Frauleinstein

Chapter XI: Frauleinstein, Part III

Following a lovely dinner in the dining room, Dr. Pretorius led Fräulein Stein on a short tour of the above ground facility, designed to be a comfortable living space for Valeria Engel, as well as to provide space for offices and meeting rooms. They stopped in the music room, the centerpiece of which was a beautiful, black lacquered baby grand piano.

"I must say my dear, you look absolutely stunning this evening," said Dr. Pretorius as they crossed the threshold into the room, followed closely by Dieter and Friedrich.

"Uh, right. Thanks," Fräulein Stein replied uncomfortably. "I wish you'd stop saying that. I know it's supposed to be a compliment and everything, but for some reason it's just really weirding me out."

Nevertheless, the doctor's compliment was, if anything, an understatement. Fräulein Stein's hair was perfect; not a strand out of place. She had even managed to drape it across her forehead in such a way as to cover her enormous scar. Her makeup highlighted a soft and feminine face, bringing an innocent sparkle to her eyes, a youthful blush to her cheeks, and an inviting allure to her full red lips. She wore a sleeveless, floor-length ball gown of champagne-coloured silk organza. She was breathtaking in her beauty, like an elegant 1950s film star; a Grace Kelly or an Audrey Hepburn.

"You must forgive me for going on this way," apologized the doctor. "I just find it incredible that you were able to achieve this by yourself. When I left you just half an hour before dinner, you seemed at a loss about all things feminine. Yet now..."

Fräulein Stein blushed awkwardly. "Yeah, I just, you know, watched a couple videos and it mostly came together. I guess I'm sorta visually oriented. So what is this room?"

"This, my dear, is your music room," Pretorius answered. He led her to the piano and suggested, "Perhaps you would honour us by playing."

"Who, me?" asked the Fräulein, looking around in case maybe he actually meant someone else. "I can't play the piano."

"My dear, you are far too modest!" said the doctor. "It is well known that you are a concert-level pianist. Please, you must perform for us."

"No seriously," said the Fräulein, staring back into her distant memories. "I never got lessons. I remember my older sister took piano, and my mother wanted me to start. But I wouldn't sit still. I remember my father saying, 'girls are different and have better focus.' He said to my mother, 'Wait a few more years until he's ready.'"

Pretorius simply stared. Finally he said, "It is good to hear that some of your memories are returning. Even if they are... a little weird."

"I was also raised alone by my Austrian grandmother and never knew my parents," Fräulein Stein continued. "I remember that a girl in my class at school played piano for us one day, and when I got home I asked my grandmother if I could learn. And she told me that we couldn't afford a piano, or even lessons."

Pretorius whispered to Dieter and Friedrich, "Further interference from the host brain cell patches! We need to strengthen her true memories. Follow my lead."

Pretorius turned to the Fräulein once again. "Nonsense, my dear. I have sat in this very room and listened to you perform magnificently. Perhaps if I were to go first? I myself am not unfamiliar with the ivories."

Pretorius sat at the Steinway, shook out his hands pretentiously, then began to play as Fräulein Stein looked on. Unbeknownst to him, behind his back, the Fräulein's eyes widened...

and her pupils dilated. Flashes of electricity blazed like a tiny lightning storm within her eyes. Within her mind synapses fired, axons transmitted in sequence, neurons aligned...

"Rachmaninoff, Piano Concerto Number 3," said Dr. Pretorius. "I hope you don't mind, I skipped the introduction. This is one of my favorite parts," he added as he continued to play.

"He plays competently, but doesn't have any of the je ne sais quoi," Friedrich said quietly to Dieter.

"Oh, I also know a piano song!" said Dieter, crowding onto the piano bench beside the doctor. As Pretorius continued to play, Dieter attempted to 'follow his lead' by joining him with a rendition of 'Heart and Soul', one of the worst songs ever written for people who can't play the piano.

"I know a song too!" called out Friedrich as he joined in at the very end of the piano with 'Chopsticks', the other worst song ever written for other people who can't play the piano either.

The doctor's beautiful rendition of Rachmaninoff completely ruined, he angrily struck out at the offending hands on his piano keyboard.

"Stop it! B♭♫ Smash ♬! Stop it you fools! D♯♬Crash ♪! Stop it! G♮♪♫ Slam ♩!" Pretorius screamed as he struck at the hands and keys.

Dieter and Friedrich backed away, and the doctor regained his composure.

"My apologies for that – unbecoming outburst," he said as he stood and turned to Fräulein Stein. "Perhaps you would now favour us with your performance?"

Fräulein Stein walked past the doctor, seating herself at the piano in a sort of daze and began playing.

"Rachmaninoff, Piano Concerto Number 3," she said, beginning the piece at the exact place as the doctor. She played competently, hitting every note with the same precision as Pretorius had earlier.

Their first clue that something was going dreadfully wrong was when she seemed to lose control of her right hand, missing every note as if someone was crowding her and bumping her arm from the end of the piano. But then she screamed out:

"Stop it! B♭♫ Smash ♬! Stop it you fools! D♯♬Crash ♪! Stop it! G♮♪♫ Slam ♩!"

Fräulein Stein lifted her hands from the piano, and turned to the three men in the room. Fully returned to her usual self she smiled and asked, "Was that right?"

Doctor Pretorius and the two stooges looked on, stunned. She had perfectly reproduced every note the doctor had played, even the wrong ones. Even his outburst.

"That was weird," said Friedrich.

The doctor gave the henchmen a stern look and waved them both away. Turning to the Fräulein and assisting her to stand from the piano bench he said, "Yes, it was perfect. Beautifully played. But I'm thinking we should not stress you any further on your first day. Perhaps we should call it a night."

"Yes, I am feeling a bit tired," she replied.

The doctor escorted her back to her room, where Fräulein Stein prepared herself for bed. She slept peacefully the night through, and dreamed of a young boy raised from a toddler in America, and a young girl raised from an infant in Austria, and a young woman raised from the dead in a laboratory. When she woke the next morning she remembered none of it.

A/N: Finally, we meet Frauleinstein! I hope she lived up to expectations. Let me know what you think!