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The German Wife(82)

Author:Kelly Rimmer

When I blinked, I was back in the courtyard with my exhausted husband, staring at his blackened eye. Keep on the path? Taking even a step off meant death.

“Jürgen is devoted to the program,” I said hollowly. “We’re both committed.”

Karl met us at the jetty on the island, and after greeting Lydia with a kiss, he helped me disembark and then led me to a waiting Army vehicle. As a young soldier drove us to the other end of the island, Karl poured us hot tea from a thermos and offered treats procured from a café in Rügen. The car came to a stop on a hill, and Karl opened the door for us. There was little shelter—just a small, three-sided wooden shack.

Farther down the hill a larger building had been erected, along with two half-constructed towers and some half-built stands, clearly intended for a future audience.

“Where is Jürgen?” I asked Karl, as he helped me to a seat in the shack.

“All going well, you’ll see him after the launch,” he assured me. Then he pointed ahead. Some distance from the other buildings, a white rocket was visible beside scaffolding. It was difficult for me to judge its size at first—until, with a start, I realized that the swarm of dark objects moving around the base was people.

“How big is it?” I asked Karl uneasily.

“This is the Aggregate 3. She’s twenty-two feet long and two and a half feet wide. She weighs over 1,600 pounds.” He tilted his head at me, brows knitting. “Are you not feeling well, Sofie? You’re awfully pale.”

“I was just picturing something more like the rockets you two used to fire from that dump in Berlin,” I admitted. “Maybe a little larger but…” This rocket was many times larger than I was anticipating. They’d done all this in four years?

Karl gave a generous belly laugh and patted my shoulder as if I were an amusing child.

“Did you hear that, Lydia? Sofie thought that we were firing those tiny toys we played with in Berlin.”

“Oh God, no, Sofie.” She laughed too. “They were—what? Four feet high?”

“Five at best,” Karl chuckled. “And so narrow too.” He gave me a gentle smile as he explained, “I’m surprised Jürgen hasn’t kept you abreast of his brilliant work.”

“He respects the secrecy of the program,” I said weakly.

“These rockets run on liquid fuel and require a lot of that to achieve the height and the distance that we are aiming for.”

“Will these rockets go to the moon?” I asked.

“Oh sure,” Karl said, waving his hands dismissively. “I mean, in theory these kinds of rockets could do many things. And it is still the intention of the program that we will one day launch a space mission. Sure, of course. One day.”

The men around the base retreated, and a sudden flare of light fired from the base of the rocket. The supporting structure fell away and the device smoothly and effortlessly rose into the sky. I held my breath, terrified by the might of the thing, and then I gave a squeak of panic when after just a few seconds, it wobbled.

I heard Karl curse beside me, and I turned to him in alarm, fearing we were in danger. But he didn’t seem scared—just frustrated. He snatched his hat from his head and threw it furiously onto the ground, then stormed off, cursing under his breath. The rocket was still wobbling as it traveled up and out over the ocean. It disappeared from view, and then in the distance, flames rose over the water.

“Karl mentioned that there’s been problems with the guidance system,” Lydia said as she helped me to my feet, and we began to make our way slowly back toward the car.

“Mr. zu Schiller has asked me to take you to the office to wait until they have debriefed. You can have some food there and freshen up,” the driver said.

“Thank you,” Lydia said politely. She insisted I take the front seat and I was grateful for the extra space to stretch my legs. As we pulled away from the viewing site, I noticed an immense crater in the earth just a few dozen feet away from where we’d been sitting. It was dozens of feet across, and even deeper than it was wide. It could have swallowed maybe half of a city block.

“What’s that?” I asked the driver.

“That’s the impact from the failed launch from last week,” he said. Then he whistled. “Didn’t get off the ground properly before it detonated. It almost knocked me off my feet even over the other side of the island. That is why we aim them into the ocean.”

I failed to hide my distress, and he misread it, giving me a gentle smile.

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