One Thousand Years (27 page)

He
never saw anything clearly. But he felt memories of Blanding and
Donaldson with him in the Tiger. He remembered wanting to laugh at
Blanding's confusion over the presence of women aboard the ship. And
he remembered the rifle pointing at him after the initial scuffle
with Donaldson. The private's rifle had been pointing at his face,
strangely like the feeling when ground gunners were trying to shoot
his plane apart, missing the vitals, and then he remembered the bird.

The
image changed shape and color, forcing him to break the thought. He
felt Blanding's and Donaldson's comfortable presence again.
He remembered handing Donaldson the tool from the emergency kit.
For a split second, it felt good. That was part of his long-term plan to aid
men like Blanding and Donaldson to defeat the Nazis generations
hence. Then he remembered where he was, and he wondered how he could
have forgotten. He thought again of the ground gunners shooting at
him. That was a safe thing to think about. And then he forgot where
he was.

*

“Our landings in the Cherbourg-Harve area have failed to gain a satisfactory foothold and I have withdrawn the troops.
My decision to attack at this time and place was based upon the best information available.
The troops, the air and the Navy did all that bravery and devotion to duty could do.
If any blame or fault attaches to the attempt it is mine alone.”
—
General Dwight D. Eisenhower, (message prepared in the event that D-Day failed)

“He is awake.”

McHenry recognized Dr. Evers' voice before he opened his eyes. From
lighting, and the sterile quality of the air, he knew he was in the
infirmary again. When he did look around, he could see Dale and
Vinson there, too. “I was expecting you to execute me,”
he said.

“Almost
as bad,” said Dale. “We were thinking of keeping you in
deep sleep until we return to Berlin.”

“How
long have I been out?” McHenry looked down, seeing that he was
still wearing his Army uniform, but without the jacket. He knew that
his mind was clear. He wasn't feeling groggy like the first time he
awoke here.

“It
has been over two weeks,” said the doctor. “This ship is
leaving soon. The
Kommandant
thought you should be awake for
this. It is our last day over the Earth of your home time.”

“Last
day?” Feeling frantic, he saw his boots and jacket on another
bed beside him. He reached over for the jacket, slipped it on, and
checked everything was in place. He vaguely remembered the
questionless interrogation session, and avoided looking at the
pilot's wings on his uniform. He knew that he'd revealed handing the
future technology to Donaldson. He could assume they got it back.
But he had tried to forget that he and Donaldson had also exchanged
wings.
Had they been able to extract that?
he wondered. He
dared not think about it now.

“I
don't expect to be forgiven,” he said. “But I hope
you'll understand I did what I needed to do.”

“We
do understand,” said Dale. “We understand duty and
honor. I remember telling you, when you first tried to use the
escape pod, that we expected you to try. It's in your favor that you
didn't do anything stupid.”

“Anything
stupid?”

“Such
as firing on Berlin,” said Vinson.

“You're
right. I wasn't
that
stupid.”

“We
know about the device, Sam.” said Dale.

He
feigned a blank look.

“We
know you gave an advanced medical tool to your American comrade. The
robots had inventoried the Tiger, and they knew what was missing from
the medical kit you stole.” She smiled down at him. “It's
pretty clever. Setting things up so that the Americans have future
technology.”

“Yes,”
agreed Vinson. “They'd lose this war, but might win the cold
war that came later after we'd gone. But I am sorry to say that your
cleverness will cost you now. Your access throughout the ship may be
more restricted when we resume flight operations.”

“Resume?
You stopped?”

“Like
the doctor said,” said Dale. “We're pulling out. We
have what we need. There's no purpose in continuing to record a
history that we want no part of. The next step will be announced
after we're safely away in deep space.”

“Can
I assume that it's past D-Day?” he asked, putting his boots on.

“What
are you in such a hurry for?” asked Vinson. “You are not
still fighting the war.”

“I'd
still like to know.”

“You
just missed it,” said Dale. “It's the seventh of June.
The Allied commanding general just announced the invasion had failed.
Except for some artifacts of the alternate Grauen, history is mostly
progressing as it was expected.”

“Meaning?”

“Roosevelt
is in hospital. He won't survive the day.”

McHenry
closed his eyes. The reality hurt, no matter how much he'd known it
would happen.

“My
condolences,” offered the doctor.

“Mine
too,” added Vinson uncomfortably.

“And
mine as well,” said Dale. “We know that it is different
for you. It might have been better if we had kept you under until we
left your time.”

“No,
I appreciate you all waking me. I need to be up for this.”
Then, turning, he called, “Rechner,
Spiegel!”
The
nearest wall formed a mirror. McHenry looked at the fit of his
clothing, which was, of course, still perfect.

Dale
smiled, then nodded to Vinson and Dr. Evers. “With primitive
garments in the old times, people used mirrors to ensure their
clothing was straight.”

“It
is interesting how quickly he is readjusting back into our world,”
said the doctor.

“And
I still don't need a shave,” McHenry mused, feeling his face.
He resisted the urge to fidget nervously with his uniform.
The
plan might still work out.

*

“Herr
McHenry,” addressed the
Kommandant
. She looked down on
him, like a teacher addressing a student. “Welcome back to
your third chance at life. Do not throw this one away. There will
not be a fourth. As this is the Earth of your times, this departure
holds special significance for you. I thought it best that you had a
view from
Kontrolle
.”

“Thank
you, ma'am.” McHenry stood stiffly, momentarily at attention.
Vinson stood beside him and Dale, and then led them to a corner where
they could watch the action but stay out of the way.

They
were again back in the stationary orbit. The Earth was still
majestic, annotated with its grid marks of latitude and longitude,
and the markings on the background and foreground. But the view was
no longer incomprehensible, having learned what it all meant when he
trained to fly the Tiger.

That
training was coming in handy now. Although McHenry was not yet
proficient in German, he recognized many of the commands and
responses as comparable terms used with the Tiger. After a while, he
noticed the checklist was visible on a corner of the dome, each
item's color changing from red to green as they were counted off. He
wondered if he might have a better grasp of what was going on than
Dale did, but they stopped at one item he didn't recognize. It was
answered by one of the three other SS officers in
Kontrolle
.

“It's
about the satellites,” Dale whispered. “The SS needs to
report a full accounting of satellites. They're still doing an
inventory. We couldn't leave if we'd left something behind.
Initially, there's the risk that the Grauen could come across one
after we leave. Years later, when humanity advances technologically,
there's the risk that they'd find one.”

One
of the SS officers called approval, and the
Kommandant
restarted the countdown, following the checklist. All appeared
normal until, a minute later, an operator at one of the sensor
stations called an alert.

McHenry
stepped closer to Vinson and whispered. “Do you know what's
going on?”

“There
is something of interest on the surface.”

Another
crewman came to assist the operator while the
Kommandant
barked orders, and then called to her executive officer.

“We're
holding position,” Vinson translated.

“Only
for a little while,” said the
Kommandant
, in English.
She then stepped back from the sensor station and looked upward as a
tactical map was inset into the dome. McHenry recognized the English
Channel. Arrows were pointing to the region on the water.

“There's
something unusual about the water,” Vinson whispered.

It
somehow reminded McHenry of what Vinson had said before they left
Hawaii, that a few Tigers would be able to affect the weather. But
before he could give it too much thought, new symbols appeared in the
area. These were symbols that McHenry knew to mean the Grauen.

He
held his breath. Their proximity to the invasion beachhead could
only mean the Grauen were interested in the war, after all. Might
they be here to turn the war? Is it possible that his own
intervention had tipped off the Grauen? Maybe Donaldson and Blanding
had something to do with it. He wondered then what Blanding might
possibly have done after they left him with the Tiger, even after he
had agreed that contacting them would be dangerous — and well
above his authority. But it was not to be.

The
Kommandant
barked more orders. Weapons were readied. The
number of Grauen increased as they watched the indicator, now
understood to be surfacing from underwater. One frame on the left
side of the dome showed a Grauen ship doing just that. She spoke
again, and the dome center changed modes once more, now showing a
close-up view of the ships ascending. There were fifteen of them,
grouped together, but not evenly as in a military formation. They
appeared to be the old-style Grauen of the type McHenry had seen all
those months before. A call out from the sensor section confirmed
it. Whatever it was, this was the same generation of Grauen.

The
Kommandant
called out weapons.

“They
are planning a cover for Berlin,” Vinson whispered. “They
are referring to a contingency plan.”

They
watched as the senior officers deliberated, conferring with the SS
officers present, and then with Mtubo and Stern on the screen.

Dale
whispered, “The SS is confirming that the war was unaffected.
The Grauen had not directly interfered.”

The
display shifted focus a few times, but it was soon obvious the Grauen
were out of the atmosphere, passing deeper into space. They
subsequently disappeared, preceded by a tone that McHenry had learned
was a field wake alarm, which generally means they're going into
interstellar flight. The
Kommandant
said something in German,
and the displays went back to normal.

There
was another pause as everyone caught their breath.

“Now
we all see,” said McHenry.

“See what?” Vinson whispered.

“The invasion failed because the Grauen altered the weather. If not for
them, Germany would have lost the war.” He didn't say it
particularly loudly, but from the astonished silence that had
permeated the room, he knew that they all had heard.

*

“In South America, it is our mission to make the leadership of Argentina
not only possible but indisputable.... Hitler's fight in
peace and war will guide us. Alliances will be the next step. We
will get Bolivia and Chile. Then it will be easy to exert pressure
on Uruguay. These five nations will attract Brazil, due to its type
of government and its important group of Germans. Once Brazil has
fallen, the South American continent will be ours. Following the
German example, we will inculcate the masses with the necessary
military spirit.”
—
Juan Perón, Vice-President and War Minister of Argentina, (June 10, 1944)

“You were right, of course,” Dale admitted.
They were again in their regular alcove at an SS officers' mess on the fifth-level.
The mess was busier this time, but it wasn't crowded.

McHenry
looked up at her, not smug, but feeling something of a symbolic
victory beside the real defeat. “We would have won the war,”
he said.

“Perhaps,”
she said. She looked down at his smaller form, watching him cut the
steak. “We can't be certain about Roosevelt's health, of
course. The stresses of the defeat would not have been on him. But
something else would have gotten to him. He would not have lasted
another year.”

“But
another year is more than enough. And, after a victory across the
channel, Wallace would not have given up the war.”

“Quite
true. And Roosevelt might have lived long enough to begin the next
presidential term.”

McHenry
shook his head. “I don't think he would be running for a
fourth term, especially if you say he has health problems.”

“If
they can hide the fact that he's in a wheelchair, they can hide
anything. The system would have run him until he's dead.”

He
laughed, not taking the bait. “You're always thinking
democracy is a cover for conspiracies. You were so sure of your
mathematical history but you can't predict whether Roosevelt would
have lived through his term.”

She laughed, too, but more deviously. “Maybe you've heard the
phrase, ‘the map is not the territory.’
In the sense that we're mapping history, our maps are much, much
closer to the territory. They're good — really, really, really
good — but they're not one hundred percent.
We can only calculate the probability that, had Roosevelt lived,
but the invasion still lost,
he would still have been compelled to end the war.
The English were quite ready to dispose of Churchill.
That would have damaged the alliance.
But it's less certain.” Her expression grew more tense.
“And we never considered that the Grauen had plans of their
own.”