India was sweating profusely. The air was thick and they knew there wasn’t much oxygen left.
‘How much further?’ she asked.
‘We’re not sure,’ said Meister over his shoulder.
‘You have the coordinates, don’t you?’ said Brandon. He stood up and walked forward to join them up front. This time there was no interference from Eichman.
‘We do,’ said Meister, ‘but according to those, we should be there by now.’
‘How do you know we aren’t?’ asked Brandon.
Meister pointed upward to another Plexiglas window above them. Brandon looked up and could see the roof of the ice tunnel just above the mini sub. His breathing was heavy now and the realisation that they might suffocate closed in on him. He looked back along the sub. Eichman had his eyes closed and was obviously struggling. India also had her eyes closed and was breathing deep and slow to maximise the effect of any oxygen still in the air.
‘Do you have any scuba gear on board?’ asked Brandon suddenly.
‘We do,’ said the pilot, ‘for hull inspections when we are surfaced. But even if you could get out, which you can’t, I fail to see what benefit we would gain.’
‘I have no intention of going out there,’ said Brandon. ‘Tell me where the equipment is. Quickly.’
‘Behind that panel,’ coughed the pilot as he struggled to breathe.
Brandon fumbled at the catch and when the panel fell open he reached inside, trying to find something he knew would be there. Frantically he pulled the wetsuits out of his way and finally, just as the pain in his lungs became unbearable, he found what he was looking for. With the last of his strength, he pulled out the air tanks, but even as the prospect of help lay within his grasp, he knew it was too late, and as he blacked out, the precious bottle of diver’s air fell to the floor and rolled across the cabin.
‘Brandon,’ came the voice, ‘Brandon, wake up.’
Slowly his eyes opened and as the mist cleared from his view, he could see India crouched above him.
‘It’s OK,’ she said, ‘take your time.’
‘India?’ he said weakly. ‘Did we make it?’
‘Well, if we didn’t,’ said India, ‘I’m not that impressed with heaven.’
Brandon struggled to sit up and realised he could breathe easily. Up above the hatch was open and the cold air flooded the mini submarine.
‘What happened?’ asked Brandon. ‘The last thing I remember was pulling out the bottle but after that, nothing.’
‘When you collapsed,’ said India, ‘I had just enough strength left to reach the air bottle and turn on the valve. According to the pilot it wasn’t much, but it was enough to keep us all alive and get us to the cavern.’
‘And are we there?’ asked Brandon.
‘Apparently so,’ said India. ‘Meister and Eichman are up on the deck and keeping an eye on where we are going. It’s pitch dark up there so we are sailing slowly across a lake. I haven’t seen it yet but they are saying it looks huge.’
‘Well I don’t see why they should have all the fun,’ said Brandon, struggling to his feet. ‘Let’s take a look.’
They made their way to the ladder leading up through the conning tower and joined Meister up on deck. All around, the space was totally dark apart from a circle of light that emanated from the lantern held by the Eichman.
‘Mr Walker,’ said Meister, ‘you are OK, I see.’
‘I am,’ said Brandon, ‘apart from a massive headache.’
‘Me too,’ said Meister, ‘but it will pass. It seems we owe both you and Miss Summers here a debt of gratitude.’
‘Just happy to be alive,’ said India. ‘So, what is this place?’
‘We are about to find out,’ said Meister as he unwrapped something in his hand. He held it upward and, tugging hard on the igniter strip, shot a parachute flare high into the pitch-black space above.
A few seconds later, the flare ignited fully and illuminated the cavern. For a few moments they all stared in disbelief at the sight before them. Brandon turned slowly, taking in the scene, lost for words. The cavern was bigger than he had imagined and the walls came down to meet the water over 200 yards away on either side, though it wasn’t the scale of the place which shocked him but the dozens of silent U-boats moored across the entire lake.
‘Oh my God,’ said India, ‘what is this place?’
‘It looks like a graveyard for U-boats,’ said Brandon.
‘On the contrary,’ said Meister, ‘it was once a thriving dockyard built as a base from which our fleet could dominate the South Atlantic. This was Germany’s big secret, Mr Walker. Welcome to Station 211.’
India and Brandon walked around the cavern, keeping to the ledge that had been carved out of the rocky walls to serve as a dock. They passed submarine after submarine, each looming out of the darkness as Brandon’s powerful torch lit them up in the darkness. The dock showed signs of intense activity from many years earlier, with empty crates and discarded trollies littering every available space.
The Hansel had landed ten minutes earlier and while India and Brandon had wandered off to explore, Eichman and the pilot unloaded the submarine.
‘This is amazing,’ said India, shining her torch across the water.
‘Can you imagine how this will be received by the governments of the world? The place would be swarming with historians and camera crews within days.’
‘Do you think so?’ asked Brandon. ‘Because I don’t.’
‘Why not?’
‘Who are you going to tell?’ asked Brandon. ‘The governments probably already know, while the papers would probably print your story alongside the “aliens kidnapped my baby” stories.’
‘Really?’ said India. ‘Then we’ll just have to get them some proof, won’t we.’
She pulled out her phone and aimed it across the lake to take a picture.
‘India,’ hissed Brandon, ‘stop.’
‘What’s the matter?’
‘When that flash goes off, Meister will realise you have a phone and take it from you. We can’t allow that to happen. It may come in useful later on.’
‘There’s not much battery left,’ said India.
‘All the more reason to conserve the power.’
Across the water they heard a generator kick into life and two powerful searchlights threw their blinding beams upward to bounce off the ceiling and illuminate the cavern.
‘Bloody hell,’ said Brandon, ‘there must be thirty or more submarines in here, every one abandoned.’
‘Where do you think the crews are?’
‘I have no idea,’ said Brandon, ‘but they obviously never went back through the tunnel, so I guess there must be another way out, which is good news for us.’ They turned around and walked back toward Meister and his men. The pilot had his head beneath one of the panels on the deck of the Hansel while Meister and Eichman were sorting out their rucksacks.
‘Fascinating, isn’t it?’ said Meister as they approached.
‘It is,’ said Brandon, ‘but I don’t understand what went on down here.’
‘It’s quite simple,’ said Meister. ‘Toward the end of the war, more and more U-boats were used to transport stores here. As defeat loomed, there soon became nowhere for them to go. Of course they could have surrendered to the allies, but once they had been here, the powers that be were reluctant for them to go in case they betrayed the location of this place to their interrogators. Consequently, I would imagine that any turning up just before or just after the war ended were forced to remain here, whether they wanted to or not.’
‘But why?’ asked Brandon. ‘OK, so a few U-boat crews would avoid capture, but for what reason? What sort of life would they have living in a series of underground caves and tunnels?’
‘Oh, Station 211 is far more than that,’ said Meister, ‘as you will soon find out. But for now, let’s just say that the U-boat crews were just the last of many who came this way. Look around you. This dock is not a natural feature but has been hewn out of the solid rock by human hands.’
‘But that would have taken years,’ said India.
‘Not necessarily,’ said Meister. ‘It depends on how much manpower they had available.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Well let’s just say that forced labour wasn’t an issue,’ said Meister.
‘Surely you don’t mean they brought prisoners of war all the way down here?’
‘Why not?’ said Brandon. ‘Inmates from labour camps were transported all over the place and they certainly wouldn’t have used their own military.’
‘But that’s awful,’ said India, ‘the working conditions must have been terrible.’
‘Compared to what they were doing across the rest of Europe at the time, about par for the course I would say,’ said Brandon.
‘What does it matter?’ asked Meister. ‘That was half a century ago. The thing is, we are here now. It seems that the battery packs are unsalvageable so we have no option but to press on. Somewhere further inland we should find the answers we seek.’
‘How do we know where to go?’ asked India.
‘That’s easy,’ said Meister, ‘we simply follow these.’ He pointed down to the floor and India could see a pair of railway tracks sunk into the rock.
‘They had a railway?’ asked Brandon in surprise.
‘I think we are going to find they had a lot more than that, Mr Walker,’ said Meister, ‘so the sooner we start, the quicker all this will make sense.’
They picked up their rucksacks and without another word, followed the rail tracks into a tunnel. As they passed the generator, Eichman leaned down and turned it off, plunging the cavern into darkness once more.
For the next few hours they followed the train tracks deeper and deeper into the mountain, though always at an upward angle. Occasional side tunnels split from the main route and they explored the first few, finding large rooms containing the obvious remnants of long gone occupation. One such room had a locked wooden door but though the key was still in in place, the lock was rusted solid.
Eichman joined Brandon and together they forced the door inward to slam back against the inner wall. Inside, four rows of rusting bed frames complete with rotting mattresses disappeared into the distance, far beyond the reach of their powerful torch beams.
‘Barracks?’ suggested India, shining her torch into the distance.
‘No,’ said Brandon, shining his torch on to the inner face of the hanging door, ‘I think this was some sort of dormitory where the workforce was forced to sleep.’
‘Why do you think that?’
‘This door has a keyhole on the outside only,’ said Brandon, ‘and that only happens when you want to lock someone or something in. Besides, this room is too sparse. Make soldiers stay in these conditions and you would have a revolt on your hands pretty soon.’
The smell of the rotting mattresses was overpowering and they struggled to breathe in the dense atmosphere.
‘Let’s get out of here,’ said India, ‘it’s too claustrophobic.’
They explored a few more rooms and found offices, kitchens and latrines, all carved out of the surrounding rock. Brandon was fascinated by the fact that though they obviously didn’t work, everywhere they went they could see basic electric fittings and cables fixed high on the ceiling of the tunnel. Finally, after forcing their way into another locked room, they found something that dampened their enthusiasm for exploration.
Inside there was a similar set-up to the room they had found earlier, but though the beds were more or less the same, the main difference was that most of these held the skeletal remains of human occupants, most still draped with the pathetic remnants of the basic clothing they had worn over half a century earlier. More bodies lay on the floor and some beds had more than one occupant as some had decided to die alongside a friend or a loved one.
‘Oh my God,’ India whispered, ‘what happened here?’
‘I’m not sure,’ said Brandon, ‘but I would guess that whenever it was that these tunnels were evacuated, these people were deemed unnecessary and were left to die.’
‘That’s awful,’ said India. ‘These, poor, poor people.’
Something caught Brandon’s eye and he walked to a nearby bunk to get a better look. What he saw caught his breath and he immediately returned to India.
‘Come on,’ he said, ‘let’s get out of here.’
‘What’s the matter?’ asked India. ‘What did you see?’
‘Nothing,’ said Brandon, ‘just another dead body. This whole thing is sickening.’
Back out in the tunnel Meister was waiting.
‘We need to make better time,’ he said. ‘All these things are very interesting, but hold us back from the greater prize.’
‘I wouldn’t call them interesting,’ snarled Brandon, ‘I would call them barbaric.’
‘Perhaps so,’ said Meister, ‘but don’t make the mistake of blaming me for the sins of another generation. Now come, we should go.’
Ignoring any more side routes, they agreed to stick to the main corridor as long as it remained easy to follow. The longer they walked, the more concerned they became and soon they were using only two of the torches in an effort to conserve the batteries. Finally they came to another cavern and they could see that this was some sort of hub.
‘We’ll rest here,’ said Meister, and they all sat back against one of the walls to catch their breath and grab something to eat.
India delved into her rucksack to find the food they had brought from the ship.
‘How far do you think these tunnels go?’ she asked when she had washed down the chunky chocolate bar with a few gulps of water.
‘Who knows?’ said Brandon. ‘This place seems like a warren. I’ve lost count of the side tunnels we’ve passed. It must have taken tens of thousands of workers to dig these out, but what I don’t understand is why they would just dig into the unknown. I understand why they constructed the side rooms, but surely at the time they had no idea where this main one would end up.’
‘I think I can shed some light on that,’ said India. ‘Most of them seem to be lava tubes. They are made during a volcanic eruption, when the outer edge of a lava flow cools quicker than the lava beneath and forms a crust while the centre remains liquid. Eventually the lava tube empties but the crust remains, forming an empty shell. Fresh lava is deposited on top that eventually raises the surface level. I reckon these were formed millions of years ago when Antarctica was forming. Somehow, those German explorers must have found their way in and found this enormous network of interconnected tubes spreading beneath the entire mountain. After that, all it would have needed is a workforce to enlarge them or clear them out where needed and they would have had a ready-made complex possibly hundreds of miles long.’
‘It makes sense,’ said Brandon. He looked around the cavern again, shining his torch across the vast space.
‘What’s that?’ he asked suddenly, standing up.
‘What?’ asked India.
‘It looks like a window,’ said Brandon. ‘Come on, let’s take a closer look.’
They stood up and walked across the room.
‘Where are you going?’ shouted Meister.
‘Exploring?’ answered Brandon, and carried on into the darkness.
Within minutes they approached the far wall. Brandon stopped and pointed the torch upward.
‘There,’ he said, and India could see the torch beam reflect off a smooth polished surface.
‘There must be another room behind it,’ said India.
They walked through the doorway and climbed up the steps before entering the room. This one was much smaller than the rest and as Brandon shone his torch around the walls, they could see it was filled with technical equipment, albeit from a different era. The window they had seen from below lay before them and despite the layer of dust, they could see the light of Meister’s lamp on the other side of the cavern.
‘It looks like some kind of control room,’ said Brandon as he walked around the switch-filled benches.
‘To control what?’ asked India.
‘I don’t know,’ said Brandon. ‘Perhaps just the movement of people and cargo.’
‘Brandon, look,’ said India and pointed her torch at the far wall. Brandon looked over and saw a row of electrical isolation boxes side by side. Each had an armoured cable feeding them and smaller insulated cables leading out of the bottom before disappearing through holes in the floor. Every one had a solid lever on the right-hand side and each was in the off position.
‘What do you think,’ she asked. ‘Is it worth trying them?’
‘I can’t see how it would help,’ said Brandon. ‘Whatever power source they used all that time ago would be long dead by now.’
‘Then it won’t matter,’ said India and walked over to the isolators. Each was labelled in German and she struggled with the translation before settling on one toward the end.
‘This one looks promising,’ she said. ‘Main power.’ She pulled the lever down with a loud clang and for a second nothing happened, but just as Brandon was about to say something, a sole light bulb above his head flickered into life. Both stared up in disbelief before India broke the silence.
‘We have electricity,’ she said.
‘That’s impossible,’ said Brandon. ‘What power source could last all these years?’
‘I don’t know,’ said India, ‘and at this moment in time, I don’t care.’ She turned her attention back to the isolators and started to pull further levers. Outside the window, Brandon could see banks of lights flicking into life and within moments, the cavern was filled with light. Across the floor he could see Meister and his men getting to their feet as they looked around in amazement.
Brandon and India walked to the window and gazed over the sight now fully revealed before them. Down on the cavern floor, they could see a large central turntable approximately twenty metres across containing a single piece of rail track crossing the entire diameter. The turntable was designed to allow trains to manoeuvre in the confined space and either be redirected to one of the many loading areas around the cavern or into one of the eight tunnels that were spaced equally around the cavern walls.
‘This is fantastic,’ murmured India.
‘It’s like something out of a James Bond film,’ said Brandon.
‘They must have had quite a lot of trains to need a hub like this,’ said India.
‘I doubt it,’ said Brandon. ‘Trains from that time used diesel and gave off huge amounts of fumes. Besides, those tunnels aren’t big enough for normal trains, they must have used something else.’
‘Look over there,’ said India, ‘it seems they left one behind.’
Brandon followed her gaze and saw some sort of vehicle sat on the rails next to a loading ramp. It had eight wheels, a small cabin and an open trailer behind.
‘It looks promising,’ said Brandon, ‘but I can’t see any sort of engine.’
‘Then let’s take a closer look,’ said India, and they descended the stairs to cross the chamber once again.
‘Mr Walker,’ said Meister, walking toward him, ‘I see you have been very productive. At least we won’t have to conserve our torches any longer.’
‘I might be able to do better than that,’ said Brandon. ‘Take a look over here.’
The entire group followed India to where the vehicle sat against a loading dock. For a few moments they stared in confusion.
‘Strange,’ said Brandon, ‘there doesn’t seem to be a means of propulsion.’ He walked around the vehicle and paused momentarily when he saw a cover on the side of the cabin, similar to a fuel cap on a modern car. Inside, there was a round socket containing two round holes.
‘It looks like an electrical socket,’ he said. ‘Perhaps it needs to be charged with electricity.’
India walked over to pick up a cable plugged into the nearby wall.
‘Does this help?’ she asked, and brought the end over to see if it would fit in the socket.
‘Perfect,’ said Brandon, inserting the plug. He looked over to where the cable was plugged into a wall and noticed an isolation box with a lever in the off position.
‘Switch it on,’ he said, and India pulled down the lever.
Brandon checked the cab but the dashboard remained dead.
‘Turn it off,’ said Brandon, and India cut the power.
‘What’s the matter?’ asked Meister.
‘Nothing,’ said Brandon, ‘but if I’m right, this machine runs on a bed of batteries, similar to the sub. If we can harvest a few we can take them back down to the dock and see if we can bastardise them to fix the engines. The only problem is, after all this time the batteries are probably dry and will need filling up with distilled water, and if we had left the power on too long the batteries would have exploded.’
‘And where can we find this water?’ asked Meister.
‘There’s bound to be some somewhere,’ said Brandon. ‘They seem to have thought of everything, so spare distilled water is a must. I’ll access the batteries while you lot spread out and see what you can find.’
When they had gone Brandon undid a series of clips along the bottom of the cab and hinged it upward to reveal rows of black batteries in the vehicle body.
‘Bingo,’ he said, and started to remove the caps. A few minutes later, Meister and his men returned pushing a wooden cart carrying four metal drums.
‘Is this what we need?’ he asked.
‘Is it distilled?’
‘It says pure water on the label.’
‘Then that’s the stuff,’ answered Brandon. ‘Bring it over.’
They spent the next half an hour topping up the batteries before replacing the caps and securing the body back down to the chassis. Brandon plugged in the charger cable once more.
‘Right,’ he said, ‘let’s try it, turn it on.’
Once more India pulled the switch and this time the vehicle hummed as power poured into the batteries. Brandon climbed into the cab and saw a range of tiny lights come to life as they drew on stored power for the first time in years. A dial to one side had a needle indicating just above zero and Brandon guessed this was a stored power indicator.
‘Is it working?’ asked Meister.
‘I think so,’ said Brandon, ‘though I have no idea how long it will take. By the look of this I would estimate twelve hours or more.’
‘Then I suggest we should take the opportunity to get some proper rest,’ said Meister. ‘It has been a long day. I suggest we each take it in turn to keep an eye on the dials while the others get some sleep.’
‘How can anyone sleep at a time like this?’ said India. ‘There’s far too much interesting stuff going on.’
‘Do you realise we have been awake for the last twenty-eight hours?’ said Brandon. ‘Meister’s right, we need some proper rest. Come on, we’ll find a quiet corner and get some shut-eye.’ They walked away from the vehicle and found a side room that once was an office. Brandon broke the legs off the two desks and laid the desktops on the floor.
‘Put your sleeping bag on these,’ he said, ‘or the rock floor will drain your body heat.’ India retrieved her sleeping bag from her rucksack and after removing her shoes and coat, climbed inside.
‘I don’t know why I’m even trying,’ she said as she made a makeshift pillow from her coat, ‘there’s no way I’m going to get any sleep with all this around me. There’s too much to explore.’
‘At least try,’ said Brandon, reaching for his own sleeping bag inside his rucksack. ‘We don’t know what the next day or so may bring, but we could need all our strength. These past few hours we have been operating on pure adrenaline.’
When there was no answer, he looked over to India but saw she was already fast asleep. He smiled to himself and lay down alongside her in his own sleeping bag.
‘Sleep well,’ he said quietly, and closed his eyes.
India struggled into consciousness as Brandon repeatedly called her name. Finally she opened her eyes and he gave her a second or two to come around.
‘What’s the matter?’ she asked. ‘I was just falling asleep.’
‘You’ve been asleep for over eight hours,’ said Brandon.
‘Eight hours, are you sure?’
‘Absolutely,’ said Brandon, ‘and I would have let you sleep for more, but we have a problem.’
‘What’s the matter?’ she asked.
‘They’ve gone, India,’ he said. ‘While we were sleeping they must have loaded the train and left without us. We’re on our own.’