One Thousand Years (8 page)

McHenry's
breath caught. He understood that Vinson was being friendly, but his
own sense of duty picked up again. He needed to learn this so that,
perhaps one day soon, he might take a Tiger for real.
It wouldn't be a touch-and-go,
he hoped.
It would be a bombing
run.

“And
as you can see,” Vinson continued, “we can start the
flight anywhere. It could take hours to get to this point in the
landing sequence were this a real flight. Now, watch the angle.”

They
progressed steeply. McHenry would later learn the different types of
approaches, but this one was standard. Vinson would explain the
procedure while McHenry imagined, if he escapes, doing this for real.
But the dream fell apart when Berlin came into view. It was not the
Berlin of 1944. The Tiger was simulating the Berlin of 2968.

Even
from the distance, there was no doubting its majesty. Continuing the
approach, its myriad skyscrapers became visible.

“It's
beautiful,” McHenry gasped.

Only
then did Vinson recognize the nature of McHenry's amazement. “Oh,
I should have started with the flyover. I guess you were expecting
the twentieth-century version. The Tiger knows the current year but
its programming is not aware of the full situation, as it would be if on
a real mission. For security reasons, their memories are cleared
after each mission.”

They broke off the approach and did the flyover.
Later, they reset and did Paris and New York City
before simulating a return home to the
Göring
.

Göring
had not become visible until it blossomed into view less than two
kilometers away, at which point it filled the sky. Even then its
appearance had to be enhanced by the machine. This was the first
time McHenry had seen the outside hull of
Göring
—
a long cigar-shape surrounded in black netting.

“That
net is the reason we could not see it right away,” Vinson
explained. “The material format is called
unterkarbon
.
It distorts any light that passes through it.”

“So
that ship is invisible?” asked McHenry.

“From
a sufficient distance, yes. We think even the Grauen cannot see it.
The Tigers have them too. They extend outward, and then retract as
they're brought into the ship.”

McHenry
circled the ship for a second look. The black net was woven in a
geometric pattern formed out of triangles. He instinctively knew
that the geometry must be essential, but couldn't imagine how it may
work.

The
docking maneuver was easy. They simply ordered the rechner to take
it in. There was no discernible point where the netting was being
retracted. McHenry wondered whether the simulation skips that step,
or if the machine just handles it as smoothly as it does so much
else.

It
had been a long day, and Vinson had promised the doctor that McHenry
would get to bed early. He led the way out of the hangar, back into
the main part of the ship. McHenry had become accustomed to
zero-gravity, but was happy to be standing on a firm deck once again.

Once
there, the door to his room slid open. McHenry paused at the
entrance. “How does it know I'm going in there?”

“The
rechner makes judgments based upon which way you are going,”
Vinson answered. “It probably also watches what direction you
are looking at. And, of course, it knows that is your door.”

McHenry
was not comfortable with a machine that could know so much. “How
does it know which direction I'm looking at?”

Vinson
laughed. “The rechner can see and hear everything in the
ship.”

McHenry
pretended to laugh along with him, but he wasn't sure if that was
meant as a straight answer.

“If
you need to know anything, just call for the rechner.”

“Thanks.”

The
doors closed behind McHenry and he was alone for the first time that
day. Or as alone as he could be with a machine that could see and
hear everything he does.

“Rechner,”
he said. Then he stood there while trying to remember the word for
the window command.

After
a few seconds, a voice came out of the air. “Waiting.”

“Is
that you, machine?”

“Yes.
Waiting.” The rechner spoke with a slightly unhuman form of a
proper-sounding British accent.

“I
want to see the window again.”

The
window appeared in the wall. They were much higher now and the
curvature of the Earth was more pronounced. The ship seemed to be
moving too slowly to discern any motion.

“What
was the word for that?”

“Window.”

“No.
I mean, what was the German word for that?”

“
Fenster.”

He
sat down, stared out the window, and wondered what he would do next.

“Rechner,
what is going on down there right now?”

“Germany
is currently at war against an alliance of hostile nations. It is
night in Europe. Action has generally been postponed until morning
in all the major points of conflict.”

“Can
you see in the dark?”

The
ground seemed to become illuminated. It was suddenly like daytime.

“Wow!”
McHenry exclaimed. He could suddenly imagine new possibilities.
“Can you magnify the picture on the screen?”

“That
function is restricted.”

“Why?”

“Detailed
live event data is classified.”

Frustrated,
he felt like he had been thrust back to the reality of his situation.
He was a prisoner of war after all. After a few moments of thought,
he tried reasoning with the machine. “Why can you tell me what
is going on down there but not show me?”

“Analysis
of current events is retrieved from unclassified historical data.”

He
pondered that for a moment. “What you're saying is, the only
way you can tell me what's going on is by looking at your history
books?”

“That
is a correct analogy.”

McHenry
was intrigued. Their secrecy confirmed for him that, with a
telescopic view, the Nazis can tell so much more than they want him
to know. He leaned back in his chair, only momentarily stymied.
“Rechner,” he said, hoping to take a new tack. “Can
you tell me what will happen in the morning?”

“American
and British bombing campaigns will resume in Europe. Odessa will
fall to the Soviet Army. President Roosevelt begins a rest period.
Would you like detailed information?”

“No,
rechner. Thanks.” The possibility of finding out the future
repulsed him. This wasn't a parlor game or a carnival fortuneteller.
It was the realization that the world he knew, loved, hated,
suffered, and defended will come to a bitter defeat. He sat for a
long time contemplating what had become of him, his country, his
family and his friends. Most of all, he thought about how he might
escape from this place. And he wondered what Parker would do if he
were here.

Then
he did something he had not done since he was a child. He prayed a
silent prayer.

*

Oberführer
Klaus Mtubo stood by the full-wall view panel in his large private
office looking down over the Earth below. In moments of quiet
reflection, some men might prefer to relax beside a pastoral scene
from home. Not Mtubo. His view of the Earth was overlaid with a
Luftwaffe chart linked in with event data from the main watch room.
He was a man of duty. He served the
Führer
. Her
defense, and the defense of the Reich, always came first, even on
occasions when he chose to take a respite.

Helmut
Stern's chime sounded at the door.

“Enter,”
Mtubo commanded.

Stern
stepped in, looking uncharacteristically disturbed. “
Heil
Renard!
” he said
quickly. Mtubo acknowledged and returned the greeting, and Stern
waited until the door closed before relaxing his posture. Although
the two men were longtime friends, Stern always preserved the dignity
of his friend's superior rank when in the presence of others.

“You
will not believe this, Klaus,” he said. “I have the
finding.”

Mtubo
turned to the side and glanced at the project overview now on the
panel. Everything appeared in order. “Is this about the
Americaner's Grauen sighting?”

“Yes,”
said Stern. “This won't show on the main status boards until
it is checked against the plot. The reports are still preliminary.”

“Does
it show the Grauen?” asked Mtubo.

“Yes,
it does. It was indeed a Geier. We have tracked its entire flight
path. The satellite that recorded it would not have been analyzed
until May. We put in a rush order.”

“Good,”
said Mtubo. “What was the problem?”

“The
Geier was in the atmosphere thirty-two minutes. It did not actively
interfere with events. Then it went back into orbit before starting
its interstellar drive. There was no attempt to hide. I am certain
we would have seen it during a normal review.”

“And?”
Mtubo prodded, knowing his friend often takes too long to make a
point.

“Just
one more item before I get to the issue,” Stern promised.
“There were a number of eyewitnesses. Most were of the sort
whose occupations and subsequent lives would not be affected. We
believe their influence on events was negligible.” A time
chart was added to the panel.

Mtubo
looked at the chart while Stern went on.

“Do
you know what happened to the English intelligence officers that the
Americaner said he spoke to? They were killed at sea. The records
of his entry to the base were lost. The records of their request to
see him were also logged, and those logs were stored. But our
extrapolation posits them as discarded at the end of the war.”

Mtubo
started laughing a deep belly laugh. “Not surprising. You
know that the old English were always very naive about information.
They threw away everything that they in their worldview thought of as
unimportant. They were like the Americaners this way. If it was not
about money, it was not important to them.”

They both shared a laugh.

“But you had something else?” asked Mtubo.

“Yes.
We have collected more historical data than we had dreamed.
I would like to ask that we retain some of the larger satellites that we just
scheduled for shutdown.”

“We put these rules in place for a reason, Helmut.
Some of them were at your urging.”

“If
the mission needs to go a second time, it will need to evade this
first mission. The
Kommandant
says this is risky, and I
believe her.”

“If
we continue this level of progress, there will be no need for a
second pass.”

“Do
the best you can without the large satellites. There is too much at
risk.”

Stern
nodded. “We will make it work. Do not forget my initial
conclusion that history is unchanged. The fact remains that the
Americaner's day would not have ended the same way if he had never
seen that Grauen.”

Mtubo
turned to face the portrait of Adolf Hitler hanging in its customary
position beside that of Katrina Renard, the current
Führer
.
The proud image gave him some comfort now as he considered the
mysterious clockwork of nature that led great men and women to their
destiny.

*

“The liberty of the whole Earth depends on the outcome of this contest.”
—
The Negro Soldier, (film released April 10, 1944)

McHenry
awoke slumped in the chair, still wearing the clothes he had
been given the day before. The shirt and trousers had relaxed their
fit while he slept, making for a comfortable sleep. The Earth was
still below, outside the machine-generated window displayed before
him. The false illumination of the planet was now gone. Europe was
back in its cloudy daylight; and to the east he could see the Italian
peninsula. The skies were clear. The fighting must have resumed.
He was off to a late start.

After
a quick fifty pushups, he jumped into the small bathroom for a
shower. He squinted at the mirror image projected on the wall. It
was the first time he had looked at himself since his arrival. The
curious realization that he didn't need to shave and — judging
by the smooth appearance of his face — may never need to again,
startled him until he noticed his teeth. They had the gleaming white
shine that everyone else had. He looked closer. No more fillings.
No imperfections.
When did they get a chance to do that?
He
couldn't help but smile. He was already immortal, he guessed.

His
clothes were gone from the chair and a fresh suit lay on the open
dispenser drawer. It was another reminder of the endlessly
convenient future he would live in. He dressed again, and the blue
suit tightened after it was on him. The joy of his immortality was
suddenly gone. He was an
American soldier, he
admonished himself. He must find a way to resist.

He
stood and stretched, facing the wall with the emergency directions
placard and a hopeful smile formed upon his lips. The placard was
written in German but the diagrams of passageways were easy to
follow. Arrows traced the way down the hall and up a ladder to what
was obviously a spaceship's equivalent of a lifeboat. It was a way
out. Then as if to sanctify an escape attempt, the door opened the
instant McHenry looked at it.

The
corridor was empty. He walked down the hall until he reached a
corner, and entered the tube. His adjustment to zero-gravity was
quick this time. This was the same tube that led to the Tigers, but
he went downward about 200 feet to the end of the tube, pausing at
each floor to be sure no one would see him pass by.

A
thick hatch opened automatically at the end. The center of the seven
lifeboat hatches was directly before him. That one opened
automatically and rapidly closed again once he was inside.