The Gemini Divergence (36 page)

*~*

In space, the Germans had repaired their
station, as well as completed the second, and started work on a
third even larger one.

Schwerig was in a meeting with his atomic
physicists, sharing his engineering ideas to improve their
reactors.

He felt that they needed to use a reserve of
compressed gas as an additional actuation system, and that having a
redundant control system, which did not rely on electricity or
gravity, would be a much needed new safeguard.

All of the engineers and physicist attending
were showing acceptance and agreement with Schwerig’s suggestions
when the door opened unexpectedly.

In walked General Kreutztrager along with two
generals directly from Bormann’s staff.

Schwerig stood to his feet and inquired, “To
what do I owe for this unexpected surprise, Herr Generals?”

Kreutztrager looked at Schwerig as a
messenger in great discomfort, “Führer Bormann is furious, and at
this moment he is directing his rage at you Oberst Schwerig.”

Schwerig looked shocked, but stood his
ground, “And for what reason am I to accept this scorn?”

“Bormann’s staff believes that if Von
Sterbenbach had not allowed the Peenemunde scientist to be
captured, then the Americans would never have been able to build
their Redstone rockets or the microwave weapon that they used to
disable our station.”

“But I was not privy to that plan until it
was already carried out.”

“Yes, but conveniently for you, any officer
that could corroborate your story is dead. The only fact remaining
is that you are the only surviving officer that can be connected to
that operation.”

An upset civilian scientist stood up shaking
his finger at Kreutztrager, “We’d all be dead if it weren’t for
Oberst Schwerig’s cool head and stern composure.”

Kreutztrager snapped back, “I’m not going to
put myself in a position to refute the new Führer.”

At that the entire room burst into
pandemonium, with every person in the room except Schwerig, reduced
to pointing and shouting.

As Schwerig looked around in disbelief at
grown men squabbling like two rival sports teams in a brawl, he
placed his fingers into his mouth and whistled extremely loud,
until there was silence.

He looked at Kreutztrager, “Herr General, as
usual, it seems that it has been left up to me alone to come up
with an explanation, and or a solution.

“Please inform Führer Bormann’s staff that I
will stand before them first thing in the morning with my
offering.”

Schwerig retreated to his quarters and poured
himself a drink.

He stood at his window, staring down at the
Earth and at the other stations under construction, still orbiting
with them as he thought; slowly sipping his drink.

Like a statue he poised, staring out unto
oblivion as he pondered a solution for his fate.

Turning away from the window, placing his
drink on a table, he then placed his hands together and stretched
as he smiled from ear to ear.

He thought to himself
, I will take it upon
myself to solicit a peace offering from the Americans.

Either he would be successful, or he would
fail. Either way he stood a better chance than just going to accept
his judgment

*~*

“Yes Mr. President, Oberst Schwerig contacted
me last night while I was on my home radio,” reported Lemay as he
sat in his office.

There were pictures and maps of Korea all
over his office, as well as engineering proposals for new aircraft
and weapons; the signs that Lemay had many more irons in the fire
than dealing with the ab terrestrial Nazis.

“Yes sir, they are extremely concerned about
our recent demonstrations. They are showing great interest in an
agreement.”

“It doesn’t sound like they want anything
more than for us to just turn a blind eye to them, and in return
for that, they are promising to put a stop to any more deliberate
appearances.”

“What do they mean… deliberate?”

“Well, they would still have to come and go
from space for life sustaining reasons... somebody might see them
then, but there would be no more shows, attacks or
demonstrations.”

“When?”

“Well they suggested meeting out in the open
desert on Holloman AFB. If you would like sir, I could arrange a
signatory party to greet them when they arrive?”

“You want to do it yourself this time? Oh
sir, no disrespect, but I believe that is out of the question, I
couldn’t allow the risk.”

“You feel blind sided because you delegated
the last surrender,” repeated Lemay to show understanding, “Yes
sir, you want to do it yourself this time. I understand sir, but
you’re the President, I don’t think that it is wise to put yourself
in their reach.”

“You don’t want to let them know that you
will be there.”

“That may work sir, but I still protest.”

*~*

Such an odd sight to see, a table and chairs
set up in the middle of the New Mexico desert. There was a
perimeter of soldiers observing, but the nearest person was
hundreds of yards away. It was a beautiful day, not quite spring,
so the desert was not in its worst of environments. There were
splotches of green vegetation throughout the valley that gave the
New Mexico desert the distinct appearance that separates it from
the rest of the American south west desert.

A small group of jeeps started to move toward
the table in procession, dropping off a handful of dignitaries.

As the jeeps retreated back to the
observation line, the men at the table looked at their watches and
sat in the chairs on one side and began scanning the skies along
the horizon, silently sitting and waiting.

Seated at the table were President
Eisenhower, General Lemay, Secretary of the Air Force Stuart
Symington and Volmer.

Lemay just trying to make conversation asked
Eisenhower, “So, Mr. President, aren’t you glad that you don’t have
to sit out here in your uniform anymore?”

Eisenhower looked back with a smile, “I still
kind of miss it, I wore it for most of my life; sometimes now, I
feel like I’m naked when I go out in public without it. I am glad,
though, that it is as nice of a day as it is.”

Lemay smiled in response to Eisenhower and
started to scan the line of soldiers, observing from the distance.
He saw some of them starting to point in the same direction, so he
turned to see what they were looking at as he said, “Gentlemen, I
believe the men see something. Our visitors may have arrived.”

They all looked in the same direction to
observe a group of five saucers approaching. There were two large
saucers and three smaller ones that flew around the larger ones as
if they were fighter escorts.

“What do you suppose they have the different
sizes for?” asked Eisenhower.

Lemay responded as he was looking through his
old field binoculars, “I imagine that the larger ones are
transports and the smaller ones are fighter escorts.”

He continued, “They haven’t changed their
modus operandi at all. They would always send fighter flights in
groups of three; they call them ‘Schwarms’. The Germans have always
had this fascination with the number three, and it permeates
everything in their society. Their music is 3/3, and their forks
have three prongs. Some say that the Holy Trinity developed from
the mating of Christianity with the First Reich, which the rest of
the world calls the Holy Roman Empire.”

The fighter saucers buzzed by as the larger
ones slowed down and began to circle the people at the table. The
fighter saucers positioned themselves in a strategic spots behind
the observation lines so that they may observe everything that was
going on in the valley as well.

Then, one of the larger transport saucers
started to slowly descend, extending its tripod landing gear as it
approached the ground.

Eisenhower chuckled, “It seems they have
three legs on their saucers as well.”

As they listened to the saucers motors wind
down, a platform, or ramp, lowered from the craft. After a moment,
three men emerged from the craft. It was Oberst Schwerig, Hauptman
Graff, and an unarmed enlisted guard to watch from behind. Graff
still walked and stood slightly behind and to the left of Schwerig
in perfect military protocol.

Schwerig approached the table smiling. He
gave Lemay an obligatory salute, which Lemay returned with some
hesitation, but Schwerig’s attention was obviously at the
President.

“President Eisenhower, what a pleasant
surprise. I had no idea that you would be here.”

“I apologize that I could not pre-announce my
presence, but you are a career military man, I am sure that you
understand why.”

“Yes, of course, but it is still a pleasant
surprise,” Schwerig turned to face Lemay, “Nice to finally meet you
as well, General Lemay. I am Oberst Schwerig.”

General Lemay acknowledged, “Oberst,” then he
turned to introduce the others, “Oberst Schwerig, this is Secretary
of the Air Force Symington and renowned scientist Dr. Otmar
Volmer.”

Schwerig recoiled in shock as his eyes grew
as large as marbles.

After he recomposed himself he put his hand
over his heart and said, “You will have to excuse me, Herr Volmer.
I am very aware of who you are. I seem to have had many instances
in my career when I just missed dispensing your fate to you.”

“Ya, I am very aware of that, Herr Oberst,
I’m sorry but I can not say that I am so glad to meet you, and
please call me Dr.”

Schwerig laughed and said, “Oh, Dr. Volmer,
you mustn’t hold a grudge against me, that was just business. It is
truly wonderful to finally meet you. I mean that, honestly.”

Then Schwerig suddenly looked as if he had
just realized something, “You must tell me, if you are still alive,
then whom have I introduced to the Holy Ghost back at White
Sands?”

“Your stoolie mole, Otto Hein,” snapped
Lemay.

Schwerig laughed again, “Oh, I guess that is
why the information stopped. I thought that you had discovered
him.”

“We did,” Lemay sarcastically responded,
“Lying on the ground with a nine millimeter parabellum round in his
chest… Your handy work, I take it?”

“Just another day at the office,” responded
Schwerig.

Eisenhower grimaced, then changed the
subject, “Tell me, Oberst Schwerig, is Hitler still alive?”

Schwerig turned to Eisenhower with a sudden
sour look in his face as he lowered his gaze and reported, “I am
sorry to say that our Führer Hitler has passed on.”

“How did he die?”

“He finally succumbed to the syphilis that he
contracted from some time during the First World War. The final
days were very sad, as he slowly started to lose his mind.”

“Who is in charge now?”

“Führer Bormann,” responded Schwerig.

Eisenhower recollected for a moment than
thought out loud, “I guess that should have been obvious. He was
the only one of Hitler’s close circle that we did not recover a
body for, or capture.”

Schwerig interjected, “Oh, Himmler got out as
well. Your forces discovered his body double. The double was not in
an enlisted uniform because it was Himmler trying to escape in
disguise, it was because your lines advanced too fast for the
double to arrive at the Führer Bunker and change into one of
Himmler’s uniforms in time.”

Eisenhower postulated, “Well, if Himmler was
still alive, I would have thought that he would have superseded
Hitler.

“No, I am sure that it may be surprising to
you Americans, but after we transitioned the Kriegsmariner and the
Luftwaffe into a single cohesive Raumsfahrtwaffe, the SS lost much
of its luster and influence. Many officers, such as myself, were
lucky to have prior service with the former services and were
fortunate enough to make the jump to the new Raumsfahrtwaffe.”

“So, Himmler is still alive?” assumed
Eisenhower.

“No, I’m afraid not. Bormann grew tired of
his continuous interference and killed Himmler in a fencing duel.
It was quite a spectacle. It seems that Himmler was not aware that
Skorzeny had been giving fencing lessons to Bormann for years.
Honestly, many of us were overjoyed to witness the demise of that
miserable little chicken farmer… Actually, soon after that, I
started taking lessons from Skorzeny myself.”

Eisenhower looked at Lemay for a reaction,
Lemay responded with a roll of his eyes.

Schwerig clapped his hands together and
rubbed them as he smiled and said, “Well gentlemen, why don’t we
get down to business. Have you brought the Accord with the terms
that General Lemay and I have discussed?

Out in the observation line, an unnamed major
viewing the meeting with a set of field glasses commented, “They
don’t look like contractor pilots,” as he was observing the men at
the table exchanging documents, and then signing them.

“What do you mean? What do they look like?”
inquired a subordinate officer standing next to the major. “They
are supposed to be contractor pilots demonstrating aircraft built
from captured German plans.”

“They are wearing uniforms that look sort of
like German uniforms, but they are the wrong color, and a little
different kind of cut.”

“Maybe it is just some sort of stupid
ceremonial pageantry.”

“Could be, but you should see what they look
like; I mean, their hair color and high cheek bones… They look
Nordic in appearance.”

“So… look how many people in America are
descendents of European ancestry.”

“I guess so… Still looks very weird, if you
ask me, and why has the President come out here to sit in the
desert to sign a contract. Can’t he have a Senator do that in some
Washington office?”

~~~**^**~~~