304, Adolph Hitler Strasse
     by Lavie Tidhar
When they came for Hershele Ostropol it was not at night but in the
middle of the afternoon, and they came quiet and with no warning,
with just a polite knock on the door. He had taken it to be the
postman, carrying a late delivery of one of his special magazines;
but the two who stood in the doorway wore no uniforms, and only
their eyes betrayed who, and what, they were.
They called him by his real name, which was Hanzi, but they knew
who he really was and he knew then that it was over; the
knowledge washed him in lethargy, and a sense of futility made him
open his hands as if in a shrug, his fat fingers opening limply, sweat
dampening his palms.

They had interrupted him writing, it was another one of his stories.
The computer was left switched on in his small study (Granddad's old
room), and his special books and magazines lay in plain view on the
desk.

He knew then that it was over; and he went with them without a
fight and let them steer him into the dark Mercedes that waited for
him, as he knew it would, outside.



How it began, how Hanzi Himmler first came to assume the identity
of Hershele Ostropol, he could hardly articulate. But it can be
pinpointed to two events that both happened close together: he
was given the new computer, and he caught his grandfather with a
prostitute.

The computer was a Bulgarian Pravetz. Along with the modem the
computer came with a small communications program and a list of
telephone numbers for several Bulletin Board Systems in and around
Berlin. The first time Hanzi connected to a BBS was late on the night
of his birthday, when his parents were sleeping and he had the
telephone line to himself. He dialed the first number on the list, and
found himself confronted with a colorful welcome screen.

On the BBS, Hanzi discovered that night, he could download small
programs, and text files and even code, and he could post messages
on the BBS which other people could then read. He chose his first
identity that night, his first login name. He wanted Nighthawk, but
ended up being Nighthawk1 as the first name was already taken.

Hanzi didn't care. He read the public posts, and he downloaded a
text file that contained a hundred and eleven dirty jokes and, more
importantly, he also downloaded a file containing the telephone
numbers of many other BBSs.

For him, it was a discovery. He felt like Ernst Schafer must have felt
on his expedition to Tibet to prove the origin of the Aryan race, as if
he too were an explorer in a new and mysterious land. He had found
a door to a new world, and everything was suddenly possible.

Everything... Granddad, Hauptabschnittsleiter Himmler, lived with his
son and daughter-in-law in the solitary room on the ground floor by
the garden. He was once a distinguished Head Section Leader, but
had retired many years back and now spent most of his time in his
room, unseen by his family. He was not a well man, and Hanzi knew
Herr and Frau Himmler worried about him.

Hanzi returned home early one day from school, with a sore throat
and a headache that buzzed little flies on the inside of his skull. His
parents were away, and Granddad should have been asleep in his
room. But he wasn't.