‘First of all,’ said Monty, ‘the very fact you are here at all suggests to me that you know the basic history of this place.’
‘Refresh our memories,’ said Brandon.
‘Well, during the thirties the Germans sent many expeditions to Antarctica. Some were under the guise of establishing fishing grounds, others examining the possibility of mining for resources but there were just as many looking for the possibility of establishing a U-boat base to meet the needs of their fleet in the southern hemisphere. Their progress overland is well documented and we know that they mapped thousands of square miles of Antarctica. It must have been during one of these missions that a passage was found beneath the ice to the cavern by which you entered. Imagine the bravery of that first captain surfacing in that cavern for the first time to find a subterranean lake where no such feature should be.’
‘It sounds a bit of a gamble to me,’ said Brandon. ‘What if he had been wrong and the tunnel just petered out? They would have eventually suffocated.’
‘Well actually I don’t think it was that much of a gamble,’ said Monty. ‘We now believe that the cavern had already been accessed from above and when they saw that it flowed out beneath the ice it was just a case of locating the outfall, but it was a brave journey nevertheless.’
‘But surely it was still a matter of luck they found that lake in the first place, no matter which direction they came from.’
‘Not necessarily,’ said Monty. ‘Using current technology, we now know that there are at least three hundred and fifty similar lakes beneath the Antarctic surface, most constantly being refreshed from the ice above and kept liquid by geothermal activity from below. As we speak, several countries are drilling down to sample these lakes in the hope of discovering creatures or minerals from prehistory. We think that they somehow detected one of the lakes and then utilised the lava tubes to start the development. Anyway, from before the war and for most of the conflict, Germany poured resources into this complex with a view to making it a second home.’
‘But surely the continent is desolate?’
‘Most of it is,’ said Monty, ‘but this part of Antarctica is particularly active when it comes to volcanic activity and the heat from the earth’s mantle keeps several valleys virtually ice free for several months every year. Nothing major grows there, of course, but in the months when it is clear of ice, there’s moss, lichen and even some scrub grass. If you have that, there are certain species of animals that can eke out a basic existence even down here.’
‘So what happened?’ asked India.
‘They were very successful,’ said Monty. ‘In fact, just before their fortunes changed in 1943 they got quite cocky and one of their admirals, Admiral Doenitz, announced to the world that they had completed an impregnable fortress in another part of the world, referring to it as their Shangri La.’
‘Really?’ asked India.
‘Absolutely,’ said Monty. ‘This place is well known amongst the world’s governments, but there has always been a concerted effort to minimise the importance of its existence.’
‘And why is that?’
‘It’s quite simple really; despite the defeat of Germany and the collapse of Nazism, there are still fanatics around the world who grasp onto anything to do with the Nazis in an eternal hope for a return to those dark days. If there was widespread acknowledgement that this place existed and thrived for many years after the war, not only would most of the world realise they had been lied to by their governments in the past, but they would start to wonder what other lies they are being told.’
‘So where have all the people gone?’ asked India. ‘If you reckon that tens of thousands lived here after the war and that existence was not only possible but actually sustainable, surely they should have descendants running around somewhere?’
‘You would think so,’ said Monty, ‘and at first they thrived and were fiercely defensive. They even managed to beat back an American invasion in 1947.’
‘Operation High Jump,’ said Brandon.
‘Exactly,’ said Monty. ‘The invasion landed too far away and the Germans were ready for them, driving them back across the ice. After that, everyone kept their distance, believing that they couldn’t get up to much harm down here, but they were wrong. They had some of the best scientists and brought much of their newest technology with them. Over the next few years they made many incredible advances including high-spec aircraft far in advance of anything the rest of the world had. But more importantly, they brought their nuclear technology with them, and though it was initially intended for military reasons, necessity made them change course and incredibly, they developed a source of power ideal for providing heat and light to the tunnel complex.’
‘You mean like a power station?’ said India.
‘Sort of, but much smaller. They made several and spread them out throughout the area, but the thing is, you can’t just turn nuclear power on or off, all you can do is control the temperature, and to do that they needed cold water and plenty of it.’
‘There’s plenty of that down here,’ said India.
‘Yes, but not in the tunnels, so what they did was tap in to some of the lakes. By raising and lowering the nuclear rods into the lakes, they controlled the power easily. At first it worked well, but there was a problem. The main lake they used for cooling was isolated, with no flow in or out. Over the years it became highly contaminated and ended up as a radioactive soup. This wouldn’t have been a problem in itself, but something changed, perhaps an earthquake, and the water started to seep out, reaching the porous rocks surrounding the tunnels. People started getting ill and I suppose many died until they realised the problem. Radioactive poisoning.’
‘Hang on,’ said Brandon, ‘we’ve just walked through those tunnels.’
‘Exactly,’ said Monty, ‘and that’s why it was important to get you out and into isolation as soon as possible. As it happens, you weren’t in there long enough to suffer any permanent damage, but we had to make sure, and that’s the reason we tasered you. There was no time to explain.’
‘The monsters with black eyes,’ said India. ‘I thought I had dreamt them, but they were the people who pulled us out.’
‘Nothing more than my people wearing nuclear protection suits,’ said Monty, ‘and the eyes were the visors on the respiration masks.’
‘So how were we so ill if there are no lasting problems?’ asked Brandon.
‘We induced that illness,’ said Monty, ‘in order to purge your system of anything you may have ingested. Radioactive poisoning is far more lethal from the inside out and we wanted to give you every possible chance.’
‘Well it was very unpleasant,’ said India with a grimace, ‘but thanks anyway.’
‘So they all died out,’ said Brandon.
‘No, actually they didn’t,’ said Monty. ‘Some of the areas escaped contamination, like this core, and they also expanded into the nearby valleys, cutting new homes into the rock that was contamination free. We also believe they developed large Perspex domes that allowed them to survive out in the valleys. The warmth from the thermally heated ground below and the light coming through the transparent domes meant that crops grew well and life was relatively good. Once settled they started on their main project, the one that had been the focus of the whole expedition, New Berlin.’
‘What on earth was New Berlin?’ asked India.
‘Essentially it was a spiritual complex out in the valley where the elite intended to live surrounded by all the treasures they had stolen from across Europe. They saw it as not only a practical capital but also a core from which their spiritual beliefs could eventually emanate across the world, having embraced the mythology brought over by certain senior members of the SS. To that end, they intended to build a replica of Die-Gruft.’
‘Die-Gruft?’
‘Die-Gruft is the basement of a famous castle in the German Alps called Wewelsberg. Himmler designated it as the spiritual home of the SS before the war and had it redesigned to meet his own perception of a mythological castle based on the Arthurian legends. In the basement he had a round stone circular table installed along with a piped gas supply to feed a central eternal flame. Twelve ornate chairs surrounded the table and his dream was that the twelve most senior SS officers would meet there to rule Europe.’
‘That’s insane,’ said Brandon.
‘But true,’ said Monty. ‘The castle and indeed the basement are still there and it is now a tourist attraction.’
‘I’ve heard something about this,’ said India. ‘Wasn’t there something about niches being built into the wall behind each chair for their ashes when they died?’
‘That’s absolutely correct,’ said Monty. ‘Each general had their own alcove, waiting to contain their remains after they died, but that’s where the similarities end. We know they did build a replica of Die-Gruft but the room they built here wasn’t lined with stone, it was covered with sheets of the purest amber they had looted from St Petersburg in Russia.’
‘Surely you don’t mean the Amber Room of Peter the Great,’ said India.
‘Indeed I do,’ said Monty, ‘are you familiar with it?’
‘I know it was looted from the Catherine Palace by the Germans during the war,’ said India, ‘and it was last seen in Konigsberg in eastern Germany before it disappeared forever.’
‘What was the Amber Room?’ asked Brandon.
‘Basically it’s self-explanatory,’ said India, ‘it was a room lined with swathes of pure amber and precious stones, made around 1771. It was gifted to Peter the Great and often called the eighth wonder of the world. Treasure hunters from all over the world are constantly trying to find where it is now but stories abound that it was loaded onto a U-boat which was subsequently sunk in the Baltic Sea. If it is confirmed to be here, it will be one of the greatest treasure finds in history.’
‘Oh, it is here,’ said Monty, ‘for we have found documents proving the construction, but that’s where it all gets a bit weird.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Well, along with the amber walls, the other thing they changed were the niches. They made them far larger, as apparently they no longer wished their bodies to be burned, but wanted themselves mummified.’
India and Brandon looked at each other sharply, a movement not missed by Monty.
‘Is there something wrong?’
‘Why do you think they wanted to be mummified?’ asked India.
‘Not far from here, we found a several rooms containing all sorts of mummies from all over the world,’ said Monty, ‘and it was apparent that they were studying all the different processes to discover the best method to preserve dead bodies. Apparently these people were so obsessed with their own importance, they wanted to rule over their little kingdom even after they were dead.’
‘Well, that explains the mummies in the U-boat,’ said India. ‘They must have been destined to be brought here for examination.’
‘What U-boat?’ asked Monty.
‘We found a wrecked U-boat in Ecuador that once had the bodies of three mummies inside and we couldn’t work out why.’
‘And the trail led here?’ said Monty.
‘It did.’
‘It certainly is possible,’ said Monty. ‘As the war came to an end they sent many U-boats to stock up ready for it, their cargoes including artworks, jewellery and anything else their deluded minds thought they would need for the anticipated Fourth Reich.’
‘It makes sense, I suppose,’ said Brandon. ‘So have you seen this new Die-Graft?’
‘No, nobody has,’ said Monty, ‘but we have seen documents that confirm it exists.’
‘Then why haven’t you been out there to look for it?’
‘We can’t.’
‘Why not? Surely you could easily get the equipment.’
‘We could, but at the moment it’s not worth the risk.’
‘Why not?’
‘Operation Argus,’ said Monty.
‘And what was that?’ asked Brandon.
‘By 1957, it became obvious to America that those few German nutters were actually developing into a serious threat to national security. More and more reports of fast-flying aircraft were coming from the area and as they had enough on their plate worrying about the growth of Russia, they didn’t need the worry of a second threat emerging from Antarctica. They couldn’t risk another land invasion, so did the only thing they could in the circumstances.’
‘And what was that?’ asked India.
‘They nuked them,’ said Monty.
‘I don’t believe you,’ said Brandon.
‘Oh, they nuked them, all right,’ said Monty, ‘not just once but three times in quick succession. The only thing is, during those explosions they also damaged one of the local atomic energy plants, exposing their rods to the atmosphere in and around the valley. The whole place became just as radioactive as Chernobyl ever was and became the world’s first nuclear, albeit secret, disaster.’
‘How come nobody knows about this?’
‘Who says nobody knows?’ asked Monty. ‘Every government knows, and that is why we are down here, to monitor, take readings, and of course, to make sure people like yourselves don’t come treasure seeking and get yourselves into trouble.’
‘Treasure seekers?’
‘Well, that’s why you are here, aren’t you, to try and get your hands on the Icon.’
‘What do you know about the Icon?’ asked India.
‘Probably no more than you,’ said Monty.
‘Well, that would be nothing,’ said Brandon. ‘We had never heard of it until a few days ago and certainly don’t know what it is.’
Monty looked between them both.
‘You really don’t know about the Icon?’
‘Nope,’ said Brandon.
‘Then let me ask you this,’ said Monty, ‘what happened to Adolf Hitler?’
‘He shot himself in his bunker in Berlin in 1945,’ said Brandon.
‘Wrong,’ said Monty. ‘He flew to Norway and got on board a submarine. Depending on which report you believe, he either ended up dying of old age in Argentina seventeen years later or ended his days here in Neuschwabenland.’
‘Preposterous,’ said India. ‘They found his body outside his bunker. He had been shot in the head and his body was partially burned.’
‘They found a body, admittedly,’ said Monty, ‘same height, same size, same age, same hair, and yes it was burnt, but only just enough to allow probable identification. Hitler was known to have several doubles and it was one of these who was executed to take the focus from his escape.’
‘But Eva Braun and even his German Shepherd dog were alongside him,’ said India.
‘They were, and that’s even stranger. There wasn’t much fuel available at the time and if Hitler was so keen to be burned, what was the purpose of adding those two extra corpses to the pyre unless it was to add credibility to the death?’
‘Urban myth,’ said Brandon.
‘You can believe what you want,’ said Monty, ‘but newspapers across Argentina have constantly reported that Hitler escaped along with many other senior officers. There is even a U-boat commander who admitted bringing him here, but he was dismissed as a liar. The point is that whether he did or not, there is a theory that he is here in Neuschwabenland, and if that story is true, then his remains lie out there in that radioactive Antarctic desert.’
‘I still think it’s a load of bollocks,’ said Brandon.
‘Perhaps so,’ said Monty, sitting back in his chair, ‘but as long as there is the slightest rumour that it is true, then people like you will try to come and find him.’
‘Even if you are right,’ said Brandon, ‘we are not one of the Nazi fanatics you talk about. What would be the point of us finding his remains?’
‘The death’s head rings,’ said Monty.
‘And what are they?’
‘Every SS officer was given a silver ring by Himmler,’ said Monty. ‘Every ring was cast individually and had a skull’s head on top along with a swastika to one side and an occult-based rune on the other. Inside the band of each ring was the name of the officer who once wore it alongside the cast signature of Heinrich Himmler. It was a sign of their superiority and biological purity. When SS officers died, their death’s head rings were returned to the Wewelsberg Castle and stored in an ornate urn as a holy relic in honour of the SS ideal. In all, over eleven and a half thousand rings were returned, but they all conveniently disappeared before the war ended. It has been reported that the body of Adolf Hitler lies mummified in a coffin decorated with those rings and together, they have become collectively known as the Icon.’
‘So you are saying that less than a hundred miles from here, you believe that Adolf Hitler’s mummified body lies in a coffin made from silver rings taken from the corpses of eleven thousand SS officers. Not only that, but each ring is in the form of a skull and each has an occult-based rune engraved on the ring.’
‘That’s about it,’ said Monty. ‘Isn’t it fantastic?’
‘And you are telling me that you believe this bullshit.’
‘I didn’t say I believe it,’ said Monty, ‘but that’s not the point. There are many thousands who do, and as long as they exist, then this place is like a magnet to them and we have to maintain a presence here to stop people delving into what actually went on down here after the war. Of course, the one good thing is, this place is so remote and difficult to get to, not many would be able to afford such an expedition, unless of course you were government sponsored or some sort of billionaire.’
‘Or a drugs baron,’ said India quietly.
‘What do you mean?’ asked Monty.
Brandon glanced at India before turning back to face Monty.
‘There’s something we haven’t been telling you,’ said Brandon. ‘We are not alone. There is a man called Meister somewhere out there in the tunnels as well two of his men.’
‘Who are they?’ snapped Monty.
‘A couple of fanatics,’ said Brandon, ‘and are out there looking for the Icon as we speak.’
‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ shouted Monty, and hit a button on his desk.
‘Yes sir?’ said a voice.
‘Get a team together,’ he snapped. ‘We have visitors.’
‘You should have told me earlier,’ he said, standing up. ‘Come with me, you need to tell me everything you know about them and where you think they are headed. Let’s hope we are not too late.’
‘Right,’ said Monty, leaning over a giant map on a table in the control room ten minutes later, ‘show me where you last saw them.’
‘Don’t you have one of the electronic tables that we saw back down near the dock?’ asked Brandon.
‘No, this area was too close to the nuclear blast and the electromagnetic pulse fried all the circuitry. This is the best we can do.’
Brandon pointed to the area where he had last seen the light on the electronic map.
‘Damn,’ cursed Monty, ‘it looks like they are heading for the bridge.’
‘What’s the bridge?’ asked India.
‘There is only one main exit left to access the valley area,’ said Monty, ‘and that’s via a bridge over an enormous crevasse in the ice. If they have managed to cross that, I’m afraid there’s not much we can do to help them. Come on, we had better get a move on.’
Within fifteen minutes they were dressed in anti-radiation suits and sat at the back of one of the PODs. A system hissed and a clear Perspex lid hinged over them to seal them into the vehicle. In front, a team of six men wearing a heavier duty version of the suits sat patiently, each cradling one of the ‘Zappers’, as Monty like to call them. Behind the POD was another carriage attached to the first. Ominously, this one was empty of seats and just contained decontamination equipment and a shelf of body bags. The engine hummed and within seconds they were travelling at speed through a range of tunnels, though on two occasions they stopped while the POD used a turntable to change direction.
‘Why do we need these?’ asked India, lifting up her respirator.
‘We are about to leave the safe area,’ said Monty. ‘As long as we stay in the POD we will be fine, but if it breaks down or we have to leave it for any length of time you will need to put this on. These suits will give you a couple of hours’ protection, but that’s it. Don’t spend any more time than you have to exposed to the radiation.’
They fell quiet as the journey continued but eventually the tone of the engine changed and the POD started to slow.
‘Looks like we are here,’ said Brandon, and as the POD slowed, the tunnel became lighter as natural daylight filtered in somewhere to their front.
‘The doors are open, sir,’ said the driver, and brought the POD to a halt alongside one of the mini platforms. Before them Brandon could see a huge wooden door swinging open and beyond that, a metal bridge leading over to a glistening expanse of Antarctic wasteland. At the far end of the bridge they could see Meister’s abandoned vehicle, covered with a fine layer of snow.
‘Come on,’ said Monty, ‘let’s take a look.’
They put on their respirators and walked out through the door. As they crossed the bridge, India glanced down nervously and though she couldn’t see the bottom, she was surprised to feel waves of heat, even through her protective suit.
‘What’s down there?’ she asked, her words muffled through the rubber of the respirator.
‘Geological thermal activity,’ said Monty, ‘and there are many such chasms around here. Come on, we need to do this as quickly as possible.’ Within minutes they reached the abandoned vehicle and looked inside but there was no sign of anyone.
‘The rails up front are covered with deep snow,’ said Brandon, ‘that’s why they had to stop.’
‘Do you think they may have returned into the caverns to find a different route?’ asked India.
‘Possible,’ said Brandon, ‘but from what I have seen of the man, I don’t think he would have come all this way just to turn back at the last hurdle. I think he would have continued on foot.’
‘Sir, look,’ shouted one of the other men, and they followed his outstretched hand to gaze at a distant hill. For a second Brandon could see nothing but then identified a tiny figure, stumbling down the slope toward them.
‘It must be one of them,’ shouted India, and started to move forward toward the struggling man.
‘Wait,’ barked Monty, ‘your suit will not protect you out there. Leave this to us.’
The four men wearing the thicker suits ran past them and made their way toward the hill. Another followed a moment later carrying a large orange first aid bag and a folded stretcher.
‘Come on,’ said Monty as they passed, ‘there’s nothing more we can do to help and it’s pointless exposing ourselves like this. The radioactivity is far less back in the tunnels, we can wait there.’ They walked back across the bridge and waited a few metres inside the tunnel entrance, watching helplessly as the rescue attempt unfolded.
Time seemed to drag on as the rescue team forced their way through the snow toward the lone man but eventually they reached him and India could see they were soon on the return journey, carrying a stretcher between them. Finally they crossed the bridge and placed the stretcher on the train platform. A fresh team pushed their way through with a range of medical equipment and busied themselves trying to deal with the man’s injuries.
‘Who is it?’ asked India.
‘I’m not sure,’ said Brandon, ‘but I think it’s Eichman.’
Finally one of the medical team stood up and came over to talk to Monty. As he did, he shook his head sadly.
‘I’m afraid there’s nothing we can do,’ he said. ‘He must have been very close to an exposed core and is terminally infected.’
‘How long?’ asked Monty.
‘Minutes, hours, I’m not sure,’ said the orderly, ‘but not long. The radioactivity has burnt deep through his flesh.’
‘Can we see him?’ asked India.
Monty nodded and both Brandon and India walked over to the man. His parka had been cut open and a painkilling drip had been inserted into his arm. His matted beard was covered with layers of ice and his burnt skin was cracked open. His eyes opened weakly.
‘Hello, Eichman,’ said Brandon with a forced smile, ‘looks like we meet again.’
The man stared at Brandon but didn’t reply.
‘Are the others still out there?’ asked Brandon.
Eichman nodded.
‘Are they alive?’ asked India.
The man shook his head.
‘What happened?’ asked Brandon.
The man started coughing and India pushed Brandon aside.
‘Leave him alone, Brandon,’ she said, ‘can’t you see he’s dying?’ She took off her face mask and placed it to one side before taking one of his hands in hers.
‘India, he has been exposed to radiation,’ said Brandon, ‘put your mask on.’
‘A few minutes won’t hurt,’ she hissed, ‘now leave us alone.’ She turned back to face Eichman. ‘I don’t really know you, Mr Eichman, or anything about you, but despite our differences I want to help. Is there anyone back home that you want me to speak to? To let them know what happened.’
The man smiled weakly and shook his head.
‘Then is there anything you want me to do for you?’
He shook his head again and started coughing.
India realised he was dying in front of her. She smoothed the hair from his eyes before wrapping both her hands around one of his as a last gesture of comfort.
‘India,’ he whispered, and she leaned over to hear him. Despite his best efforts, his voice was weak and she struggled to make out his words, but though she asked him to repeat them, he suffered one more coughing fit and slipped into unconsciousness.
‘That’s enough, India,’ said Brandon from behind her, ‘get back to the POD for a check-up.’
India stood up and walked slowly over to the vehicle, accompanied by a medical orderly.
‘What did he say?’ asked Monty.
‘A dying man’s words are between him and his confessor,’ said India.
‘Fair enough,’ said Monty and returned to help the team pack the kit away.