Blood Red Sand

by Damien Larkin

  “Herr Feldmarschall.” General Schulz strode up beside him. “The reports you requested.”

  Seidel took the papers and skimmed the latest updates. He flicked his cigarette butt away and paused as he checked the reports, finding one missing. He looked up at General Schulz, ready to demand an explanation, but then General Schulz reached into his satchel and produce a single slip of paper.

  “I thought you should see this last, Herr Feldmarschall.”

  Although he tried not to show it, Seidel’s heart pounded. Hours ago, he had requested additional reinforcements from the SS, yet no black uniforms mingled with the Wehrmacht’s grey or the Volkssturm’s mix of grey, brown, green, and khaki. Reichsführer Wagner had promised him the full support of his SS forces to bolster the depleted Wehrmacht garrison, but they had yet to show.

  As he scanned the words on the page, it took all of his reserve not to tremble from sheer rage. He read and re-read the words, willing it not to be true. He wanted to believe that stress or tiredness had damaged his ability to absorb information, but no matter how many times he examined the message, the words and their meaning remained the same. He crumbled the paper in his hands and looked up at General Schulz’s face. The paleness of his skin confirmed the truth of it.

  ‘“The SS have withdrawn their forces to New Berlin’s government district,’” Seidel recited in a quiet tone. ‘“The SS will take no part in the defence of New Berlin and will focus on defending the Führer, party members, and their families. A protective ring has been established around the government district and Wehrmacht forces are forbidden from entering this zone without express permission, under penalty of death.’”

  General Schulz cleared his throat. “It sounds like the SS are preparing to make their last stand.”

  “No.” Seidel shook his head and placed another cigarette between his lips. “This only confirms my suspicion. The SS are planning to surrender the colony to the British. But in order to do so, they need the Wehrmacht out of the way. We have the strength to challenge them, so they need us dead. Why dirty their own hands when the British will do it for them?”

  “But why?” General Schulz said in a hushed tone.

  Seidel merely shrugged. He struck a match and took a few rapid puffs of his cigarette before exhaling and looking across at the grubby buildings of the Jewish ghetto. “Who can ever truly understand the motivations of vermin,” he mumbled.

  General Schulz started to speak, but Seidel raised his hand and silenced him. He took a few more drags on his cigarette before returning his focus to his subordinate. “Has the Volkssturm been fully mobilised?”

  “No, Herr Feldmarschall. They are still in the process of—”

  “As soon as they’re mobilised, have all available units report to the four colony entrances to bolster the Wehrmacht defences there. Issue an immediate order demanding all men of military age to report to Wehrmacht barracks for conscription. We don’t need to hold New Berlin, Herr General. We just need to hold out long enough for our forces to return from the aborted exercise.”

  “Yes, Herr Feldmarschall,” General Schulz said with a click of his boots.

  He turned to leave when Seidel extended a hand and took him by the elbow. “I want you to oversee the attack on the Jewish insurrectionists. We must remove them as a potential threat before the real fighting begins. I hereby order you to take any and all measures necessary to pacify the situation. Liquidate the entire ghetto if you must.”

  An unexpected sliver of fear cut across the young general’s face.

  Seidel glared into his eyes, searching for any signs of cowardice or betrayal.

  “Herr Feldmarschall, there are women and children—”

  “Liquidate the ghetto,” Seidel ordered.

  General Schulz turned to leave when a low rumbling emanated from around them. For a moment, Seidel thought it to be the beginning of an artillery barrage, but the noise sounded far closer and not as menacing. They glanced at one another in confusion, before looking upwards at the tinted dome that towered over the colony.

  Seidel gaped in stunned amazement as a rectangular aerial craft whizzed over the dome in complex manoeuvres, appearing metres away from it at best. It took a moment for him to process what he was seeing. As he struggled to articulate it, a young messenger appeared at his side with a single envelope in his hand.

  Seidel waved the young soldier away before slipping open the envelope and unfolding the paper inside. He scanned the two lines of text and then crumpled it up. Despite himself, he couldn’t help but smile at the calamity of it all.

  “What is it, Herr Feldmarschall?” General Schulz asked, although from the look on his face, he appeared to already have guessed the answer.

  “It’s the British,” Seidel said after a moment of silence. “They’ve arrived earlier than expected. They’re massing for an attack on the colony.”

  COMMAND AND CONTROL BUILDING, GOVERNMENT DISTRICT

  15.34 MST

  DAY 1

  Reichsführer Wagner stood behind the protective reinforced glass of his main science lab and watched as the various scientists and technicians bustled around. It had taken most of the day to calibrate the so-called Compression Matrix, but now, the stars were ready to align. After a thorough series of diagnostics and last-minute tune-ups, his head scientist, Doctor Josef Graf, confirmed the preparations for the Compression Matrix’s first human trial as complete.

  With a satisfied smile, Wagner’s concentration fell onto one of the two medical trolleys in the secure room slanted upright at an angle. With her hands and legs bound to the trolley, Anna Bailey lay perfectly still, radiating a serene calmness as her gaze tracked the last two technicians in the room. A silver, metallic headband rested on her forehead, like a tiara. The other bed lay motionless, with a single sheet draped over its unmoving occupant.

  “The moment of truth is almost upon us,” Wagner said and pressed the intercom button on the control panel in front of him. “In mere minutes we shall prove that the technology of the ancients is adaptable to the needs of modern man. Your sacrifice will not be forgotten, Miss Bailey, I assure you.”

  He nodded towards one of the remaining technicians in the room and the man selected an empty syringe from one of the metal pop-up tables beside the trolley. A single blood test for analysis was all that remained until humanity’s new epoch could be ushered in. Laying as frozen as a statue, Anna didn’t even flinch when the syringe punctured her skin and the technician drew blood from her.

  The technician had just taken his blood sample and turned to leave when he halted to do a double-take. With speed that beggared belief, Anna freed her left hand from its restraint. Bound by her other limbs, she lunged, and her lithe forearm snapped around the technician’s neck. In a single motion, she swung the surprised technician backwards, causing him to lose his footing and sending the table full of instruments scattering to the floor. Choking him, she pulled his entire body on top of her. Despite his bucking and his bodyweight leaning on her, she snatched the set of keys that dangled from his waist with her restrained right hand.

  “Stop this!” Wagner screamed, signalling at the SS guards. “Stop this now!”

  The second technician bounded towards her, but with her prize in her right hand, she gave a violent jerk of her left arm. A sickening crack echoed throughout the room when she snapped the first technician’s neck without even breaking a sweat. His lifeless body slumped to the floor, tripping his colleague. The technician stumbled and crashed into Anna. Even while her right hand methodically worked the keys to undo her restraints, she seemed to see everything three steps ahead. With her free hand, she grabbed the technician by the hair and jerked his head upwards, lifting him at an awkward angle before driving his skull into the metal railing at the side of her trolley. He struck the railing with enough force to send him slamming backwards into the second trolley nearby.

  By the time the SS guards reached the door of the science lab
, Anna had freed herself from her restraints. Only the metallic headband rested on her crown. Like a prize fighter eager for a bout to begin, she raised her iron fists and bounced on the balls of her feet, ready to throw herself into the action.

  The door swung open and the guards, sporting the bruises and wounds from their earlier encounter, stormed in with their batons drawn. The first SS soldier growled as he charged, lifting his baton to strike, but something about Anna’s normally laser-like gaze had changed. For the first time, despite all previous experiments, Wagner thought he sensed unbridled rage.

  She surged into action, like a wild animal pouncing on its prey. With her left forearm, she easily deflected the blow from the baton as her right fist struck with the power of a precision-aimed missile. She punched the SS guard straight in the throat with almost enough force to take his head clean off. His lifeless carcass fell backwards and crashed into his fellow guards.

  Not waiting for them to react, Anna went on the offensive. She targeted the guard on the left, driving the palm of her left hand upwards, catching the guard square on the nose. The force of the blow rammed the cartilage of the SS soldier’s nose into his brain and he too fell at her feet. Without pausing, she swung about and, using her momentum, threw her elbow into the face of another guard, stunning him.

  The three still-standing guards swung their batons, impatient to land a blow. Their weapons caught air as Anna danced between them, as if seeing every possible action they could make seconds before it happened. She dropped to the ground and swung her right leg about, sweeping the legs of one of the guards from under him. As he hurtled to the floor, she seized his baton and drove the hard-plastic point of it directly into the groin of another attacker. He howled as he tumbled backwards, but Anna pressed onward. She lifted her baton and brought it downwards, smashing his jawbone into pieces.

  Wagner watched as the last SS guard found himself completely alone. Three of his men lay dead at the remaining guard’s feet, and two lay unconscious, unable to assist him. A flash of nervousness cut across the guard’s face as he eyed Anna.

  Anna ignored the blood splatter that dotted her cheeks and wiped a strand of hair behind her ear. She placed a dainty foot forward, stepping over the carpet of bodies and moved into range of the last SS soldier.

  He darted forward first, with his left forearm raised to deflect blows, and drew back his baton with his right hand. He swung a blow, but Anna reacted quicker. She whipped her head backwards, and the tip of the baton came within an inch from grazing her chin before she lunged at her attacker. She rammed the point of her baton into the soldier’s gut. The SS soldier fell to his knees but continued to lash out at Anna. Grinning like a lioness ready to sink her jaws into her prey, she avoided his attack with ease. Then she slammed her own baton across his head, knocking him to the ground.

  Anna glanced up at Wagner. She lifted the SS soldier to his knees and placed the baton under the stunned guard’s chin. She gripped both ends of the weapon, and gave a savage jerk, breaking her opponent’s neck. She released her hold and let the body slump to the floor before locking her hard gaze on Wagner.

  “You must stop this now!” Wagner demanded while he pounded on the reinforced glass of the lab. “We stand on the brink of glory!”

  “I tried as hard as I could to stop you.” She dropped her baton to the floor. “I failed in my mission. But I will not stand idly by and be forced to take part in this abomination.”

  Taking to a knee, Anna patted at the dead SS guard’s belt. She worked her way down his legs until she found a knife concealed in his right boot. She slipped the knife out of its sheath, and stood, with the blade gripped in her right hand.

  “Reinforcements are on the way,” Wagner shouted, failing to mask the panic in his voice. “Their lives mean nothing to me. You are everything. You hold the key. You know that, Miss Bailey.”

  “I’m well aware, Herr Reichsführer,” Anna said, flashing him one of her trademark smiles. “I truly believe only one life is of importance to you and your experiments, and I intend to make sure you don’t have it. God save the Queen.”

  With a single, fluid motion, Anna lifted the knife to her throat and slid the blade across it. A waterfall of crimson ran down her neck, drenching her hospital gown. The knife slipped from her fingers and clattered to the ground. She fell to her knees, with her head held high. Wagner screamed and banged on the reinforced glass, too stunned to do anything else. Doctor Graf yanked open the science lab door and raced to place his hand over the wound. Anna tumbled into his arms as her lifeblood seeped from her. A victorious smile was plastered across her pale face as she gazed at Wagner.

  Her eyelids lowered. “God save the Queen,” she mouthed.

  “No,” Wagner said as his dreams turned to ashes.

  He reached his trembling hand over to the lever in front of him. With tears in his eyes, he yanked the lever down, causing the machine in the back of the science lab to hum to life.

  “No!” Doctor Graf screamed while frantically trying to stop the bleeding. “She’s too weak. Herr Reichsführer, you must stop this now.”

  Ignoring the doctor’s advice, Wagner pressed his finger down on the red button in front of him. Sparks of electricity danced over the Compression Matrix as it powered a signal from the headband resting on Anna’s forehead. SS guards and medics stormed into the room, desperate to save their prisoner’s life. Anna’s body writhed and twitched when a surge of energy coursed through her, pulling her consciousness from her mind like a magnet. Doctor Graf howled at him as the medics attempted to seal Anna’s wound, but Wagner ignored the doctor. The light faded from his captive’s eyes before he turned to face the readouts on the screens in front of him.

  In the science lab, Doctor Graf and one of the medics had succeeded in sealing the wound across Anna’s throat. They lifted her pale, limp body onto her trolley and continued checking her vitals.

  Wagner watched her chest rise and fall in slow mechanical actions as the doctor set his fingers on her wrist to check her pulse. Even with her breathing, her eyes remained vacant and wide open.

  With panic threatening to overwhelm him, Wagner rapped on the screens in front of him, waiting for the results of the experiment. His heart sank as the seconds stretched on, and his gaze moved from the instruments to the cloth-covered trolley sitting on the other side of the science lab. Placing his gloved fist into his mouth, he sank his teeth into his own fingers. His life’s work sat on a funeral pyre as the future went up in flames.

  A single beep from his console caused Wagner to lower his hand. After wiping the tears from his eyes, he rapped at the screen again. Another beep sent a rush of excitement through him. He stared in amazement and waited for a third beep before he sprang into action. Shoving past the SS guards who tended to their dead and wounded comrades, Wagner ran into the science lab. He nearly knocked a bewildered Doctor Graf from his feet when he pushed past the unmoving husk of Anna Bailey and made for the second trolley. The stunned doctor fell in beside him, and they waited with bated breath, hovering over the blanketed trolley.

  It started with a small movement at first; a barely perceptible twitch. Wagner and the doctor watched in amazement when the sheet rose and fell as lungs sucked in air of their own accord. A trembling hand slipped from under the covers, causing the doctor to leap forward and check for a pulse.

  Too astonished to speak, Doctor Graf spun about and nodded.

  Marvelling at his work, Wagner clasped his gloved hands together. With the implications dancing through his mind, he forced his mental reserves into action to stop himself from collapsing to the ground and drowning in tears of joy.

  “You did it, Herr Reichsführer,” Doctor Graf said and whipped the blanket from the face of the woman on the trolley. “You have successfully transferred human consciousness from a host body to a replicated one. The implications are—”

  Wagner swung a lamp from over the trolley and positioned it over the face of the un
conscious woman. “I need to be sure.”

  With a flick of a switch, a piercing white light blazed down on the vacant eyes that looked up at it. It took a moment, but those deep, mesmerising eyes blinked, slowly.

  Wagner covered his mouth when the eye blinks and breathing increased. The woman’s chest heaved faster and faster, sucking New Berlin’s recycled air deeper and deeper into her chest. Her hands balled into fists. Her legs twitched against the restraints.

  Anna screamed the moment her senses exploded to life. Still shrieking, her eyebrows arched as her gaze rested upon a body that looked like hers, with a bandage covering the neck, lying across from her.

  Overwhelmed by the strange sights and sounds, Anna Bailey, the first incarnation of the Hollow Programme, collapsed into unconsciousness.

  OUTSKIRTS OF NEW BERLIN COLONY

  16.42 MST

  DAY 1

  Sergeant McCabe and the soldiers of the Mars Expeditionary Force gazed with hungry eyes at the Nazi colony below them. Eight hundred metres of open ground separated them from their prize. Nestled behind a line of rocky hills that could better be described as sand dunes, an unceasing convoy of transports had airlifted the MEF soldiers into position. Unharried by anti-aircraft fire, the transport aircraft of the crippled USAF North Carolina and the USAF Ambrose Burnside swung through the air with impunity, dropping off a steady flow of exhausted soldiers before setting off to ferry more in for the coming engagement. Already, an understrength division of hastily assembled survivors stood ready to mete out punishment to the enemy.

  McCabe lowered the binoculars from his helmet visor and shook his head. He handed them back to Corporal Brown, glanced at his platoon spread out to his left and right, and lowered his voice. “The brass is adamant that there’s no mines out there, but I don’t like it. Who builds a colony without defences? Fritz has had ten years to prepare for this. I find it hard to believe they’ll let us waltz right in.”