Vengeance 10

Von Braun followed Bethwig up the scaffolding to a narrow platform some seventy metres above the launch stand. To the west they could see across the island to the snow-covered fields on the mainland where farms and forests were etched diamond-sharp in the clear January air. To the south the pines almost hid the buildings that housed the laboratories and administrative offices and, beyond them, the staff living quarters. Lost in the distance was the prison camp, most of its buildings deserted. The prisoners had been shipped to the underground factories of Nordhausen deep in the Harz Mountains where, under the direction of the SS, the V-2s continued to pour off the assembly lines for shipment to western Germany and the shrinking areas of occupied Holland.

To their left the cobalt-blue reaches of the Baltic stretched north to Sweden and Finland. Only a few naval patrols dared move on the Baltic now. Most of the merchant ships that had survived the Russian and British submarine onslaught were busily engaged in the forbidden evacuation of German troops from East Prussia and northern Poland.

‘We will be ready before the end of January.’ Bethwig broke the silence. ‘Unless something completely unexpected develops, there is nothing of a technical nature to stop us.’

They had ridden the elevator to the top of the gantry and climbed the rickety scaffolding to the pilot’s cabin in the third stage of the rocket. There had not been time to extend the gantries, or the material to do so, and the makeshift platform teetered dizzily in the wind.

Von Braun gave him a worried glance, then, grasping the hand bar bolted above the hatchway, lifted himself, inserted his feet, and slid in. He settled down, released the gimbal brake, and the couch swung freely to assume a horizontal position.

‘My God,’ he exclaimed, ‘this chair is comfortable. If everything wasn’t going to hell, I’d have one made up for my study.’ Von Braun rocked the couch a moment, then reached up and began to finger switches and tap dials, making certain the needles moved freely against their stops.

‘You’ve designed well, Franz. Nothing more than twenty centimetres away from the hand.’ He tapped another dial, then remarked off-handedly, ‘I was going over the flight plan last night and noticed you increased the initial G forces to six. Do you think that’s wise? Won’t it be too exhausting?’

Bethwig shook his head. ‘I don’t think so. We need that increased speed to eliminate the need to carry so much fuel into orbit around the Earth. I would rather expend it going up than reduce our manoeuvrability on landing. Anyway, I have spent several sessions in the centrifugal chamber at higher G rates myself. The increased gravity does exhaust one quickly, but I have been able to function in an acceptable manner well in excess of the time required.’

Von Braun turned on the couch to face him. Since the death of the elder Bethwig, von Braun was not certain he knew Franz any more. He had hardened to the point of abrasiveness. Every moment of his life now seemed to centre on the damned rocket. The risks he took with Kammler and the Gestapo security staff were appalling; it was as if he were challenging them to discover what he was up to. He also knew that Bethwig had taken to carrying a Mauser pistol, and von Braun had no doubt that he would use it if pressed.

‘Franz,’ he said after some hesitation. ‘You and I have been friends for a hell of a long time now. We can talk about things that… well, you know what I mean. I want you to tell me now why you are doing this. You know what Kammler will do if he finds out, as he is bound to. If not before, then certainly after the launch.’

Bethwig nodded. ‘Are you suggesting he will shoot me? Of course, he will. But I suspect that by the time he finds out, it will be too late to take such action. If the rocket lands on the moon, the impact on the Allies might well be so great that Berlin will consider me a hero. If the rocket fails, well, then we have only to claim that it has crashed in mid-Atlantic, and go on to try again — providing there is time left to do so.’

‘Franz, you have been away for over a month, you don’t know…’

‘Damn it, Wernher, you will not talk me out of it. If you don’t wish to be involved, say so now and let me get on with it alone.’

Von Braun looked abashed for a moment. ‘I… I am sorry, Franz, I didn’t mean to imply that…’

‘Let’s forget about it, then, all right?’

As he followed Bethwig into the elevator von Braun found himself even more troubled by his friend’s off-hand dismissal of Kammler and his SS and Gestapo thugs.

* * *