Now, in pompous tones, he went on, “TheFuhrer declares that, as the Race has intolerably occupied territory rightfully German and refuses to leave such territory regardless of the illegitimacy of that occupation, theReich is fully justified in taking the strongest measure against the Race, and has now initiated those measures. We-”
Molotov knew a sinking sensation at the pit of his stomach. So the Nazi had had a reason for summoning everyone. The fascist regime had launched another sneak attack and was now, in a pattern long familiar, offering some trumped-up rationale for whatever its latest unprovoked act of aggression had been.
Sure enough, von Ribbentrop continued, “-have emphasized our legitimate demands by the detonation of this latest explosive-metal bomb, and by the military action following it. God will give the GermanReich the victory it deserves.” The German foreign minister refolded the paper, put it away, and shot out his right arm in the Nazi salute.“Heil Hitler!”
Anthony Eden, Shigenori Togo, and George Marshall all looked as shaken as Molotov felt. So much for the popular front: Hitler had consulted with no one before resuming the war. He and, all too likely, everyone else would have to pay the price.
Uotat finished hissing and popping and squeaking for Atvar. Molotov waited for the Lizard fleetlord to explode, and to threaten to rain down hideous destruction on Germany for what it had just done. The foreign commissar would have faced that prospect with considerable equanimity.
Instead, Atvar directed only a few words to the interpreter, who said, “The exalted fleetlord tells me to tell you he is looking into this statement.” As Uotat spoke, the fleetlord left the room.
He came back a few minutes later, and spoke several sentences to the translator. One by one, Uotat turned them into English. As he did so, Donskoi translated them into Russian for Molotov:
“The exalted fleetlord wonders why the negotiator for the not-empire of Deutschland has had us come here to listen to a statement bearing no resemblance to any sort of reality. No atomic explosion has occurred in or near Deutschland. No atomic explosion, in fact, has occurred anywhere on Tosev 3. No unusual military activity of any sort by Deutsch forces is noted. The exalted fleetlord asks whether your brain is addled, spokesmale von Ribbentrop, or that of yourFuhrer.”
Von Ribbentrop stared at Atvar. Along with the other human negotiators, Molotov stared at von Ribbentrop. Something had gone spectacularly wrong somewhere: that much was obvious. But what? And where?
Otto Skorzeny pressed down on the red button till his thumbnail turned white with the pressure. Heinrich Jager waited for the southern horizon to light up with a brief new sun, and for the artillery barrage that would follow. Over the intercom, he spoke quietly to Johannes Drucker. “Be ready to start the engine.”
“Jawohl, Herr Oberst,”the panzer driver answered.
But the new sun did not rise. The mild Polish summer day continued undisturbed. Skorzeny jammed his thumb down on the button again. Nothing happened. “Christ on His cross,” the SS man muttered. Then, when that proved too weak to satisfy him, he ground out, “Goddamned motherfucking son of a shit-eating bitch.” He tried the transmitter one more time before throwing it to the ground in disgust He turned to the blackshirt beside him. “Get me the backup unit.Schnell”
“Jawohl, Herr Standartenfuhrer!”The other SS officer dashed away, to return in short order with a pack and transmitter identical to the ones that had failed.
Skorzeny flipped the activating switch and pressed the red button on the new transmitter. Again the bomb in Lodz failed to explode. “Shit,” Skorzeny said wearily, as if even creative obscenity were more trouble than it was worth. He started to smash the second transmitter, but checked himself. Shaking his head, he said, “Something’s fucked up somewhere. Go and broadcastEGGPLANT on the general-distribution frequencies.”
“EGGPLANT?” The other SS man looked like a dog watching a juicy bone being taken away. “Must we?”
“Bet your arse we must, Maxi,” Skorzeny answered. “If the bomb doesn’t go off, we don’t move. The bomb hasn’t gone off. Now we have to send out the signal to let the troops know the attack’s on hold. We’ll sendKNIFE as soon as it goes up. Now move, damn you! If some overeager idiot opens up because he didn’t get thehalt signal, Himmler’ll wear your guts for garters.”
Jager had never imagined an SS officer named Maxi. He’d never imagined anybody, no matter what his name was, could move so fast. “What now?” he asked Skorzeny.
He’d seldom seen the big, bluff Austrian indecisive, but that was the only word that fit “Damned if I know,” Skorzeny answered. “Maybe some sexton or whatever the kikes call them spotted the aerial hooked up to the grave marker and tore it loose. If that’s all it is, a simple reconnection would get things going again without much trouble. If it’s anything more than that, if the Jews have their hands on the bomb…” He shook his head. “That could be downright ugly. For some reason or other, they don’t exactly love us.” Even his laugh, usually a great fierce chortle, rang hollow now.
For some reason or other.That was as close as Skorzeny would come to acknowledging what theReich had done to the Jews. It was closer than a lot of German officers came, but it was not close enough, not as far as Jager was concerned. He said, “What are you going to do about it?”
Skorzeny looked at him as if he were the idiot. “What do you think I’m going to do? I’m going to shag ass down to Lodz and make that fucker work, one way or the other. Like I say, I hope the problem’s just with the aerial. But if it’s not, if the Jews really did get wind of this some kind of way, I’ll manage just fine, thank you very much.”
“You can’t be thinking of going by yourself,” Jager exclaimed. “If the Jews do have it”-he didn’t know himself, not for sure-“they’ll turn you into ablutwurst quick as boiled asparagus.” The classics sometimes came in handy in the oddest ways.
Skorzeny shook his head again. “You’re wrong, Jager. It’ll be a-what do the RAF bastards call it? — a piece of cake, that’s what. There’s a cease-fire on, remember? Even if the kikes have stolen the bomb, they won’t be guarding it real hard. Why should they? They won’t know we know they’ve got it, because they can’t figure we’d try and set it off in the middle of a truce.” His leer had most of its old force back. “Of course not. We’re good little boys and girls, right? Except for one thing: I’m not a good little boy.”
“Mm, I’d noticed that,” Jager said dryly. Now Skorzeny’s laugh was full of his wicked vinegar-he recovered fast. He was also damned good at thinking on his feet; every word he said sounded reasonable. “When are you leaving?”
“Soon as I change clothes, get some rations, and take care of a couple of things here,” the SS man answered. “If the bomb goes up, it’ll give those scaly sons of bitches a kick in the teeth they’ll remember for a long time.” In absurdly coquettish fashion, he fluttered his fingers at Jager and tramped away.
From the cupola of the Panther, Jager stared after him. With his unit on full battle alert, how the devil was he supposed to get away and get word to Mieczyslaw so he could pass it on to Anielewicz by whatever roundabout route he used? The answer was simple, and stared Jager in the face: he couldn’t. But if he didn’t, he worried not just about thousands of Jews going up in a toadstool-shaped cloud of dust, but also about Germany. Whatwould the Lizards visit on theVaterland for touching off an atomic bomb during a truce? Jager didn’t know. He didn’t want to find out, either.
From down in the turret of the Panther, Gunther Grillparzer said, “No show today after all, Colonel?”