Dark Corners Written by Kristine Kathryn Rusch The fighting had been going on for days. Outbursts of gunfire—six German soldiers dead infront of the Gare dOrsay—a full-scale battle complete with barricades that the French loveso much near the Eiffel Tower. Solae had come to the surface because he heard the Resistance and the Germans had brokered atruce. The Resistance needed the time to organize to wait for the Allies to arrive. TheGermans who were beginning to understand that they could not hold Paris needed time to make aplan. Solae needed food so he had come to the only safe place he knew—a boulangerie on theBoulevard St. Germain. Most of the French were in hiding not waiting in bread lines and theGermans were at their posts. Hed thought he would be able to slip in and out unnoticed. He had been wrong. Solae ran across the boulevard a loaf of bread beneath his arm panic in his throat. He wasthinner than most so thin that if he turned sideways the less observant could not see him.But he could not turn now. The baker—a burly man who baked every morning for the Boche as ifthey were no different from the French he once served—was chasing Solae shouting at the topof his lungs: quotFoul boy Thiefquot Two storm troopers appeared from a kiosk holding ripped posters telling Parisians to rise upagainst the Boche. The troopers looked ready for battle. They had shiny boots and shinierguns—and their eyes that pale blue that the Boche seemed to worship