Lost in Magadan: Extraterrestrials on Earth

Nox navigated the craft off the building and into one of several openings above the water by which the submarines would enter the U-boat base. He landed his antigravity fighter on the dock behind a submarine mooring. This location within the submarine base had been specially designed to ensure Nox’s privacy. Nox knew that his height, dark gray skin, and elongated facial features would draw unneeded attention. So, he intentionally limited his appearances among the rank-and-file German troops.

The antigravity fighter was sitting on the concrete pedestal, held up by three legs that had extended from the belly of the craft. Nox walked down the metal stairway to the submarine dock. A Nazi Admiral and two guards were waiting to greet him.

The admiral stepped forward and saluted as soon as Nox set foot on the base. “We have been expecting you Field Marshall Nox Bellator. Heil Hitler!”

Nox, who at this point, was no fan of Hitler, shrugged and gave a half-ass salute. “Admiral Armbruster, take me to your office.”

“Yes Sir.” The Admiral, who was acutely aware of the fact that Hamburg was about to be overrun by British forces and that Germany was destined to lose the war, was not terribly concerned with the formality of honoring Hitler.

The Admiral’s office was very nice; the concrete bunker walls had been covered by rich wood paneling, and a dark red rug covered the floor. The Admiral had some personal effects displayed on a hand-carved curio cabinet that matched his ornate desk. Other than that, it was obvious that the Admiral worked at his desk. The large, executive desk was covered with papers, files, reports, memos, and plans. The messy paperwork extended past the fancy desk top and onto the surrounding floor as if the Admiral had them spread out for review.

Nox sat in a low back guest chair in the somewhat dimly lit office before being invited to do so. If the Admiral took offense to his guest sitting without invitation, he did not show it. The Admiral and Nox had been working together since prior to the inception of the war. Nox liked the Admiral, like a human would be fond of a favorite pet that could perform cool tricks. Nox thought the Admiral was intelligent - for a human.

Admiral Armbruster was one of the commanding officers of the U-boat base. He was average build, in his mid-fifties, with jet black hair, the wrinkles on his face, and bags under his eyes made it obvious that the war had taken a toll on him. Admiral Armbruster was proud of his family’s seafaring history. Both his father and grandfather had honorably served as naval officers in the past. Armbruster did not blindly believe the Nazi rhetoric, but he was intelligent enough to play the political game to avoid a firing squad. Armbruster took great pride in his role in developing the cutting-edge underwater boats and in winning navel battles. There was honor in engaging an armed enemy at sea.

“Are the U-boats ready for their long journey?” Nox asked, in his raspy voice.

“Yes, the modifications were just completed this morning. Each of the Type IX U-boats can now carry 100 people, including the crew,” the Admiral said with confidence.

“And the paperwork?” Nox had learned how important paperwork was on this planet.

“All four of the U-boats were reported missing in action, and there is no record that would indicate they are anywhere else but lying on the ocean floor. No one will come looking for these boats.”

“Any weapons?” Nox knew the plan was to eliminate torpedo tubes and storage to make room for more passengers.

“Unfortunately, we had to eliminate all torpedo tubes to make enough room. We were able to leave both cannons on the forward and aft deck,” replied the Admiral.

The Type IX U-Boats typically carried a crew of 53, were 251 feet long and displaced 1,034 long tons. With a maximum range of 15,000 miles and up to 24 torpedoes, they were perfect for attacking and sinking ships along the coast of North America and Africa. The tradeoff for carrying 165 tons of fuel and torpedoes was that it was slow. With a maximum speed of 20 miles per hour, this would be a long trip.

“How many crew are necessary to man the submarine, now that we have no need to man the torpedoes?”

The Admiral paused, and put his hand to his face as if he were thinking. “I could probably operate each boat with as few as 25 men, seeing that the plan is to stay out of shipping channels, and to not engage the enemy. Basically, we are just moving people from here to Antarctica.”

Nox nodded, his pitch-black eyes staring at the Admiral, not that the Admiral could tell as the creature had no eyeballs. “That means I can carry 300 men to Antarctica. One hundred and twenty-seven men are already chosen for the voyage. That means we can take 173 of your people.”

The Admiral sat up in his chair. This was the first he was hearing about the other passengers; “I did not realize you were bringing other passengers?”