Obligatory disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters. Reviews appreciated!
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"And just put your address here so we can send the hospital bill. You can sort out insurance later once you have all your paperwork." The older nurse, Eliza, kindly says while gesturing at the last of the hospital forms.
"Thank you so much, for everything." Juliana's expression is courteous and she truly feels indebted. This woman's care slowly brought her back to this new world. Nurse Mahoney had even brought her some news papers from the week so Juliana could be "caught up" on current affairs. It is September in this world as well, meaning she traveled on the very same day.
"Take care of yourself, Miss Mills." Eliza adds, as she cuts the patient wristband off Juliana's arm.
"Have a good day, Nurse Mahoney."
Juliana leaves the hospital and finds herself in the lower east end of Manhattan. The hustle and bustle of the city is somewhat familiar from her time in the Reich, but everything in this world is brighter. There is more color, more signs and posters of musicals and movies, concerts and events held throughout New York. She wants to go to every museum, consume every work of art and eat every delicious smelling thing she walks by.
But she has work to do.
oOoOo
John Smith's new office is much the same as his previous one, only larger and even further up the largest building in New York.
"Reichsmarschall." Richard heils.
"Yes, Obergruppenführer Diels?" John inspects the man. Richard Diels has risen the ranks quickly, a decade or so younger than John. Smith's instincts tell him this man cannot be trusted, but he can be used.
"We've tracked some of the resistance whereabouts in Wyoming, sir. My men are heading out tomorrow." Richard looks proud of himself.
"Tomorrow may be too late." Smith raises an eyebrow, and leans forward to rest his folded hands on the desk. "Why the delay?" His questioning tone holds a threat.
Richard remembers himself, and stands straighter. "I'm sorry, sir. They will leave tonight."
"Good. Heil Himmler," John adds to end their conversation.
"Heil Himmler," Richard responds with a salute and retreats.
John finds himself concerned, eyes wandering out the window. He stands and looks over the city, scanning downtown Manhattan. He senses a presence suddenly. He turns, as if half expecting someone to be standing in his office. He closes his eyes, tells himself he is just tired and to focus on the task at hand.
The council will want a new Fuhrer if Himmler doesn't pull through. John's best guess was that Großadmiral Karl Dönitz would be next in line. He does not have the same rapport with Dönitz, which worries him.
And then there is Helen.
With everything else that has happened, he almost forgot about Helen, Jennifer, and Amy, little Amy. Emotion catches in his throat as he remembers his darling girls. He tries to remind himself he did everything, he does everything, for them. Even he is finding it harder and harder to believe that these days.
He clasps his wrists behind his back as he returns to the city. His countenance darkens as he has an idea.
oOoOo
Juliana couldn't find her. Being on the east coast and in New York, the first person who came to mind to find was Helen Smith. Even as the wife of a powerful Nazi, she was always kind to Julia Mills in their world.
She wondered if this was even the right world. How could she know? She just knows it is a world with a space-she either died or never existed here. The Man in the High Castle had told her that Trudy and her were like magnets pulling one another into worlds, so there is a chance Trudy is alive in this world.
She closes her eyes and rubs them, frustrated. If she can not find Helen, she is completely alone. She has no money, no resources, no connections. She is just floating, an inter-universal drifter.
Her side hurts when she laughs but she knows just how ridiculous it all sounds. She opens her eyes and knows what she has to do. She still has to find him after all. If he is in this world, she needs to find him. He is the one who can change everything.
She looks back at the book, scanning the names. There are three John Smiths living close by. One lives in a suburb, one in the Bronx and another in Manhattan. She figures starting close and working her way out would make the most sense. But if this John is the family man she saw a glimpse of in the films, she knows where to look first. Scribbling the address and phone number on a piece of paper, she continues to wonder what she will even say.
As Juliana finds a newspaper stand, she grabs a map. The man working the stand looks at her, expecting money. "I… I don't have any." Her eyes flutter down, then back to him. He looks gruff, uninterested in her sad stories. "Ten cents or leave."
She digs into her pockets. She knows she has nothing, Reichsmarschall John would have taken everything from her when she was captured in the tunnel in the other place, the other world.
Suddenly, she finds some bills in her pocket. She pulls them out. "Eliza..." she mutters, continuing to be thankful to that gracious woman, then looks at the man. He scoffs.
"Do you have change?" She hands him a wrinkled one dollar bill with George Washington on it. She wants to study the bill, but she needs to be on her way.
"Thank you." She whispers as she walks down the street to the nearest bus station.
She has $4.90 left, and hopes it will be enough to get her where she needs to go.
oOoOo
John Smith lay away on his side, staring at the empty space in his bed where Helen once slept. He knows he should miss her more than he does. But maybe, she was right. He is changing, he has been for a long time. He knows trying to protect Thomas may have been the last bit of the man he once wanted to be. Now, he has to be something else entirely. He has to be the Reichsmarschall. He has to keep things from falling further into chaos after an assassination attempt on their leader.
There is too much on his mind to get anymore real sleep. It's only 4 a.m., but he decides can get an early start at work. He can watch more films and lose himself in those realities.
There is a side room attached to his office where he can watch the films undisturbed. He first watches the one where he is fishing with Thomas again. He is wearing the most ridiculous fishers hat, one he remembers his father used to wear. Thomas suddenly tugs on his pull, realizing he has caught a big one and begins to struggle to reel it in. John, that John, cheers him on and encourages him. Together, they pull in a large trout.
The screen goes black and John pulls himself back to his world. He puts the film away and grabs another one he hasn't watched yet.
It begins, and there is a large crowd gathered in what he remembers as the Lincoln Memorial, now called The Victory Memorial and atop the tower is a large swastika. But in this film, none of that is there. There is a crowd gathering of all colors with signs and posters, proclaiming civil rights-racial freedom and equality for all.
His eyes narrow as the speaker steps forward. A black man? John wishes he could hear what propaganda this man spewed to get these crowds to believe such profound idiocy. He cocked his head to the side, watching as the man starts speaking with what is clear conviction. The film shows close up shots of the crowd, faces of young and old, men and women of all races crying, hugging, holding hands. He sees a young man in a wheelchair.
This is not a rally he is used to watching.
These people seem to admire this man, but they also seem to deeply care for one another. There is a solidarity built on something more than rhetoric. As John glowers at the screen, analyzing the faces, he thinks their expressions hold something unique-not the common admiration mixed with respectful fear of Hitler's zealous followers, but love.
John brings his finger to his lips lost in reflection.
The phone rings, and he slowly lifts himself up from his large leather chair. He strolls to the phone in his main office. "Reichsmarschall," he answers simply.
"Reichsmarschall Smith, It's Großadmiral Dönitz," the voice has a jovial quality to it, as if they were old friends.
"Großadmiral Dönitz, how can I help you?" His eyes become chips of emerald ice, waiting for a command he doesn't want to follow or intel that would be most disturbing.
"I hear you are compiling a list of the resistance members we have killed. I did not know your purpose when my office was contacted and so I called." The tone changes only a little with an air of intimidation lingering.
Smith has to make a decision. If Himmler dies, then Dönitz might be the new Fuhrer. If Himmler lives, revealing intel to Dönitz could be detrimental. John does not know who Himmler has revealed his secrets to.
"Großadmiral Dönitz, I can assure you there is nothing to worry about. Mostly, we believe some of the resistance may have faked their own deaths. We are simply verifying our victories and cleaning up any lingering mess," he reports trying to remain unreadable. John speaks as though he has assumed the Großadmiral called merely concerned about loose ends and rather than to gather intel. His voice stays even and without suspicion.
Dönitz sounds appeased, returning to a friendlier communication, "Of course, Reichsmarschall. If you need any assistance from the navy, please, let me know."
"That is kind of you, Großadmiral. If I need anything, I will call you. Heil Himmler."
"Heil Himmler," Dönitz hang up with the last syllable.
John returns the phone and stands, letting his hands slide into his pockets, his face knit with concern.
He hopes there is no reason to worry, that Himmler will pull through and his position will be secure. But then he remembers nothing is secure if Miss Crain can just hop back and forth between worlds with more resistance members. She could ruin everything he has worked for.
He whisks his leather trench coat from the closet and strides out of his office.
Perhaps a direct visit to the Intelligence Department will hurry things along.
oOoOo
Juliana decides a cab would be easier than a bus and she is able to flag one down. He is a kind, talkative man from Pakistan. She isn't totally sure where that is, and asks him all kinds of questions though she tries not to sound ignorant. She is able to piece together that when the Allies won, the British released their Indian colony and two countries formed, India and Pakistan. It sounds to Juliana like things have been tense between the two countries on and off, but this man doesn't seem to have any prejudices against Indians in the United States and begins to talk about the similarities and differences in cuisine.
Juliana finds it hard to believe everything is just so different and begins to think it might be worth grabbing a history book to not be a complete dolt.
Eventually, the driver turns down a small two lane street in a beautifully pristine neighborhood. Her breath catches a moment as it reflects some of the homes she recalls from the Reich. As she looks around, however, she sees USA flags up on some of the houses, one or two posters in windows about civil rights for all, and not a single swastika in sight.
As the cab begins to slow down, Juliana finds herself breathless again.
Thomas.
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