “Herr Lohman must be told.” He
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