by John Shirley
He went up and down the line, and when he was done he had a supernatural army composed of twelve Heinrichs and an Adolf (just in case he ever had to present one to the Fuhrer).
“Okay,” said one of the Heinrichs. “We’re here and we’re named. Now what?”
“Now we wait to see what that scrawny little white-haired turncoat in America has planned for us, and then we meet his creatures in battle, cut out their hearts, tie them up with their own entrails, cut off their heads, spit down their necks, and—”
“Stop!" cried the nearest Heinrich, grabbing his stomach. “I’m going to be sick!”
Himmler sighed deeply. Maybe if he’d sacrificed an iguana….
“So what can your government do for you, Little Al?” said President Roosevelt, seated behind his desk in the Oval Office. “And make it snappy. I’ve got a war to fight.”
“I am here to warn you of a dire threat to our troops,” replied Einstein.
“What could be more dire than the German army?” said Roosevelt. “By the way, that’s a hell of goiter on your hip. You’d better have it looked at.”
“Hips don’t have goiters,” answered Einstein, pulling a crystal ball out of his pocket and sitting it down on the desk in front of the President. “Take a look.”
Roosevelt leaned forward and stared. “There’s nothing there.”
“The square root of one is one!" intoned Einstein. “Now look at it.”
“My God, that’s remarkable!” exclaimed Roosevelt.
“I thought you should see it,” said Einstein.
“How does she twirl them in both directions at the same time?”
Einstein bent over the desk. “Damn!” he said. “I forgot to adjust the channel. Algebra kadabra!"
“What’s this?” asked Roosevelt, frowning and staring into the crystal. “It looks like a men’s basketball team.”
“It’s thirteen invulnerable Aryan supermen, called up from the deepest pits of hell by none other than Heinrich Himmler,” answered Einstein. “Defeating the German army will be a hard enough chore for General Eisenhower. We must destroy these super-Aryans before he has to face them.”
“We?” said Roosevelt with a worried expression on his face. “You mean you and me?”
“No, sir,” said Einstein. “We need you at the helm of State. What I’ve come for is Big El.”
“Big El?”
“Your wife, Eleanor.”
“She’s yours, Little Al, and good luck to you,” said Roosevelt with an unconcerned shrug. “Now to business: what do you need to defeat Himmler’s horrendous horde from hell?”
“I just told you.”
“You did?”
“Big El,” repeated Einstein.
“Oh,” said Roosevelt. “I thought you meant … never mind.” He paused. “Are you quite sure she’s what you need?”
“Absolutely,” said Einstein. “She’s spent the last few years fighting big business, and Southern bigots, and isolationists, and Republicans. She’s in better fighting shape than any other American.”
“But can she stand up to these super Aryans?” persisted Roosevelt.
“If she and I together can’t do it, with my mystical powers and her indomitable spirit, then no one can.”
“What the hell,” said Roosevelt with a shrug. “If you feel she’s what you need….” He picked up the crystal ball and stared at it. “How do I bring back the original image?”
“The girl with the … uh…?”
“Yes.”
“Kadabra algebra," chanted Einstein. “Nothing to it.” He walked to the door. “I’ll pick Eleanor up on my way out.”
“Fine,” said Roosevelt, staring at the crystal ball.
“We go now to save the world.”
“Good,” said Roosevelt without looking up. “Go.”
Einstein opened the door. The last thing he heard before closing it behind him was the President musing wistfully: “I wonder if she’s got a phone number?”
“I’m not going to do it!”
Eleanor Roosevelt was standing in Einstein’s book-lined basement, some twenty feet away from him.
“But you’re the only one who can, Big El,” he said.
“Never!”
“I’ll protect you,” promised Einstein. “I’ve got a spell that even Fermat couldn’t solve. I’ll invoke Isaac Newton himself.”
“No!”
“But why not?” he asked, mystified. “You are potentially the greatest warrior woman who ever lived.”
“I’m not wearing that skimpy little warrior princess outfit until I lose thirty-five pounds and get a dye job.”
Einstein lowered his head and put his prodigious brain to work, finally looking up at her. “You’ve got it all wrong, Big El,” he said soothingly. “You don’t want to lose an ounce. If anything, you should gain some weight.”
She looked at him as if he was crazy.
“Think about it,” he urged her. “You’re not trying to dazzle them with your beauty, but to terrify them with your muscle and your demeanor. The more formidable you look, the better.”
“I’m a woman in her fifties,” protested Eleanor. “I can’t go around with a bare midriff and bare thighs and bare shoulders and….”
“We’ll compromise,” offered Einstein. “You can cover your left shoulder.”
“And what is Himmler’s horrendous horde wearing?” she asked.
“In my most recent visualization of the Cosmic All, they were wearing leather skirts and nothing else.”
“Nothing else?” she repeated, arching an eyebrow.
“That’s right.”
“Skirts,” she repeated. “Are they … you know?”
“They’re ten-foot-tall killers,” answered Einstein. “Does it make a difference what they do in their spare time?”
“I just want to know if they’re sizing me up for the battle to come or ogling me.”
Einstein stared at her thoughtfully for a long moment. “I don’t think there’s any doubt which they’re doing,” he said.
“All right,” she said at last. “If my country needs me that badly, I’ll do it. But along with the rest of the outfit, I have to have boots.”
“You won’t be traveling through rough terrain,” he assured her. “We’re just going to Gestapo headquarters.”
“It’s not that,” said Eleanor. “I have varicose veins, and I want them covered up. Otherwise the battle’s off.”
He nodded his agreement. “Now let’s talk about weapons.”
“Right,” she agreed. “I want a .44 Magnum, six hand grenades, and a repeating rifle.”
“You’ll have a sword.”
“That’s all?” she demanded.
“It will be an enchanted one.” He pulled a kitchen knife out of his pocket, whispered "Archimedes" over it, and it instantly morphed into a wicked-looking sword, which he handed to her.
She looked at it briefly, and then said, “And these Aryans will all be armed with enchanted submachine guns, I presume?”
Einstein shrugged. “Who knows?”
“Well, I’d like to know,” said Eleanor. “You’re not going out there half-naked and armed with only a sword to face thirteen blond giants.”
“I’ll be there sharing the danger with you, Big El.”
“Side by side?” she asked, relaxing visibly.
“Well, in the same city, anyway,” he said. “While you’re taking care of the horrendous horde, I’ll be engaged in a duel of spells with Himmler himself.”
“You’re going to have a spelling bee while I’m fighting thirteen hate-filled barbarian Aryan giants?”
“Try not to understand me so fast,” said Einstein. “If I don’t subdue Himmler while you are occupying his fearless, merciless, invulnerable, incredibly strong warriors, he might conjure up fifty more.”
Eleanor considered the situation. “I have a suggestion, Little Al,” she said. “Why don’t I handle Himmler while you take on his hideous horde?”
“Tha
t’s his horrendous horde,” Einstein corrected her.
“What’s the difference?”
“One you have to fight single-handedly, and the other doesn’t exist.”
She merely glared at him.
Einstein fidgeted uncomfortably until she finally turned away from him. Then he spoke again: "You’d better get into your warrior princess outfit. In the interest of decorum (and possibly self-preservation) I’ll turn my back while you change.”
“How are we getting there?” she asked, starting to unbutton her suit coat, which she wore over her vest, which she wore over her blouse, which she wore over her slip, which she wore … but you get the idea.
“We’re flying, all thanks to Leonardo,” he said, staring at some complex formulae on his blackboard while she changed.
“Leonardo?” she repeated, staring at facsimiles of some of the Italian’s notebooks on a shelf. “Have you actually found a way to turn us into winged creatures who can ride the warm thermals?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Leonardo da Vinci’s organic airplanes,” she said.
“No,” answered Einstein. “I’m talking about my friend Leonardo Schwartz. He has a private plane, and will be flying us there.”
He continued staring at the blackboard for another five minutes.
“How’s it coming, Big El?” he asked.
“I feel … what’s the right word? … flimsy,” she said uncomfortably. “You can turn around and look now, Little Al. But no whistling or catcalling—and especially no giggling,” she added threateningly.
He turned and looked at the warrior princess. “I think I can resist the urge to whistle,” he said earnestly.
“I wear more than this when I go to the beach,” she complained. “Much more.”
“It’ll give you enormous freedom of movement when you take on the horrendous horde.”
“How can you be sure there is a horrendous horde?” she said. “How do I know this wasn’t all just a ruse so you could see me like this?”
“It came to me as I lay in bed last night,” answered Einstein.
“A vision?”
“No, a ten-foot-high Aryan in a leather skirt,” said Einstein. “I was hoping for a woman,” he admitted. “Anyway, he suddenly appeared, said ‘So you’re what we have to destroy,' laughed his head off, and vanished.”
“All right,” said Eleanor heatedly. “It’s time we taught the so-called Master Race a lesson.”
“Fine. We’ll drive to the private airport down the road and be on our way. I’ll get the car.”
She made him turn out all the lights and back up to the door so no neighbors or passersby could see her, and ten minutes later they were pulling up to Leonardo Schwartz’s plane.
Einstein got out and opened the door for Eleanor. It took her a moment to work up her courage, but finally she stepped out of the car, enchanted sword in hand, and walked to the steps leading up to the plane.
“Who’s your friend?” asked Schwartz. “My God, she’s gorgeous!”
I didn’t realize it was that dark a night, thought Eleanor.
“She is, isn’t she?” agreed Einstein admiringly, holding out his hand to her. “Leo, say hello to Big El.”
Schwartz took her hand and kissed it, then climbed into the cockpit.
“What are you staring at?” Eleanor demanded as Einstein kept smiling at her.
“More than your sword is enchanted,” he said. “So is your outfit.”
“My outfit?” she repeated, frowning.
“It was made for a gorgeous warrior princess, so that’s what it’s turned you into.”
She looked down at herself, then smiled happily. “Thirty-five pounds, hell!” she exclaimed. “I’ve lost fifty if I’ve lost an ounce!”
She took the extra veil off her shoulder and handed it to him. “Here. I won’t need this anymore.”
Schwartz started the engines, while Einstein and Eleanor strapped themselves in.
“Thirteen of them, you say?” said Eleanor.
“That’s right.”
“Ten feet tall?”
“At least.”
“Foul-tempered?”
“Worse. And spoiling for a fight.”
The most beautiful warrior princess in America leaned back and smiled. “I can hardly wait,” she said.
Himmler cooled his heels in Hitler’s outer office for almost half an hour, and then was escorted inside.
“Ah, Reichsfuhrer!” said Hitler. “How good to see you again!”
“You just saw me three hours ago, mein Fuhrer.”
Hitler glared at him. “I do not like to be disagreed with,” he said softly. “Except by Eva. Mein Gott, does that woman have a temper! You’d think anyone who could use a rolling pin like that would know how to cook!” The Fuhrer shuddered, then sat down. “So tell me about these supermen of yours.”
“I told you this morning, mein Fuhrer,” said Himmler.
“Do you know how many cities I’ve ordered destroyed since then?” snapped Hitler. “How many men I’ve had terminated? How many cigarettes I’ve smoked—and Turkish ones at that! Humor a busy man and tell me again!”
“There are thirteen of them,” said Himmler. “Each stands more than ten feet tall, and each makes the vaunted Charles Atlas look like a ninety-eight-pound weakling.”
"Charles Atlas?” repeated the Fuhrer, clearly impressed. “Isn’t he the one who’s in all those ads on the backs of, well … certain illustrated magazines, shall we say?”
“Comic books. Yes, sir,” said Himmler. “Anyway, these thirteen perfect Aryan warriors are without peer.”
“From what I hear they are also without clothes,” said Hitler. “How can I send them to the Russian front?”
“I didn’t summon them from the depths of hell to fight the Russians, mein Fuhrer,” said Himmler. “They are here to ward off the attacks of the turncoat sorcerer Einstein.”
“Don’t mention that name to my face!” yelled Hitler.
“I apologize, mein Fuhrer,” said Himmler quickly.
Hitler swiveled his chair until he was facing out a window, with his back to Himmler. “Now you can talk about him, Reichsfuhrer.”
“Yes, sir. Word has reached us from our spies in the White House that Einstein is about to unleash Mrs. Roosevelt upon us … and you know the success the President has had unleashing her on his other enemies.”
“You were quite right to call them forth, Reichsfuhrer,” said Hitler. “Where will they meet her in battle?”
“We have no idea where she is at the moment,” answered Himmler. “So I have concluded that the best course of action is to booby-trap Gestapo headquarters and wait for her there, since sooner or later she and Einstein"—Hitler whimpered at the mention of the name—"will come to Berlin and seek my Aryan supermen out.”
“Maybe you should leave ten or twelve of them right here to protect me,” suggested Hitler.
“They don’t want you, sir.”
“I beg your pardon!” screamed Hitler, spinning around in his chair to face Himmler.
“It’s personal, sir,” said Himmler.
“Explain!”
“I found an error in his Special Theory of Relativity and presented it in a speech to the Sorcerers’ Society, right after their annual softball game.”
“The greatest sorcerers in the world play softball?” asked Hitler, surprised.
“Well, usually the ball turns into a screeching Canadian goose on its way to the plate, and the bases grow legs and run off to Bismark, North Dakota, and—”
“I get the picture,” interrupted the Fuhrer. “Continue.”
“Anyway, I proved that D does not equal MC squared, and he has never forgiven me for that,” said Himmler. “He and Mrs. Roosevelt are after me, sir, and they know they’ll have to fight their way through my supermen to reach me.”
“Have these superman all been trained in the use of the latest modern weapons?”
“They don’t need
them,” answered Himmler. “They are masters of fisticuffs, wrestling, karate, kung fu, penjak, and the off-putting snide remark. Furthermore, they assure me they are invulnerable, that no bullet can pierce their proud Aryan skin.”
“You don’t say,” said Hitler.
“I just did say, mein Fuhrer.”
“Maybe we should put it to the test. I haven’t shot anyone since breakfast.”
“I thought I saw them carrying the bullet-riddled body of the Postmaster General out of here while I was waiting to see you, sir,” said Himmler.
“He was only five feet three inches tall,” said Hitler with a shrug. “He hardly counts.”
“All right, mein Fuhrer,” said Himmler, clicking his heels together and snapping off a salute. “I’ll bring them all to your office.”
“Just a minute,” said Hitler.
“Sir?”
“What are their names, so I will know how to address them?”
“There are twelve Heinrichs and an Adolf, sir.”
“But no Einsteins?”
“No, sir.”
“All right,” said Hitler, opening his drawer and pulling out a tommygun. “Leave the Adolf behind. I certainly wouldn’t want to hurt him.”
“They are all invulnerable,” Himmler assured him.
“We shall see.”
“I’ll have them here in ten minutes, mein Fuhrer.”
“You’re sure there are no Einsteins?”
“I’m sure.”
“All right. Let’s see if anything can pierce their proud Aryan skins.”
And seven hundred and twenty-two bullets later he still didn’t know what could pierce their skins, but he was damned sure he knew what couldn’t.
The plane landed at a small airport about forty miles outside of London.
“This is as far as I go,” announced Leonardo. “The Germans control everything between here and Berlin.”
“Are you going to let a little thing like a few thousand anti-aircraft guns and fighter planes stop you when this scantily clad damsel is willing to face them armed with only a sword?” demanded Einstein.
“What the hell,” said Leonardo. “When you put it that way….”
“Good!” said Einstein. “Refuel the plane and we’ll be on our way. Big El and I will grab some dinner while you’re standing out here in the pouring rain keeping a watchful eye on things.”