“You aren’t concerned that Hitler now rules a dictatorship?” Jürgen asked skeptically. Karl shook his head.
“The parliament is so hostile to this new government—how else could the Party bring stability but to bypass them?”
“He promised to restore law and order,” Lydia reminded us. “That’s a difficult thing to achieve without a few hard decisions along the way.”
“And these reports of the SA barricading Jewish businesses? Of harassment of Jews on the streets? The book burnings?” Jürgen frowned. “What do you make of these things?”
“Some incidents were real—but the rest of what you speak of is mostly rumors.” Karl shrugged. “You know how whispers spread, especially in certain communities.”
“Which communities do you mean, Karl?” I asked, frowning.
“Would you look at that,” Lydia said suddenly, and we all followed her gaze to where Hans and Georg were seated side by side on the ground, a little collection of stones between them. “Sofie, we must get Hans and Georg together more. They’ll grow up to be dear friends, just as the four of us are.” Karl turned to look at them too, and he smiled softly at the sight. But Jürgen and I exchanged a glance. The conversation was clearly over, but I didn’t feel reassured at all.
“What were you and Karl talking about today when you walked away from us? Did he mention the job?” I asked Jürgen later that night, once we were in bed. He had been unusually quiet through dinner. When Georg made silly faces and Mayim and I gave him the laughs he so clearly expected, Jürgen barely managed a smile.
But we’d been married long enough for me to know that Jürgen needed the cover of darkness to open up about his worries. And the minute my head hit the pillow, my curiosity got the better of me.
“Do you remember a few weeks before the election, when the space society held our last launch?” Jürgen asked.
“I do.”
“Karl brought an audience without warning us. It turns out the men were senior officials in the Nazi party.”
That startled me. I sat up and flicked on my bedside lamp, then turned to frown down at him. Jürgen also sat up and retrieved his glasses from the table on his side of the bed. We stared at one another.
“Did you know who they were at the time?”
“No, I didn’t—but I was humiliated, and frankly, irritated with Karl for bringing anyone at all. Besides, it didn’t seem to matter much at the time.” Jürgen drew in a deep breath. “Only it turns out the Nazis want to establish their own rocket program. Karl told me today that the position he’s been hinting at would be with a new division within Army Ordnance.”
“A job? In rockets?” I was so startled by this, I couldn’t hide my shock.
“You’ve never taken my work seriously,” Jürgen said abruptly. He was right—I had not. But for good reason.
“Your rockets explode without warning at least half the time! Including this exact launch we’re discussing, if I remember correctly. Isn’t that what happened?” He didn’t reply, so I pushed again. “It floated—”
“It flew, Sofie. Rockets don’t float. They are propelled with force—”
“—for fifteen seconds. Then it exploded. Didn’t you say that a chunk of debris hit one of the other space society members and burned a hole in his coat?” At this, Jürgen fell silent. I sighed impatiently. “I’m allowed to be a little skeptical. You’re talking about flying to the moon with something that can’t get more than a few feet off the ground.”
“Do you really think I’d have invested these years into rocketry if it wasn’t a viable technology? At present, our prototypes aren’t reliable, but inevitably they will be perfected. Every failed launch is an experiment we can learn from.”
“Have they offered jobs to everyone in the rocket group?”
“Karl and I to start with, although I suspect others will be approached soon. As keen as Karl is on rockets, he’s no scientist. He will handle the business aspects of the program, and they want me to lead the technical side.”
“And the ultimate goal is to send a man into space?” I clarified, because this still seemed so unlikely I could barely believe my ears. The rockets Jürgen’s group experimented with weren’t just unreliable—they were toy sized.
“There’s a possibility that they have an ulterior motive.”