They traveled over a rouge marble floor. The click of their shoes echoed in the hallway. She opened a set of tall, oak-paneled doors. Seated at a table were two officers, both of whom Bruno recognized: Fritz Haber, a bald-headed man with pince-nez spectacles, and Otto Hahn, a mustached officer in his late thirties. Like Bruno, Otto was a chemist who’d been recruited by Haber. However, Otto’s duties included hunting for sites on both fronts for gas attacks.
“Bruno.” Haber stood and extended his hand.
Bruno, feeling surprised to be called by his first name, shook Haber’s hand. He greeted Otto.
“Celeste,” Haber said, turning to the woman. “Bring us something from the cellar to drink.”
The woman left, closing the doors behind her.
“You’re probably wondering why I’ve summoned you,” Haber said, taking a seat.
Bruno put down his leather case and sat. “I assume it’s about what happened at Hulluch.”
“Mishaps are part of war,” Haber said.
Otto nodded, appearing as if he’d experienced accidents with poison gas.
“A change in wind can be impossible to predict.” Haber adjusted his spectacles on the bridge of his nose. “And commanding officers, who are ignorant of science, can be quite difficult to persuade.”
Bruno’s shoulder muscles relaxed.
“I’ve summoned you to discuss a breakthrough in technology.”
Otto’s lips formed a smile.
“We’ve placed phosgene gas in artillery shells,” Haber said, grinning. “Otto successfully used the new shells at Verdun.”
“Poison shells?” Bruno asked.
“We no longer need to worry about the wind,” Otto said. “We can place gas anywhere we want.”
“What were the results in Verdun?” Bruno asked, uncertain if he wanted to know the answer.
“On June twenty-second, we gassed French artillery positions with phosgene shells,” Otto said. “We estimate between one and two thousand casualties.”
Haber placed his fingers together. “Your new assignment will be based in Lille. The phosgene shells will be transported here. You’ll be responsible for introducing the new weapons along the front, between Hulluch and Ypres.”
Bruno nodded.
Celeste entered the room with a bottle of wine and glasses. She poured drinks for the officers.
“Danke,” Bruno said.
Celeste’s green eyes met with Bruno, and she lowered her head. “Will there be anything else?”
Haber waved her off, and she left the room.
“To surpassing enemy technology and winning the war,” Haber said, raising his glass.
Bruno clinked his glass and sipped.The Allied forces will likely begin using their own poison shells in a matter of months.
“Our advancement will escalate casualties,” Otto said. “It’ll break the stalemate on the front.”
Haber swirled his drink. “Death is death, regardless of how it is inflicted.”
Bruno’s skin prickled. A flash of gassed bodies—mouths gaped and faces the color of plum—filled his head.
“I’ve recently spoken with yourvater,” Haber said.
