Schriever saluted and marched off, upright and determined. He was climbing the ladder up the side of the saucer even as Wilson retreated behind the concrete bunker with Ernst, Himmler, and the bulky SS bodyguards. Staring through the protective, reinforced gla.s.s viewing panel of the bunker's wall, Wilson watched Schriever lowering himself carefully into the raised, centrally located pilot's c.o.c.kpit. When he was strapped in, Habermohl and Miethe replaced the Perspex canopy, locked it into position, then climbed back down to the ground and pulled the ladder away. When they also were safely behind a concrete bunker and a waving flag had indicated that the test could begin, Schriever switched on the saucer's electrical system. Wilson heard the ba.s.s humming sound and saw the variable jet nozzles around the rim turning down toward the ground. When the jet nozzles were facing the earth, the engines roared into life.

The noise was extraordinary, an earth-shaking clamour, and the red and yellow flames spitting out of the downturned jets formed a circle of fire that was obscured and distorted by the smoke and dust billowing up from the scorched, hammered ground. The saucer vibrated violently, sank down on its collapsible legs, then bounced back up, swayed dangerously from side to side, and eventually lifted slightly off the steel platform, borne up on a bed of spitting flames, the smoke swirling around it.

It hovered tentatively in the air, its silvery body tinged with crimson, the yellow flames and black smoke forming a river of light around it. Then it rose even higher, thirty yards, then fifty, and hovered uncertainly again, tilting slightly from left to right. Then the jet nozzles moved and the flames shot out horizontally. As they did so, half of the nozzles cut out and the saucer was thrust forward instead of upward, in a sudden, brief, horizontal flight.

Very brief, indeed as Wilson had known it would be because just as it shot forward, heading toward the old firing range, the side not spitting flames tilted dramatically toward the earth and the flaming nozzles, now aiming at the sky, increased its downward momentum.

'Oh, my G.o.d!' Ernst exclaimed.

Schriever turned on the other jet nozzles in time to make the saucer level out just as it was about to hit the ground. It bounced along like a spinning top, out of control, turning wildly, shrieking and sending up great curving waves of earth and debris even as the engines cut out and the smoke streamed away from it.

'Get him out!' Ernst bellowed at the engineers.

Habermohl and Miethe ran like the wind, carrying the stepladder between them, and threw it onto the sloping side of the saucer and climbed up to the c.o.c.kpit. They unlocked the cover, let it fall to the ground, hurriedly helped a shocked Schriever out, and ran back to the bunker, practically dragging the pilot between them. They had just hurried behind the concrete wall when the saucer exploded.

It shuddered and collapsed, its legs giving way. Then it lay there, tilted on one side, some of its metal plates blown off, the flames shooting out from inside it and licking over the c.o.c.kpit.

Himmler stared at Wilson, his cheeks pale, his lips tight, then he glared at Ernst and stalked off, saying nothing at all.

'We're in trouble,' Stoll said.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR 'We can no longer depend on the American genius or Projekt Saucer,' Himmler said in his quiet, chilling manner from behind his desk in SS headquarters in Berlin. 'Whether or not an actual workable saucer can be achieved is beside the point, since clearly this war won't last as long as we'd hoped and the time required to complete the flying saucer will not be available.'

'With all due respect, Reichsf hrer,' Ernst said, relieved to have found Himmler so calm after the disastrous test flight but wondering why his throat was still dry, 'we must give Schriever and the American more time. If we wish to populate Neuschwabenland, we will need something more advanced than our finest airplanes.'

Himmler held up his hand in a rather lordly gesture of rejection. 'Yes, yes,' he said, 'I know that. I'm not a fool, after all. But since the American's saucer has failed again and he did admit that he was responsible for it I'm convinced that we can no longer depend on it as our final weapon, but must instead turn our attentions to Wernher von Braun's V-1 and V-2 rocket projects at Peenemnde. All the tests there have been highly successful. Indeed, I witnessed two tests myself, as well as others, at my own rocket centre at Grossendorf. Given the excellent results, it is antic.i.p.ated that remote-controlled rockets will soon fall on London. Since our beloved Fhrer also believes in the rockets, that's what we should concentrate upon.'

'Yes, sir,' Ernst said, not wishing to contradict his increasingly distracted Reichsfhrer, though he knew that Himmler's real reason for concentrating on the so-called secret weapon program was based on his desire to take control of the whole of Germany's military production.

Indeed, to this end, he had recently tried to talk Wernher von Braun into working under his command at Grossendorf. After failing to do so, he had persuaded General Fromm into letting him reinforce the Abwehr security net around Peenemnde with his SS, which actually was his first step in removing the hated Abwehr from his path. His next move, then, as Ernst well knew, would be to gain total authority over the V-I and V-2 rocket projects, despite the protests of the Abwehr's army generals and he would surely succeed.

'So, Kapit n,' he continued, 'I will leave you in charge of Projekt Saucer, for what it's worth, while I personally supervise the more successful activities of von Braun and his rocket team. I hope this makes sense to you.'

'Naturally, Reichsfhrer.' In fact, Ernst was secretly delighted. Ever since the humiliating surrender at Stalingrad, followed all too closely by the reverses in Africa and catastrophe in Italy, Himmler had shown increasing signs of emotional instability finely suppressed hysteria, a slight quavering in his voice, the constant blinking and rubbing of weary, dazed eyes. Ernst, who sensed that Himmler was growing mad, was more wary of him. Not that Himmler was alone. Berlin was now filled with rumours that Adolf Hitler was going mad, or was at least in bad health and frequently doped with the drugs supplied by his quack, Dr Theo Morell. If that was true, it would do Himmler little good because, as Ernst knew, when Himmler gazed upon his beloved Fhrer, he looked into a mirror.

Ernst still believed in the SS, in the promise of the New Order, but he could no longer trust his once-beloved Reichsfhrer. Therefore he was pleased that Himmler had lost interest in him and Projekt Saucer and was, instead, going to turn his attentions elsewhere.

He almost sighed with relief. 'There is this other little problem,' Himmler said, clasping his hands under his babyish chin and looking severe.

Ernst suddenly felt nervous. 'A problem, Reichsfhrer?'

'Yes, Kapitn, a problem. I believe you had a similar kind of problem in Poland one concerning a woman.'

Suddenly remembering Kryzystina Kosilewski in Cracow, deeply shocked that Himmler should have found out about her, Ernst could only swallow with a dry throat and let his heart race.

'Poland, Reichsfhrer? If you mean '

Himmler waved his hand and smiled, like a father to his son.

'A Jew b.i.t.c.h, I believe,' he said.

'Yes, sir, but I a.s.sure you, I '

Himmler waved his hand again and kept smiling, as if amused by Ernst's discomfiture. 'It's all right,' he said. 'That's all in the past now. We can but hope that you've learned your lesson from it and will not repeat the mistake.'

'Definitely not, sir!'

'How is it, then, Kapitn Stoll, that according to a report received this day from one of your fellow officers '

Ritter, Ernst thought bitterly.

' your wife has been seen to fraternize with a Wehrmacht officer whose sympathies, it is known, are no longer entirely with our beloved Fhrer. Even worse, your wife has also been reported as drinking too much lately and, apparently, making loud, drunken p.r.o.nouncements in public about what she deems to be the failings of our glorious Third Reich. Do you have an explanation for this, Kapitn Stoll?'

'I swear to you, Reichsfhrer, I didn't know,' Ernst said, caught between humiliation and outrage to learn what Ingrid was doing behind his back. Of course, she had told him that she was quietly living a separate life and he had tried to deal with it by forgetting about it. Now he had not only been reminded of her other men, but been informed that her separate life was not being lived too quietly. He felt like murdering the b.i.t.c.h.

'You didn't know she was seeing another man?' Himmler asked in his oddly pedantic manner.

'No, sir,' Ernst lied.

'Are you having marital problems, Kapitn?'

'To be frank, Reichsfhrer, yes. Though I'd hoped they wouldn't interfere with my work.'

'Most admirable, Captain. Unfortunately, we cannot have the wife of one of our finest officers making a fool of herself in public, much less offering insulting remarks about our glorious Third Reich while cavorting with a potentially traitorous officer.'