Chapter 7 Chapter VII Headquarters

Dr. Eckert Nash, chief physician of the Albrecht Mine District, wrote a definite death report: Carl Bauer, No. 41902, age thirteen, suffered from inhalation of carbon dioxide while catching insects in Pit No. 228. And died of suffocation. In another report written by Engineer Moslem, equally clear and unambiguous, he pointed out the necessity of including in the ventilation system Area B on Plan No. 14, because of the slow flow of An imperceptible, toxic gas. Finally, the engineer specifically pointed out to the competent authorities that the foreman Lehrer and the first-class foundryman John Schwartz were devoted to their duties.

Eighty or ninety days later, when the young worker was picking up his badge at the gatehouse, he found a notice with his name on it hanging on a nail: "Schwartz must come to Gate A, Road A, the general manager's office at ten o'clock today. He must be neatly dressed." "At last! . . . " Marcel thought to himself, "they've been lingering, but they're here!" He now knew enough about Steel City's general organization, through small talk with his buddies and Sunday walks around Stalstadt, that he knew that gaining access to the headquarters building would not be an easy task.At this point, there are some fantastic legends.It is said that some daredevils tried to sneak into this restricted area by surprise, but never came back.Some said that the workers and staff working inside had to go through repeated inspections before entering, and had to solemnly swear that they would never reveal anything that happened there. Once they violated the oath, they would be executed by a secret court... There is an underground railway connected to the ring line... Some unknown visitors enter the restricted area by night train... Sometimes, high-level meetings are held inside, and some mysterious people are present at the meetings and participate in the discussions...

Marcel didn't quite believe all these descriptions, but he knew that the things they told them showed that one thing was certain: it was extremely difficult to get into the headquarters.Among the workers and friends he knew—iron miners, charcoal burners, smelters, blast furnace workers, captains of guards, carpenters, blacksmiths among them—no one stepped through Gate A. Therefore, he was both strongly curious and delighted to be there on time, and he soon understood that the place was heavily guarded. Monsieur Marcel was waiting there.Two men in gray uniforms with swords and pistols at their belts were in the porter's room.The concierge had two doors, like those of the nuns in the monastery who pass deliveries from outside, one to the outside and the other to the inside, never opened at the same time.

After the inspection and verification, Marcel saw the two guys in uniform take out a white cloth belt and cover his eyes tightly.Marcel didn't show the slightest surprise at this. The two men grabbed his arms from left to right, and carried him away without saying a word. After two or three thousand steps, up a flight of stairs, a door opened and closed again, and Marcel was allowed to remove the blindfold. He saw himself in a room very simply furnished, with only a few chairs, a blackboard, and a large drawing board with everything necessary for drawing.Light came in through some tall frosted glass windows.

Almost immediately two men dressed as college professors entered. "You've been mentioned as an exceptional person," one of them said. "We're going to be quizzing you soon for a possible placement in the design studio. Are you ready to answer our questions?" Marcel said modestly that he was ready to take the test. So the two examiners successively asked him some questions about chemistry, geometry and algebra.The young workers answered clearly and accurately, which satisfied them both very much.The pictures he drew with chalk on the blackboard are clear, natural and beautiful.The equations he wrote were arranged very tightly, and the spacing between each line was equal, like a phalanx of soldiers in an elite regiment.Among them, there was even a calculus problem. His method of proving it was so brilliant and novel that the two examiners were greatly surprised and asked him where he learned this solution.

"Learned in elementary school in my hometown Schaffhausen." "You look like a pretty good draftsman?" "That's my forte." "Education in Switzerland is really good!" said one examiner to another examiner... "We will give you two hours and ask you to draw this picture," he handed Marcel a very complicated and said, "If you draw well, you will get the following comment: fully qualified and outstanding. You will be admitted..." Marcel was left alone, and he began to concentrate on his drawing. Two hours later, when the two examiners came back, after seeing his drawing, they were full of praise, and added another sentence to the original comment: "We don't have a draftsman comparable to him."

The young worker was then held up again by the two men in gray uniforms, and after the same procedure—blindfolded—was taken to the general manager’s office. "You have been assigned to a drafting workshop belonging to the design office," the general manager said to him, "are you ready to accept the prescribed conditions?" "I don't know what the conditions are," Marcel said, "but I think they're acceptable." "The conditions are as follows: 1. You are not allowed to go out during the entire period of employment, unless you get special permission under extremely special circumstances; 2. The discipline here is the same as in the army. You must absolutely obey your superiors. Otherwise, the general will not engage in it. However, you enjoy the treatment as a junior officer in the army, and you can still be promoted to the highest military rank. Fourth, your correspondence must be reviewed by your immediate superior, and you are only allowed to communicate with your own family."

"In a word, I'm in prison," Marcel thought. However, he replied very simply: "I think these regulations are correct, and I am ready to accept them." "Okay. Hands up... swear... You are assigned to work as a draftsman in the fourth workshop... Your accommodation will be arranged for you. As for meals, there is a first-class canteen here... You didn't take it Bring your luggage?" "No, sir. I didn't know what I was called to do, so I left my luggage with my landlady." "Someone will fetch it for you, because you can't go out of this district anymore."

"It's a good thing my notes are written in code!" Marcel thought to himself, "otherwise, once discovered, it would be all over! . . . " In the evening Marcel settled down in a nice little room.The room was on the fifth floor of a building with a window facing a large courtyard.At this time, he can start to think about his new life. This new life was not as miserable as he had imagined at first.His companions—he had met them in the restaurant—were generally quiet and gentle, like all working people.In an attempt to amuse themselves (for life here is mechanically dull and uninteresting), some of them organized a band, which played every evening, and did well.There is a library and a reading room, so that they can get some valuable scientific spiritual food in very little spare time.There are also some special classes, which are taught by some first-class professors. Every staff member has to listen to them and take regular tests and exams.However, in this small environment, there is a lack of freedom and fresh air.It was a school, so to speak, strictly governed, and exclusively for grown-ups.Although these people are used to iron-like discipline, this atmosphere still makes them feel oppressed.

Throughout the winter, Marcel devoted himself to work.His hard work, the perfection of his design drawings, and his rapid progress in learning have won unanimous praise from all the teachers and judges. Therefore, within a short period of time, he has a small place in this group of hardworking people. famous.Everyone agrees that he is the most skilled, brightest and most creative draftsman.When encountering any difficulties, everyone went to him.Even his superiors approached him respectfully, if a little jealously. However, if this young man planned to touch the core secrets when he came to the design room, then he was wrong.

His life at the headquarters was enclosed within an area of ​​300 meters surrounded by iron fences.Intellectually, his activities can and should extend to the furthest branches of the metallurgical industry. In fact, his work was limited to making drawings of steam engines.He designed steam engines of various sizes and horsepower, which can be used in various industrial sectors and for various purposes. They can be used for warships and printing presses, but he can't get out of this business scope. He was tied tightly. Marcel has been in Area A for four months, but he doesn't know much about the work in Steel City than when he first came in.At best he had acquired some general knowledge of the institution.In this institution, for all his excellence, he was only a cog.What he understood was that at the center of the spider web formed by Stahlstad was the Bull Tower, like a kind of tower, overlooking all the surrounding buildings.He also knew—and had heard rumors at the restaurant—that Schultz's private house was under the Bull Tower.And the famous chamber of secrets is in the center of the tower.It is said that this arched building is fireproof, and the inside is like the shell of a low-board heavy gunship, covered with iron sheets, and equipped with steel doors with built-in locks, just like the secret room doors of the most heavily guarded bank.Moreover, it is generally believed that Mr. Schulz is working towards the completion of a formidable weapon of war, of unprecedented effectiveness, for the very soon German domination of the world. In order to be able to find out the secrets here, Marcel really spent a lot of brains and came up with strategies such as overturning the walls and entering the house, sneaking in under disguise.But he had to admit that these schemes were impossible to realize.These dark, massive walls, illuminated by spotlights at night and guarded by tried and tested sentries, were an insurmountable obstacle to all Marcel's efforts.Even if he finally breaks through a certain point of the city wall, what can he see?Just a small part, always a partial point, never see the whole picture! But that's okay.He made an oath that he would never give up until he achieved his goal, and he would definitely keep his oath.If he needed to hide for ten years, he would wait ten years.He will find out this secret one day!That day will surely come.Now, the city of France, a happy city, is changing with each passing day, and its various measures for the benefit of people bring benefits to all people without exception, and bring new hope to the downcast.Marcel knew very well that in the face of such a success as the Latin nation, Schulz was bound to be more determined to implement his threat plan.Steel City itself and the purpose of all its work is a testament to this. Several months passed like this. One day in March, Marcel was thinking about his oath a thousand times, when suddenly a guy in a gray uniform informed him that the general manager had something to say to him. "I have orders from Mr. Schultz," said the senior officer, "that I send him our best draftsman. That means you. Please pack your things and get ready for the inner courtyard. You have been promoted to Lieutenant." In this way, just when he felt that there was almost no hope of success, the logical and logical result of tenacious work provided him with the opportunity he had been thinking about day and night, day and night, to get in!Marcel was simply carried away, he couldn't restrain the joy in his heart, and the joy was beyond words. "I am delighted to be able to announce such good news to you," continued the general manager, "and I can only encourage you to persevere in the path you have followed so bravely. The brightest future awaits you. Work hard, sir .” After such a long test, Marcel finally vaguely saw the goal he swore to achieve! He packed all his clothes in the suitcase, followed the men in gray uniforms, and finally stepped into the last city wall.This last wall had only one gate, which opened towards the A-road. Marcel would have had to wait a long, long time before he could enter, but in an instant, he stepped in. He came under the inaccessible tower of the bull.Before that, he only vaguely saw its towering spire looming in the distant clouds. The scene before his eyes was simply beyond his expectations.You can imagine how a person who works in a noisy and ordinary European factory suddenly falls into the middle of a tropical virgin forest, how would he feel!It was such a surprise that Marcel felt in the center of Stahlstad. Besides, a primeval forest you can know from great writers, but Mr. Schultz's garden is the most delicate and pleasant garden you will ever see.In the garden, there are the tallest palm trees, the most dense banana trees, and the most plump cacti, forming a large area of ​​shade.Ivy wraps itself around tall eucalyptus trees in a majestic way, decking them in lush greenery, or hanging down like clouds of hair.The ground is covered with green grass.The pineapple is ripe, the pomegranate is red, and the orange is yellow.Hummingbirds and birds of paradise flit through the air, displaying their beautiful wings.Even the climate is the same as plants, it is tropical and warm. Marcel looked around, trying to find the glass greenhouse and heating equipment that caused this spectacle, but all he saw was the blue sky, and he was stunned for a long time. After a while, he remembered that not far from here, there was a coal mine that had been burning for many years, and then he realized that Mr. Schultz cleverly used this treasure house of geothermal heat, using some metal pipes to keep the air in the air all the time. warmth. However, even though the young Alsatian understood the whole story after this analysis, he was still dazzled by the verdant vegetation in front of him, and couldn't help taking a deep breath of the fragrance in the air with his nose.For six months, he hadn't seen a single plant or tree, and this time he had to make up for himself.He stepped up a gravel path on a gentle slope to a handsome marble staircase under a stately colonnade.Behind it rose a tall square building, like the base of a tower of bulls.Marcel found seven or eight servants in red uniforms and a doorman wearing a triangular cap and holding a halberd under the colonnade.He also saw some splendid brass candlesticks between the colonnades.As he climbed the stairs, he heard a faint roar, and he knew it was the underground train passing under his feet. After Marcel announced his name, he was immediately led into a hall like a real sculpture museum.He didn't have time to stop and watch. He passed a living room with gold decorations on a red background, then a living room with gold decorations on a black background, and came into a living room with gold decorations on a yellow background.The servant left him alone for five minutes before leading him into a resplendent office with gold decorations on a green background. Mr. Schultz sat among them, smoking a large clay pipe, with a glass of beer beside him, in this luxurious atmosphere, as if a patent leather boot had been stained with a little dirt. The Iron King didn't get up, didn't even raise his head, but simply asked coldly: "You are the draftsman?" "Yes, sir." "I've seen some of your blueprints. They're pretty good. Don't you just draw steam engines?" "They never asked me to do anything else." "Do you know anything about ballistics?" "I studied it with my own interest when I was free." This answer was exactly what Mr. Schultz wanted.Then he looked at his staff. "Well, how about you come and draw a cannon with me? . . . Let's see if you can do it! . . . Ah! It's going to be a little hard for you to take over Thorne's job. Thorne was fiddling with it this morning." Killed in a pack of dynamite! . . . The beast nearly blew us all up!" To be honest, the foul language that came out of Mr. Schultz's mouth does not seem to be annoying!

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