During the final few hours the officer had supervised the crew as they pressurised the vessel’s voluminous fuel-tanks, the millions of litres of T-stoff and C-stoff within each condensing and pooling as they waited to be unleashed. The tanks containing these two chemicals, the T-stoff being concentrated hydrogen peroxide and the C-stoff being hydrazine hydrate in a solution of methyl alcohol, covered the entire rear-end of the vessel, their spherical structures, along with the countless cargo-containers and communication equipment, disfigured the clean straight lines of the ship’s frame. During the pressurising procedure, it was Mesler who felt the unease and fear that the operation entailed and not the Admiral or the SS officer. Perhaps this was a sensible precaution as the two chemicals when mixed would explode violently. It was this reaction that would initially power the giant vessel from the confines of the colony before the even more powerful, but less dangerous, ion-drive propulsion system kicked in and swept the Nazis away into the depths of space. If there was any mistake in this procedure, if these chemicals accidentally came into contact outside the confines of the cavernous combustion chamber in the engine room, it would spell disaster for the vessel.
All around Mesler the Odin’s crew stood around the spherical control room, its secondary lights bathing the technicians in a cold, blue light. A single column ringed with circular gantries ran through the centre of the room around which were fixed screens and monitors of various shapes and sizes. Some were switched on, their displays scrolling data, while others were blank or filled with hissing static, and every surface not covered by a visual display was adorned with dials, gauges, hand-wheels, buttons, switches and levers. Vein-like cables mingled with the equipment, their bio-mechanical roots heading to all parts of the ship. And despite the room’s modernity it still seemed strangely reminiscent of the control rooms of the legendary U-Boats of the 1940’s. Whether this was deliberate was open to debate.
Mesler, along with the Admiral and Stahl stood on the observation-deck that was housed at the pole of the command module. It looked down upon the rest of the control room and its myriad displays and gantries. Capping the deck was a clear glass roof, its convex shape displaying Titan in all its glory. Oak-leaf garlands were strung from the deck’s railings and a single Nazi standard was held above the expectant crew. Mesler gazed at the red, white and black flag, with its imperial eagle on top and the standard’s large name plate from which the word “Vanaheim” shone brightly. At the front of the party was the Odin’s chaplain, Lang. A silver swastika hung from his neck, its polished surface stark against his blood-red vestments. A set of watery blue eyes stood out from his puffy face. He seemed out of place amongst the technology. It appeared as if he was a throw-back, a caricature of a provincial schoolmaster from decades before. For a brief moment, just before he cleared his throat to speak, Lang, like Mesler, glanced at the unique Nazi standard. It, like all the standards used by the Nazis, had once been blessed by the holy blood-banner. He then lifted a corner of the flag and pressed it to his lips. He was now ready.
‘Today, our beloved Reich steps forth beyond the confines of our outer colonies and out into the mystery of the void beyond,’ Lang began. ‘The Reich personified by us, with this swastika banner riding high, will explore these new territories and in the process create new lebensraum for our people as we press further into the magnificence provided for us by God. At the same time, the Überführer’s guiding hand will be on our shoulders, his spirit living in our hearts as we boldly bring the brilliance of German civilisation to those dark worlds.
‘We will tread the same path of previous pioneers who have left the Fatherland to destroy the scourge of Bolshevism and Judaism. Wherever we Germans have set foot, life has been renewed, peace has reigned, fields have flourished and culture has prospered because as it is written upon every one of our belt-buckle’s, it is also written in our hearts: God is with us.’ Lang then cupped his hands and bowed his head. ‘Let us pray.’
The Nazi congregation followed suit.
‘O Lord; we pray that you give your blessing to this great undertaking,’ he said. ‘We thank you for sending the Überführer to us. He who saved the German people from the evils of Bolshevism, Judaism and Christianity, and so we pray that his spirit is called forth once again to join us here on board this mighty vessel and that his wondrous aspect enters everyone of us; his holy spirit cleansing our hearts and cleansing our blood of all doubt and fear.’ The chaplain continued. ‘We pray that the land we occupy will be fertile, its soil productive and life-giving, and we have faith that thy mighty sword and shield will protect us during our long slumber and then on our new world. Finally we pray for our Führer who, in his great wisdom, conceived this great endeavour . Hear our prayers, O Lord. Amen.’
Every right arm in the chamber swung up and a great click of heels preceded a mass “Sieg Heil!”
A door parted to expose a dark set of stairs, but as far as Gigolo and Erik were concerned this short flight of steps led to hell itself because they knew full well what lay beyond. It was the colony’s dreaded gas chamber.
As the prisoners stood there was no resistance, no shouts of defiance, only a silent, almost dignified silence. Any pleas for mercy or clemency they would have made would have been futile because there were no guards to listen. Outside this final chamber were only uncaring pieces of machinery and control panels. The gas chamber was totally automated.
The process began.
A piston ground from the end of the holding-pit and gently nudged the prisoners down into the claustrophobic gas chamber until it was full to bursting point and ready to begin its grim job. A door then lowered with a sickening thud, its locks cranking into place while an impermeable rubber-seal inflated to make the chamber totally and ominously air-tight.
Inside the killing house the atmosphere soon became warm and dank, the air stagnant and saturated with sweat and the overpowering smell of fresh urine. Some men sobbed, while others offered prayers, but most of the prisoners maintained their silence. Amongst them stood Ruby. Her face battered and bruised and Gigolo, for his part, simply placed his arm around young Erik’s shoulder, closed his eyes and waited.
After a few moments, the chamber’s lights flickered then switched off completely, plunging the prisoners into total darkness as the deadly procedure automatically rolled into motion.
Vents set in the chamber’s low ceiling opened, their metal slats snapping apart with a loud series of cracks, then a distant turbine rumbled as it slowly powered up, its shrill metallic whine rising like the approach of some foul, nightmarish demon. Gigolo gazed up at these open vents and willed them to malfunction somehow and close, thus saving them from death, but the dispassionate machinery ignored his prayers and simply obeyed their programs unclouded by any pangs of guilt or pity. Directly above the chamber, the blue crystals of Zyklon-B that Gigolo and Erik along with Konrad had found in the belly of the shuttle started to drop from their hopper through an elaborate screw-feeder and into the ventilation system. Here, the Zyklon-B crystals dissolved to release its poisonous gas. For a time, the noxious fumes lingered in the cylindrical vent as if reluctant to perform its duty, but the power of the turbine-pump soon pushed the gas out the vents, the deadly vapour flooding the entire chamber. Sickening coughs, then horrific death rattles sounded as the poison gas started its job. Once inhaled, the poison smothered its victim’s red blood cells, stopping them from carrying the oxygen around the body. As a result, the prisoners’ lips, hands and feet quickly drained of colour, the skin turning a nauseating blue in the process as their bodies fought to stay alive by withdrawing blood from the limbs and into the vital organs, but the biological resistance would prove to be in vain as the turbines relentlessly pumped more and more gas inside.