EXOSKELETON II: Tympanum (29 page)

7

Sunday, 31 May (8:36 a.m. EST – Antarctica)

“I’ve been shaking you for a full 30 seconds,” the young man said.

Daniel rubbed his eyes and stared up at him.
“We’re approaching the tunnel.”

Daniel looked at his watch. He’d been asleep for eight hours, which was twice that of most nights. He rolled out of his bunk, dressed, and realized he had no idea where he was supposed to go. He walked out of his quarters and the sailor was waiting for him.

He followed the man through narrow walkways and up steep steps to a room filled with electronics and visual displays. Captain McHenry, Horace, and Sylvia were already there and staring at one of many monitors suspended from the ceiling.

McHenry spotted him and waved him over. “One of the dead subs,” he said, nodding to a monitors. “A German U-boat.”

He’d already known about the sub, but it was surreal to actually see it.

“It’s intriguing,” McHenry said. “The American sub further up the tunnel is the SS-193
Swordfish
.”

Daniel thought it was even more interesting that the U.S. had falsified the records of SS-193. It meant that, long ago, someone had known about the tunnel, and maybe the beacon. It could have been one of those secrets that was so well kept that it really did fade away. It was rare. People always talked – that is, if they didn’t die first. “We’ve been briefed on both,” Daniel said. “The German one is U-530. It was captured in Argentina, and eventually scuttled by the U.S. The
Swordfish
had supposedly been sunk by the Japanese in the Pacific.”

“The way I see it, there are two possibilities,” McHenry explained. “Either U-530 was not destroyed after its capture, which I seriously doubt, or the Germans made duplicates.”

It was an interesting idea, Daniel thought. One sub assigned to conventional war activities, while the other ran secret missions.

“How were these subs destroyed?” Sylvia asked.

“I could be wrong but, by the looks of them, the U-530 was scuttled and the
Swordfish
was sunk by torpedo.” McHenry said. He cleared his voice and changed tone. “I don’t think we should lollygag here,” he said. “The next checkpoint is about a day away – some structure in the tunnel for you to observe – and a few more places along the way. My orders are to get you to the base as soon as possible.”

“Agreed,” Horace said.

“You three should get to the mess hall and get some breakfast,” McHenry said, his suggestion sounding more like an order.

The last thing on Daniel’s mind was food. But he had to calm himself – the trip was going to take a few days. He decided he should pass the time by reading the mountain of information that had been scanned and loaded onto his computer.

He felt like he had as a kid just before Christmas – hardly able to concentrate on anything. His mind yearned for the information at the base. It was going to be the biggest challenge of his life and, as his subconscious somehow conveyed to him, the most important.

8

Tuesday, 2 June (2:55 p.m. EST)

It took three days, but Daniel had finally adjusted to the cramped quarters of the
North Dakota
. One thing he hadn’t anticipated was the smell: it was like that of an old locker room, bringing back unpleasant memories of his youth. Lieutenant Diggs had told him that the
North Dakota
, being new, smelled much better than older subs.

He was getting used to everything – even the food – and it gave him confidence. He thought that, when the mission was over and he got back to his normal life, simple trips to the grocery store would no longer cause him anxiety. His heart sank a little, however, when he realized it was only the beginning. He didn’t know what to expect once they got to the base, and wasn’t sure if he’d ever get back to normal life.

He, Sylvia, and Horace, passed the time reading files and discussing what they’d learned. They’d failed to make any new connections, but were confident they’d make progress once they got to the base. That there were files there from the infamous Dr. Mengele himself, and dated after the war had ended, made them all expectant. Maybe they’d unravel the entire mystery.

It was 3:01 p.m. when a crewman notified him that they were approaching the base. He met Sylvia and Horace in the control room where McHenry and members of the crew watched a video monitor. McHenry waved them over.

The tunnel opened into a gigantic cavern. The ceiling had two peculiar features. One was a manmade structure composed of six slips – three occupied by subs – and a set of large bay doors. A bank of observation windows lined the steep wall above the slips. The other feature was a large, smooth-looking area on the ceiling of the cavern. It was an opening to the surface, and must have looked like a small lake from the outside. McHenry informed them that the water in the cavern was both warmer than that of the rest of the tunnel, and brackish. Finley, the sonar operator, suggested that warm freshwater came from vents in the floor, about 1,000 meters below. The same was also responsible for the current they’d bucked all the way in from the fork.

Finley pinged the bay doors, and they opened slowly, like a coffin.

McHenry explained that the doors moved more quickly than they had the first time, probably because the power source that was used for this purpose was now fully charged since they’d energized the emergency grid during their first visit.

“I’m surprised they even opened the first time,” Sylvia said. “Any batteries would have been dead after seventy years, right?”

McHenry shook his head. “We don’t know – it’s something our engineers are going to look into. They suspect it’s some sort of capacitive storage, rather than a conventional chemical battery.” He chuckled. “We were a little confused when we were about to depart from the base the first time and the bay doors had closed beneath us. Turns out there’s a spring mechanism that closes them automatically.”

The
North Dakota
rose towards the now fully opened bay doors. Daniel examined the three Nazi subs sleeping in the slips as they passed. One was U-505. He pointed and said, “That one’s on display at the World War II museum in Chicago. It operated in the Atlantic.”

“Another duplicate,” McHenry said, shaking his head.

After 10 minutes of fine maneuvering, the
North Dakota
surfaced and docked. McHenry sent a scouting team out to secure the area. Next, a group of engineers energized the emergency power grid using the
North Dakota’s
power plant. Daniel was impressed that the sub could power the entire facility. This time they brought all of the equipment needed to construct a permanent electrical setup capable of powering everything – not just the emergency circuits. They’d stick with the submarine power; the old German generators, if they could even get them running, would be noisy and produce exhaust that would have to be filtered and expelled at the surface. The last thing they needed was a heat signature, or smoke, to reveal the location of the base.

An hour later, McHenry cleared them to go ashore
.

From the instant he emerged from the
North Dakota
, Daniel’s gut seemed to tie itself in knots. His eyes tracked to the large banner with the Red Falcon emblem on the far wall
.
It was time to find some answers.

The base could have been the eighth wonder of the word. It was hard to believe that it was the work of humans; it was as if it were carved out of solid stone. Its musty smell, reminiscent of wet cement, permeated his sinuses. His eyes adjusted to the now well-lit bay; Diggs informed him that the engineers had replaced most of the burnt bulbs in the light fixtures hanging from the 100-foot ceiling. The air swirled gently through the space.

Even though the entire crew wore sneakers, their work produced noises that echoed as if they were in a cathedral. The only other noises were that of the water slapping gently on the sides of the
North Dakota
, and the faint, 50 hertz hum of the electric lamps.

McHenry walked over. “I thought I’d give you the basic tour so that you can get a feel for the layout,” he said. “After that, you’ll be on your own.”

As they walked through the bay, McHenry explained how his engineers had configured the power grid. “We could run this whole place at full power for months on the
North Dakota’s
reactor, and not create a wisp of evidence on the outside that the place was in operation. We’ll still have to be careful of our heat signature, so space heating will be used sparingly.”

McHenry led the way, followed by Sylvia and Daniel. Horace lagged behind. They entered the wide, double doors directly below the Nazi banner, and proceeded down a wide corridor until they reached a steep staircase, which they climbed to a mezzanine level with many doors.

After five minutes of walking, they came to a door with German words stenciled on it:
Der Tod ist der Hirte der Menschheit
.

Daniel knew too little German to interpret it, so he turned to Sylvia, who stood frozen, staring at the phrase. “What does it say?” he asked.

Sylvia moved her lips, but there was no sound.

Horace walked up, looked at it, and spoke. “It says,
death is the shepherd of mankind
.”

The words sent a twisting chill up Daniel’s back. “What does
that
mean?” he asked.

“No idea,” Horace replied.

“Let’s go inside,” Daniel said to McHenry. He knew what was there from the pictures.

McHenry’s face turned solemn as he twisted the door’s heavy handle. The door squealed as he pushed it open.

They entered what looked like a mental ward. Doors lined both sides of a long room, with about 20 on each side, and one door on the far end, opposite the entrance.

McHenry led them to one on the right, opened it, and ushered them inside.

Daniel entered with wide eyes. It seemed different from the pictures. It was as if Mengele was in the room with them – he could almost see the monster at work.

A human skeleton was confined to a medieval cage-like device. Heavy electrical cables branched off from the various appendages – the head and extremities mostly, although some led to other places on the body. Electric motors and hand-operated levers were riddled throughout the structure. He knew exactly what the thing was: it was a crude Exoskeleton. It was nowhere near the level of sophistication of the modern device, but it had been
born
in this place.

“See the little pieces of bone,” McHenry said, pointing to the floor and then to the saw mounted on the arm of the Exoskeleton. “Looks like some kind of automated amputation mechanism.”

Sylvia walked closer and examined the one-inch pieces of bone. “It’s awful,” she said, but stepped closer.

At that instant, a heavy clunk boomed from somewhere overhead, and the control panel near the entrance sparked with white-hot electricity. Simultaneously, the saw on the Exoskeleton screamed to life and lowered through the nub of arm bone sticking out of a steel cuff that might have fit tightly around the bicep had there still been flesh. Sylvia screamed, and Daniel thought he had as well, although it might have only happened in his mind.

McHenry went to the control box and flipped switches. The saw wailed for a full 30 seconds before Daniel spotted a red button on the wall across from the Exoskeleton and pushed it. The saw powered down and coasted to a halt.

“They must be powering up the main circuits,” McHenry said, and seemed to smile in relief. “That’ll wake you up.”

Horace looked paler than usual, and Sylvia’s eyes were still as wide as soccer balls.

“How many of these things are there?” Daniel asked.

“About 40 rooms just like this, with minor variations” McHenry replied. “Examine those on your own later. Now let’s go to the library.”

They weaved their way through the complex, which McHenry explained had six levels above the submarine bay, extending into the cliff overseeing the lake. Teams from the
North Dakota
were still exploring, looking for exits to the surface, among other things.

After about ten minutes of walking and climbing stairs, they entered the brightly lit library. It smelled like the musty stacks in the old CIA archive where Daniel had done his first Omni research. The room was clean and the books looked to be in good shape. There seemed to be no humidity, despite the lower level being a submarine bay, and bugs weren’t a problem in Antarctica. So the books should have been well preserved, despite their age.

The large area rug that covered the rock floor was similar in design to the banner in the bay, although the colors had faded. Daniel had often wondered why the Nazis had gone to such great lengths to overplay symbolism: it must have taken a long time to weave a custom rug with the Red Falcon emblem in the center. They’d cut no corners. It was something that he found disturbing.

Over a dozen books were scattered about the table, many of which were open – some face down. He knew the bindings would be ruined after 70 years in such a state. It seemed like most were about ancient languages and semiology, written in a variety of modern languages. And he was sure that some would be considered rare, and quite valuable.

“Was this the way the table was when you found it?” Horace asked.

It was a good question. It would give them an idea of the last things the Nazis had been researching when they’d deserted the place – which seemed like it may have been in a hurry.

“We disturbed nothing,” McHenry said.

On the wall at the end of the room, closest to the table, was a large map. Daniel stepped closer and saw it was a map of the local area, including the tunnel and the base, although the details of the latter were missing. Various points were labeled in German, a few of which were repeated, nearly equally spaced, along the tunnel.

“What are these?” Daniel asked, pointing to the repeated points.

Horace squinted and spoke. “
Atemzug
: it means
breath
,” he said.

“My God, of course,” McHenry said. “We found them on the way back through the tunnel during our first trip. They’re ten-inch pipes with flanges on the ends.”

“What are they for?” Sylvia asked.

“The U-boats needed air,” McHenry explained. “They weren’t as sophisticated as modern subs – no air scrubbers. And they had diesel engines which also needed oxygen.”

“Interesting,” Horace added, “It also gave them more protection. Any sub pursuing them into this place would have to turn around before they ran out of air. The German subs, knowing there were vents ahead, could keep going.”

McHenry nodded. “We don’t have such a protection – now everyone has subs that can stay submerged for months.”

For a microsecond, Daniel thought he saw worry in McHenry’s face. It made him feel like they needed to get moving.

He noticed something on the wall to the left and adjacent to the map. He recognized it from the pictures – it was the print of the disc. The writing was completely foreign to him. “Do we have access to the original?” he asked, pointing to the canvas.

“We put it back in the vault room, exactly where we’d found it,” McHenry said. “Shall we go there?”

Daniel glanced to Horace and Sylvia. They both nodded, and they followed McHenry out of the library.

They walked for about five minutes. It was as if they were in the hall of a large office building, passing many doors on both sides. They turned a corner and McHenry stopped at one on the right.

“Here we go,” McHenry said and led them in.

The first thing Daniel noticed was the blown vault door, and was concerned that the contents had been damaged.

McHenry seemed to read his expression. “We were careful to contain the blast,” he explained. “If we’d had time, we might have done it another way. But, as you know, time is one thing we don’t have.”

McHenry opened a cabinet, revealing an object wrapped in cloth. He removed the cloth.

Daniel stepped closer. The stone was off-white with black, inset markings. It was unblemished in any way – no chips or scratches – and the script of the writing was flawless. “Same material as the beacon?”