"What a fucking mess." Hagen did not bother looking up from the casualty reports as he spoke. From where she was sitting Anita saw no reason to contradict his assessment.
The attack on the Soviets had been successful in terms of ground gained and forces captured. Where it had been an utter disaster was how many ubermensch lives it had cost. There had been casualties among the conventional soldiers as well but that did not concern Anita beyond how many of them had not been tested yet. Rather than terrorizing the Soviets into submission this assault may have inadvertently shown them that resistance was still possible, at least for the time being.
"Himmler had fifty panzermensch and two Battleships. He had the rest of the forces in Vistula. How the hell did he manage to get nine panzermensch killed and another fourteen injured? Over a quarter of our ubermenschen gone in a few days. There were twenty at Strasbourg and they did not lose a single one taking the city!" Tossing the papers down onto his desk Hagen looked towards Anita, as if she could explain whatever tactical blunders Himmler had made. Sankt had given her a decent enough overview of his thoughts on the use of the panzermensch that she could at least point out a few flaws.
"You already said the key word: city. Strasbourg was one contained area where the panzermensch could move in groups and be safe from most of the weapons capable of harming them. Here they were attacking across open country and into small towns alone, with the nearest panzermensch reinforcements near a kilometre away most of the time. You were there when I warned Himmler that the panzermensch were not a miracle. They needed more time on full rations to build their strength. It is a wonder that we did not lose even more." Anita rattled off the things that immediately came to mind. All of them were things that Himmler had been cautioned about but he had chosen to forge ahead anyways.
"Is it possible that there was something wrong with the activations? Even with everything that you said to lose that many..."
"The activation works just as it is supposed to," Anita might have only been an administrator at Sankt's project but Hagen's subtle accusation still annoyed her. Given that she was also a panzermensch it felt rather personal. "As far as weapons go the ubermensch are perfect. But they are still humans. Some of those reports say that there were panzermensch using their halos at point blank range. That close someone would not need much luck to disrupt the halo with a bullet. We trained them not to do it but I am told that combat is much different from a drill. I would be surprised if they remember even half of what they learned."
Hagen seemed to accept that as he went back to looking over the reports. No doubt he was certain that the Wehrmacht would have done a much better job than the SS. From what Anita had seen that opinion was probably accurate. Despite all of his power Himmler seemed to be hard pressed to come up with a coherent plan for using the ubermensch other than just throwing them at the Soviets. Even as they sat here Guderian was having an audience with Hitler. The attack might have been a success overall but there were enough rough edges that the Heer could try and pry some ubermensch free from Himmler's grasp. When it came to the grudges between the various factions Anita paid close attention. These were all things that might be useful when it came to finally replacing Hitler.
"Is there any chance that the Soviets might be able to learn anything from the bodies they recovered?" Hagen's head shot up as if he had just thought of that. Had he paid closer attention to Anita then he would have already known the answer.
"None. Even if they had a sample of the Catalyst itself I doubt they could reverse engineer it in a thousand years." Knowing the chemicals needed to create the Catalyst was only scratching the surface. The process of creating it was so convoluted and counter-intuitive that even chemists who had made dozens of batches failed every now and then. All that the Soviets might learn from the bodies was that the panzermensch did have certain vulnerabilities. Anita would make sure that countering that knowledge was put at the forefront of training the next wave of ubermensch.
Germany's victory was all but assured at this point no matter what the Soviets did. Testing had been slow to begin but soon enough every panzermensch lost would be replaced by ten new ones. Without access to the Catalyst itself all the Allies could do was prolong the war. Given how much of their Catalyst stores Hitler had seen fit to give away the Allies would be having that problem on every front soon.
The Italians had been the first to benefit from Hitler's generosity, though in truth it would only serve to bind them even tighter to the Reich. In the mountainous terrain of northern Italy the panzermensch would be devastatingly effective at stifling the American advance until a Battleship could be sent to remove them from the peninsula entirely. It was the decision to furnish Japan with two hundred panzermensch activations worth of Catalyst that troubled Anita. While it would not delay their own efforts by long the journey to get it to Japan would be dangerous. Several u-boats had been dispatched to reduce the risk of any single one being sunk but a few lucky torpedoes could waste months of effort.
While Anita might not think the risk was worth it she did appreciate the logic behind arming the Japanese. The Soviets were the immediate threat but the Americans would need to be dealt with eventually. Forcing them to divert more of their forces to the Pacific could only relieve the pressure here in Europe. In that window of opportunity Germany would do everything that it could to regain control of the continent.
"At the very least General Guderian should be able to get Siegmund back under Wehrmacht control. Seeing these numbers he is obviously the more valuable of the pair. Cleared more ground in less time." Even though Hagen might not care much whether they had Siegfried or not Anita knew that the military wanted full control over all the Battleships. Something they were not likely to get anytime soon. Markus was too much of a true believer to ever be torn away from Hitler and Himmler's mad schemes and Klaudia had managed to get herself wrapped around one of Goering's fat fingers.
For Werner's sake Anita did try to give Klaudia some benefit of the doubt but that self-absorbed child did not even seem to realize that Goering only wanted her as a pawn to reassert his waning power over the Reich. If Klaudia wanted to spend the next month running around Belgium and the Netherlands Anita really did not care. Not a day went by that she did not wish that their situations were reversed though. The power of a Battleship needed a clear thinking mind behind it, not some moody girl trying to avenge a boy who had been dead for years. Sadly the Catalyst did not give them that choice.
"It's simple to see what happened. Werner destroyed his targets and moved on. Markus likes to get close and take his time." She could not say it here but Anita was sure that Hagen knew that one was a professional soldier and the other a pathetic sadist. Klaudia might have been a poor choice for a Battleship but Markus was an utter waste of flesh. It spoke volumes about the state that Germany was in that he was well on his way to becoming Hitler's favourite. Once Markus realized that he actually had some authority it would just make his excesses even worse.
"There is something else that I have been wanting to talk to you about," Anita waited until she had Hagen's full attention. As it stood she had been removed from all of her supervisory roles to act as an advisor on the ubermensch. Project Lightning was completely out of her hands. On some level Anita believed that they suspected her of being complicit with Sankt but for now they had nothing to prove it. She needed to make herself useful not only to keep safe but to keep sane. "It has to do with the injured panzermensch."
"I'm listening." Hagen said as he folded his hands and leaned back. Nonchalant as he looked Anita knew she had a possible solution to what would only be a growing problem. Try as they might panzermensch would continue to get injured and they were still very much like ordinary humans in that their wounds did not heal on their own.
"The halo might be useful when it comes to repairing their injuries. While most of our research focused on its destructive power it does have the ability to create and also to rearrange." Anita left out that the process would be slow and painful. Panzermensch durability was insufficient to make them invincible but it did render them beyond the help of all known means of anaesthesia. There simply was not a drug in existence powerful enough to relieve the pain from any injuries that an ubermensch received. That should be incentive enough for most to be extra cautious in battle once they realized the full consequences.
"Are you certain about that? I know that you did some sculpting before the war but putting a person back together is a bit harder than messing around with a lump of clay."
"At the camp Sankt brought in a few of the Poles from the testing program, ones who had been found to be potential panzermensch. Once we had the means to contain them we fully activated them and were able to carry out some experiments. It is how we learned most of what we know about the limits of panzermensch durability. While there was not enough time to fully investigate it then I was able to make some rudimentary repairs. Enough to extend their usefulness." Messing around with clay? That got under Anita's skin. Just because she had been forced to take secretarial work to make ends meet did not mean that she had lost any of her passion for the arts. She might not know as much as a doctor but she knew far more about anatomy than Hagen could ever hope to.
"I've not gotten around to reading those reports yet. How exactly did you 'contain' a panzermensch?" Hagen looked rather incredulous at the thought. How little he knew.
"There are precautions that can be taken prior to the activation. Namely that the halo is directly linked to having functioning eyes. Someone without eyes cannot produce a halo. Similarly any tendons that you cut in the arms and the legs do not grow back. Without the halo and much, if any, mobility containment is a simple affair."
Hagen looking away in revulsion reminded Anita of just how morbid the work had been. She had derived no joy from it and merely remembered it in a clinical manner. They had needed information and enough German potentials had been lost just trying to get the activation to work correctly. It was not as if those Poles could have been left alive anyways given what they were. Everyone had been forced to make sacrifices in this war.
"I will ask if there are any volunteers," Hagen replied once he had pulled himself back together. "If we find anyone then you can work on them but only under strict oversight. These are German soldiers after all."
"Of course." Anita had gotten what she wanted. Hagen was fooling himself to think that any of the injured panzermensch would not leap at the opportunity to stop their pain.
Eventually they would find some potentials who had actual medical experience. In the worst case those who had an aptitude could at least receive medical training. Having just won the right to try Anita was not about to reveal her doubts as to how far her own abilities would stretch. Surface injuries would be the simplest to fix. Deeper wounds such as broken bones would require far more effort. Halo distortions were next to impossible to control without direct line of sight to their target. They would have to burn their way down to the break, repair it and then rebuild all of the layers up to the skin. All while the patient was entirely aware of what was happening.
It would be difficult work but it was necessary. Even after the war was won there would still be occasions where a panzermensch might hurt himself. Without knowing how to fix their own injuries the new superior form of human would have difficulty showing their full potential.
Both of them gave a start as the telephone on Hagen's desk rang. Listening in to the brief conversation that followed Anita was able to surmise that Guderian was calling in new orders based off of his meeting with Hitler. If only Luther had not already been sent off. She was not supposed to know anything about the geltmensch and their missions but he had checked in with her before departing. All three were to proceed to Britain, where Luther was to remain while the others went on to the United States. Information about what the Western Allies were up to would be critical for making the German counter-offensives proceed smoothly. No matter how powerful the Battleships were there were only three and they were limited in how long they could remain active. Knowing where and when to strike would make the use of the Battleships far more efficient.
It was slightly amusing to Anita that in spite of their general disdain for Sankt everyone seemed to have agreed with his assessment of how the geltmensch should be used. There was little point in training one to speak Russian when it was shortly to become a dead language. Already the testing process was searching for more candidates who could speak English or had the skills to make a good infiltrator. A single geltmensch in the right place could be worth hundreds of panzermensch, a dozen of them working in union might be able to bring the United States to its knees with little bloodshed. Germany had bled enough already.
"We get Siegmund at least." Hagen sighed as he put the receiver down.
"I would assume that Himmler keeps Siegfried then?"
"And the bulk of the panzermensch. They are to continue into Poland while Siegfried joins the assault into Hungary and Romania. Sieglinde gets the twenty in Strasbourg to cover the whole Western front," Even though this was essentially what the Heer had wanted Hagen hardly sounded happy about it. "Though I doubt Siegfried will make much progress even with all those panzermensch."
Anita did not need to ask why. Bundled with the casualties were the reports on the number of prisoners taken. She was fully aware of what would happen to those men. Not that she was overly squeamish about it, the Soviets needed to be destroyed if Germany were to survive, it was just not something she cared to be directly involved in. Markus though, he would relish every moment of it. The war effort would depend on how quickly he could be made to take care of the problem and move on.
Considering who still ruled the Reich Anita did not know if speed would even be a priority. A desire for vengeance still ruled the day.
From the crest of the hill Markus beamed with pride as he looked down over the mass of Soviet prisoners below. His first real battle had been an incredible victory. All those long hours of war games and reading the classic manuals of warfare had finally born fruit. The Soviets that were not sitting disarmed in the muck below him were either in camps very much like this or retreating back into the East. Soon enough they would be dealt with too. There would be no escape for the cowardly Bolsheviks this time.
Anyone who looked closely would see that it was not meant to be a permanent enclosure. The guard posts were makeshift and the barbed wire insufficient to hold back the prisoners if they made a concerted effort to escape. A few displays from the panzermensch deployed around the edges of the fence had broken what little will these men had left. Now they just sat there docilely, like pigs waiting to be taken to market. If only they knew what was in store for them today. They were to be given a spot in the history books.
"Siegfried, the Reichsfuhrer is coming this way!" One of the men below shouted up towards Markus. While he would have preferred that the man show more respect for his position that was quickly overwhelmed by his excitement that Himmler had finally arrived. They would be starting soon now that he was here.
During the few days that he had been in Berlin Markus had been given the opportunity to speak with the Leader and the Reichsfuhrer daily. Himmler was every bit as much a genius as Markus had thought he would be. The vision that the man had painted of the future had taken Markus's breath away.
The cities of the east would be swept away under the might of German halos while the masses of Slavs, Jews, Gypsies and other undesirables that shelter within them would be culled. All that would remain would be vast stretches of land to be inhabited by the renewed German Volk. Once more the people would be connected with the land and the struggle that had shaped the Germans into the strong race that they were today. Best of all Markus would be central in these efforts.
Running down the hill to meet Himmler's approaching car Markus snapped to attention as soon as he was at the bottom. Noting that the men around him were a bit sluggish in following his lead Markus resolved to speak with their commander later. The troops should have been reinvigorated in Markus's opinion as this was the hour of the Reich's triumph.
"Markus, a great victory for the German people!" Himmler had barely excited his car when he began speaking. "The Leader is overjoyed. He plans to personally present you with the highest honours once you are able to return to Berlin."
"Thank you sir!" Markus could barely speak. His mother had been overjoyed that he had secured a luncheon with Hitler, what would she say when she saw her own flesh and blood receive a medal from the Leader himself? It was a shame that this war would be over so soon. Even though he had only really been a part of it for the last few days it had already been the highlight of his life.
"Let us go see these prisoners of yours." Himmler took the lead heading back up the hill. Markus was careful to stay close behind without his longer legs overtaking the smaller man. It would hardly do for Himmler to think that he was being rushed up the hill.
Back on the crest they stood for a moment as Himmler surveyed the squalid expanse in front of them. When the wind blew the wrong way the stench of the collected mass of Soviet soldiers was overwhelming. Far worse than any farm that Markus had ever been near. Truly they were worse than animals.
"It is time then. There can be no more half measures in this war. The injuries that Germany has sustained are proof of that. From this moment on no mercy, no quarter," Himmler leaned towards Markus, lowering his voice so that only the Battleship could hear what he was saying. "You have the full trust of the Leader and myself in this. The others do not share your clarity and drive. We will be counting on you."
"You honour me again sir. Heil Hitler!" Markus saluted Himmler before turning back to the camp.
No accurate counts had been made so far but Markus had heard that there was anywhere from thirty to forty thousand prisoners in this camp alone. Activating his halo he could feel a smile begin to stretch across his face. The first distortion appeared just inside of the fence. Markus waited long enough for the men closest to it to shout in alarm and try to run before he began to move it. His gaze followed along the perimeter leaving nothing but bloody smears on the ground behind it. Completing the circuit Markus then began to spiral the distortion inwards, slowing down as he approached the centre.
Most of the men screamed incoherently as they watched their doom approach. There was nothing they could do to escape it after all. The few that had not been caught up in the initial pass were picked off by the panzermensch when they tried to run. Only a few minutes after he had begun Markus found himself looking down at an empty field. Hints of red mixed in with the mud was the only sign that anyone had ever been there.
When Markus looked beside him he saw that Himmler had his hand over his mouth as though he was about to sick up. There was no shame in that, after all they were entrusting Markus with this duty for a reason. He would be able to perform the difficult actions that others could not. All for the good of the Reich.
As they went to move on to the next camp the corners of Markus's smile felt as though they might touch his ears. Today would surely be one of the best of his life.
Stuck in a dingy little bathroom Nikolai found himself gripping the edges of the sink with white-knuckled hands. No matter how he tried he could hardly catch his breath. Every time he managed more than a gasp another fit of coughing started up. Finally, with some difficulty, he managed to still himself. Tasting blood in his mouth Nikolai spat into the sink. None visible at least, a small relief. Turning on the tap he splashed his face with the cold water before catching sight of his reflection in the mirror. The last few years had aged him to the point where he looked a good decade older than he actually was and Nikolai was not a young man. His cheeks were sunken, his eyes surrounded by dark shadows and his hair thinning. Most days he thanked God that his darling Natasha had not lived to see him like this.
Picking up the still-lit cigarette from the edge of the sink Nikolai took a careful drag from it. His lungs quaked slightly but he did not start hacking again. It was one of the few vices that he indulged in and even if it was responsible for his current predicament he was hardly about to stop now. Not like quitting would make the tumours in his lungs go away.
Nikolai had been a doctor long enough to know a dead man when he saw one. That he had lasted this long was the biggest surprise.
Nine-hundred days. That was what really pissed Nikolai off. He had survived nine-hundred fucking days in the closest thing to hell on Earth. Leningrad had devoured two of his sons and three of his grandchildren. After all that some foolish little thing was going to be his undoing. What little time he had left on this earth would be spent making sure that his remaining family had a secure future. Which was why he was here. In a place that did not exist working on a project that no one could speak of.
Nikolai had lived through the revolution. He had cheered for the Kronstadt men when they had marched into what had then been Petrograd in support of the Soviet revolution. A few short years later he had privately wept when those same men where crushed by the Bolsheviks. Through it all Nikolai had learned the lessons to surviving in the new world. Agree with those above you, follow their every command and try to not draw attention to himself. Over the years those lessons had served Nikolai well. Up until the war he had managed to carve out a comfortable existence as a chief surgeon.
While Nikolai had always stayed away from the spotlight he knew that no one could survive in this world alone. He had many friends who had made their way into high places over the years. So long as he did not associate with any of them too closely he could enjoy the benefits of their patronage without risking too much should one of them fall. Several had during the purges. One day a man could be a hero, the next he was denounced a villain. Such was life.
Confident that he had his breathing under control once more Nikolai stepped out of the bathroom and walked back to the operating theatre. This was undoubtedly one of the most important scientific undertakings that was going on in the entirety of the Soviet Union. When one of Nikolai's old friends had asked him if he might be interested in taking part he had leapt at the chance. It put him right under Stalin's gaze but if they were not successful then a show trial and a bullet to the back of the head would be the least of his worries.
Somehow the fascist Germans had managed to produce a miracle. Men who could kill with a glance, who could withstand gunfire as if it was a cool breeze. Nikolai and the others here were to discover how they had done it.
The inside of the operating theatre looked more suited for repairing an engine than performing an autopsy. It had been discovered quickly that the bodies of the panzermensch retained their resilience in death. When surgical saws took too long to cut through bone someone had decided to bring in more industrial equipment.
All around the room doctors and orderlies were hard at work dissecting the bodies of the German supermen. Looking up into the gallery Nikolai could see the ever-present watchers making certain that everything was recorded. The one that concerned him the most was a young man who went by Ivan Ivanovich. Whether that was his real name or not Nikolai did not know but the man was the chief NKVD officer overseeing them. There was a direct line leading from him all the way back to wherever Beria was making his lair these days. Nikolai nodded politely up to him before getting back to work. His goal was to protect his family, not get them all put in a camp because of his distaste for certain instruments of the state.
Picking up a length of intestine with his bare hands Nikolai wrapped it around one and then the other, pulling what remained taut. Having this little impossible piece of guts in his hands helped to make this fantastical situation real to him. The owner of this particular organ had been struck by direct fire from a tank. There had not been much left to be scooped up and brought back here but even after that trauma the length would still not tear not matter how Nikolai pulled at it. It felt exactly as it should except far stronger.
Another pair of bodies had come in without heads. The reports attached to those both said that the men's heads had imploded while using that strange lighting. No solid explanations as to why but there were a few theories going around. Word was being given out for snipers in particular to try and fire at the eyes. Enough data from the field and they would have an answer.
Passing a small glass dome that had been set up Nikolai stopped to peer inside.
"How are our maggots doing?" He asked the orderly watching over the experiment.
"Starving." The man replied. It was what they had expected but still, no detail could be overlooked.
There were all sorts of samples being collected and packaged for further testing. Muscle, fat, skin and bone. Nikolai had no idea how the chemists were going to learn anything from it. Any concoction powerful enough to dissolve any piece of these men would disrupt any test that he knew of. Still it had to be done if they were to replicate the procedure. Better that he was here where the results were far more observable.
"Doctor Malynkov, we almost have it." One of the orderlies beckoned him over to the cadaver they were working on.
This one had an interesting story. He had taken a round from an anti-tank rifle to the back of his head then proceeded to wander aimlessly until they had put another one through his temple. For the last few hours the orderlies had been trying to cleanly open up his skull so that Nikolai could take a look at what sort of damage had been inflicted to the brain.
So far that sort of thing had proven to be common in between the corpses they had inspected. These panzermensch had all sustained injuries that should have been debilitating but had continued on beyond what any normal man could. That they could be injured and killed was of little consolation when a far larger threat loomed. The so called Battleships appeared to be invulnerable from everything that had been seen so far. Nikolai was certain that they too would have a weakness that could be exploited. They had to.
As the men finally managed to remove the upper portion of the skull Nikolai waved them off as he went in for a closer inspection. Trading his length of guts for a pair of forceps he grasped the edge of the crumpled bullet lodged in the brain and pulled it free. What was left was an indent no longer than Nikolai's thumb. A bullet of this size should have done far more damage to the brain. No wonder the man had been able to stay on his feet, even if his functions had been impaired.
"Remarkable." Nikolai said as he dropped the bullet into a sample pan.
Everything about this was wrong. These men should not exist. He should not be here. But in the midst of all these impossibilities Nikolai would find a way to put a stop to this German threat. There was no other option.