Vengeance 10

‘That depends upon the priorities and budget restrictions under which we would have to operate. And of course, approval from the chancellory. The Führervisited us early this year at Kummersdorf and seemed not in the least impressed with our rockets.’

Speer only murmured a noncommittal response to Dornberger’s probe, and during the long silence that followed they could hear the gentle slap of waves on the sand.

* * *

An hour later Franz Bethwig and Wernher von Braun walked along the beach as they often did before retiring. Usually they reviewed the day’s events, discussed new ideas, or speculated idly about the future of rocketry. Tonight von Braun was quiet, resisting Bethwig’s attempts to draw him into conversation. Finally, in exasperation, Franz swore at him.

Von Braun grunted and shoved his hands deeper into his pockets. ‘I have a feeling that everything is about to change, and I don’t know if for better or worse. It seems to me that today we took the first real step towards space. The A-Five performed beautifully under control. We’ve proven what we knew all along, and now we have only to build ever bigger versions until we are there.’ He waved a hand vaguely at the sky and shook his head in exasperation. ‘But I… I just have a feeling that we are being sidetracked. Walter talks only about war rockets, and this Speer character agrees with him. Did you see how they all listened whenever he said anything? I don’t want to waste time building war rockets. Let the army find someone else to do that. We’ve shown them how.’

‘Don’t forget’ — Bethwig grinned — ‘you are in the army, my friend. Or at least paid by them, which amounts to the same thing.’

‘Don’t remind me.’

‘Why not? So far you’ve just wasted a great deal of energy kicking against the inevitable. You know as well as I why the army wants rockets. Goering was here today to see how much of a threat they might be to his precious bombers. I have a feeling this Speer is more than he seems; in fact, I suspect he was sent to keep an eye on Goering. Who knows what’s going on in Berlin these days? Even my father has gotten to be quite vague about it. But whatever, our salary is paid by the army, and if they tell us to build war rockets, I don’t see that we have any other choice. Do you?’

‘I guess not,’ von Braun mumbled.

The moon was nearly full and hung in mid-sky, a silver beacon strong enough to light the beach. Franz stared at it, trying to imagine as he had done a thousand times since childhood what it would be like to walk across its surface. It was not only that barren desert of frozen, airless stone that drew him, but rather the promise of what was to follow. The moon and the various planets of the solar system were only the beginning. There was a universe beyond to be explored and bent to man’s will. Mankind needed something greater than itself to challenge, if for no other reason than to refocus selfish thoughts and petty concerns. Space travel offered the ultimate goal, stars in their billions with unlimited room for the race to grow and expand.

Bethwig and von Braun shared that dream, had done so since the early days of the Verein fur Raumschiffahrt (Society for Space Travel), a small group of dedicated amateurs with a common goal: the realisation of space travel. The VfR was formed in 1929, and in the ensuing months he and von Braun had forged an uneasy alliance — this despite his own shyness and von Braun’s unconscious arrogance — as they were two of the very few members with sufficient private resources to allow them to devote endless hours to society projects.

Their friendship had grown, and when the Gestapo disbanded the society in 1932 and the army seduced von Braun in return for a university degree and a well-paying job building rockets, it was Bethwig he had hired first. Franz still remembered the excited telephone call, could still hear von Braun shouting over the static: ‘I tell you, they will actually pay us to build rockets!’

Bethwig broke the silence. ‘I talked with an army officer this morning. He told me that troops are gathering along the Polish border and have been doing so for weeks now. He thinks we’ll attack Poland before summer is out. If that’s true, we could be at war with England and France within a few months. And if that happens, the Reich will need war rockets, as many as we can build, and the fatherland will not be able to afford the cost of building a moon rocket. At least not for a good many years.’

Von Braun went on a few more steps. The night was growing cool, and they both shivered when a vagrant wind slid landward.

‘Perhaps you’re right,’ he murmured. ‘I don’t know. How can you believe anything they tell us? You would think we were surrounded by bloodthirsty enemies just waiting to destroy Germany for ever. First it was the Czechs and now the Poles. Who’ll be next? The French, the Russians, the British?’