Die Glocke

Devin Mendelson

13.10.1938

        Somewhere in the Owl Mountains, beneath the rows of harmless spruce trees, the old 19th-century Wenceslas Mine felt the weight of human feet for the first time in decades. Dozens of trucks with no head or rear lights had slowly and quietly arrived near the mine’s entrance in the dead of night. Over one hundred men had gotten straight to work. Lights were installed in the long-forgotten tunnels. Controlled explosions created new rooms and passages. Some of these rooms would be turned into barracks; others, research labs. Machinery and equipment were brought down through the shaft by both hand and wheel. Sections of the rocky walls were smoothed out to prop up rectangular red banners with white circles and ominous black swastikas. At the end of the main tunnel, there was a long, large rectangular chamber full of old mining equipment. In the following weeks, the chamber was repurposed. Schutzstaffel hopefuls hauled out the old equipment and flattened the walls and floor. They installed a dozen large, steel, oblong-shaped vats in two rows, six on each long side of the chamber. Sturdy, steel pipes emerged from the tops and bottoms of the vats, and all of the pipes connected to each other, hugging the walls and ceiling. To the human eye, the ultraviolet glow of Xerum 525 that illuminated the dark chamber appeared as ordinary purple. The violet, mercury-like liquid that filled the vats and pipes ultimately made its way to the center of the chamber, to serve as fuel for the bell-shaped device that would one day fundamentally alter the outcome of a war that hadn’t yet begun.

18.4.1945

Obergruppenführer Kammler, sir!

I am transmitting this message to inform you of a scientific breakthrough that will be most beneficial to the war effort. I respectfully insist that you see it with your own eyes.

Heil Hitler!

Backing away from the Enigma machine, recently-promoted Obergruppenführer Hans Kammler wiped the sweat from his brow. He was under stress. To say that they were losing the war would be an understatement. The Allies had an iron grip around the Reich’s throat, and now they were crushing its windpipes. The Red Army was attacking Berlin, where his pregnant wife and seven children lived. Kammler glanced back at the reports and sighed. Defeat seemed inevitable. But not all hope was lost. Not after what he’d just heard. As Steiner’s transmission had reminded him, reforming the Luftwaffe was not the only thing he’d received managerial authority over… Under normal circumstances, he wouldn’t be so inclined to jump at what was likely just another shadow, but there was something that he’d heard in Steiner’s voice: hope. The fact that Steiner hadn’t specified what it was that they’d uncovered was curious – to say the least. He knew that Steiner didn’t trust the encryption of Enigma. Could it be that whatever they’d found was so significant that Steiner didn’t want to mention it in his message? Kammler shrugged off the thought: it was most-likely just wishful thinking. Regardless, he was going to pay Steiner a visit. However, it was nearly midnight, and Kammler didn’t trust a pilot to have the necessary focus at this hour – especially one woken up in the middle of the night – on top of all of the extra hazards of flying in the dark. No. Instead, he’d leave for the Wenceslas Mine first thing tomorrow morning. He made the necessary arrangements for a flight at dawn. Desperate times called for desperate measures, and this was the most dire time of his life.

19.4.1945

Daniel Schapiro was lying down on the pile of hay he’d grown accustomed to calling his bed. The cell was small, claustrophobic. It used to house fourteen Jews when he’d first arrived. Now he was the only one left. Once every month or so, one of his cellmates had been dragged out of the cell, screaming for his or her life since it wasn’t hard to connect the dots: a day or two after someone was taken, the Nazis had the remaining prisoners clean up the bloody mess around the swastika-engraved giant bell. At first, they’d also had to clean up some warm purple puddles beneath the vats on either side, but that hadn’t happened in months, not since the guards grabbed Geraldine. Those who were dragged out were never seen again. Cleaning up had been a hassle for Daniel the last time around, given that he and Anne were the only ones left to do so. But it hadn’t been as bad as he’d expected: there was a lot less blood that time. Daniel didn’t know what to make of it all, nor did he care to – not anytime soon, anyways. His mind was preoccupied with Anne, who’d been taken the previous night. Later today – or sometime tomorrow, Daniel would be summoned to rid the bell of her blood, to cover up more of the blood on the Nazis’ hands. Daniel didn’t know if he could stomach it. Not just because it never got easier – especially as the number of helping hands decreased, and not even because this time he’d have to do it alone, but because of how much Anne had meant to him. Over the past dozen-or-so months, he had grown attached to her. Daniel yawned, recalling his initial reluctance, given the knowledge that their days together would be numbered. But over time, he inevitably fell for her. How could he not? Anne had the most beautiful blue eyes, and the waviest dark blonde hair. In the past two months, since he and Anne were the only two prisoners remaining in the cell, he became much more intimate with her. Since it had gone for over a month without either of them being selected – which was unprecedented, Daniel foolishly began to believe that they were inseparable. Last week, in lieu of a ring, he’d proposed to her by etching a heart into her clothing’s yellow star. And she had said yes. When Anne was taken yesterday, Daniel had begged them to take him instead. When he’d argued that he’d be the better sacrifice because of his brown eyes and black hair as opposed to Anne’s blond hair and blue eyes, the guards had burst out laughing. It sounded silly to Daniel, too, but it was no joke – it was a last-resort plea to save Anne. And it had failed. With Anne gone, he had lost everything. There was nothing left to live for – or die for. Daniel gazed at the jagged rock ceiling before closing his eyes, struggling to forget about his woes and grumbling stomach.

        The trip to Wenceslas Mine took just a couple of hours by plane. When Kammler landed, he was greeted with a Roman salute by Hoffmann, Steiner’s right-hand man. The two men got in the back row of the Mercedes-Benz 770. Hoffmann gave the driver a nod and the engine sprang to life. The drive was only half an hour long, and soon they were there. Hoffmann escorted Steiner down the gray, dusty tunnel. A rodent scurried past Kammler’s feet. Spread every ten meters apart were lightbulbs dangling from the rock overhead. As they went further into the interior of the mine shaft, the echoes of their footsteps grew louder and louder. They approached a guard standing by a large pair of steel doors, rifle raised.

        “Oh, it’s you,” the guard said, lowering the muzzle. Then he immediately stood up straight and gave a Roman salute, as had been done when Kammler had greeted Hoffmann. The two men returned the customary salute to the guard – though by then the guard was already working on getting the massive metal doors open. The guard grunted and leaned his back into it. The door gave, but not without also letting out an awful-sounding screech. Kammler grimaced at the noise.

        “Could use some oil,” the guard said apologetically, “but you know how thin supplies are these days…”

        Kammler somberly nodded. Hoffmann just shrugged.

“Come, Obergruppenführer,” Hoffmann said, “We’ve arranged a demonstration for you.”

There they were. The footsteps. Daniel could tell that it wasn’t simply a guard coming to give him soup – his ears could distinguish three different sets of feet. But that didn’t make sense – it had always been two guards that came when it was clean-up time. The only time three guards ever came was when… when they came to drag out a test subject. Daniel’s heart raced, but he ignored it. They must’ve cleaned it up themselves. Perhaps they recognized that doing so would be far more efficient than a single weak prisoner cleaning it up all by himself. But why another trial so soon? Daniel shrugged the question aside. It didn’t really matter. It was more of a blessing than anything else – he’d had enough of living. His wife, Gretchen, and baby daughter, Eva, had been dead for at least two years, but the memory was always fresh, as if being shoved into the separate line of healthy men had happened yesterday. All of the women, children, and elderly had been put in the other group. Daniel had heard his daughter crying, and so he’d looked over his shoulder. Shut it up or I will!, a guard had said to Gretchen. But Eva kept crying, and the guard silenced her, permanently. Daniel had wanted to scream, but his throat was too dry – he’d given all the water he’d had on the journey to his wife and child. Gretchen had reacted to Eva’s death hysterically, and for that, she had been murdered, too. After years of anguish, Daniel had forced himself to come to terms with their passing. And now Anne. He didn’t want to suffer through the emotional torment again – even if it was only for just a month. So Daniel was ready to face death. He wouldn’t give the Nazis the satisfaction of flailing and begging for his life. Instead, he’d face his demise like a man.

Obergruppenführer Kammler walked past the vats and bell to the far end of the large rectangular chamber, through a metal door into a small observation room that had a glass panel which gave a clear view of the bell. Steiner was waiting in that room. Steiner threw up a Roman as Hoffmann locked the door behind them. Kammler and Hoffman returned the greeting. Steiner grinned and shook Kammler’s hand. It had been a long time since Kammler had seen Steiner and his sky-blue eyes. His sun-blond hair wasn’t graying despite nearing 60 – yet another example of Aryan superiority. Kammler himself had blond hair, but it was dirty blond, and his eyes were a light brown. He sometimes had difficulty hiding his jealousy. But Kammler took solace in the fact that Steiner’s daughter, Leni – who shared her father’s features – was his wife. Kammler had first met Leni at Adolf and Vera Eichmann’s wedding back in 1935. He couldn’t believe how lucky he’d gotten with meeting Leni. She was the perfect Aryan woman: serious and determined with a resolve like no other. Like Kammler, she was dedicated to the Reich, and she wanted to start having children as soon as possible. He dated her for less than a month before proposing. Now, they had been married for nearly a decade, with seven kids to show for it, and an eighth on the way. Leni was back in Berlin, raising the kids. He couldn’t have been more proud of her, and neither could the Reich. Soon, she would receive a golden Cross of Honor, the greatest gift that could be bestowed upon a German mother. She’d been working hard raising their children in the proper National Socialist manner. She had more than earned it. Their eldest son, Jörg, would soon be old enough to join the Jungvolk division of Hitler Youth. In a letter Kammler had received shortly after receiving Steiner’s Enigma message, Jörg had asked him if he could be there for his first day with the Jungvolk. Kammler had responded with cautious optimism. …However, if I’m not able to make it, I want you to know how proud I am of you. He remembered when Jörg was born: Kammler, Leni, and Steiner had all been ecstatic when they saw his bright blue eyes and light-blond tufts of hair for the first time. It had been strange to think of Steiner as his father-in-law, but it was something Kammler was getting used to. Though they’d been friends since Kammler joined the Party in 1931 when Kammler was 30, Steiner had 15 years on him.

“Due to the severity of the situation, I suggest we get straight to business,” Steiner said. “The Führer’s vision of a 1,000-year Reich isn’t dead. Things may look grim out there, but none of that matters now. Observe.”

        Steiner pressed a button on the wall. The steel doors on the far end of the chamber opened and three uniformed men accompanied a prisoner toward the bell-shaped device that sat in the middle of the room. The soldiers opened a hatch on the side of the bell and pushed the prisoner in. After sealing it shut, they walked back the way they came in, closing the steel doors behind them. Steiner pressed a different button, and the chamber began to glow a subtle purple. The vats trembled, the lights flickered. Kammler felt the vibrations tickle his toes. But he paid his feet no mind – his eyes were focused on the bell. The dome-like top of the bell began to glow a vibrant violet through its evenly-placed square holes. The rings on-and-below the lip of the bell began to spin, each ring rotating in the opposite direction of its adjacent rings. The most unnatural, metallic sound Kammler had ever heard thrashed his ear drums. He clutched his ears, but forced his eyes to stay open to see this thing through. The rings were moving faster than his eyes could track, and the bell lifted off the floor and hovered two meters aboveground. The bell floated there for less than a second before a brief flash of purple energy burst out of the dome and scattered in every direction. Immediately after the burst, the bell abruptly fell back into the ground. The energy pulse evaporated into thin air before it even came close to reaching the chamber walls. Then it was over. The glow of the dome quickly faded. The vats stood still. The bell sat motionless where it had been – as if nothing had happened.

        “Mein gott. Does the Führer know?” Kammler asked.

        “He’s aware of Die Glocke, but he doesn’t know that we’ve gotten it to work.”

        “And why not?” Kammler asked.

        Steiner pondered for a moment, then ordered Hoffmann to leave. Steiner had Kammler wait for the steel doors at the far end of the chamber to close with Hoffmann on the other side.

        “Berlin is under attack. The Führer has more immediate concerns. But none of that matters. The Führer gave me a special code phrase when this project began in 1938. He told me that if we are ever to achieve time travel, we must go back in time and contact him with a very long list of critical information about the past however-many years – or future years, depending on how you look at it. We can prevent Barbarossa, we can stop the deception of D-Day. We can alter the course of history, my friend. The thing is, the Führer instructed me only to send someone I can fully trust – given the damage that can be done if there’s treachery. And, naturally, he strictly forbade me from sending myself… Son…” Steiner started, but was at a loss for words. And Kammler knew why. Steiner wanted to send him. His thoughts immediately turned to Leni and his children. If he was sent back to 1938, he’d be seven years older than the 1938-version of himself. To prevent breaking the space-time continuum, he’d have to wait seven more years until the past-version of himself left on this journey in the Die Glocke before he could see his wife again. Altogether, it would mean that he would nearly be the same age as Steiner is now by the time 1945 rolled around again! His wife would be half his age! Would he still be potent enough to produce more children? He might not even live to see his grandchildren! What would Leni say if the next time she saw this version of him, he was her dad’s age? No, Kammler couldn’t do that. There had to be a compromise.

        “Do I have to travel all the way back to 1938? The next time I see Leni, I’ll be your age, and she’ll still be 28.”

        “I know…” Steiner said, again, at a loss for words.

        “What about 1941? Before Barbarossa? I can tell the Führer to call it off,” Kammler said. Steiner paused, and scratched his chin, deep in thought.

        “You know what, that just might make more sense, anyhow: we were winning before we declared war on the Reds. I’ve always believed that deciding to fight a two-front war is what turned the tide against us.”

        Kammler nodded. He was about to say that he agreed when two uniformed men burst through the steel doors, shouting Steiner’s name. Steiner opened the door and met their approach so that they all stood halfway between the bell and the observation room. Kammler walked up from behind Steiner to join them.

        “What is the meaning of this?” Steiner demanded.

        “We-we found something, sir,” the taller one said, nervously. Steiner raised a blond eyebrow expectantly.

        The shorter man held up two ancient-looking scraps of cloth, each with a faint yellow star.

        “We found them in a room that had been thoroughly searched years ago,” the taller one said. “We told the scientists first, as t-to not disturb you.”

“The scientists looked through their algorithm, found the error, and told us that the non-scientific way of explaining it is that the date was set to 1889 instead of 1000,” the shorter man explained.

“If-if it makes you f-feel better, the scientist responsible for the miscalculation has been executed,” the taller one said, twiddling his thumbs.

“Who was it?”

“Halterman.”

“The one with a Jewish great-grandmother?” Steiner said.

Kammler scowled in disgust.

“Um, I-I think so, sir, but sir, I’m not sure-”

“Do you really think it was a mere miscalculation?”

“Of course it’s a Jew,” Kammler chimed in. Steiner raised a hand to quiet Kammler before glaring at the taller guard.

“Listen, Klaus! Just tell them to fix their calculations or they’ll be lined up for a firing squad!” Steiner scolded, shooing them away. When they were gone, Steiner turned to Kammler, anger flashing in his blue flame eyes.

“We were supposed to send them further back in time than the mine’s existence so the instant they emerge on the other side, their bodies would be crushed into billions of pieces by the un-excavated rock,” Steiner explained, “the damn fools sent them to the year the mine shutdown.”

“1889, he said? Isn’t that the year the Führer was born?” Kammler said.

Steiner’s eyes grew wide, and he nodded.

“When those rats find out what year they’re in…” Kammler started to say.

“We can still stop them. The space-time continuum is malleable right now. Their prison garbs appearing out of nowhere is tangible proof of it. We just need to get you back to 1941…” Steiner said, gesturing towards the steel doors, “Let’s go have a chat with the scientists.”

19.4.1889

Daniel’s whole body felt numb as the giant bell that he’d been thrown into disappeared before his eyes. The bell’s floor vanished from underneath him, and he fell a couple meters before awkwardly landing feet-first on the rigid rocky floor. His head felt heavy. Unusually heavy. A possible side effect of whatever just happened? There was no way to know.

Daniel looked around. He was now in an underground chamber similar in size and dimensions to the bell’s room, but it lacked the smoothed, polished walls and flattened floor. His instincts told him it was the same room, but his eyes painted a different picture. No bell, no vats, no purple hue. Instead, there were wheelbarrows, pickaxes, helmets, and dynamite scattered around the room. The bright electric lights were gone, too. The room was dimly candlelit. Still, the room felt oddly familiar. Then, something caught his eye to his right. A patch of cloth embroidered with a yellow star. He stumbled over to examine it. It had a heart etched into it. The same heart that he had etched into Anne’s star! She was here – or at least nearby. She had to be. But why would she get rid of his heart? Then it dawned on him that the heart wasn’t the problem; rather, the problem was the Jewish Star it had been carved on. Daniel ripped his Star of David off of his chest and tossed it next to Anne’s. As he walked toward the now-doorless exit, his head felt even heavier, and it started throbbing with pain. He lowered himself to his knees, and then the world went black.

“I found another one, unconscious and all,” a rusty voice said.

“Another woman?” a gravelly voice asked.

“No. A man.”

“How do they keep sneaking down the tunnel unnoticed?”

“I don’t know. What I do know is that we should haul him up to the boss.”

Above the depths of the Wenceslas Mine was a mountain coated in layers of grass, shrubbery, and spruce trees. Atop the mountain, next to the mine shaft’s entrance, sat a large red-brick house, the makeshift-headquarters of the Wenceslas Mining Company and home of its boss, Ludvig von Liebenau, who was currently tending to his guest. When she had returned to consciousness, he’d provided her with a fresh set of clothes and one of his guest rooms. Now, having changed clothes in her room, she elegantly walked down the stairs to the dining room in the emerald-green dress. She smiled at him as she took a seat at the table.

“Can I get you something to eat? You look like you haven’t eaten in years, madame… um… How should I address you?”

        Ludvig was intrigued by her. A mysterious, young woman shows up out of nowhere down in the mine wearing nothing but scraps of cloth. She’d been found early this morning in the storage chamber. When his employees brought her up, Ludvig had decided to take her in under his care. Of course, a part of him knew that his kindness was due to how attractive she was. She was dirty blonde and had the brightest blue eyes, and she couldn’t be more than ten years younger than him. He noticed that she had a set of numbers etched into her arm, and as tempting as it was to ask, something in him intuitively knew that it was better not to.

“Yes, please. And thank you, kind sir,” Anne said. “For everything. Oh – and the name’s Anne, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you, Anne. They call me Ludvig. Now, about that meal…”

Ludvig smiled, and snapped his fingers to summon his servants. But the sound of his snap was drowned out by a loud knock and shouting at the door. Ludvig sighed.

        “Yes, come in, Müller.”

        “Sir, we’ve found another,” Müller said, holding up an unconscious man who wore the same scraps of clothes that Anne had been wearing.

19.4.1945

        “We’ve triple-checked, sir. Everything is in order. Die Glocke is calibrated and ready to take a traveller to April 19th, 1941,” a scientist said.

        “It better be,” Steiner said, handing Kammler the backpack filled with a long list of important information regarding the past four years of the war.

        “Why April 19th?” Kammler asked.

        “We can only adjust the year. It’ll take you to exactly four years ago. We’re still months if not years away from being able to pinpoint a specific date,” the scientist explained.

        “It’ll have to do,” Steiner interjected, turning his attention to Kammler, “That gives you just over two months before Barbarossa begins. Contact the Führer using the special code as soon as possible. But first, before you leave the mine, talk to the past-me and inform me of Halterman’s treachery, and, to be safe, tell past-me the names of those two Jews, so that when they arrive, I’ll have them killed on sight. If those Jews get their filthy claws on the baby Führer before you find me, the very existence of the Reich will be undone. That’s why we must assume that the Jews will seek out the Führer. Do you understand? We don’t fully understand how the space-time continuum works, but the fact that we are still here means there’s still time. Come! I will send you off in Die Glocke. We must waste no time!”

19.4.1889

Daniel awoke in the most comfortable bed he’d slept on in a long time. Anne was by his side, her dreamy eyes gazing at him. Daniel thought he was in Heaven, despite not believing in such a place. Anne was dead. Was he dead now, too? Shouldn’t his wife and kids be around?

“Anne, are we dead?”

Anne shook her head. “No. We are in April of 1889. I caught a glance at our host’s calendar downstairs.”

“Impossible.”

“I thought so, too. But then again we were thrown in the bell. Perhaps this is what it does. I wonder if the others made it, too.”

Daniel shook his head, doubtfully. “I don’t think there was any blood when you left, and I reckon there wasn’t any blood when I left either. I think we were the first successful test subjects. We just got lucky, Anne.”

Anne stared at the floor, then sighed and shook her head. “Luck had nothing to do with it. I can’t lie to you anymore. I wanted to tell you sooner, but I needed you to be convincing when you begged for my life.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I was never going to die.”

“I don’t understand,” Daniel said, with a hint of annoyance.

“Okay. I’ll explain. Just please don’t hate me. I love you.”

“I love you, too. That’s not gonna change – don’t worry. Just fill me in. Please.”

“I was in contact with one of Project Sieg’s scientists, Doctor Halterman, well before test subjects were needed for trials. The doctor’s secretly a member of the resistance. So am I.”

        “Wait. What? How was a Nazi scientist helping the resistance?”

        “His goal was to delay Project Sieg as much as possible. He undermined the project for as long as he could, and he bribed the guards to not pick me. Our relationship was obvious to those who paid attention, so I can only assume he knew about it and paid them to spare you, too.”

“So the other prisoners had to die to delay that thing’s success?”

“Saving the other prisoners would have been impossible. As soon as two subjects successfully travel, the others get executed. So it was either two randoms or someone who was trained to stop the Reich before it began plus one random.”

“And I’m your ‘plus one random?’”

Anne shrugged. “Unlikely random. I’m almost certain he knew about us.”

“So I owe him one.”

“The world will owe him one if we succeed.”

“And if we fail?”

“The Reich wins the war and establishes a world government.”

“So, what’s the plan, then?”

        Ludvig was disappointed to learn that Anne and Daniel were a couple. Daniel’s my husband, Ludvig, Anne had explained, I’m sure you’ll find a lovely lady. Ludvig was an honorable man. When Daniel came to, he was upstairs chatting with his wife – though whatever words had been said were inaudible to Ludvig from his chair by the fireplace. When they’d finally come down for dinner, Ludvig was a bit reluctant to believe Daniel’s story that their unsuccessful chase of a wolf brought them deep into the mine in the middle of the night, but, given that the wolf had apparently attacked and murdered Anne’s mother, their motive for chasing the animal was understandable. Over dinner, they were so excited simply to see each other alive. It was quite touching. He let them both spend the night at his place. They were already upstairs. Ludvig tried his best to tune out their moans and the thumping noise. He sat alone in the living room, yet again, staring at the flickering embers of the fireplace. Tomorrow morning, he would have his well-traveled coachman, Adolf, take the couple wherever they wished to go. He would also promise them that he and his men would shoot any wolf they might come across. The fire was dying down, the couple’s moans were subsiding. Then silence. It was getting late. Bed time.

19.4.1941

        Kammler banged on the hatch and shouted to whoever might be able to hear him on the other side. He’d successfully traveled – he knew that much at least because he’d felt the bell lift off the ground, but never felt or heard it crash back down. Instead, he’d felt the floor of the 1945-bell vanish beneath him as he’d bumped his head against the ceiling of the stationary-bell. He’d quickly felt his bodyweight fall to the floor of the stationary-bell – though he’d managed to land on his feet. Kammler continued to bang and shout, and finally someone opened the hatch. It was Hoffmann.

        “Identify yourself!”

        “Obergruppenführer Hans Kammler,” Kammler said as he hopped out of the hatch. “I suggest you mind your tongue when speaking to your superiors. Where is Steiner?”

        Hoffmann saw Kammler’s uniform and became visibly uneasy. He tried to mask his discomfort and fear by putting up a Roman salute, to which Kammler responded in kind.

        “My deepest apologies, Obergruppenführer. Steiner didn’t tell me anyone was coming to inspect Die Glocke’s progress. Had I known, you would not have gotten stuck-”

        “Never mind that. I must speak with Steiner!” Kammler prompted.

“He just left for his daughter’s birthday.”

“Steiner never leaves his post for Leni’s birthdays!”

Hoffman hesitated. “She’s also very pregnant. Maybe that has something to do with it.”

“Scheisse!” Kammler swore. He knew his daughter Klara’s birthday was on April 25th, 1941, but Kammler didn’t realize – and Steiner obviously hadn’t remembered – that Steiner had left so soon to see his granddaughter.

“Can we make contact with him?” Kammler pressed.

“Not at the moment, but if we hurry, we can drive to the landing strip before he takes off.”

Kammler cracked his knuckles as the vehicle sped and swerved down the road. Hoffmann hadn’t bothered waiting for a driver to get ready. He’d jumped into the driver’s seat with Kammler in the back. 25 minutes later, they zoomed towards the landing strip only to see the rear wheels of the plane lift off from the ground. Kammler desperately looked around to see if there was another plane lying around. Nothing.

“When does the next plane land here?” Kammler asked.

“Tomorrow morning.”

“Where is the nearest airport?”

Hoffmann shook his head. “Too far. It’s best to wait till tomorrow.”

“Scheisse,” Kammler cursed. “Can you get me in contact with the Führer in the meantime?”

Hoffmann nodded. “We can use the Enigma back at the mine.”

        Mein Führer! The bees have left the hive! The bees have left the hive! Steiner sent me. I have the list! My name is Obergruppenführer Hans Kammler. I must meet with you.

 Heil Hitler!

Obergruppenführer Hans Kammler, you have done well. Don’t bother coming to me. I will come to you. This takes precedence over everything else. I will be at the mine by tomorrow.

Sieg Heil!

        20.4.1889

        Daniel had been surprised by Ludvig’s generous offer that morning, just as the coachman, Adolf, had been surprised when Daniel told him where he and Anne wanted to go. Braunau am Inn was a full day’s trip in the horse carriage, but Adolf had worked swiftly, getting them there before sundown. Per Anne’s instructions, Daniel had lied to Ludvig and Adolf, telling them that his sister in Braunau was expecting a child any day now. And now, with the sun setting over the lightly frosted mountainscape, they were almost there.

        “It’s going to feel wrong, but it must be done,” Anne whispered.

        “I know. It’s just so hard to fathom that a helpless, innocent baby could turn into a monster.”

        Anne shook her head. “It’s not innocent. You admitted it yourself. It turns into a monster.”

        Daniel pondered on the dilemma until the sight of Braunau stole his attention. It was a small town. Clusters of one-two-and-three-story-tall buildings here and there in between old-looking streets and flame-powered street lamps. The occasional horse carriage roamed through the streets. Daniel’s eyes honed in on a police officer and his heart skipped a beat before he remembered that it wasn’t a Nazi. He’d grown accustomed to fearing uniformed men in the Reich. It would certainly be a hard habit to break.

        “We have arrived! Send Ludvig’s regards to your sister, Daniel. And mine too, of course.”

        “Thank you, Adolf,” Daniel said, stepping onto the street.

        “Have a safe journey home,” Anne added as Daniel helped her out of the carriage.

Adolf gave them a courtesy smile before they went their separate ways. The town’s small size made it easy to find the Hitler household after asking only a dozen-or-so people. Anne managed to pickpocket a knife from a passerby.

“Was that also part of your training?”

“Yes, this confrontation will go a lot smoother with a weapon.” Anne paused for a moment before adding, “And we can’t afford to fail.”

Following her lead, Daniel approached the birthplace of the Führer. He swallowed a nervous gulp as Anne casually knocked on the door.

Daniel began to hear a thudding sound. He couldn’t tell if he was hearing footsteps from the house or if his heart was pounding louder than he’d thought possible. Then the door swung outwards. A pudgy, grumpy-looking man with a large mustache towered over them.

Anne held the knife in her right hand, which was on the exterior side of the door, out of Mr. Hitler’s line of sight.

“Hello! You must be Mr. Hitler. We’re your new neighbors. We heard your wife delivered a baby today. We wanted to give you our congratulations.”

Daniel watched as she awkwardly pretended to stretch, slowly-but-swiftly moving her right arm higher along the door frame and closer to where Mr. Hitler’s head was. Before she was ready to strike the single killing blow, Mr. Hitler took a couple of steps further inside and gestured at them to come inside.

“Sure! It’s a happy day for Klara and I, so why not share the joy?”

Daniel forced a nervous smile. “Thank you, Mr. Hitler. You’re-you’re too kind. Is it, um, a boy or a girl?”

Daniel made eye contact with Anne, mouthed drop the knife, and proceeded to follow Mr. Hitler inside.

“It’s a boy!” Mr. Hitler said.

Daniel heard Anne stepping inside and closing the door behind her, but he kept his eyes forward. Daniel walked through the short entrance corridor and emerged in what appeared to be a spacious-yet-empty living room. Two chairs off to the left faced the right-side wall, and two chairs further back were facing the front door. Klara Hitler was sitting in one of the far chairs, cradling and soothing a bundled newborn baby.

“What’s his name?” Daniel forced himself to ask.

“We haven’t officially reported it yet, but we really like the name Adolf. What do you think?”

Daniel walked up to Klara and peered at the little smushed face peeking out of the layers of white cloth. “I think – I think the name suits him perfectly. He – he really is adorable.” It felt weird for Daniel to say, but it was true: Adolf Hitler was a cute baby.

Klara glanced up at Daniel and smiled. “Thank you, dear. Why don’t you sit down? I overheard your wife say that you’re our new neighbors. What’s your name?”

Mr. Hitler sat down in the chair next to Klara and nodded at the two chairs off to the left.

“My name is Heinrich Himmler and this is my wife, Margarete,” Daniel said as he sat down in one of the chairs. He looked over at Anne for the first time since entering the house. Her hands were behind her back, and were thus hidden from the Hitlers. They were hidden from Daniel, too. He had no way of knowing if she’d dropped the blade.

“Margarete? Care to join us, love?”

Daniel looked up into Anne’s eyes and noticed that they were looking at the squished little face on Klara’s lap.

“Margarete, are you alright?” Klara asked, “Want me to get you some water?”

“No, no, that’s okay – thank you, though. I’m fine. I just, can I get a closer look at your baby? I – I myself am two months pregnant and I’ve never given birth before and I -”

Daniel was shocked, but he forced himself to bury his emotions for the sake of staying in character. Either Anne had been keeping her pregnancy secret from him, or his beloved Anne was an insanely good liar – especially for doing so on the spot. Feigning a pregnancy was never part of the plan. Then again, neither was the door trick failing. Everything since then had been improvised.

“Oh, of course. I understand. I understand completely. You’re scared. I know what that’s like. Come here. Let me show you little Adolf.”

Tears rolled down Anne’s cheeks as she walked past Daniel. From his position, with his chair being closer to the front door than the Hitlers, Daniel could see behind Anne’s back while the Hitlers could not. And what he saw horrified him. The knife. He wanted to warn them, but it was too late, Anne was already cutting open Klara’s throat. Blood sputtered everywhere. Daniel jumped up out of his seat.

“Stop, Anne! This isn’t right!”

But Anne was too busy burying and twisting the blade deep through Mr. Hitler’s eye socket. The corpse’s arms and legs flailed in response to the electrical jolts from the cold metal slicing through brain tissue. Daniel pushed Anne, which knocked over Mr. Hitler’s corpse and chair. Anne tried to regain her balance, but stumbled over the now-sideways chair leg. She fell with a hard thud, landing on her tailbone. Daniel jumped on top of her, pinning her down with an iron grip firmly on her wrists.

“What is wrong with you? They were nice to us!” Daniel cried.

Anne suppressed a chuckle.

“Do you want to know why I, of all people, was chosen for this mission?”

“Are you even listening to me?”

“Someone like you would ruin everything. The resistance needed a psychopath so that morals and ethics don’t put the mission in jeopardy. They wanted that psychopath to be an attractive, young woman to seduce Mr. Hitler. But then I met you in the cell. You were easy to manipulate. You said and did everything I told you to, you pathetic excuse of a man!”

Daniel was on the verge of tears. He’d thought that their love was real. It had to be real! Her story didn’t add up. Daniel shook his head. “If you were needed to seduce Mr. Hitler, then why would Doctor Halterman send me back with you?”

Anne giggled. “That’s the best part, you idiot. You really did get insanely lucky. I wouldn’t have cared if they chose you first, second, or third. Even in retrospect, I still wouldn’t care! You fool! Did you really think that Doctor Halterman, or any of the Nazis – for that matter, knew – let alone cared – about our relationship? The only people who knew or cared were all killed in the bell.”

Anger, confusion, and humiliation swelled up inside of Daniel. She had truly never loved him. She never had any feelings for him, ever. He thought back to his wife, Gretchen, and his baby daughter, Eva. They were his true loves, and they always would be. It was all clear to him now. This thing with Anne was a sexual fantasy-turned-nightmare. Nothing more. Daniel’s eyes wandered from her cackling face to his right hand.

“Do you know why I’m telling you this? Because I know you. You won’t kill me. Your petty morals and ethics are too damn important. Worst case scenario you knock me unconscious, but you’re probably too soft to even do that, aren’t you?”

Anne burst out laughing again, but Daniel’s eyes were still stuck on his right hand. And then he processed what Anne had just said, and his eyes shifted further to the right, to the slouched jaw and bloodied mustache of Alois Hitler’s corpse. Daniel took a deep breath and released his grip on Anne’s left hand, instantly yanked the knife out of the corpse’s eye socket, and sunk it deep into Anne’s chest, piercing her cold, heartless heart. It all happened in under two seconds. Anne didn’t have time to stop laughing and react, or maybe she just didn’t want to. Perhaps she thought it was just a threat, or perhaps she didn’t mind dying. Daniel would never know. She’s dead now though. Good riddance. The smells of death wafted through the room, and it made Daniel gag. Daniel stood up. It was time to walk outside, get some fresh air, start a new life, and forget any of this ever happened. Except Gretchen and Eva. He would treasure their memories forever. And who knows? Perhaps without the Third Reich, his wife and daughter will have a fulfilling life with an alternate version of Daniel. Perhaps he’d even live long enough to see them, and admire them from afar. Assuming they survived, they wouldn’t recognize him. Would they even be the same people he knew? All of the time travel stuff made his head hurt. He needed fresh air. Now. Daniel walked over to the front door, but before stepping outside, he heard the cries of a poor, little baby who’d just lost both of his parents.

20.4.1941

Kammler waited by the air strip with Hoffmann for the Führer to land the following morning. Hoffmann looked different. He wore a funny circular hat on his head and his armband was white instead of red. They watched as the plane landed, but Kammler noticed something different about the tail fin. It still had the black swastika, but instead of being inside of a white circle surrounded by red, it was inside of a familiar, white star surrounded by blue. When the Führer came up to greet them, he had a beard and was also wearing one of those round hats.

“Yom huledet sameach, mein Führer! 52 years young! How was the flight from Jerusalem?” Hoffmann cheered.

“It was a good flight, and thank you. The board has finally agreed upon a final solution for the Negro Question.”

        Then Kammler realized what had happened. Those Jews didn’t kill the Führer! What they did was far worse – they raised him! The Reich had become a Jewish puppet! They’ve tricked the German Volk into blaming the Negers for the faults of the Juden! He had failed! Panic swept over Kammler’s psyche, and his thoughts immediately turned to his family.

“Hoffmann, where did you say Steiner was going, again?” Kammler asked.

“To his daughter’s birthday and for the birth of his granddaughter.”

“Who’s the baby’s father?” Kammler asked, trying his best to remain calm.

“My cousin, Frank Schapiro,” the Führer said, smiling, “I’m flying there to meet baby Ruthie after we’re done here.”

No longer able to live with himself, Hans Kammler took out his Mauser and buried the muzzle under his chin. Then he squeezed the trigger.