The Gemini Divergence (25 page)

Truman turned to the head of the new CIA and
asked, “I know that this may be a stretch, because before today I
never saw Antarctica as the hot bed of the cold war, but do you
have operatives with feet on the ground in Antarctica?”

The CIA Chief turned and answered, “Yes, Mr.
President, we do.”

“Really,” responded Truman in disbelief, “Why
Antarctica, there are nothing but scientists down there?”

“Yes Sir,” responded the CIA Chief, “Russian
scientists, English scientists, French scientists, etc. etc.
etc.

“We had to have someone there to see what
kind of science was being conducted.”

Truman asked, “Can you have your people on
the ground there check this out?”

“Yes Sir,” answered the CIA Chief, “I will
give the orders the minute I leave this meeting.”

~~~**^**~~~

The Cold
War / Antarctic Intruders

In the most seemingly unlikely place that
Schwerig could possibly be doing math calculations, was where the
Oberst was presently perched, sitting in a small crevice between
two rocks, on the precipice of a high granite cliff jutting out of
the snow. Overlooking a stunningly beautiful Antarctic valley
pass.

He was flipping through some drawings, taking
care not to get them wet, then folding them up neatly and
re-stowing them, gazing out over the valley every few seconds than
continuing with his work, using a slide rule for a calculator.

As usual for Schwerig, he had taken his new
rank and position very seriously.

He was meticulously planning for the New
Swabian’s exodus to space, making absolutely sure that every sub
system and safety device was tested, tried, and true.

When he once again took the usual gaze over
the valley, as he had been doing repetitiously for hours now,
something caught his eye.

He quickly started to put everything away as
he never really took his eyes away from what he was looking at for
more than a moment at a time.

After he was done stowing everything, he
unzipped his parka and pulled out a set of binoculars that was
hanging around his neck, under his coat.

He put them up to his eyes and surveyed the
valley in the area that he had noticed something.

Through his optics he could see two men
approaching on dog sleds upon the valley floor.

He put down the binoculars and reached behind
himself to pick up a Mauser that had been fitted with a larger than
normal issue scope.

He shouldered the weapon and peered through
the crosshairs, towards the intruders and waited for them to draw
nearer.

*~*

Burke and Page were two Antarctic scientists
that had been stationed at the new, hastily built, McMurdo Naval
Air Station.

They had been carrying on with their normal
day to day grind when they had received an urgent telegram that
there was something of immense scientific value that their
university financiers wanted them to check out immediately.

They both knew that the telegram was in fact
a coded message and the only thing on it that was factual, was the
map co-ordinates that they were to proceed towards… alone.

They put on a good show for their fellow
scientists, saying that it was a purse string order from eccentric
academic investors.

To justify themselves as well as get a laugh,
they told the others that they must put their real science aside to
pay the electric bill.

So they packed their survival gear and
arranged for a boat to take them, along with two dog teams and
sleds, to the Antarctic mainland.

They had been traveling long enough that they
had to stay one night in the cold already, and the new day was
going to be drawing to an end soon.

Of course day and night were only detectable
by watches since they were so geographically close to the South
Pole.

Because of their proximity to the Pole, they
had six months of light and six months of dark, and they were only
a week or so into the dawn of a six month day.

“How much farther do you think it is?” asked
Page.

“Whoa,” shouted Burke, as he stopped his team
and pulled out his map from his parka.

Page stopped his dog team as well then
dismounted, walking back towards Burke.

After gazing at the map and reconnoitering
with the terrain and compass, Burke said, “I think we only have
about 5 miles to go.”

“We need to find some place to stash the dogs
and continue on foot. We really have no way of knowing what we are
supposed to find. It may be something that we have to sneak up on,”
suggested Page.

“I know,” responded Burke reluctantly, “our
orders were vague, to say the least.”

“That’s an understatement. Do you think it’s
an encampment, or that it’s a crashed satellite or aircraft?”

“We won’t know until we get there. But we
have to assume that it is something that requires great
caution.”

“Well, let’s start looking for some place to
sleep, and we can walk to it in the morning,” suggested Page as he
started to turn to walk back to his sled.

Suddenly he heard a large thud, like the
sound of someone being punched, along with the sound of Burke
gasping like he got the wind knocked out of him.

As Page turned he could see the horror of
Burke falling from his sled into the already blood spattered
snow.

As Burke was falling, seemingly in slow
motion, towards the ground, Page then heard the report of the high
powered rifle, as well as the overture of echoes from the valley
walls.

Page instantly crouched down and scanned the
cliffs that surrounded them in completed terror, as he realized
that there was absolutely no place to hide from the onslaught.

He could see nothing.

In a moment of desperation, he stood up, to
start a hopeless dash across the snow, when he felt the blow.

As he started to fall to the ground his
vision began to get hazy as his taste buds notified him of the
salty taste of blood in his mouth.

He couldn’t tell when he finally hit the
snow, but he did hear the gunshot, and again the chorus of
echoes.

Sitting there gazing at the sky, he wondered,
what was next?

Would this be his resting place?

His family may never know what his final
fate was.

After a few moments he was shocked to see a
saucer rise above the rock cliff and hover out over the valley
towards him.

It circled the valley, as if to see if there
were others, then returned and circled the two lying in the
snow.

Page was mesmerized by the object, wondering
if it was a close to death delusion, but he watched just the same,
as the object descended and landed only a few yards from the two in
the snow.

The dogs obediently stayed, but were watching
the object as well.

As the saucer’s motors started to wind down,
a hatch opened and Schwerig climbed out.

He then pulled out the rifle and slung it
over his shoulder as he pulled his Luger out of its holster and
started to walk towards the men lying in the snow.

Schwerig started shooting the dogs, one by
one by one.

After he ran out of rounds he stopped,
reloaded without a single word and re-commenced firing at the dogs
until they all lay dead.

Page watched as the mystery gunman
re-holstered his luger and walked closer, pulling the rifle from
his shoulder.

Schwerig approached Burke first and prodded
him with the tip of his barrel to see if he was still alive.

There was no response so Schwerig kicked him
to be sure that he was dead.

After he was satisfied that the man was dead
he turned his attention to Page.

As Schwerig walked towards Page he could tell
that the he was alive because his approach was being watched by the
open eyes of the man lying in the snow.

As Schwerig got to Page he paused for a
moment in silence then jammed the barrel of his rifle into the open
wound on Page’s torso, causing immediate and unbearable pain.

Page screamed for mercy, writhing in pain, as
Schwerig shouted, at first in Russian, “Кто вы, (Who are you)?”

“Кто вас послал, (Who sent you)?”

Page pleaded, in English, “Please stop? I’ll
tell you anything.”

Schwerig removed the barrel and wiped the
blood from the rifle onto Page’s parka as he again interrogated,
but this time in English, “Who are you?”

“My name is Page. I am a scientist at the
American Navy’s McMurdo Air Station.”

“Why are you here?”

“I received a telegram to come to these map
coordinates and see what was there,” gasped Page as he tried to
remove the telegram from his parka.

Schwerig stepped on Page’s hand to prevent
him from reaching into his parka, in the event that Page was
actually reaching for a weapon.

He bent over and reached into Page’s parka
and retrieved the telegram, then stood back up, unfolding and
reading it.

After Schwerig had read it, he refolded it
and stuck it into his own pocket as he started to walk back towards
the saucer.

Page was wondering what Schwerig was up to as
he opened a hatch on the side of the craft and started pulling out
many wooden poles and throwing them onto the ground.

He watched in curiosity at first as Schwerig
grabbed one of the Poles and walked towards Burke’s lifeless
body.

Then the curiosity transformed into horror as
he watched Schwerig impale Burke and prop the pole up into the
snow, suspending Burke’s body into the air to be seen from anywhere
in the valley.

“What on Earth are you doing?” cried Page, as
he watched Schwerig silently proceed to impale and suspend all of
the dogs as well, sometimes multiple dogs to a pole.

He placed them all into a semi circle, meant
to instill terror into the hearts of any others that may try to
travel up this same valley to spy on New Swabia.

Page wondered what Schwerig was going to do
next.

Was he going to kill him now, or was he going
to take him away as a prisoner?

But Page finally gasped in utter terror as
Schwerig picked up the last pole and started to walk towards
him.

*~*

When Schwerig had arrived back at New Swabia,
and was walking away from his saucer, Sergeant Faust, from the
ground crew, yelled jokingly out to him in front of small crowd of
mechanics, “Hey, Oberst, What did you do with those wooden poles
that you had us load into your craft? Start a fire?”

Schwerig smiled as he answered, “No, I shoved
them all up some nosy American’s asses.”

The ground crew began to laugh at what they
thought was a sarcastic joke from the Oberst.

He continued the punch line with, “And their
little dogs too.”

*~*

Lemay was sitting in his office reading a
newspaper.

The drone of aircraft engines from the air
base didn’t even faze him anymore, as he tried to hold the paper
steady against the wind from the fan.

As he folded the paper over during his
orderly perusing of the entire periodical, something caught his
eye.

He immediately leaned forward and placed the
paper onto the desk, then flicked his ashes and rubbed his face
before he looked at it again, as if to see if he really just saw
what he thought the he had seen.

He then moved his eyes down and peered over
his hand, covering the bottom of his face in a thinking
position.

The article headline read, “Oak Ridge
Scientists on Duty in Antarctica - Lost- Feared dead.

~~~**^**~~~

The Cold War
/ The Trip To Space

Schwerig and Kreutztrager were being seated
into the passenger seats of one of their larger saucers; this one
being designed as a transport to ferry personal and supplies into
space.