At about the same moment that Kegel was entering the Countess's quarters downstairs, Hi, having ascended to the second floor, peeked down the corridor from the corner of the stairway landing. He saw that the sentry guarding Hitler's suite was the Schütze named Bingle with the dental hollow. Hi called him Bingle the Dingle. Hi stayed hidden for a few moments, thinking how best to handle him. Hi figured it wouldn't be hard. Surely Bingle would take a good bribe, and Hi had a doozy to offer.

Bingle was facing in the other direction as Hi emerged from the stairway. Turning, the Schütze suddenly became alert, questioningly watching as Hi, with that little spring in his gait, came walking toward him.

Hi stepped up to Bingle and smiled. "I guess the Führer's asleep," Hi whispered. The Nazi just stared without answering. Hi wondered at that moment if he was making a mistake, taking too big a chance to try to tap Hitler's plant. But he forged ahead. "How long have you been here?" Hi whispered amiably.

Bingle looked at his watch. "About four hours," he whispered.

"No. I mean how long in the jungle."

"I date back to day one of the first Neuanfang. Seven years."

"Seven years and still a Schütze?"

Bingle shrugged. "They say they need me where I am. What the hell, I've got centuries. That's why I signed up. I feel okay about it."

"Well, I'll tell you what," Hi said with a mischievous smile. "I can make you feel a lot better."

Bingle reared back from him slightly.

"No, you don't understand," Hi said. He proceeded to offer Bingle a regular supply of D.P.E., even telling him that Müller was in on the deal. The three of them would share the secret of the dragon's palm, enjoy its euphoriant nectar, non-addictive, as long as the plants would produce. Müller would get his that evening, Hi explained, but Hi would take care of Bingle soon after. All Bingle had to do was let Hi slip in while Hitler slept and get some of the dope. Hitler had the best plant, its D.P.E. would be out of this world.

Bingle frowned, thoughtfully pressing his tongue against the gap in his teeth. He could sure use some of that D.P.E. stuff. A continuous supply? Almost too good to be true. "What if the Führer wakes up," he asked, "while you're in there?"

Hi shrugged. "I'll tell him I couldn't sleep and was checking on the plants."

"And I let you in?"

"I pulled rank on you. I'll tell him that I told you the damn plant would die if I didn't see it today. Were you going to let the Führer's plant die?"

"No, I couldn't do that," Bingle said, still frowning.

"You see? There's no problem." Hi held up two crossed fingers in Bingle's face. "The Führer and I are like that." Smiling at Bingle, Hi eased open Hitler's door and went in, quietly closing it behind him.

Hitler was sleeping in his white pajamas in the open coffin. It was across the room from his desk. On the table near the center of the room was the magnificent red-flowered palm.

Hi regarded Hitler for a moment, with loathing. He thought about how nice, how easy it would be, if he had a hammer and stake, to go over and dispatch the bastard right then. But Hi was not on a suicide mission. His task was clearcut: eradicate these vermin, but get Eva, the Countess, the captives, and himself safely out. That meant patience for a little while longer. And not being discovered. Contrary to the spiel he gave Bingle, Hi still didn't know, as he stealthily proceeded to the table, what he'd say--as if anything could save him--should Hitler wake up. Hitler was no Bingle the Dingle, and Hi didn't even want to think about getting caught by the Führer.

The extraction went fine. Hitler slept, and the dragon's blood from the plant filled half the syringe. As Hi put the syringe back into his shirt, he felt confident that he had enough juice. For good measure he planned to tap, if he could, the Dracaena in the main hall, on his way out of Gebäude Ein. For extra good measure, he would hit the one in the Gebäude Zwei drink hall, just before getting back to his room. In his room he would wait for his return that night, with vials full of D.P.E., to Müller's Weinkellar. Müller was the one obstacle left.

Or so Hi thought.

As he started to turn from Hitler's Dracaena, Hi noticed that some extract residue had oozed from the hole left by the needle, and was trickling down the plant stem. Concerned, he wondered if other plants he had tapped did the same. If they did, he hoped no one had noticed. No one would know the red secretion's significance--but that was the trouble: some curious Nazi could ingest it prematurely and die, leaving Hi with some explaining to do about this previously unmentioned secretion.

Intending to find something to wipe off the stem with, Hi turned to look around--and was startled to see Kegel standing in the doorway, staring at him. Looking over Kegel's shoulder was hapless Bingle the Dingle, with terror in his slightly crossed eyes.