Ice Station Wolfenstein

Chapter 12

"For Christ's sake, why can't you just talk normally for once?" Professor Matlock was yelling at the top of his voice as Sam and Nina reentered the tent. They exchanged a brief, puzzled glance. Matlock and Alexandr were on their feet, a mug of coffee dashed to the ground between them. "All this nonsense about spirits and demons! Do you take this seriously, man? Do you? We are out here risking our lives, and we appear to be led by a lunatic!"

Jefferson Daniels stepped in and placed a calming hand on Matlock's shoulder, but it had exactly the opposite effect. Matlock shoved him off, though he did not have the physical strength to make much of an impression on his muscular friend. "Don't you try to defend him, Daniels!" Matlock shouted. "Can't you see this man for the dangerous imbecile he is? Surely you of all people realize the danger in being taken on a wild goose chase around the Antarctic by a man who is half-drunk most of the time?" With his Byronic white hair tousled and the bags under his eyes after a few nights of restless sleep, Professor Matlock looked quite mad himself as Jefferson attempted to restrain him gently.

"Mr. Matlock." Alexandr spoke softly, but at once all eyes were on him. "I appreciate that this is your first time in the Antarctic. I realize that to you, what I am doing must appear to be madness. When you have been here a little longer you will begin to see my reasons, you will learn that all have their ways to cope with this place. For me, it is more fun, more excitement to think of the storms and cold and perils of this place as gods and demons. For you, perhaps, this is not the case. But I do not insult your ways of handling things, and you will not insult mine. I do not question your expertise, and you will not question mine."

He looked straight into Matlock's wild eyes and walked toward him, then grasped the academic's hand in a firm grip. "I swear to you that I will get you home safely from this place. But for this you must trust me. What you are doing now, this is how madness starts. Do not give in to it. Do not trust it." Matlock cried out in alarm as he was dragged into a short, tight hug by Alexandr, who then turned his back and walked away, considering the matter ended.

Jefferson pulled Matlock over to the edge of the floor and made soothing, placatory noises while Matlock continued to mutter, obviously rattled by Alexandr's little speech. Sam sneaked a look around the rest of the tent. Many of the others were hunched, tense, and obviously not happy. Conflict in such a confined space could only lead to more. He looked around for Nina's deck of cards, thinking that perhaps a game would distract everyone. He wracked his brain for a game that could accommodate so many players, preferably one for which he knew the rules.

Before Sam could come up with anything, Dave Purdue clapped his hands together. "Oh, I've always wanted to say this," he chuckled, then cleared his throat and assumed a dramatic tone. "I expect you're wondering why I have brought you all here!"

"Did he really just say that?" Nina whispered. Sam nodded. He wondered what Purdue was playing at. Was this his way of defusing the tension?

Purdue clicked his fingers and Blomstein reached into his pack and took out a large, folded piece of paper. He handed it to Purdue, who unfolded it and spread it in front of him, beckoning the others to draw near and see it. "This," he flung his hands out theatrically, "is the reason we are here. Look at it."

Sam, Nina, and some of the others huddled around. What they saw was a map of Antarctica, with several points marked on it in Purdue's emphatic, sprawling handwriting. Novolazarevskaya, the old Neumayer stations, and the newly opened one that was their destination… and also a large cross with the word Wolfenstein beside it. Sam felt Nina's fingers close around his arm. "I never told him the name," she whispered urgently. "Did you?"

"What name?" Sam hissed back. "What's the matter?"

"I owe some of you an apology," Purdue peered around the group. "I have brought you here on — well, not false pretences as such, but certainly distorted ones. We all came here in search of something. Dr. al-Fayed for the algae, Mr. Daniels for his memoirs, Dr. Gould and Professor Matlock for evidence that a Nazi ice station was once established here, and Mr. Cleave for the obscene amount of money he was promised to profile me on this trip. But all those things are nothing compared to our true purpose. We are here in search… of legend."

He paused for dramatic effect, watching his little audience carefully and monitoring their response. Had he been playing to a fresh crowd he might have had greater success, but after their long confinement the group was too fractious to respond well. Mutters rippled around the room, questioning what Purdue was talking about. Undaunted, he continued.

"First I must tell you a story," he said, settling onto his rolled sleeping bag. "Some of you will be familiar with the tale of Captain Alfred Ritscher, will you not? Nina? Professor Matlock? Oh, even you, Mr. Daniels. That's good. For those who are not, the hero of our little story began his career as a mere cabin boy, flew reconnaissance flights during the First World War, and by 1934 was executive officer in command of the German Navy. There he was entrusted with a very particular task by Herr Goering himself — to lead an expedition to the Antarctic, claim New Schwabenland for the Fatherland, and chart this desolate terrain so that it could be colonized.

"In 1938 he made an extensive aerial survey — the planes were brought from Europe by ship and had to be launched by means of a catapult because they had no adequate runway, can you imagine? I would have loved to do that… Where was I? Ah yes. The expedition was a secret to all but the German high command and a select few at Lufthansa Airways, who provided the ship, the Schwabenland.

"But why, you may be wondering, would anyone want to colonize such a remote, inhospitable place? The Nazis had no interest in Dr. al-Fayed's algae. The answer is twofold. First, the extensive conquests made by other nations, primarily the British, left them very few options for empire building. Antarctica was there for the taking. Second, whaling. Whale oil was a valuable commodity and one that Germany had to import. With war looking ever more likely, the official story was that they wanted to secure their own supply. This is clearly nonsense. Why, in the event of war, would it make sense to transport such a precious resource such a long way through hostile, submarine-infested waters? Surely it would be more sensible to channel their efforts into creating suitable substitutes, rather than into the costly and inefficient process of establishing a whaling base out here?

"No. The true purpose of the base they wished to establish was much more interesting. This was where the Nazis planned to build their impregnable fortress, their Shangri-la. It would be their fallback position should the tide of the inevitable war turn against them. It would be their first base of operations for the conquest of South America should things work in their favor. Controlling the northern hemisphere from Berlin and the southern hemisphere from their unassailable ice station, there would be no limits to their plans for expansion. While the Allies concentrated their forces on the war in Europe, Nazi scientists could work undisturbed in the Antarctic to develop military technology of a kind the world had never seen. This place would prove essential to the establishment of the thousand-year Reich.

"Of course, that is not how things worked out for them. They lost the war before their plans could come to fruition. However, there have always been questions about what happened to particular German treasures and indeed to a large portion of the U-boat fleet. More than fifty U-boats simply disappeared at the end of the war. Perhaps they were patrols that never made it home, blown up by mines or sunk by accidents and small natural disasters. There are many terrible things that can happen at sea. But could that account for so many? I doubt it. There are theories that the submarines that disappeared were evacuating Nazi personnel and treasures, spiriting them away to somewhere they would never be found. And where better than Antarctica? Where better than a series of secret tunnels hidden deep beneath an icy mountain range on a continent unoccupied by man?

"By 1945, rumors about this place were already circulating among the Allies — but when Germany surrendered in May of that year, there were more important things to do than investigate such rumors. Then, a few months later, a Nazi U-boat — U530—surfaced at Mar del Plata in Argentina. The commander was a tall, blond man who gave his name as Otto Wermuth, but he could produce no papers to verify his identity. Neither could his crew. Neither could the German female civilian who was inexplicably aboard.

"Soviet agents reported that the woman was Eva Braun and that Adolf Hitler was concealed among the crew. These reports were largely dismissed because the burned body found near the Führerbunker was believed to be Hitler's, but you may remember that a few years ago, DNA testing revealed that the corpse was in fact that of a forty-year-old woman. Where, then, was Hitler? Possibly Argentina.

"During the two years that followed, an incredible number of Nazi U-boats and other vessels appeared in the waters surrounding Argentina. Some surrendered, including U977. Others were sighted and vanished, with no convincing explanation given for their presence. Then, in 1946, the US Navy began Operation Highjump, which they described as a 'purely scientific expedition.' Now, perhaps the scientists among you can tell me whether this is a standard complement for a scientific expedition: an aircraft carrier, several destroyers and icebreakers, submarines, thirteen warships, fifteen heavy transport aircraft, long range reconnaissance aircraft, and about five thousand men? Our own operation feels dreadfully ramshackle by comparison.

"Anyway, Operation Highjump was beset with difficulties. Within three weeks, several aircraft and their pilots had been lost. A 'ship-unloading accident' killed numerous men and curtailed the Americans' intention to build an airstrip on the Ross Ice Shelf, roughly where the Pegasus Field would eventually be. Admiral Byrd ordered a sudden withdrawal of forces and they made a hasty retreat to the United States, leaving nine of their planes behind, just sitting on the ice. I'm sure you'll all agree, that is a particularly disastrous end for a 'scientific expedition.'

"I believe, as many others do, that the true purpose of Operation Highjump was to attack the Nazi fortress, which had been steadily developed here over the course of the Second World War. I believe that when the Americans realized that there truly was a Nazi base here, they saw the threat it posed to them and set out to neutralize it. I also believe that they failed, and that the reason they failed was that the technology they encountered was so advanced that their own forces were inadequate. They were driven out of Antarctica by superior might in the hands of the last remnants of the Nazi forces.

"For some reason, although they were able to withstand attack, those Nazi forces were never able to regain sufficient power to go on the offensive — and so much the better for the rest of us, perhaps. Yet there is no evidence to suggest that anyone dismantled the ice station — no sign of its equipment or transport being dumped or sold or otherwise disposed of. Which would suggest that it is still there, and that somewhere deep in the Antarctic there is a trove of Nazi technology, weapons, and treasure just waiting to be found… and as luck would have it, we are almost on top of it. Here," Purdue jabbed a pencil into the map, "is our current location."

Sam stared at the map. Sure enough, the little square marked Wolfenstein was just millimeters away from them.

"This," Purdue dropped his voice to a whisper, "is our true destination."