The Reich Device (2 page)

There was the sound of a zip opening, whistling, then the splash of warm, rank liquid on the soil. The stench of urine filled the grey man’s nostrils. Ignoring it, he reached for his knife. With luck the German would finish and wander off none the wiser.

‘Scheisse!’

Too late! The grey man lunged.

The German caught a flash of the blade as the grey man drove it home, deep into the soldier’s chest. Piling on top, he tried to silence the trooper as they fell to the floor.

‘Scheisse… ’ the German sentry cursed repeatedly through clenched teeth, gasping, snorting, tensing every muscle in his body and bucking up and down, trying with steely determination to rid himself of the vice-like arm around his throat. His head throbbed as panic started to set in.

‘Come on… come on… die, you bastard,’ hissed the grey man, steadying his grip and pulling hard under the German’s chin. He could feel the neck starting to stretch. Instinct took over as the grey man locked his legs around the German’s waist to get more purchase. ‘Jesus… come on… you big bugger… ’ He heaved harder, arching his back for good measure, holding on as waves of cramp flushed through his arm. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep the pressure up, but a final burst of effort gave the required result. The telltale
click-clack
sound announced the collapse of his victim’s windpipe.

The German went limp.

He kicked the corpse off, and silently cursed himself. How could he have been so stupid? He’d been all eyes on the Professor’s window and totally absorbed.

Not good enough!

Taking a piss in the bushes had cost the German his life. He conceded the point: he’d had to kill him. Secrecy was everything. Nobody could know he was here. The dead German marked a premature end to the night’s surveillance, but that was the nature of the game. You could never tell how things would go on any mission. He recovered the knife from the dead man’s chest and wiped it clean on the soldier’s lapel. He checked himself over. The mud was useful camouflage for now, but he would never pass as a civilian in daylight. Hopefully, the forming mist had muffled the sound of the struggle.

He checked his weapon and quickly scouted around the immediate undergrowth. Nothing else had been dropped – it was time to move off. He worked silently through the bushes. There was no point running the risk of bumping into any more German soldiers tonight. They would surely come looking for their missing comrade soon enough.

The grey man expertly worked his way across the campus, keeping to the undergrowth, pausing every now and then to allow yet another patrol to go past.

This was madness. Why so many soldiers in a place like this? It just didn’t make sense. But then, nothing in Germany made any sense right now. The whole country was a mess. After all, there was a new regime in town: the Nazis. To add to this screwed-up mission, he’d been dropped into a hot zone. Leipzig was a major showpiece for the Nazi propaganda machine. Most weekends there were parades, rallies and grand speeches. More to the point, wall-to-wall Nazis made surveillance difficult. Sooner or later his luck would run out – and when it did, the powers that be back home wouldn’t be mounting any rescue. He was on his own.

The main gate loomed out of the darkness. He settled down into cover, observing the scene. The two guys at the entrance looked bored. He smiled at the thought:
same old army the world over
. He’d done his share of square bashing. The sentries would have been on shift for some five hours now, and it was a fair bet their minds were focused on a warm billet and hot food, the local whorehouse, whatever – anything but stag duty. The nearest German sparked up a smoke and passed one to his friend.

Perfect timing.

The grey man made a short run across the lawn, and slammed into the wall on the far side. The rope was just where he had left it, concealed by the shrubs. A quick glance confirmed that the Fritz brothers were still enjoying their cigarettes. He took the strain on the rope and began pulling himself slowly, like some kind of mud-soaked praying mantis, onto the top of the wall. He stopped.

Still no Fritz.

Now was not the time to be spotted. Dropping off the top of the wall into the lap of another patrol would be bad news – after all there was a curfew on.

He listened hard and squinted into the mist, tensing his fingers to maintain a hold on the brickwork. He gingerly dropped down the wall, then kneeling to keep a low profile, he listened again.

Nothing.

He was good to go. With that, the grey man disappeared into the night.

P
rofessor Mayer pulled up the collar of his coat and held the leather satchel containing his precious papers tight against his chest. Hunched over, he struggled to keep the papers dry in the pouring rain. Lost in his thoughts, he trudged along the narrow cobbled street in the darkness. Miraculously, he had managed to get this far on foot from the University without bumping into any Brown Shirts. Surely his luck could not hold out? There was no excuse for being on the streets this late at night. What would he say if the Nazis stopped him? What would happen to his precious cargo?

A chill ran down his spine. He wasn’t made for this kind of excitement, but at least it wasn’t far to go to Einstein’s house.

He squinted through the gloom as he turned the corner into Einstein’s street. Nothing was out of the ordinary. It was just an unremarkable suburban street like any other in Leipzig. Fame had not yet driven Einstein from the comforts of a normal domestic life.

Mayer glanced up and down the road. Shadows played tricks in the torrential rain. A wave of adrenalin flushed his face crimson pink. It was all too much. He broke into a run for the last few metres, hastily dashing up the steps to the front door. Welcoming the relative darkness and cover of the porch, he thumped on the door, hoping that Einstein’s housekeeper would let him in.

‘Who is it?’ a timid voice whispered through a crack in the now open door.

‘It’s me, Gustav. I mean Gustav Mayer, I… I am sorry to disturb you so late, is the Professor home?’

‘Yes, yes, come in,’ came a soothing reply.

Mayer stepped into the hallway, thankful to be out of the rain, but still panting and flushed. He took off his coat.

Suspicious, but polite, the housekeeper dutifully hung up the coat. ‘I will see if the Professor is ready to receive you.’

‘No, no, I know my way… ’

Unable to contain himself, Mayer leapt up the stairs two at a time, bursting through the door into Einstein’s study.

‘Albert! Albert! I know it is late, but I must speak with you!’

‘Hello Gustav, what brings you here at this hour? What’s wrong? You look terrible my friend.’

With a strange mixture of excitement and concern, Mayer stood in the doorway for a few seconds trying to catch his breath, absently wiping the rain from his face.

‘Well, come in, sit down my friend.’ Einstein shifted a pile of papers, gesturing Mayer to the now vacant chair.

The two scientists sat staring at each other for a few seconds. The single oil lamp burning on the desk cast eerie shadows amongst the piles of documents around the room. Einstein leaned forward into the light. The crumpled sleeves of his threadbare tweed jacket contrasted with his neatly trimmed, thick, black moustache. His wiry dark hair seemed to randomly occupy his scalp.

Mayer finally broke the silence.

‘Albert! I have been working on something: a new theory! There is so much I want to tell you! My ideas, the University, and, and… ’

‘Slowly, slowly my friend… this sounds interesting, but take your time.’ Einstein scanned the worry lines on Mayer’s face. ‘Gustav, are you alright?’

‘Yes, well… I think so… actually… I… ’

Mayer straightened out his damp notes on the desk, and took a deep breath to gather his thoughts. This was it! Now there would be two men in the world who knew his extraordinary idea!
His
secret.

‘Albert, I… I need to tell you something important. It is potentially wonderful, but also it’s been a terrible burden… and playing on my mind.’

Einstein lifted an eyebrow.

Mayer continued. ‘Let me explain… ’ He grabbed a sheet of paper and pencil from the desk; he started sketching out his idea for Einstein. Mayer always found it easier to draw and think. It was an automatic habit, picked up after many years of mentoring students. The fact that his ‘student’ for this discussion was Professor Albert Einstein seemed irrelevant. The two men shared a ferocious appetite for knowledge.

‘Alright, we start with the Brownian motion of particles. Consider the random movement of particles that enables simple physical processes such as diffusion to occur… ’

Einstein nodded encouragement.

Mayer continued. ‘Then, we consider quantum theory: the idea that matter at the atomic level can have both mass, and at the same time, be an electromagnetic wave.’

Einstein nodded again as Mayer sketched away furiously on the notepaper.

‘Well, what if we add energy to these particles at the precise moment when the matter transformation occurs… ’ He scribbled a series of equations, even more intensely.

Einstein grunted his understanding, and leaned closer to the paper.

‘You see… these equations show that adding a small amount of energy will create a force… a huge force… and a monumental release of energy.’ Mayer looked at Einstein for approval.

Einstein scrutinised the maths. ‘Yes, I can see that you need to add some energy to start off the reaction, but I don’t understand… how do you get so much energy back?’

‘Quantum energy is the key… and the right materials with the right properties… ’

‘What materials?’

‘This… ’ Mayer made another cartoon showing a series of carbon atoms joined together to make a hexagonal ring.

‘A flat hexagon of carbon atoms? This chemistry is well known. You need to do something with these rings to make a bigger structure. Am I correct?’

Mayer smiled and made a new diagram of dozens of hexagons joined together like a sheet of atomic chicken wire.

‘I see, a high conductivity surface. Fascinating!’

‘That’s not all.’ Mayer picked up the sheet of paper and tore off the edges, then he curled the sides of the paper together to make a hollow ball. The hexagons decorated the outside, just like a soccer ball. Mayer held the ball up to the light.

‘Look at the arrangement of the atoms… stable, yet in a configuration that will make a tiny sphere with quantum properties. You see… a new material with the potential to create an unlimited supply of energy and unimaginable levels of force.’

‘The structure is very elegant, I agree,’ Einstein smiled then shook his head. ‘No, I’ve almost lost the thread, Gustav… in fact you’ve lost me. How do you manipulate the quantum properties of this material? This substance… whatever it is… how do you harness it to make such vast amounts of force?’ Einstein rubbed his chin, his brow furrowed.

‘It needs to be contained in a particular way with some clever but elegantly simple engineering.’ Mayer started another diagram. He drew a long cylindrical tube with carbon spheres on the inside.

‘I see… it’s an interesting technology… ’ Einstein pointed at the sketch, ‘What do you call this device?’

Mayer shrugged. ‘I haven’t got a name for it yet.’

‘How do you start it up?’

‘A standard power supply should do it, just like any other electric motor. The electricity cranks the engine – only this one has no moving parts, and it will run indefinitely renewing itself with its own particle energy.’

‘Remarkable… perpetual motion. How fast do you think it can go?’

Mayer opened his hands, palms uppermost. ‘I am not sure exactly, way beyond any propulsion systems we have now. Ten, to maybe… a hundred times the speed of sound. Probably more… ’

‘A hundred times! My God! A rocket with such a motor could reach escape velocity and go into space! A hundred times the speed of sound!’ Einstein made a quick piece of mental arithmetic. ‘That’s… Mars and back in… seventeen days!’ His jaw dropped for a few seconds, then he shook his head. ‘Gustav, are you sure? What’s your mathematical proof for this limitless energy and force?’

Mayer picked up a blank piece of paper, and hovered over it with his pen. ‘If I am right, then this explains the resulting phenomena… ’ Suddenly in full flow, Mayer threw several lines of fresh equations onto the page.

Einstein gasped – it was beautiful.

The housekeeper sat quietly on the stairs outside the study, and with one ear to the door, she listened intently. The extra income from the local Nazi Party officials was useful; easy money in these hard times and all for simply keeping a watching brief on Professor Einstein. The instructions were clear: report everything, no matter how trivial.

Words drifted through the door. Impossible words. Strange words: like diffusion, quantum and momentum. What did they mean? It didn’t matter. The tone of the voice and urgency of the conversation conveyed their importance. Her brow furrowed with intense concentration as she struggled to keep up with the muffled voices coming through the door. Fearful of her masters, she reached into her apron to find a piece of paper and a pencil. All she could do was write down what seemed like key phrases and dutifully pass the information on. After a few minutes, the crumpled paper was full. She thrust the precious scrap back into the apron, annoyed at herself for not bringing more notepaper. It was too late now to get more paper. The slightest creak on the stairs might give the game away; she would have to manage just by listening.

Mayer rubbed his forehead while tapping the pencil on the paper. He massaged his forehead again. ‘Albert, do you see the main steps in the logic? Do you agree that they are right?’

Einstein took the pencil and traced through the equations again, grunting and shaking his head at each checkpoint in the logic.

‘You see, it should work?’ Mayer looked at Einstein.

Einstein paused, absently sucking the top of the pencil while considering his reply. ‘Gustav, yes… yes, I believe it will work.’