A Shift in Priorities - Sequel

[rast]

The future is no more uncertain than the present.
(Walt Whitman)

It seemed the Germans were getting used to having no functional government. Well, no overarching government; on local and regional level things were working quite fine. And several states – Bavaria, Tyrol, Austria, Württemberg, the southern bunch – weren’t really affected by the turmoil. It was first and foremost Prussia that was in dire straits. Yeah, it was the revenge for Bismarck’s rapacity in the last century. Prussia had grown too rash and out of proportion.

But because Bismarck’s Germany had been Prussia in disguise, the whole structure was in trouble now. It was not so that people were loath of Germany and being Germans, but a lot of folks were loath of being compulsory Prussians. Gudrun had analysed the situation with care – and with the help of several professional analysts and two polling institutes. Her new party – a name had still to be found; something with liberty – would have to address this factor.

It was about captivating all these movements, of course. A new German union had to be forged – beyond the dreary atmosphere of the old Reich. It wouldn’t be easy, but Gudrun was confident. Her dad – as leader of the communists – had almost succeeded in capturing the Germans. She wasn’t a communist, quite the opposite was true, but her dad’s ability to enthral the masses was in her, she was sure.

 

[Ciryatur]

Oh no.... Gudrun, no.

 

[Hohensaufen]

Oh yeah... Gudrun, go!

Oh no.... Gudrun, no.

 

[rast]

Time, matter, space – all, it may be, are no more than a point.
(Denis Diderot)

The Feuerdrache was due to land in two days time. That was excellent. The trainee pilots needed to practise with the real thing. Von Reventlow would hate it and shriek in protest, but Jochen Zeislitz had already signed the order. After all, he was the general here. Preparations for Raumschmiede were still ongoing. There was a time slot of at least two months available for pilot training. And Jochen was determined to make best use of it.

Major Jähn and captains Grabowski and Thalhammer, the Feuerdrache jockeys, would, of course, have to bear the brunt of the work. Well, the Feuerdrache was their mount. Jochen’s staff would assist, sure, but they were the ones who were intimately familiar with the widget. And the Feuerdrache didn’t have training controls; it had to be the real thing – or nothing.

The contestants – there were twenty-one of them – were well advanced. The simulator couldn’t teach them any new tricks. As a side effect, the manoeuvres would also keep the Ivans guessing what was going on. They would figure it out in the end, no doubt; but until then the erratic dashes and lunar landings should give them some uneasy moments. Their bus was sitting in Siberia once again; they seemed to be rather ill-disposed to frequent missions.

Jochen was glad that he was only responsible for training the crews of the Four Sisters – and next those of the Junior Siblings. At Prerow, he recently had met Bruno Bredigkeit, who was agonising over planning how to train the Phönix crew. Boy, that really must be a nightmare…

 

[rast]

You have no control over the hand that life deals you, but how you play that hand is entirely up to you.
(Voltaire)

Growing old was goofy, thought Olga G’Norebbe. Sure, being powerful helped attracting the doctors, but it didn’t conjure away the various old age afflictions. Well, herself was just ordinarily ill off, but poor Musa truly had got the shit end. The man was enduring it stoically, yet it was a tragedy. His mind was still clear, thank goodness, but his body was in shambles.

It was a pity to see him suffer like this. What a fine alpha leader he had been, in those days. Damn, it wasn’t just... But squealing didn’t help. After all, he was alive; so, she should relax and enjoy the time they still could be together. He was the Old Man now, really, though it didn’t look like he should copy General Bauer’s grandevity. Yeah, the quacks said his life might end any time. Just like that, falling over and being dead.

Musa had never striven after wealth. He didn’t care for riches and possessions. That was okay. She would get along. The children were grown. Grandchildren were missing still, but Paula was pregnant. Delivery was due in three months. Indeed, with a little bit of luck, Musa would live to see his first grandchild born…

 

[rast]

The more closely you look at one thing, the less closely can you see something else.
(Werner Heisenberg)

This Grand Vizier was travelling – and he was going to visit Ras Fartak – at the end of next week! The announcement alone should have sufficed to throw everybody hereabouts into fits of panic. However, Miralay Türkeş, the new military commander, was still committed elsewhere – details were shrouded in military secrecy. Doctor Yünbaş, the civilian director, was in charge. And Yünbaş had fainted when hearing the news. That really didn’t bode well…

Wernher von Braun knew the Turks well enough to predict a time of utter chaos. Even if there was no reason for alarmism – and OŞU’s affairs were running smoothly indeed – they inevitably would run amok. Okay, he would sit back and watch the show. From what he had heard, this new grand vizier, Rüştü Erdelhun Paşa, was a true spitfire. His first visits – to units and institutions close to ĺstanbul – must have been singularly turbulent.

Well, Ras Fartak was exceptional in many respects. There was a lot to inspect – and to gape at, even for a redoubtable potentate. Nothing comparable existed in the whole Ottoman Empire. And the fledgling Anadol Çelik steel plant was a marvel of its own, although the mighty man perhaps had no palate for the achievement of installing a steel plant at the end of the world – without disrupting the missile launches even once.

A pity one couldn’t show Ucan Halı to the paşa. The real thing, of course, floating in orbit. There would be photographs galore, sure. Or might the great man be inclined to ride up and take a look himself? They said he had been a daredevil – in his younger years. Now, wouldn’t that be great? Perhaps one should prepare rocket for the purpose, just as a contingency…

 

[rast]

And what is impossible to science?
(Friedrich Engels)

Planning and constructing Himmelsschmiede had been entrusted to Gustav Stelzner. As commander of the Raumkobold-26 mission, the first manned moon landing, his further RRA career had been preprogrammed. A Luftwaffe lieutenant-general and veritable doctor of aerospace engineering and teaching professor at the Charlottenburg technical university, he was considered the top man for the job. Okay, the Russians had already converted their old orbital station, NSÓ, to a kind of space factory, but that could hardly serve as model for Himmelsschmiede.

Would you really want to process the ore in orbit? For any kind of industrial processing, oxygen and carbon were required, which were not freely available in space. Hence, serious processing should occur down on earth. That left cutting up the ore body, parcelling the fragments and sending them down as tasks for Himmelsschmiede. Heat would nevertheless be required for melting the ore and forming it into pellets – or cylinders – or whatever. Therefore, a special reactor would be needed.

How did you break up a solid ore asteroid? Blast it into small pieces – and melt the chunks into the form required for transport. Sounded straightforward, but was awkward to execute in space. Could you saw the stuff? Yes, it was possible, but a fairly slow procedure. However, the individual chunks came one at a time and could easily be sent – just by pushing them – to the melting pot.

How to send them down to earth? Gliders were required, a kind of remote controlled Große Schwestern. An NPP could hoist them up, a hundred or so with one lift. Anchor them on Himmelsschmiede, fill them up with ore one after another – and let them glide down. It could be done without pilots; the knowhow was there. All this wasn’t economical, not at all, but it was possible.

How many kosmonauts would you need? Three to operate the saw unit and three for reactor and melting pot. Packaging could be automated. Add three for comms and care – and a boss. Ten folks in all. That gave you the parameters. Not a big deal, really. But something new – and hence attractive. The reactor, though, had to be ordered right away. The Siemens engineers said they were going to need about one year for converting a standard model for RRA’s purposes.

Could the station be ready on arrival of Eisenhans? Rather unlikely, thought Stelzner, but the asteroid could wait. It had been out there for millions of years. A few more months wouldn’t matter. The public would be riveted by Himmelsschmiede construction anyway. All would be well…

 

[rast]

Any object, intensely regarded, may be a gate of access to the incorruptible eons of the gods.
(James Joyce)

S.M.H. Königin Elisabeth Christine quickly had become the fulcrum of research activity. The vessel, an old hospital ship in service since at least twenty years, had been refurbished from the bottom up for its new task. It offered three STEMs and more modern labs than Professor Ramsauer’s station on the Isle of Sheppey. Hence, one had moved the whole circus to Sheerness. Thank goodness the culture cabinets were designed to be transportable. The ways of the Snowpushers often were oddish, but sometimes were producing surprising results.

In terms of finding a counteragent, however, one hadn’t made any progress yet. The identified viruses were refusing to cooperate. The German colleagues, who had arrived together with the hospital ship, had been full of good ideas, all of which didn’t work. The boss said one simply had to carry on; success might lie just around the corner. Konrad Schabunde had grown wary of these verdicts. The boss was good at finding something by attentive observation, but not so good at directing a large team.

Bromidic speeches didn’t help. One had to dig deep to find methods for breeding and modifying viruses. Konrad had teamed with two German colleagues who also were virus specialists. One was doggedly developing the basics. That might take time, a lot of time. But one couldn’t force things. One had to learn the ways of the viruses. Once this had been accomplished, one might be able to employ the tiny rascals for one’s purposes. The rest of the crew were either assisting – or following the errands of the bosses.

 

[rast]

You cannot fight against future. Time is on its side.
(William E. Gladstone)

The labour situation was bound to remain tense. Friedrich August von Hayek had thoroughly acquainted himself with the question of automation. Zusies might offer an answer – in twenty years. The models available at present were only capable of controlling the simplest operations. The experts said they knew the way ahead. The zusies had to become faster and to possess more storage capacity. One was working on the issue, but progress was slow – and pretty much case-by-case, as new technical solutions were only becoming available raggedly.

Okay, unsophisticated automation was possible still – and was done all over the place. It could – and did – liberate quite some workers, but not enough for the purposes of the German economy. However, worker was not worker. There were clever ones and dumb ones. In the olden days, before the Great War, many clever workers had filled the factory halls, because education had been expensive. This had changed after the war – under socialist rule. Today, clever workers had become the exception, and dumb blokes were populating the shop floors.

You could replace a dumb-ass by a machine. But you couldn’t morph the dumb-ass into a clever operator. The manufacturing industry increasingly required clever operators, while the construction industry could still do with a lot of dumb manual workers. Yet, even there machines were progressively replacing ordinary labourers, a process that had already been completed in agriculture. Indeed, it were clever operators who were wanted everywhere. Foreign workers were no valid solution here. Language problems usually led to low job gradings.

But if you transferred production into foreign countries, there would be no language problems – and you could exploit the stock of clever operators found in that country. Yes, that was the solution to be proposed to the bosses: instead of importing workers from abroad, set up your factories in these countries.

 

[rast]

The struggle for freedom is ultimately not resistance to autocrats or oligarchs but resistance to the despotism of public opinion.
(Ludwig von Mises)

And what about the female workforce? Well, the first and foremost task of women was to bear and raise children. Working away from house and home did not promote this purpose. No doubt, women could replace male workers; the Great War had shown that. They weren’t any better on the job, rather less so because physically weaker. But this wasn’t the point; working was barring them from having kids.

It was even worse. This Russian invention, the contraceptive pill, now universally available, was keeping women from becoming pregnant. Economically, this was suicide in slow-motion for a nation. Population growth, even a limited one, was essential for stability. Considering that not all women were fertile, at least three children per prolific woman were required for maintaining social equilibrium.

Working women with children were no recipe for success either. They required other women to care for their brats, keeping them from having offspring in turn. – Was there any chance of getting these ideas implemented? Friedrich August von Hayek wasn’t sure. For reasons inexplicable women seemed determined to equal men – and to forget their principal task. It was nonsense, of course, but a forceful trend.

Indeed, Spengler and the other pessimists might be right. The West was bound to perish – for lack of progeny. The pest had decimated the populace. And the women, eager to be like men, were now about to deliver the mortal blow.

 

[rast]

Heaven sends down its good and evil symbols and wise men act accordingly.
(Confucius)

Bruno Bredigkeit had sent him RRA’s Foreign Legion with the mandate to train them as dinghy pilots. Good grief! They weren’t in the training schedule. Eighteen extra guys, all newly promoted lieutenants, fresh from kosmonaut training. – Well, the original plan had earmarked them for piloting chemical rockets. But that was an old hat, of course. The only chemical rockets still in use today were the dinghies and the gliders. Therefore, qualifying the dudes as dinghy pilots made a lot of sense.

Yeah, why not? It meant some extra work – for his staff and the trainers, but it could be done without upsetting the training of the NPP pilots. In fact, it was – well, could be – an useful complement. And the lieutenants – six Ukrainians, four Hungarians, three Italians, one Bulgarian, one Swede, one Finn, one Frenchman, and one Yid – were excellently trained. Hence, Jochen Zeislitz had given his okay.

The four dinghies of the Feuerdrache were sufficient for training twelve guys at a time. That was neat. One had twenty-one NPP pilots and eighteen jockeys for the dinghies. There were three trainers – Jähn, Grabowski, Thalhammer – for the Feuerdrache, and twelve for the dinghies. All in all, the Foreign Legion blokes were going to get more training than the individual NPP pilots. That meant one should recruit them for the Four Sisters.

He had already officially proposed it to Prerow. It was a matter of politics, of course. But what was the use of training these lads, when they weren’t allowed to contribute? Their German was impeccable. And they were really good, all of them. – Well, Kammler would decide the issue. And Kammler didn’t care a damn about diplomatic dances. He was set to bring the Germans to the stars. A couple of foreigners wouldn’t upset the scheme.

 

[rast]

It is terrible to contemplate how few politicians are hanged.
(Gilbert K. Chesterton)

Tokyo eventually had signalled assent, in their usual stilted way. It had to be a strictly private venture; the government always had to be in a position of plausibly denying any knowledge. The authorities would hence ignore the project – and refuse to take cognisance. That was okay for Tanaka Kakuei – and it was okay for the yondai zaibatsu, the Big Four – Sumitomo, Mitsui, Mitsubishi and Yasuda.

The interrelations were inscrutable. The actual construction would be done by the chaebols – at Pohang on the Korean east coast. Hanjeon – in conjunction with Hokushinkai, it seemed – would provide the nuclear equipment. Samsung would provide the steel plant and the aerospace equipment – together with Sunkyong and Hyundai, and the Big Four on the backseat. Amikiri was going to be the name of the project.

The site at Pohang would offer the option of building one to four NPP ships at a time. And the Chinese? Well, investors would be welcome, of course. – Without foreign investors, one would build just one ship, the Amikiri, that Samsung Aerospace was going to operate. Tanaka was confident. He had studied the Indian Federation’s NPP project. Compared with their sober effort, Amikiri should be a piece of cake.

 

[rast]

Nobody made a greater mistake than he who did nothing because he could do only a little.
(Edmund Burke)

It seemed the men in the Kremlin had – at long last – made up their mind. Indrik Zver was going to be sent to the asteroid belt. Capturing an asteroid and shooting it towards NSÓ was the planned mission. Yes, of course, the Nyemtsi had already done that. But NSÓ had been converted to a space factory, hence putting it to use was only reasonable – no matter what other powers were doing. Ládno, nobody at Achinsk and Shishmarevo would contradict; after all, one was glad to have been given a mission.

For Indrik Zver it would be the longest and furthermost mission to date. However, there was nothing in it that couldn’t be managed. The boat would be full, though. The trainees for Stribog, Khors and Svarog, already present during the recent dash to the Moon, would be on board again. It wasn’t a big problem, yet travelling beyond Mars orbit was something else than just hopping to the Moon. But such matters could be planned and organised in advance. That was what one was doing right now.

Polkovnik Ivan Ivanovich Drubchev, Indrik Zver’s captain, had duly distributed tasks among his core staff. In addition to the training crews, one would also take along extra scientists and engineers specialised on mining. Yeah, accommodation was not an issue; the ship was large enough. Boredom was going to be the problem. Once you were on your way, nothing was going to happen for weeks. Thus, keeping folks busy was the major concern. Popular entertainment, the biggest task for conscientious kosmonauts…

 

[rast]

News is what people don’t want you to print. Everything else is ads.
(William Randolph Hearst)

National elections? Next Year? Franz Josef didn’t seem to care. Normally, it was his job to fix a date. But he wasn’t seen making any arrangements for it. In case the government failed to schedule the elections well in advance, the Reichstag could do it. However, the deputies wouldn’t budge either. One was still in a state of emergency; Prussia, the largest and by far most populous state of the empire, was ungovernable. How could elections be held under such awkward conditions?

Hanne Zülch was intrigued. Would Franz Josef truly get away with it? She knew that his interpretation of democracy was kind of trippy. The German people had elected him once; that was enough for him – to rule as long as possible. But the deputies – at least those of the opposition parties – should be eager to hold elections. It was their chance to seize power. Obviously, they weren’t keen on inheriting this mess…

Indeed, Franz Josef was a cunning fellow. He had only made some few moves – and had succeeded in destabilising the whole system. Since then, he was just sitting in his chair and watching things unfold. The most perplexing realisation, though, was that the mess was working. The old rules were suspended, but the economy was thriving – and people were of good cheer. Hanne was inclined to figure it for a miracle.

It was impossible that he could have planned all this. He must be the proverbial guy in luck who stumbles from fluke to fluke – without really understanding what’s going on. Or was he really so devious? Could it be? – Well, seeing him squat in his office, you wouldn’t think he was such a bright lad. But he apparently had depths that weren’t visible behind his Bavarian rough-skin. – Anyway, it looked as if the 1966 national elections were going to be rained off…

 

[rast]

No matter how many instances of white swans we may have observed, this does not justify the conclusion that all swans are white.
(Karl Popper)

The great man had come from Mecca and Medina, where he had inspected – and rigorously carpeted – the Turkish guard regiments. The news of this bollocking had travelled faster than the Grand Vizier himself. Hence, the jitters had taken possession of Ras Fartak well in advance. Doctor Yünbaş had sought refuge in the loo – or rather evacuation… In the end, one had been forced to drag him out.

Well, the Grand Vizier had been in ebullient spirits. He really seemed to have liked what he was being shown. And, fortunately, Yünbaş had come down sufficiently for providing meaningful explanations. The visit had only lasted one hour, or almost. Upon departure, the Grand Vizier had declared his fullest satisfaction – and had pledged preferential funding.

Not being a Turk, Wernher von Braun had been kept well in the background. That undoubtedly had been well-founded; the great man was known to be an utter Turk-jingo. Yet, it had scratched at von Braun’s ego. After all, he wasn’t a nobody. Without him, mankind would still not have left Earth. And Ras Fartak, as it stood, was his work – for the most part.

It wasn’t just. Perhaps he should take the consequences. This NPP business wasn’t his affair anyway. His proposal to shoot the Grand Vizier into orbit had been bluntly rejected, of course. And Ucan Halı enhancement had been heaped on Demirci Bey’s shoulders, the former military head of OŞU. Okay, at fifty-three he was far too young for retirement. But any technical university ought to be glad to have him for professor. He should start putting out his feelers…

 

[rast]

All situations in which the interrelationships between extremes are involved are the most interesting and instructive.
(Wilhelm von Humboldt)

The construction plans for Arx were truly getting bulky. The original drawing office was bursting at the seams; two more rooms – and fifty additional draftsmen – had been procured. And that was even before detailed planning had yet started. One was still in the definition phase, collating ideas and trying to create a coherent overall concept. Karl Heinz Beckurts was intrigued: the process had started with a general idea. It had looked quite straightforward. But the more you went into detail, the more details required planning.

The civil engineers of the steel companies seemed indifferent. For them, everything broke down to the largest elements their presses and hammers could process. Everything beyond that size had to be bolted – or welded – together anyway. Beckurts had asked them whether the ores of Eisenhans would make any difference. They had only guffawed. Iron was not a rare material down here on Earth, and it wasn’t at all expensive. This asteroid circus was a political manoeuvre; the space stuff wasn’t needed.

In fact, it would be so costly that nobody would ever want to touch it. It was wholly expendable. – Okay, he had already guessed so. Noble metals – or uranium – might be a different story, but ordinary iron ore could never be worth the enormous effort. Eisenhans was a PR stunt. – Well, one had to live with such inconsistencies. He could only hope that Arx wasn’t another stunt.

 

[rast]

Don’t talk to me about a man’s being able to talk sense; everyone can talk sense. Can he talk nonsense?
(William Pitt)

The Xiao Riben and their Gaoli bangzi underlings were building one of these new-fangled nuclear spaceships! And the Great Qing was watching. It was outrageous. Field Marshal Dang Gangjun had immediately phoned Nánjīng. The Little Man had been absent, travelling somewhere in the deep south. But his points had been taken; the prime minister would get in touch – once he was back. Very well then, he would hang on.

Gathering information wasn’t difficult; the Gaoli bangzi were freely distributing flyers and were offering to send high-lustre exposés. Obviously, they were prepared to sell their product. That looked fishy. Was it a hoax? One had to be careful not to be short-changed. He had interviewed several domestic scientists. The technical principles were evident – but only the Déyizhi and the Èluósī rén had operational units yet.

Theoretically, the Middle Kingdom was also capable of constructing such craft. However, one was missing any experience in space matters – just like the Xiao Riben and their underlings. Déyizhi and Èluósī rén both had a long tradition of spaceflight; they had been on the Moon with conventional rockets. And only the Tǔ'ěrqí rén had yet been able of copying these efforts. Their nuclear vessel, though, was far from ready.

Okay, why then trust shady aliens? The Middle Kingdom should do it too. One had as much experience as the Xiao Riben – none. And the domestic scientists were certainly up to the task. That was the message he intended to present to the Little Man. Don’t buy dubious foreign stuff. Let’s do it ourselves.

 

[rast]

To understand this for sense it is not required that a man should be a geometrician or a logician, but that he should be mad.
(Thomas Hobbes)

The obligatory inspection and maintenance period for the Feuerdrache had passed. Thank goodness there was no asteroid bug quarantine. Pilot training had begun yesterday. At the moment, the big bus was dashing towards the Moon – with the dinghies to be deployed in lunar orbit. Unsophisticated flight manoeuvres would be the rule for the next fortnight. Well, you had to start with the basics. But it was humdrum.

Jochen Zeislitz had decided to stand aloof of the initial training sequences. As – by now – legendary chief pilot of the Hammer – on both journeys – he would make his appearance only when the combat simulations started. Of course, he had greeted the trainees on arrival. But that had been casual drivel only. Taking command and ordering the lads around would be quite another matter.

The Ivans had sent their jumbo to the belt, obviously striving to copy the Feuerdrache’s exploit. That meant the Feuerdrache was the only bus cruising in the Earth-Moon system right now. Not that it mattered as far as navigation was concerned, but security measures could be relaxed. There was no need to carry armed missiles and loaded guns.

Remer said there was some commotion in the forefield. One was monitoring two groups of wild men. That was altogether exceptional. They had been warned not to enter Hammerhorst’s perimeter. However, they seemed to be in some kind of contact with each other – and bend on meeting in the west, close to the sea.

One had already alarmed Professor Ramsauer. He had asked to be supplied with blood samples of the groups. Hence, Remer was about to mount a little expedition. – Wild men in groups? Not hiding? Strange…

 

[rast]

Fools rush in where angels fear to tread.
(Alexander Pope)

USS Hydra’s pusher plate was in place. And at the construction site of USS Hercules, the Westinghouse crew was fiddling to mount the reactor. It looked good for the US space effort. However, new dark clouds were blowing across the mountains. The isolationists, thus far stout supporters of the project, had been reconsidering their stance. With the pending accession of Cascadia, Nova Scotia and the other ex-Canadian fragments, spending a lot of money for dubious space stuff suddenly had looked wrong.

Harvey Allen had immediately taken off to Washington. But restricting the damage was all he had been able to achieve. The funds already allocated would be spun out over a period of twelve years. That should allow completing the two ships under construction, but then was going to severely limit operations. With the construction contracts renegotiated only recently, that was the only way open. Well, at least one was due to have two spaceships – but most probably no nukes to drive them…

Okay, in politics the wind used to turn quite often. One just had to persevere. Who could tell what the situation was going to be like in two years’ time? But the repercussions would be tangible: even recruitment would be affected. No money, no salary, the Lord help us… But perhaps God will not forsake us in the end; the winds of change were known to be volatile…

 

[Pera]

To understand this for sense it is not required that a man should be a geometrician or a logician, but that he should be mad.
(Thomas Hobbes)

The obligatory inspection and maintenance period for the Feuerdrache had passed. Thank goodness there was no asteroid bug quarantine. Pilot training had begun yesterday. At the moment, the big bus was dashing towards the Moon – with the dinghies to be deployed in lunar orbit. Unsophisticated flight manoeuvres would be the rule for the next fortnight. Well, you had to start with the basics. But it was humdrum.

Jochen Zeislitz had decided to stand aloof of the initial training sequences. As – by now – legendary chief pilot of the Hammer – on both journeys – he would make his appearance only when the combat simulations started. Of course, he had greeted the trainees on arrival. But that had been casual drivel only. Taking command and ordering the lads around would be quite another matter.

The Ivans had sent their jumbo to the belt, obviously striving to copy the Feuerdrache’s exploit. That meant the Feuerdrache was the only bus cruising in the Earth-Moon system right now. Not that it mattered as far as navigation was concerned, but security measures could be relaxed. There was no need to carry armed missiles and loaded guns.

Remer said there was some commotion in the forefield. One was monitoring two groups of wild men. That was altogether exceptional. They had been warned not to enter Hammerhorst’s perimeter. However, they seemed to be in some kind of contact with each other – and bend on meeting in the west, close to the sea.

One had already alarmed Professor Ramsauer. He had asked to be supplied with blood samples of the groups. Hence, Remer was about to mount a little expedition. – Wild men in groups? Not hiding? Strange…

A zombie apocalypse ?