“Then we're packing up.”
Part of him wanted to scout the whole island. Part of him wanted to bring the other chopper back here and do a full scan, hit every sector, and use thermal vision. But that was wrong, and it wasn't the mission. He had been letting his curiosity get the better of him, and that was dangerous. It was time to cut their losses and go.
The fact that two of his men had disappeared into the void (quite literally) would eat at him, but he'd have plenty of time to think about that later, say… when he was retired, resting in his own little beach house. He'd tell his superiors that Reiner's helo had disappeared and most likely crashed into the ocean. That was the truth. With radio communications down, that was the most likely scenario, and yet…
And yet.
It didn't feel like the truth. It didn't feel right.
“Vy, your radio still shot to shit?”
Christian put a hand to his ear and nodded. Still no ear-to-ear communication, not even short range. It wasn't the platform after all. It's those things, he thought. Here, on the middle of the island, they were still hamstrung.
Totally. Fucking. Strange.
Both Vy and the girl were staring at him, and he realized he'd been zoning. Jesus, it was time to go. He'd brought them all of the way out here with no way to get word back. He'd assumed the radios would start working once they had distanced themselves from The Aeschylus, but that had been a mistake.
“We're leaving.” He looked at Christian. “Did you find somewhere that might be of use?”
“It looks like they kept prisoners here. The prisoners' bunker locks from the outside.”
Mason grinned. Maybe not everything was bad luck.
The girl looked flustered. “So that's it? We're giving up? We're just going back? Sorry guys, we couldn't find your entire staff? You're acting like you don't care. Do you know that?” She was beginning to get that look in her eyes, the one that politicians had when they were listening to every word you said, but it just wasn't getting through. He didn't have to guess where she got it. And that look, as irritating as it was, would make the next five minutes a little easier.
“Just get your ass out the door, honey.”
“We're going to find them. We have to. I'm not giving up on those people.” And then, more quietly, “I'm not giving up on my father.”
When she turned, that's when Mason grabbed her by the hair and yanked back so hard her feet slipped out from under her.
Chapter 12: New Swabia
1
As The Adalgisa drifted towards the dock, Harald counted fifteen or twenty workers processing the morning's catch. A host of whale carcasses were being flensed and stripped even as new ones rolled in. A pair of men stood over one of the bodies, drilling into it with an enormous steel instrument. Another pair wheeled a dumpster full of viscera out of a warehouse door and towards the ocean. As if to scare trespassers, the single, enormous head of a sperm whale hung at the foot of the pier like a cannibal's trophy.
He heard a pair of boots and turned to see Jan egress from the wheelhouse. The man stopped next to the lieutenant and gazed over the landscape, as silent as always.
“The infrastructure is already in place,” Harald said. “These men can work here for weeks at a time. It's extraordinary, isn't it?”
The other man wrinkled his nose. “I worked in a slaughterhouse once when I was a teenager. I didn't care for it.”
Harald stared at him a moment, wondering what the hell that had to do with anything, but he let it go. After what he felt was an appropriate pause, he said, “Are the prisoners coming?”
“I can get them.”
“Yes. Yes, why don't you do that?”
Up the pier, he saw two figures appear from a side path and begin walking towards the boat. They were regular German army, and they were a welcome sight. The man in the lead raised a hand to his head in salute. Only, he wasn't a man at all, but a boy. He couldn't be older than eighteen or nineteen, his face covered with pimples. Harald could see the outline of a handmade crucifix hanging on his chest. The cross and the boy both radiated bucolic charm.
“Welcome to the island, sir,” he said.
“It's good to see a friendly face. What's your name, soldier?”
“Metzger, sir. Sergeant Linus Metzger. The man with me here is Doctor Gloeckner. We thought it would be prudent to bring him in case you had any difficulties on the journey. Did you?”
Harald paused, but only for the briefest of moments. “We lost two men en route, including our captain. Both men, I'm afraid, were buried at sea. The rest of us made it safely. I don't think we'll be needing a physician, at least not until we've had a chance to settle in.”
The two newcomers exchanged a glance but didn't offer protest.
“The effort is appreciated, nonetheless. Tell me, who do I have to thank for the reception?”
After a moment, the doctor spoke. Harald saw he was an older gentleman, his skin as cracked and wrinkled as white sandpaper. “Well sir, the S.S. has been put in charge. The commander, he just arrived a few days ahead of you.”
“What's his name, this commander?”
“Haven't you been briefed?”
“My orders were given as need-to-know.” The men looked at one another again, and Harald felt his irritation rise. “For God's sake, man. What's his name?”
At that moment, a third man appeared at the end of the pier. Tall and fit, he was decked from head to toe in Schutzstaffel black, his blond-gray hair slicked back with tonic. He walked towards them with the cold ease of a snake, his boots gliding along the deck. He stopped just in front of Jan. “Your name?”
“It's an honor, sir. My name is Sergeant Ja—”
“You will assume a straight posture when you address me, Sergeant.”
Jan straightened, looking flustered. “Sergeant Jan Eichmann. I am at your service, sir.”
“And you are the new lieutenant?” the man asked, turning.
“Oberleutnant Harald Dietrich, sir.” Harald had so many questions, but they all seemed to tumble up and stick in his throat. It wasn't the time to ask them yet, in any case.
The man continued to stare at the pair of them, giving every mole, every crevice, every line of their faces scrutiny. At last, he nodded as if satisfied. “My name is Höhere S.S. und Polizeiführer Schutzstaffel Commander Cornelius Richter, and I am in charge here. Welcome to the new colony, gentlemen. Welcome to New Swabia.”
2
Dominik huddled next to the girls in the back of the half-track. They were on their way inland now, his thoughts of freedom a distant memory. For all his feelings of helplessness, however, the island was still a wonder. The air carried a thousand bizarre smells. A thick mist hung in the sky, viscous and ethereal. Dominik looked to the ground and saw intermittent growths of saxicolous greenery sprouting from the gravel, as large and strange as everything else. His stomach growled, and he wondered if any of it would be edible. He thought not.
As they passed beyond an outcropping, a trio of dark birds passed overhead. They fluttered over them and landed on the water, squawking and fidgeting in foreign bird tongues. The girls, who had been quiet since their arrival, perked up. Zofia stood and looked over the edge of the truck, gawking at the bright blue eyes and the strange orange markings on their beaks. There should be dozens, Dominik thought, but they are so few. Where are the rest?