David Golemon - Legacy

“Well, your English is so good, try describing this in a letter back home,” Jack said. He placed his M-16 over his shoulder and started down the steep trail, following the tracks of the electric cart.

“‘Amazing’ is the word that comes to mind,” Tram said as he turned to follow Collins.

The two men couldn’t help but be made uneasy by the false interior breeze that caused the tattered remains of the Nazi banners and streamers to sway and ripple in the wind. It was just another glorious day in the land of National Socialism.

“The day we stop running into more surprises left by these people, I think that’s the day I’ll retire,” Jack said, intending for Tram neither to hear nor to answer.

“They were very industrious, but how many men and women did the SS kill to get this mine dug?”

Jack eyed the Vietnamese sniper as he walked. He wondered why it had taken so long for the private to say something. Now he had an opinion about everything.

As they progressed down the steep incline of the man-made ramp, Jack had a feeling he was being watched, but from where he couldn’t tell. He heard Tram click the safety off on the old M-14; evidently he was feeling the same thing himself.

Far in back of them, near the steel doors, a pair of eyes was indeed watching. The Mechanic held up his hand. His men were anxious to get free of the exposed roadway. They were soaked from their climb up the waterfall and their entrance through the underground river. They had lost one man, who had drowned when the river had taken its downhill course under rock. They then had to fight to get up the rock wall Collins and Everett and his men had fallen from the previous week.

As the Mechanic watched Jack and his smaller companion walk the inclined trail, he finally gave the order for his men to follow, instructing them that they must do so from a great distance as he suspected more Americans were inside already.

Since his previous visits to the mine had been only cursory, the Mechanic knew he would have to be led to the valuable cache of advanced weaponry that he knew was hidden here. Once that was accomplished, he would return to his native Saudi Arabia and sell the specifications for whatever he found. From McCabe’s and Rawlins’s descriptions he knew it would be worth heaven itself to his cause.

The Mechanic fell into line and followed his men as he watched the long-ago flags flap in the strange breeze that seemed to come from nowhere.

As Alice and Sebastian gently sat Garrison Lee on a rock outcropping, Niles examined one of the buildings. He tore a flap of skin from the two-story structure that had been pushed in millions of years before by an earth movement that had slammed it askew of its neighbor. The age was such that any material or organics left over after this disaster had long since vanished. As Niles felt the strange material, he was approached by Appleby.

“It’s a composite, perhaps nylon, maybe a plastic and nylon weave, but it’s really too strong for that,” the man from DARPA said. He joined Niles, who handed the piece of material over to Alice and Lee. “It will take a while to learn how some of the materials survived in their original form, while others petrified.”

“I can’t imagine the violence of the earth that crushed the life out of this place,” Ellenshaw said. He moved the M-16 to his shoulder and looked into one of the glassless windows of the damaged enclosure.

Niles looked around and noticed small plaques had been placed in several rocks lining the ancient thoroughfare of crushed and mangled buildings. The words were in German and had been etched in the bronze of the embedded plaques.

“What do they say, Sebastian?” Niles asked the German major, who was examining the stone and its writing.

“Site excavated 16 June 1939. No sign of habitation at this level.”

“This level? You mean there’s another one under here?” Ellenshaw asked. He rolled down the sleeves of his tan shirt due to the briskness of the false breeze swirling inside the ruins.

“There must be,” Appleby said, as he leaned over and picked up something that caught his eye. “Major, what do you make of this?” he asked. He held out a small object. “There’s more than one here.”

Sebastian Krell took the small item and examined it. He laughed at what he was holding, then looked down and saw several more of the small round objects on the rock-covered ground around his feet.

“It’s the base cap, detonation ball, and string for the Model 24 Stielhandgranate. ”

“I didn’t catch that,” Ellenshaw said as he reached down to pick up one of the strange objects.

“A hand grenade,” Lee said. He tried to make himself comfortable on a large rock as Alice slid the needle full of synthetic morphine into his right arm. “A Potato Masher. I’m sure you’ve seen them in war movies, Charlie,” Lee said with a smile. A horrified look came over Ellenshaw’s features and he dropped the small screw cap onto the ground. “But the cap covers are harmless.”

“Maybe they used them for blasting purposes,” Appleby said.

Sebastian looked around himself and closed his fist over the detonator cap cover.

“Possible, but why? I mean, there are so many adequate explosives, why use such a small device? The Model 24 didn’t even have a shrapnel charge.”

“The major’s right,” Lee finished as he rolled down his sleeve and nodded at Alice. “Why use them for blasting? That’s too inefficient. Our old friends the Nazis didn’t operate that way,”

“A mystery among many,” Sebastian said. He looked around the gallery at the taller structures. “These buildings, they remind me of field setups used by the army. Do you agree, Mr. Everett?”

Carl stepped out of the tilted and damaged structure not one person had seen him disappear into when they arrived.

“Yes, they do. It’s like these were temporary structures that housed troops until more substantial housing could be erected.”

“Is there anything interesting inside the building?” Alice asked as she closed and clasped the small medical bag.

Everett looked over at Alice and the senator as they waited for him to answer. He had a curious look on his face.

“You could say that. The Germans have everything documented and labeled inside. The flooring-which looks to be wood of some kind-is old and petrified, but still intact. There are several of these,” he said. He tossed an object toward Alice, who caught it and looked it over before handing it to Lee. “It has the same writing on it that was on the space suit.”

Lee looked at what amounted to an ancient can. It was empty of its long-ago contents, but it may have once contained food. Lee hefted it; it was far lighter than its modern-day equivalent.

“Okay, the Germans marked the trash in the garbage,” the professor from MIT said. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“That means they were pretty efficient at keeping this dig in pristine condition. Removing nothing from the dwellings, keeping everything as is for scientific study.”

Lee saw where Everett was going with this.

“So the Nazis insisted on accountability,” Sebastian said, as he took the can from Lee and examined it. “That’s true in every red tape society.”

“What’s missing in there, Captain?” Lee asked. He had begun to feel the pain-relieving effects of the morphine.

“There’s nothing. No tables, no chairs, no canned goods stored anywhere. No mess had been created when the cataclysm erupted around them. The closets are empty, the metal containers that held something at one time have nothing in them.”

“Are you suggesting that the beings who occupied this settlement weren’t here when the Andes started strutting their stuff?” Lee asked. He eased himself up from the rock.