Copyright (C) 2013 Robby Garner
Chapter One: The Interrogators. 

His breath billowed out as a fog, while waiting for the train and trying
not to attract attention. The man at the Bern ticket counter had
apparently seen the newspapers recently, and Sven could feel the man
wanting to say something.

He thought it was better to slip away clean and try to get far enough away to make
a fresh start. What a relief to get on the train and have a drink in relative anonymity? 
But the train wasn't here yet. It would turn out to be on time.

He could hear the train approaching in the distance. The steam was visible in the
dark, with ample moonlight. Soon, he would be leaving this country, towards a
new place, and new possibilities.

As they boarded the train, people mingled for a while and settled down in their 
appointed seats and things began to settle down in general. There was time before 
departure for him to acquire a drink of scotch, and sequester himself at the bar, as 
the train began to rock back and forth as it started the journey onward.

After a long sip, he put the glass down. He patted himself on the back in reward of his 
cunning escape from the Bern Switzerland police.

The bartender returned, holding a newspaper, "You're Albert Einstein aren't you?"

"Who?" Sven was befuddled. 

"Einstein. You're that genius physicist aren't you?"

"Uh, yes. That's right. I didn't think I'd be recognized here. Could I see that?"

The bartender handed him the Swiss paper and another glass of scotch. "This one's on the 
house."

Sven read the article about Einstein, a Jewish patent office clerk who had written 
scientific papers about indirectly measuring the mass of molecules, had proposed that 
matter could be converted into energy, and other miracles of the human mind. The 
photograph was striking. Sven looked remarkably like him, even the hair. So that was 
what everyone was looking at. How could he take advantage of this? How lucky to have 
something like this fall into one's lap? He looked into the photo of the scientist and 
thought, "A man who doesn't like to take a bath."

The scenery rushed by as the train made its way for Hamburg. Sven was hoping to make his 
way to a cruise ship from there, and from there America. He was wondering what the 1933 
scenery would be like, running from his last endeavor, but he had to risk it because of 
his German passport.

He slept in his semi-private compartment, dreaming of New York, and the things he might 
do. The man in the upper berth fancied him, and his luggage had been defiled. Little did 
he know that he was being followed, and this man Einstein, had a price on his head.

Chapter 2
Germany

The sun rose before the train stopped in Hamburg. Sven was already awake, and drinking
coffee in the dining car. That man in the upper berth wouldn't leave him alone last night,
asking questions, wanting to know his travel plans etc. It was just dumb luck to get
stuck next to somebody who wanted to make conversation. He was a creepy English gentleman.
In America, Sven planned to start selling retirement plans to old pensioners, or perhaps 
find a wealthy widow to turn his charms on. He held the little bag close to him. That was 
his nest egg, and it had to last him until he could get something started in New York.

From Hamburg, he hoped to book a ship to New York. The transatlantic booking should be no
problem. He would travel 3rd class to save money, and as cold as it has been, staying
down below on the ship should be comfortable enough.

Disembarking the train, there was a rush of crowd that seemed to follow Sven to the exit.
He decided to get a cab, as the throng of people were all seeming to spread out in all 
directions from the train station. He could see the man from the upper berth, carrying
a small bag and coming towards him. The man had a moustache and a newspaper under his
arm.

A cab driver finally saw him, and he piled in with his suitcase and the satchel that he 
had been guarding all along that contained his seed money for America. The cab sped away
uneventfully, and he reached the pier. He bought his ticket and checked into the desk for
the steamer. He checked his suitcase and kept the satchel at his side, climbing the ramp
up to the ship.

Down below, he would share a stateroom with a couple of men from Belgium who spoke very
little German. Together with a few English phrases, they tried to make small talk. This 
went on until Sven politely got up to leave and find a restroom.

The passageway was crowded as Sven moved towards his destination. There were many 
people who seemed to look over their shoulder at him. He was being recognized as Einstein
everywhere he went.

He stopped at a hotdog stand and asked for the nearest restaurant, and they sent
him to a cafe on the upper deck. It was acceptable. He stopped at a news stand and bought
a Hamburg paper. Inside, to his horror, was a wanted poster of Albert Einstein with a 
price on his head. Apparently the Nazis called his work "Jewish Physics" and denounced 
him. He put his hat on, and made his way into the innards of the ship.

"That's just been in my head," he said, in deference to himself. Anyone would know that
I'm not really Albert Einstein. Anybody except the man who had been following him. 
Now he was on the ship. It was that creepy Englishman from the train!  Sven could see
him behind a large plant at the edge of the corridor.

"What to do? What to do," thought Sven. The newspaper had said, "Wanted, dead or alive, 
Albert Einstein." Sven had told the Englishman all about his plans once he got to America.
The man had everything he needed to keep following him.

Just as turned and was about to try and walk away when the lights went out and a scuffle
could be heard. A man screamed, followed by lots of other people screaming. After a few
minutes the lights came back on. The Englishman was slumped in the floor against the wall.
A pool of blood was oozing out into a pool in the floor. The woman was still screaming 
hysterically, as he scurried away like a rat in a sewer towards his stateroom. 

Sven leapt into the doorway of his room, nodded at his room mates and prepared for bed,
shaken, but not stirred beyond crawling in bed and falling asleep.