It was from this bleak and colourless landscape that a dark smudge, at first, indistinct and distant, appeared. Stahl pulled up and watched as the smudge steadily transformed into a Volkswagen which rattled along the road that ran beside the river, swiftly passing the skeletal trees which lined the road, their pink summer blossom now long gone. The occupants of the car eventually spotted Stahl and the motor-car stopped, but its engine remained running for fear that if it was switched off it would never start again and the occupants would be stranded on the bleak road. The exhaust steamed into the air as the passenger-door opened and an official stepped out. Even at this distance Stahl saw that the man had pulled his overcoat up around his ears and his hat was perched low over his rat-like eyes. The official stepped off the road and trudged across the snowy field towards the Nazi and his horse. At the same time, Stahl pulled on the reins and wheeled the horse towards the approaching official. Eventually the two men met and stood facing each-other like two lonely pieces on a vast chessboard; one undoubtedly a knight, the other a lowly pawn.
‘Sturmbannführer Stahl?’ the official asked.
Stahl simply nodded from atop the horse.
‘I’ve been sent from Berlin to pass a message to you.’
‘It seems a long way to come to simply deliver a message. Have you never heard of telephones or e-mail?’ Stahl replied.
‘In normal circumstances the ministry I represent would employ such wonders of technology, but not today.’
This time Dragonfire replied for Stahl with a loud snort from its inflamed nostrils. Unperturbed, the official reached into his overcoat and held out a slim electronic-tablet. A wax seal dangled from the black device. This finally drew Stahl down from the horse’s saddle.
‘My companion and I have orders to escort you back to the aerodrome at Hitlerstadt and then accompany you on your journey thereafter,’ the official said between his chattering teeth.
Stahl carefully took the tablet and removed the seal. Removing the seal activated a scrolling message which appeared on the tablet’s screen.
As Stahl read, the official pointed to the waiting car. ‘Perhaps it would be more comfortable if you retired to the warmth of our car to read. It is bitterly cold out here.’
Stahl ignored him as he dismounted the horse to contemplate what the message said. He paced back and forth in front of the freezing bureaucrat who was handed Dragonfire’s slack reins by Stahl. The bewildered official held the leather straps as if the fate of world depended upon it.
‘The message says that all my duties and obligations out here are to be passed onto my deputy.’ Stahl looked at the official. ‘It’s a redundancy notice in other words.’
‘It’s not for me to say,’ the official struggled to say as he tried to keep Dragonfire under control.
‘I could always ignore you, but the message’s final line compels me to obey your pleasant request,’ Stahl said as he handed the tablet back to the official, exchanging it for the reins. ‘It is the will of the Führer.’
Stahl then stared wistfully across his now former snowbound estate. In the distance, smoke rose from the warm confines of his lodge. Inside, his servants, oblivious to his changed circumstances, had no doubt lit the fire in the entrance hall ready for his arrival back from his ride and be busy preparing lunch. Would they mourn his abrupt departure, or would they, as he suspected, quietly readjust to their changed circumstances and pledge their undying allegiance to his fortunate deputy. He gently patted Dragonfire, removed its bridle and the heavy leather saddle and dumped them into the snow. Stahl then gently slapped the horse, urging the animal away. But Dragonfire stood firm. The horse, unlike Stahl’s human slaves, was reluctant to leave its master’s side, but Stahl persisted, until eventually the horse turned and galloped into the distance as Stahl followed the official to the waiting car.
Once Stahl had arrived in Berlin following the plane journey from Hitlerstadt he had stared impassively out at the Reich’s capital as it passed by the car window. First, Stahl passed the Arch of Triumph with its walls adorned with the names of Germany’s war dead from not only the Great War of 1914 to 1918, but also the Second World War and the numerous campaigns fought in the East since the Nazi victory of 1943. In front of the giant arch, the car turned onto the 5km long Avenue of Splendours and the heart of the capital. Numerous government buildings such as the Ministry of War, the Nazi Party headquarters and the Propaganda Ministry, with their granite and marble façades and neo-classical columns, lined the wide boulevard. At this hour of the morning the car that carried Stahl had the avenue all to itself, and so, its scale and grandeur was only enhanced by the lonely vehicle as it sped northward. Eventually, the car turned alongside the Tiergarten, a great expanse of greenery amidst the grey concrete and granite, and stopped in front of Stahl’s destination, the Space Ministry.
The Space Ministry was housed in the impressive palace that had been built for Reichsmarshal Goering in the years after the war. The grand building reflected the extravagant nature of its first owner. Its design had been based upon the Emperor Nero’s great Golden House in ancient Rome, but this Teutonic copy of that building did not house any giant gold statues of Nero or its impressive lakes and gardens, nor the famous reception rooms perfumed with rose water, however, equally spectacular decorations lay within the Nazi building, which like its original owner displayed a confident, ostentatious view of the world. Huge golden statues depicting muscle-bound Aryan warriors vanquishing the twin dragons of Bolshevism and Judaism decorated the ministry’s grand entrance hall. Stahl and his escort passed beneath the colossal warriors and the hall’s newer additions that were more in keeping with the current tenant’s history. Statues of Adolf Bergmann, the first man in space; Hans Böhm, the first man on the moon and that of Otto Richter, Stahl’s childhood hero and the first man to set foot on Mars, lined the hall’s walls. The statues stared into the distance, their helmets under their arms, their bulky space-suits streamlined and heroic. But one other decoration dominated the hall, a colossal stone swastika. This being the capital of the Third Reich, hundreds, if not thousands, of swastikas decorated every building, road, park and home in the city. But what made this adornment so unique was the fact that it was carved from red Martian rock, a gift from the first Nazi colonists on that planet.
Finally, after walking down a series of seemingly endless corridors, Stahl’s escort halted and gestured to him to enter an office. No name plate indicated who it belonged to, but once the heavy door swung open, he knew the office did-not belong to some common bureaucrat or official. Removing his cap, Stahl entered the office slowly. The door shut silently behind him as his escorts melted away.
Like the rest of the ministry, marble dominated the office, but in addition a large panoramic window filled the room’s exterior wall. It exposed the mist-shrouded skyline outside. He walked over to the window with his hands clasped behind his back and admired the view. As the sun rose into the morning sky, Berlin exposed itself. On the other side of the Tiergarten park, the Army Headquarters straddled the apex of the Avenue of Splendours. beyond which was the wide expanse of the Grand Plaza. The empty square, the scene of countless torchlight Party rallies, was now only populated by a flock of pigeons. Either side of the plaza stood the rebuilt Reichstag and the Führer’s palace. A series of black-clad SS guards stood motionless at the top of the palace steps, their robotic stares seemingly oblivious to the rising sun. And, of course, on the far side, beyond the palace and the parliament building, was the colossal Great Hall. Its four-hundred metre high dome slowly unveiled itself from the darkness as the morning light caressed its mammoth stonework and the golden Imperial eagle that capped the giant building. But one other monument dominated even the Great Hall. It stood beyond hall, its colossal silhouette towering far in the sky and dwarfing the surrounding buildings clustered at the foot of the giant plinth it stood upon. It was a statue of the Überführer himself, Adolf Hitler. The stone figure faced the rising sun and the empire with a look of determination.