The 34th Degree

17

P rofessor Xaptz was a small man with round spectacles and dubious credentials. He had been recommended to Himmler by one of Hitler’s most despicable and corrupt supporters from the old days, a fanatical Jew-hater named Julius Streicher. The professor’s high-pitched, nervous laugh rose above the clatter of teacups, coffee, and assorted cakes now being served in Hitler’s teahouse, a twenty-minute walk from the Berghof and perched on one of Hitler’s favorite lookout points over the Berchtesgaden Valley.

A few minutes later, after Hitler, Himmler, and Baron von Berg had settled into their easy chairs around the coffee table, Professor Xaptz began:

“As you know, I have been charged by the Reichsfuhrer with unearthing and protecting the ancient history of our Aryan civilization. This mission has taken me to the ends of the earth, even Antarctica, where General von Berg established a submarine ice base for the Reich.”

Von Berg flinched at the mention of Antarctica, seething once again at the memory of the ridiculous expedition that had cost him two crew members and several months of his life.

Professor Xaptz was part of a team of archaeologists and “scholars” that Himmler had sent to Antarctica to prove Hitler’s master race theory, specifically the fantastical idea that the Nazis descended from the First Race-the mythological Atlanteans. They and their doomed city were first described in the fourth century B.C. by the ancient Greek philosopher Plato, who himself allegedly relied on source material dating well before the ancient Egyptians.

It was all pure fiction, of course, but the money, manpower, and military support that were being diverted from the war were not.

Yet, despite the Nazi occupation of Greece and access to all the pre-Greek Minoan ruins he could ask for, Professor Xaptz had not been able to show any hard evidence to support his wild speculations. So it didn’t surprise von Berg that Xaptz would resort to turning the Fuhrer’s attention to Antarctica, where any ruins would be impossible to find, much less unearthed two miles beneath the ice, but which was as fertile ground as any for wild speculation and pseudoscience.

Von Berg had been forced to lay claim to the entire ice continent for the Reich by establishing a secret submarine base in East Antarctica, from which Xaptz and his ilk “worked” for three weeks. The only good that came of it for von Berg was an ideal locale to stash some of the army’s unstable biotoxins so that they could not infect and destroy Germany before the Allies even landed.

Meanwhile, Xaptz had creatively established the idea of a “chain of knowledge” from the Atlanteans to the Nazi SS. This chain started with the Atlanteans and moved on to the Minoans, Egyptians, Greeks, Knights Templar, and Freemasons-all of them clay vessels to hold the enlightened knowledge of Atlantis. At the end of this line-beyond the 33rd Degree of the Masons-lay the knowledge of “First Time,” which in turn contained secrets of the “end times” upon which rested Hitler’s vision of a Thousand-Year Reich.

Again, a huge distraction from the war and impending Allied invasion with real ships, guns, and tanks. And now once again they were entertaining this charlatan with their attention.

“For the past few weeks I have had the honor of serving under the Reichsfuhrer to examine the Maranatha text as represented by a captured enemy microfilm. The text claims the apostolic authority of Paul and predicts the end of the world. As there is no papyrus for me to date, I have had to rely on content alone to determine the text’s authenticity. Nevertheless, I have completed a preliminary analysis and made some remarkable discoveries.”

He produced a marked-up enlargement of the microfilm. “The Book of Revelation tells us that the celestial armies of Christ will gather in the Valley of Megiddo. That’s in present-day Palestine, now occupied by the Allies. The Maranatha text says as much and implies that the most likely point of entry into Fortress Europe from these invasion forces will be Greece, repeating the spread of Christianity two thousand years ago.”

“I told you, Reichsfuhrer!” Hitler said to Himmler. “I was sure of it!”

Von Berg looked at Himmler and then eyed Xaptz incredulously. “How on earth did you arrive at such a convenient deduction?”

“I’ll show you.” Xaptz pointed to letters he had circled in the text. “By skipping certain letters, we see certain words appear-”

“Excuse me,” interrupted von Berg, turning to Hitler. “Why should the good professor be searching for encoded words in an ancient document? What sort of scholarship is this?”

“Explain it to him, Herr Professor,” Hitler said, waving his hand.

Xaptz frowned at von Berg. “Down through the centuries, there has been considerable debate in the Judeo-Christian tradition as to whether the Bible is literally inspired by God, word for word, letter for letter. Some Orthodox Jewish researchers, most notably Dr. David Stein, have gone so far as to search for encoded messages throughout Scripture that defy human explanation. By skipping letters in the Book of Genesis, for example, the Hebrew name for God, Elohim, appears 147 times. Because the probability of that happening by chance is about one in two million, the premise is that the Book of Genesis is divinely inspired.”

“Do you personally believe this?” von Berg asked Xaptz.

“The consensus among many biblical scholars is that an editor pieced together the Book of Genesis from several ancient sources, known as the D, P, E, and J documents,” Xaptz told von Berg, then turned to Hitler. “Of course, my Fuhrer, this documentary hypothesis collapses if the present findings hold up.”

“This is all very interesting, Herr Professor,” said von Berg, “but what bearing could it possibly have upon the course of the war?”

Professor Xaptz’s response was defiant. “The ninth chapter of the Book of Esther refers to the hanging of the ten sons of Haman. They were enemies of the Jews. Hidden among their names is the Hebrew date for 1946: Judgment Day, if you will. I would think any reference to the twentieth century is quite relevant.”

“Why 1946?” asked Hitler, clearly troubled by what he had just heard.

“I suppose it means the war will be won by one side or the other by then.”

“But which side, Herr Professor? I must know!”

What was left of the thin veneer of infallibility of the Fuhrer, the military genius who had conquered continental Europe, disintegrated, as it often would during these tea-time conversations when he would openly share the opinions he tried to hide from military types such as Jodl and Doenitz, rightly fearing their ridicule.

“For that answer, I refer you to the thirty-first chapter of the Book of Deuteronomy, where the Lord told Moses his descendants would forsake God and break His law. Verse seventeen says, ‘Then my anger will be kindled against them…and I will devour them.’ When that section is scanned for every fiftieth letter, the Hebrew word for ‘holocaust’ emerges. That means a burnt offering or fiery destruction of life.”

“Clearly a divine affirmation of your Final Solution, the extermination of the Jews,” added Himmler to Hitler. “Of your messianic mission and the certainty of the Thousand-Year Reich.”

“Why, of course, I see now,” said Hitler. “I thought of it, and now I am sure. Even the miserable Scriptures of subhumans cannot hide the reality of my destiny and their destruction.” He turned to von Berg, who nodded dumbly. The notion that an ancient document could predict a genocidal madman like Hitler was almost as absurd as the reality of watching him actually believe it.

Hitler produced a German Bible and opened it to the bookmark at the thirty-first chapter of Deuteronomy. “Show me here, Professor, circle the letters.”

“It won’t work in just any translation, my Fuhrer. I need the original Hebrew Torah. I suppose the Masoretic text that dates to the tenth century is precise enough. But even then I’d have to translate the alphanumeric codes.”

“I see. But of course.”

Von Berg could only gaze with wonder at the disappointed Hitler. The man should be removed from leadership immediately, he thought.

“In the case of the Maranatha text we see in the microfilm, I’m dealing with first-century Greek and not the Hebrew Dr. Stein analyzed. But here, too, if we use only every fiftieth letter, we discover words such as ‘Armageddon’ and ‘judgment’ hidden among the letters of this lost epistle to the Thessalonians.”

“Fascinating,” Hitler muttered.

“Why fifty, Herr Professor?” von Berg asked. “Why not thirty-seven or forty-four or any other number?”

“The number fifty is seven times seven plus one,” Xaptz answered simply. “Seven is a special number in the Bible, especially in the Book of Revelation, and we cannot forget there are seven days in the week of the creation myth. There are also fifty days between Passover and Shavuot, as the Jews celebrate those holidays, and Easter and Pentecost, as they are recognized by Christians.”

“But of course,” von Berg replied. “That explains everything.”

Hitler nodded in agreement, failing to appreciate the Baron’s intended sarcasm.

“Some letters can be translated into their numerical equivalents,” Xaptz continued. “Alpha, for example, is equal to one, beta is two, zeta is six, and so on, so that hidden among the letters of this microfilm is what appears to be a rather complex code of some sort. One that, if we could unravel it, would tell us the exact date of the end of human history as we know it.”

“And provide us with the formulas for Greek Fire,” said Hitler. “Go on, go on.”

“Unfortunately, it is all inconclusive, you see, because we have here only a fragment of the Maranatha text and not the text itself. And I am not so much of an expert as Dr. Stein.”

Hitler turned to Himmler. “Then get me Dr. Stein.”

Himmler cleared his throat and, in a low voice, reminded the Fuhrer, “Sent to Dachau in thirty-eight. Died two years ago.”

“I see,” Hitler murmured. “Is there nobody else?”

Xaptz said, “There is an American I am aware of who has done some work in this field, though it is not his specialty. Professor Jason Prestwick of Yale University.”

Hitler nodded. “The one referred to in the Allied communique we intercepted along with the microfilm.”

“The same, Fuhrer. Naturally, he is beyond our reach at this moment, though probably just as puzzled if they have shown him this microfilm.”

Von Berg had heard enough of this fantastic conversation spoken in such calm, reassuring tones between the quack professor and the chancellor of Germany. He could restrain himself no longer. “Has it occurred to Herr Professor,” he said, “that Prestwick is perhaps in the employment of the American intelligence services and that this microfilm is an elaborate hoax?”

For a moment they were all silent. Xaptz began to twitch nervously.

Himmler laughed. “You give the Allies too much credit, Baron von Berg. What purpose would such a forgery serve?”

“To exploit our fears about the Allied armies gathering in the Middle East.” Von Berg addressed Hitler, eye to eye. “They know we have a fairly accurate assessment of Patton’s Seventh Army and Montgomery’s Eighth Army in North Africa. But Wilson’s Ninth Army in the Middle East is another story. We don’t know how many divisions are down there, much less if any of them are even close to being ready to mount a large-scale invasion. The Allies understand our strategic dilemma, so they devise mystical nonsense such as this Maranatha text to deceive us.”

“To what end, von Berg?” asked Himmler from his chair, sounding as if he’d had enough of the Baron’s tiresome doubts.

Von Berg kept his eyes locked with Hitler’s. “As I said earlier, to make us fear an invasion of Greece and move the focus of our attention away from their intended point of entry.”

Hitler sighed. “Which you still insist is Sicily?”

“Yes,” said von Berg, “and again I must remind the Fuhrer of my opinion that we don’t need additional German divisions in Greece. Once they are there, they cannot be easily moved, certainly not in time to counter an Allied invasion of Italy.”

A faraway look filled Hitler’s eyes as he considered the implications of the logic, and for a second von Berg dared to believe that reason would prevail. But the Reichsfuhrer dashed any such hope to pieces.

“What is it you’re hiding in Greece that the presence of more German troops makes you so uneasy?” Himmler removed his silver pince-nez and polished the lenses as he squinted his small eyes at the Baron. “You’re not still pursuing research on atomistics, Jewish physics, are you? The Fuhrer ordered the Flammenschwert Project abandoned. We don’t want a Sword of Fire. We want a Sea of Fire. We want Greek Fire to protect our shores from invasion.”

Hitler snapped out of his trance. “Yes, von Berg,” he said with newfound authority. “We’ve already been through all this with the armaments ministers. Last year, before he died, Todt told us that an atomic bomb is not worth our time. And Speer says that even if we were to pursue such a weapon, the earliest we could deploy it would be 1946. By then, as Professor Xaptz has shown us, the war will be over. Besides, von Braun’s rocket research at Peenemunde looks much more promising.”

At this point, thought von Berg, no weapon could save Germany if Hitler remained in power. Already Hitler’s failure to appreciate the stealth of the U-boat had cost Doenitz’s underproduced fleet the Atlantic. His blindness to the speed of the Messerschmitt Me 262 jet fighter had cost Goering’s battered Luftwaffe the skies of Europe. Now his ignorance of the power of the atomic bomb could cost Germany the war.

“The ultimate weapon is Greek Fire,” Hitler went on, his eyes sparkling at the mention of the subject. “Greek Fire will provide us with the ultimate defense against any Allied invasion-a ring of fire around the continent. In the twinkling of an eye, we could set our coastlines ablaze, burning the Allies before they even set foot on our shores. Just like that.” He snapped his fingers. “What are you doing about it, von Berg?”

“My team of scientists is working around the clock on a synthetic formula for Greek Fire,” he answered, although that was a lie. “They are using the latest advances in science to test various combinations of naphtha, sulfur, petroleum, bitumen, potassium nitrate, and other compounds in search of the formula.”

Hitler glared at him. “I don’t want a synthetic formula, von Berg,” he demanded, his voice growing louder. “I want the real thing. I want the Maranatha text. That’s all I ask. Just bring me that infernal text! I want it before the next weapons conference!”

Von Berg realized that the next weapons conference was on his fortieth birthday, less than a month away. “But that’s on the second of June.”

“Which gives you three weeks, von Berg. Don’t disappoint me.”

“Oh, I won’t.”

Von Berg knew that Germany’s only hope at this point was the restoration of his monarchy and a peace settlement with the Allies. The Flammenschwert bomb would make it all possible once Hitler was out of the way. All he needed was a few weeks-precisely what the Fuhrer was granting him. Until then he would keep the Maranatha text out of Hitler’s hands or find a way to use it for his own ends. He rose to his feet. “But if I should find that this Maranatha text contradicts the contents of the microfilm, you will reconsider my hypothesis concerning Sicily?”

“Yes,” Hitler sighed. “I will reconsider.”