Chapter 7

Alfred was indeed ready for me, with Jake listening in.

"Bert, please switch your thoughts to English. Make it easier for me to read you."

"Yes, Alfred, I will try to do that. Did you do any work on this feature at all? I shudder to think of the headache I'm going to get from it."

"No, I did not develop it any further. Remember, you chaps stopped me with your vetoes. If it cheers you up: I get those headaches too, every time I test it. Are you ready?"

Again it did not take long to extract everything he needed to know from my mind. He was stunned into silence till Jake broke the spell.

"Bert, this disaster is even bigger than our run-in with the CareWell crowd. The dangers we are facing here are enormous. For you, for Elise, that wretched woman, the girls, the man Helmut. If anyone of you breaks under the strain, you will all go down together. What on God's earth made you interfere? And why did you confront this Karla in that particularly brutal way? I wouldn't have expected that from you!"

"Hell, Jake, you are right. I know that now. Her continuous manipulations and lies made me furiously angry, I cracked. So sorry. – Why did I interfere, agree to assist? The daughters made me do it. Yet, they may be just as twisted already. I am not asking for help, Jake, it's directions I need.

"After this meltdown I started to think more about the bio-feedback. – No, Alfred, not your latest Beta version. – But what would happen if I stuck one of those little discs of yours behind my ear as well? Will it improve my reception or will it distort readings? What, if anything, will they read from me? My aim is to let them know about myself. I have to assure them of my sincerity, especially Karla. The means must remain secret of course. What do you think, my friends?"

My idea added a new dimension to this salvage operation. We tried to think of all the ramifications, which could develop. Surprisingly, it was Elise who decided the matter for us.

"I am for it. All your actions, everything you say, do or think, will have to be absolutely aboveboard. You dare not slip up even once. That will be your burden till this mess is cleaned up."

It was easy to see her reasoning. The family should be helped of course, but the mutual feedback would keep me on my toes. Alfred and Jake were quite relieved to hear her side.

"Yes, Bert, Elise is right. It should work both ways. Try and talk to her parents. They should help you to get a better understanding of what made Karla the way she is. Keep us in the loop. And take great care, my friends, both of you."

It was easy enough to get the address of her parents. On Tuesday I set out early and reached their modest old house in the small town with lots of mediaeval buildings, cloister, churches and such, in the late morning. They were about my age and not at all keen to listen to me, a stranger. When I mentioned that I was a friend of Karla's and wanted to talk about her, they closed up even more.

"There is nothing to tell about Karla. She has been married now for a long time, never comes to visit us, her parents, doesn't go to church. The Lord will make certain that she gets her dues at the end of her time."

Without a further word the door was slammed shut. No option but to leave. Just as I unlocked my car, a woman from across the road called out to me and motioned me to come over.

"Excuse me," she said haltingly. "I have very acute hearing and do think that you were enquiring about Karla. I am her aunt, the man who would not speak to you is my brother. Please come in, maybe I can help you."

She led the way into her equally humble house towards a comfortably furnished living room.

"Now, who are you and why do you go around asking about Karla?"

As outspoken as she was, I saw no need to mince words, certain necessary omissions notwithstanding, and told her name and reason for visiting.

"I am a former colleague. We met again accidentally. Karla is in the hospital right now. She suffered a breakdown and is treated for the symptoms of an as yet undefined ailment. Since she told me some of her problems, I try to help by finding out about her background. There may be something you know which might be of help."

I continued to give her an abridged version of the happenings so far, without telling too much of the inter-familiar struggles. She startled me by saying that she wasn't at all surprised to hear of Karla's problems, in fact had seen it coming for a long time.

"But we need something to drink if I am to tell you about her. Would you like some tea or coffee?"

"Coffee, please, if it is not too much trouble. Tea shall always be my last choice."

She laughed at that and told me that coffee would do for her as well. While she busied herself in the open kitchen she had me tell why Karla opened up to me. When told she had been my boss, she was surprised again, saying that she never considered Karla to have any management potential.

"Is it alright to call you Berthold? I am Kamilla, by the way. You see, to understand Karla you have to know about her parents.

"They are the most bigoted people you could fear to meet. Narrow-minded doesn't even come close. Their weird little church group takes the prize for being the exact opposite of the happy-clapper freaks we seem to grow by the bushel hereabouts. Thou shalt not do this, that or the other. Their lives are a rigid continuation of boring rituals at their dank chapel. Joyless days year in year out, since loose talk invites visits by Satan, alcohol is evil incarnate, newspapers, books, radio and television are lewd and lead to sin, no dancing whatsoever. The only book which they peruse with great zeal is their twisted version of the bible. A sorry pamphlet of no more than a couple of hundred pages, since everything their elders considered superfluous to the pure message of God has been expunged.

"In this stark atmosphere Karla had to grow up." Suddenly she gave an earthy chuckle. "I used to amuse myself by wondering how conception worked with them. Surely, with that crowd, there must be a sin hidden in the act as well.

"We have always lived close to each other, since both our houses came down to us from our parents. As often as possible, Karla would sneak over to me. I would tell her fairy tales, gave her books, played children's songs and later good music to her. And I always listened, held her when she had hurt herself or when she had been beaten for some minor infraction of their stupid rules. I did everything her mother should have done. I never had children of my own. My husband liked Karla as well, we even tried to adopt her. Her parents refused, with my brother screaming that we would lead her astray from her predetermined path."