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21.
What happened also was that Major Gruen took her for rides on his horse. He appeared to be related to the Confessor by the same name, either a son or nephew. Why was she not tired, having worked all night? Major Gruen laughed at her question. "This is a form of sleep. No, you are not in your bed dreaming. We are giving you a little psychotropic help from our highly developed formulary so that your body thinks it is sleeping while in fact I am enjoying these rides in the park with you."
"Why?" she might dreamily ask, holding on to his strong, lean back (in thick wool green winter army uniform, with brown belts and dangling revolver) as they rode on the clatter-hoofed white battle horse through a park. The park was veiled in haze, with the sun trying to poke through like a lemon slice visible in icy water in a glass frosted with condensation. Trees stood about like fog-draped ghosts. Birds chirped hollowly. A woodpecker drilled distantly, in precise, punctuated rattles. Water dripped, spiders wove, birds fussed over nests, worms wriggled, mushrooms gave off their fungal breath, and the horse's nostrils snorted steam while his steel shoes clap-clap-clapped on gravel paths.
"Have you ever made the acquaintance of a Captain Alton Hedrock?" asked Major Gruen.
Tedda's eyes were half closed as she bounced almost painfully on the saddle. She felt the hard leather pressing into the softness between her legs. The slamming of her cheek against his hard spine was cushioned only by the thick olive-drab wool tunic he wore.
"If he contacts you, it is imperative that you let me know. Do you understand?"
"I don't know who you mean, but if anyone contacts me I will pass it along to you," she said in a slurry dreamy sleepy voice that seemed to be coming from someone detached from her. The horse cantered at a majestic pace of spaces and silences, slamming steel, clip-clop and clip-clip, echoing among the hills in the park, where foresters with their huge saws cut up fallen trees, sipped warm beer, and stopped to wave as the Major rode past. The Major waved to them, saluted them, called them by name, as if he were some feudal lord parading on his manor grounds.
This happened more than once.
One time, they dismounted and sat in the shadows of a huge tree. Its roots were very hard and gnarled and uncomfortable, but the moss between the roots was tender and thick. There they sat, and Major Gruen ran his hands along the planes and curves of her body while she tried weakly to push his hands away. "It's important for the fatherland to have your help," he said, "and just as important for you to understand how much I desire you." Gruen took her chin roughly in his fingers and forced her to look him in the eye. She did, with lolling eye and gag reflex making her choke. He said: "I wish you could understand that there is a fine line between treason and being duped, and you have been walking that line ever since Captain Hedrock of East Gotha walked into your life."
She stared at her tormentor with glossy eyes. "Hedrock, my husband." She remembered the beautiful man with the easy grin and small mustache, whom she loved. She did not know where that bit of nonsense came from but she felt the pain of Gruen's fingers tightening like a vise on her chin, and she saw the pain and rage in his eyes. His mouth opened and he gritted his teeth as if he wanted to maul her face with his mouth. From the crazy scintillation of his eyes, she believed Major Gruen to be capable of something like that. Luckily she passed out and woke in her bed, and the memory of his mushroom breath faded as she got up to brush her teeth.
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