Peter Leonard - Voices of the Dead

Now he was free, a civilian again, wearing a chocolate-brown leisure suit, riding a train, duffel in the overhead, heading for Munich. Had been there once on leave. City with nightlife. He looked out the window, saw Heidelberg back there in the distance and said, “ Auf Wiedersehen , motherfuckers.”

“Gentlemen, the frame has been greatly simplified from the airships of old. There you see.” They were in Hangar 1. A team of workers was welding the skeletal frame of a Zeppelin, a long triangle of aluminum girders running from end to end. Hess had flown the heads of three American construction companies over to demonstrate the capabilities of his airships. A shiny new Zeppelin skinned in silver canvas hovered above concrete anchors, moored by heavy rope. “Let’s go outside. I have told you what the Hess AG Zeppelin can do. Now I will show you.” He extended his arm in a theatrical gesture. “Gentlemen, if you please.”

There was an airship hovering over the landing area. “The Hess Zeppelin is smaller, faster and more maneuverable than previous airships. It is designed to transport large and heavy loads to remote locations that would otherwise be inaccessible. It generates lift from a combination of aerodynamics, propellers and gas buoyancy. This airship has the ability to offload payload without taking on board ballast other than the air around it. By compressing and decompressing the stored gas, the Hess Zeppelin becomes lighter for take-off and heavier for flight.”

Now the ship started to lift off. “You see, the propellers swivel down for take-offs and landings, and they can be used as a steering system of their own, or coordinated with the rudders via the on-board computer.”

Mr. Owen Duvall from San Antonio, Texas said, “How do I know this balloon ain’t going to pop when it gets to my site?” He was wearing a white shirt with pearl buttons and a string tie under his fancy Western gentleman’s sport jacket.

“You are thinking of the Hindenburg, are you not?” They all did. Seeing 7,062,100 cubic feet of hydrogen explode, destroying the eight-hundred-foot ship in less than one minute, thirty-six people killed. But Hess did not mention this to his prospective customers. “The Hess Zeppelin is filled with lighter-than-air helium.” The irony was the Hindenburg was also designed and built for helium, but the United States, the world’s main supplier, had imposed a military embargo and‚ in 1937‚ would not sell the gas to Germany.

“Why don’t I just get me some helicopters?” Mr. Duvall said.

“Is a helicopter able to lift thirty tons?” A rhetorical question.

“No, I guess not,” Duvall said, pulling the ends of his tie.

“The Hess Zeppelin can rise vertically like a helicopter. It can turn three hundred and sixty degrees while hovering from a fixed position, and then lower the cargo with astonishing precision.”

“OK, Herr Hess, I’m convinced,” Mr. Duvall said. “Sign me up for one.”

Harry had bought a pair of Leitz ten-by-sixty central-focus binoculars at a hunting outfitter near Bahnhofplatz. Then drove south almost to Forstenrieder Park. Hess Aviation was set back two hundred yards from the highway on a flat piece of land behind a high fence topped with barbed wire, the snow-capped Bavarian Alps in the background. There was a modern three-storey steel and glass building that reminded Harry of the German Embassy in Washington DC, same spare style. Next to it were two hangars and between them a concrete apron and a landing strip.

Harry had followed Berman’s directions, pulled off the road and parked. Got out, closed the door and steadied his hands balancing the binoculars on the roof. There was something going on in the yard between the hangars. A short compact Zeppelin moored to a rope was floating above the concrete landing area. He saw Hess talking to a group of men, pointing at the airship and then at heavy construction equipment positioned next to it: steel girders, a dozer, backhoe, air compressor, generator, pile-driving equipment.

He watched as two steel girders were attached by a chain to the underside of the Zeppelin below the gondola, and the airship took off vertically, rising straight up, the steel beams dangling below it. Now the Zeppelin turned in a complete circle, hovering and placing the first girder on the low flat trailer of a semi parked in the background. He saw something out of the corner of his eye, looked up, it was another silver Zeppelin drifting through the clouds high overhead. He hadn’t noticed it before, probably because it was so overcast. At first he thought the Zeppelin was moving, gliding through the heavy clouds. He aimed the binoculars at it, and now he could see it was hovering above the airship factory, like it was keeping an eye on things.

Harry looked back at the airship demonstration and saw a car coming down the long entranceway toward him, a silver Volkswagen with HESS AG on the side in black, same logotype that was on the airships. It was time to go. He got in the BMW and got back on the highway, heading toward Munich.

He was looking out at the countryside, green meadow extending to the mountains, the towers and rooflines of a medieval village visible in the distance. The view reminding him of trips he used to take with his parents, car trips to Inzell and Königsee, with its pure green water, and Berchtesgaden, a picturesque village surrounded by nine alpine peaks, the most beautiful place Harry had ever seen, in spite of the fact that Hitler had had his retreat there.

A sign said Munich was ten kilometers away. Harry slowed down behind a semi. He glanced in the rearview mirror and saw a black Audi coming up fast behind him. Thought it was going to hit him, came so close he couldn’t see its grill. The windows were blacked out. Harry sped up, put a couple car lengths between them, but couldn’t go any faster because of the semi.

Cars were coming the other way on the two-lane road. He couldn’t pass. He watched the Audi close in again, and this time it banged into him. He felt the jolt and accelerated. The Audi caught him again and rammed him. He hit the brakes, feeling the impact and weight of the Audi, brake pads squealing, his adrenalin pumping.

Harry waited for an opening in traffic and cut left around the semi, flooring it, passed three cars, saw a Porsche speeding toward him and cut right back into his lane. He could see the Audi four cars back, waiting for a break in traffic. He had empty highway ahead and nailed it, needle climbing, one hundred, one ten, one fifteen. He could see the Audi make a move, swing out into the oncoming lane, passing the slower cars.

Up ahead Harry saw sheep in a tight group on the side of the road. He sped up and had enough room to swerve around two sheep in his lane starting to cross. But the Audi didn’t and he saw it hit the flock, sending three airborne, windshield shattered, the Audi losing control, spinning off the road.

Harry parked in front of the hotel, got out and moved to the back of the car. The bumper and trunk lid were dented. He gave his keys to the valet, glanced toward the Frauenkirche, saw the Zeppelin high in the clouds, glimpses of it appearing and then vanishing. Was it following him?

He went to the bar, ordered Dewar’s and soda, and thought about his situation. He was now 0 for 2. Struck out at Hess’ house, struck out again at his place of business. What the hell was he doing here? Maybe getting rammed by the Audi had woken him up, brought him to his senses. Was he really going to kill Hess? The idea now seemed absurd. He considered packing his things, going back to Detroit. Then he thought about Sara and knew he wasn’t going anywhere.

Harry went to his room and took a shower. He walked back in the bedroom with a towel wrapped around his waist, hair still wet. He was tired, pulled down the spread, sat on the bed, leaned back on pillows propped against the headboard and fell asleep.