by Ken Asamatsu
“Do what now?” Berger asked.
“You heard him! Herr Saga is a true adept, a wielder of magic recognized by the Führer and Reichsführer Himmler themselves!”
“If you say so.”
Berger could only do as the mysterious man ordered. It was the only way to get through this bizarre ordeal, he felt.
And it’s not like I have any idea what the horrible thing is, only that it’s still after us.
The black humanoid shadow, some thirty to fifty meters tall, pursued the Junkers steadily, although it was always changing postures. Sometimes it appeared to be standing and walking, at others to swim horizontally through the air.
The wooden box resting on Herr Saga’s lap began to give off some kind of pulsing vibration.
Timing his movements to those pulses, Saga raised his left hand and extended its index finger.
“Zeno’ohta, mabuak, nigorthas!” He began chanting an eerie incantation.
“Na zazas zazas,40 Cthugha!”41 He drew the sign of a five-pointed star in the air in a single line, starting from the top.
“Cthugha!” Inge and Berger followed along with Herr Saga, saying the nonsensical words with great force.
What name are we calling? Who is coming to aid us? A god, a demon? Or something worse, something more terrible?! Berger felt as much, even as he chanted.
The next moment, the window was filled with a brilliant crimson flash. And not just the one next to Berger: all the windows on the plane, those behind Herr Saga and Inge, as well as the ones further forward, all of them blazed crimson.
It’s as if the whole of the night sky has caught fire! Berger thought. He made no attempt to see what was occurring outside. It may have sounded like base superstition, but he was reminded of the story of Lot’s wife, turned to a pillar of salt for daring to look back at the ruins of Sodom and Gomorrah.
Berger and Inge soon reached the back of the U-boat.
The sailors gave them looks of curiosity and malice both as they rushed through the masses of valves, pipes, gauges, and handles filling the corridors.
Inge only stopped when they stood before a black curtain stretched across the stern. It marked the entrance to the special room built in an empty space at the ship’s stern.
The curtain bore a swastika embroidered in silver thread. From behind it, the scent of pungent incense stung their noses.
That disturbing shape in the sky disappeared after Saga’s ritual on board the Junkers. The old deathtrap flew on, refueling time after time, until we finally reached Kiel on April 5th. We took the troop transport on to Spain, and landed at La Coruña. That’s where we boarded U1313.
The space beyond the curtain was filled with pulsing vibrations, now high-pitched, now low. Berger belatedly realized he could see a red pulsing light timed to those vibrations shining in the space below the curtain.
I have to be more careful! I’m an intelligence operative, I can’t let myself get distracted. This month and a half has been filled with such strangeness, my nerves are stretched to their limits.
He gave his head a light shake, and gathered himself together.
The vibrations and light stopped at the same time, almost as if his preparations had been noticed.
“Come in, Inge and Lt. Berger. The captain is already here,” Herr Saga’s voice came bursting from the hidden room. It sounded oddly youthful and full of strength, a far cry from how the man had spoken before.
The secrecy around this Herr Saga is deeper and darker even than that shadow giant that pursued us from Vienna, thought Lt. Berger, and surreptitiously swallowed the bile he suddenly found filling his mouth.
IV The Flame Magus’s Feast
Berger raised a hand, and the curtain opened in the middle on its own.
Inge had not touched it, and neither had Herr Saga, sitting on his bunk and waiting, nor the captain there near him.
The curtain just... opened... .
Berger walked into the special room, a frown on his face, and behind him the curtain again closed of its own accord.
The entire space beyond the curtains was filled with the blue smoke of incense. It covered the walls and the floor, and writhed around the pipes and valves, the countless gauges, handles, and metal plates of the U-boat’s interior.
For some reason this gave a mysterious sense of space to the special room, which normally felt crowded with even just two people inside. Even the ceiling felt higher. And instead of the regular gloomy ship light, there was a warm glow like that of a blazing chandelier.
“Ugh... .” The smell of incense was dizzying, and Berger let out a small moan. At the same time, the space inside the special room appeared to waver and twist.... No, not appeared, felt... .
“Welcome to my magical circle. In the spirit of friendship, may I call you Erich?” said the man sitting in the oak chair in an oddly low voice. He had removed his usual black suit and replaced it with the uniform of the Sicherheitsdienst, adorned at the chest with an Iron Cross medal. He wore a gray military cap with the Death’s Head insignia low over his eyes, and it kept the features of his narrow face hidden in shadow. It was as if he still wore the satin mask.
What is going on here? Berger opened his eyes wide. He was right to be shocked. For the man in the SD uniform now sat with his hands folded over a massive round table covered with a red velvet cloth.
Captain Roggenhagen sat to the right of the table, his face pale.
“This is madness.... There’s no room like this on the U-boat. And where did this table, and the velvet come from—”
“You say it’s impossible, Erich? Well, what would you say to fine Austrian cognac and Turkish cigars?” Herr Saga said, putting Berger in mind of the wolf in sheep’s clothing, for some reason.
“But first, do sit down. Cognac and cigars are meant to be enjoyed at leisure.”
Berger reached out to take the nearest chair. It was made of mahogany covered in boar hide and was wrought in exquisite detail.
It feels right, it slides right, it has the right weight.... It seems I can’t break the illusion.
Berger settled himself into the chair, thinking all the while. Inge sat to his right. Herr Saga was sitting across from him, and even seen from straight ahead the mysterious man’s face was impossible to make out.
“Thank you. Help yourself to cognac.”
“Which is where?” Lt. Berger frowned.
“Look at the table, Erich. There are glasses as well.”
“Wh—?!”
When he looked down at the table, Berger did indeed find brandy glasses filled with cognac, each engraved with the name of someone present. And there, just within reach, was a wooden box carved in a Chinese style and filled with fine cigars.
“Is this more of your magic, then?” The leutnant reached to pick up a cigar, struggling to keep his composure. Inge held out a lighter.
“Indeed. But surely you don’t still need to check my power? We’ve been together since we left Vienna on April 3rd. You’ve seen more examples of my power than you can count, haven’t you?”
“I wish I could be so certain.” Lt. Berger lit the cigar in his mouth. “I certainly do remember you performing all kinds of rituals like those you did earlier to escape the reach of that cyclopean beast. I also remember helping you.”
A metallic ping pierced Berger’s ears and he grimaced in reflex. He turned toward the source of the sound, and found not Herr Saga but Inge. She was holding her lighter to her own cigarette.
“We’ll soon reach Argentina,” Herr Saga said, laughing. “Much faster than expected!”
At this, Berger glanced over at Captain Roggenhagen. The captain’s head was lolling loosely, looking like a boulder balanced on the edge of a cliff, ready to fall at any moment. He’d gone from pale to ashen.
Herr Saga’s done something to the captain, just like
he did to the Estrelita. He’ll sacrifice anything for his goals, friends and enemies alike. He’ll use anyone or anything, he’ll do anything... .
“I ordered him to use all his fuel, to keep going faster. And Roggenhagen refused! So, I simply absorbed some of his life force, to make him more compliant,” said Herr Saga, and reached down toward his feet. He picked up a small wooden box and set it on the table. It was the trunk that had been on his lap all the way from Vienna, to Kiel, to La Coruña, and over the Pacific Ocean.
“It has been over six weeks now. It all seems so long ago. We left La Coruña on, let’s see, April 5th or 6th? And we’ve avoided the eyes of the Americans and English this whole time. We passed South Africa, stopped in French Congo, refueled in Uruguay, and finally we have arrived here. It truly has been a long road.”
“And along the way we have been pursued by a monster and the Third Reich has surrendered unconditionally. It certainly wasn’t boring!” said Berger with sarcasm, but no real force.
“Monster? Surrender?” Herr Saga threw the words back at Berger and opened the lock on the box. “The sea beast is no match for me, an adept of Flame. And as for surrender, well, the moment I set foot on the soil of Argentina, we will raise the curtain on the Fourth Reich in South America, with the power of the Flame of the Philistines!” said Herr Saga, his voice almost hysterical. He opened the lid of the box with both hands. A brilliant light spilled from the open lid, its rays bathing the room. Brilliant crimson rays....
It was light he had seen over and over, moving in time with those pulsing vibrations. The same color as the light beaming from the eye of that cyclops that had been pursuing the U-boat. The flickering crimson light awakened something in Berger’s memory.
Right! The monster first showed up around May 1st, when we were about a month out of La Coruña. That was three or four days before Admiral Dönitz gave the order for all U-boat crews to cease hostilities immediately.
V The Flame of the Philistines
When Berger, Inge, and Herr Saga rendezvoused with U1313 at the port of La Coruña, Berger opened the second envelope in the presence of Captain Roggenhagen.
The document Lt. Berger found there was not another order signed by the Führer, as he’d expected.
It was a single letter from Heinrich Himmler, Reichsführer of the SS, and with it a fragment of an old document.
To Whom it May Concern,
It appears almost certain that you will be aboard the first transport headed for Mar del Plata, Argentina. Presumably, within the next three months, the Führer, his wife Eva Braun, the Goebbels family, and other party officials and high-ranking military officers will depart for Argentina as well. I myself intend to go once I have cleared up a few work matters.
Captain Roggenhagen has assumed responsibility for escorting the three of you to Mar del Plata. I hope that you will await us there in that new land. The Führer has the utmost faith in Herr Saga’s power, as do I. However, I include a certain passage from the Book that concerns me. I include it here.
Heinrich Himmler, Reichsführer of the SS
The aging fragment of “the Book” read:
One must always be cautious when dealing with any Magus who has returned from death, for although the shell may appear unchanged, the spirit in many cases has come under the control of an Evil Intelligence. Von Junzt calls these “beasts.” Beasts are the enemies of not only other magi, but of humanity in general, and in the very worst case may involve humanity in a war with things not of this world.
Berger studied the name printed at the top of the fragment, presumably that of the author.
“Mathers?” he said aloud, and when he did so the envelope, the letter, and the fragment all burst into flames at once.
They burned away to ash in an instant.
“He has read his orders, captain. Let us set sail in U1313 with all haste,” said Herr Saga. He seemed anxious, as if he wished to throw off pursuit, and he clutched the wooden trunk tightly.
They left port without any trouble, and began their journey along the sea floor without hindrance.
The atmosphere on board began to change around April 28th, when they stopped to provision at Villa Cisneros in Western Sahara.
Mussolini and his mistress had been captured at Lake Como by partisans, and their bodies were just then being hung upside down and placed on display for the public.
While they were in port at this city, just on the Tropic of Cancer, the sea grew rough and the waves became whitecaps. It was around 8:30 in the evening.
At that same time, the fishermen in the port suddenly began to riot, and the friendliness they had shown quickly turned to animosity. They even began trying to attack the U-boat itself.
U1313 escaped Villa Cisneros practically under gunfire.
Then, on April 30th, in the seas near Saint Helena, those aboard U1313 learned of Italy’s unconditional surrender and Hitler’s suicide, and that Admiral Dönitz had been named new Führer—.
None of the crew on board U1313, not Lt. Berger, not Captain Roggenhagen, could hold back their quiet tears at the news. However, what of Herr Saga?
Oh, yes. The man he was duty-bound to risk his life escorting cackled like some mad wizard.
“Dönitz! Hah. That fool’s head is full of battleships, and now he’s given the responsibility of being Führer? You all mark my words. Soon you will come to realize that the basis for sorting mankind into the classes of Übermensch and Untermensch is as much based on personal essence as it is on race. Oh yes. Adolf Hitler had that essence, but Karl Dönitz has not a trace. Any fool can see it!”
And then, as if Herr Saga’s cackling had summoned it, the thing appeared with the setting sun on May 1st.
Lt Berger thought at first that it was some form of mass hysteria, a hallucination caused by the shock of losing the war. For how else could you explain the entire crew seeing a great sea beast, a cyclops forty meters tall, walking along the bottom of the sea off the islands of St. Helena?
But the monster, its lone left eye gleaming a baleful crimson, continued to pursue U1313 day and night.
From the French Congo, out into the Pacific....
On the surface, and on the seabed....
Until they were just within reach of safety....
The U-boat received transmissions of Berlin’s fall on May 2nd, and Dönitz’s orders for all U-boats to cease hostilities on May 6th, and the beast pursued.
Lt. Berger still sometimes felt their stalker must be some kind of illusion, or perhaps a new weapon devised by the Allies—and not without reason; for the great beast with its one crimson eye always vanished whenever U1313 came near other ships. At other times that hateful gleam would disappear when Herr Saga led them in making the sign of the pentagram and chanting some uncanny spell.
Of course. Now that I think on it, the freak always had that trunk in his hands, and it would be emitting that pulsing throb of sound. Berger tried to recall what Saga had said was in the trunk. The Flame of the Philistines?
And now, the lid of that trunk with its enigmatic burden was being opened by its even more enigmatic bearer.
VI The Sea and the Flame
“Stop! What further madness do you intend to bring us?!” Berger cried out without thinking, springing up from his chair. The force of it toppled his glass. He dropped his cigar. And in a flash the glass, the cigar, the mahogany chair, everything dissolved into the smoke.
That awful crimson light spilling from the trunk! Lt Berger stared around at the special room in shock. The incense smoke roiled and wavered everywhere, and so the floor, the ceiling, and the walls wavered with it.
Or are they being shaken?
Sensing unspeakable danger around him, Berger reached out a hand to take Inge’s arm and pulled her up by main force.
“What are you doing?! Be silent and listen to Herr Saga—”
&
nbsp; Berger cut her off. “Look at the light from that trunk! That glow, that color.... Does it not look familiar?!” He pulled the woman forward and shouted.
“What?!”
“Fool! You still can’t see it, after all this?!” he cried out and slapped Inge with a force that sent her cigarette flying toward the captain.
The burning cigarette landed on the captain’s hand, still folded atop the table. There was no sign on Captain Roggenhagen’s ashen face that he noticed the pain at all.
It was plain to see that the captain was already dead.
Yet Berger could spare the man no thought. He spoke now to Inge as she stared at Herr Saga.
“Earlier I looked right into the eye of that cyclopean beast through the periscope. It glowed red. Even 250 meters under the green sea, it sent out a pure crimson light. It was no reflection of the U-boat’s searchlights.... It was a painful, clear red, like the firebombs the Americans’ B-17s dropped. I saw the bombing of Dresden in February, and the fires burned with that same hideous crimson light. Blazing. Blinding. That is the light burning in the cyclops’s lone eye.”
“But what is that to us now?!” asked Inge, gasping. But behind the fear and confusion in her eyes, Berger could see that she already knew what he was trying to say. She was simply too afraid to allow herself to accept it.
“I met its gaze through that periscope. I saw it myself! The horrible beast, wrapped in massive silver scales, its hands and feet webbed. I saw its fins, and the gaping gills beneath its face.... And its lipless mouth, jagged as a crack in the earth... and inside it the rows of serrated fangs.... It had nostrils like two caves... .” Berger had to stop speaking for a moment. “But listen.... The eye, that terrible, round glass ball.... The dome of it, a full meter and a half across... It should have had two! There was a place for two. But there was only one, one eye filled with crimson, hateful light. The left one. On the right was only a darkened gaping socket, as if the eye had been plucked out... .”
“You mean, that trunk holds—”
“Yes. The madman calls it the Flame of the Philistines, but that’s the affectation of a fool. What Herr Saga holds, the key to all his power, is the beast’s right eye!”