I glanced at Beverly. She shrugged.
"Then you're our pilot," I said. "How can we help?"
We maneuvered a rolling staircase into place. For the next few hours, Graham directed us around the rocket. He had us open numerous access panels, check the liquid propellant and other fluids, inspect multiple sections of machinery, and perform countless tests.
Finally, he wiped his brow. "Well, I can't promise anything. But she appears to be in decent order."
"Can you fly it?" I asked.
"Good question. Let's check out the cockpit."
Beverly grabbed a metal railing and hoisted herself onto the rolling staircase. She climbed to the cockpit.
I cupped my hands around my mouth. "How's it look?"
"Hang on." She brushed her hands over the cockpit. A canopy popped open. Snowflakes shot into the air. "Okay, we're good to go."
As she climbed into the cockpit, I mounted the staircase. In a few seconds, I stood next to the canopy. The interior of the aircraft was small. It contained just one extended seat.
Beverly sat in the seat so her back was parallel to the ground. I stared into her eyes for a second. "Looks roomy."
"It's awkward." She shifted around. "I feel like an astronaut. But I guess I've sat in worse."
"That makes one of us."
She reached into a compartment and pulled out some manuals. "Okay, my German's a tad bit rusty. But this thing is part of something called the Aggregat series of rockets. Aggregat basically means a group of machines working in harmony. This particular model is referred to as A9/A10, or the Amerika-Rakete."
"That sounds ominous."
"Indeed." She scanned a page. "Here's the operational history. It looks like the Nazis initially saw this as a Wunderwaffe, a revolutionary technology that could seize them a last minute victory. They wanted to load it with sarin gas and fire it at the United States. But time ran out and the technology was transferred here for Fall Garten Eden."
I glanced at the rocket's body. "What can you tell us about the armaments?"
"Two MK-103 thirty millimeter cannons with one hundred rounds," she replied. "Plus, two MG-151 twenty millimeter cannons. Those carry two hundred and fifty rounds apiece."
"Not bad." I stroked my jaw. "So, from here to America, huh? That's a hell of a long ways to send a rocket, especially with 1940s technology."
"It's equivalent to a two-staged intercontinental ballistic missile. The first stage, the A10 booster, was designed to burn for about fifty seconds. This would propel the second stage, the A9 rocket, to a height of three hundred and ninety-four kilometers at a speed of four thousand three hundred kilometers per hour."
I performed the calculations in my head. "That's an altitude of two hundred and forty-five miles at a speed of about two thousand seven hundred miles per hour. What was the potential range?"
"Based on this, I'd say about six thousand miles." She sucked in some air. "Wow, that meant it was at least a decade ahead of its time."
"That's not enough to reach the United States. But it would've allowed the Nazis to target locations in South America and Africa. The bacteria would've multiplied and spread across the globe. I can't say I care for those arctic wolves. But when their ancestors ransacked this place, they pretty much saved the world." I furrowed my brow. "Unfortunately, Dutch was right. That's way too much power for our needs."
"Agreed." Graham wheezed for air as he pulled himself up the staircase. "I made a few tweaks to the booster. It should fire, but only at a fraction of its intended power."
"Are you sure?"
"Only one way to find out."
A strong gust of wind from above nearly knocked me off the ladder. As I steadied myself, my forehead started to hurt. I rubbed it a few times but it only got worse. "Let's give it a test run."
Beverly scooted over. Graham climbed into the seat. He ran his fingers over the dashboard. Then he opened up a hidden panel and started fiddling with the wires.
I climbed down the steps and pulled the stairs away from the rocket. "Okay," I shouted. "All clear."
The rocket fired almost immediately. It grew louder and hotter. Then it started to shake. After a few seconds, the noise faded away and the rocket returned to normal.
A shiver ran through me. Despite decades of neglect, the rocket still worked. I felt a change in the tides.
At last, our luck was beginning to turn.
Chapter 100
The cockpit was too crowded. Graham sat in the middle of the seat, with his elbows kicked out like wings. He was completely in his element and entirely focused on the controls. Unfortunately, he was also taking up way too much space.
Beverly sat next to him, squeezed against the cockpit's left side. She held the manual in one hand. Her other hand pointed to various mechanisms and instruments on the dashboard. A string of technical terms emitted from her lips.
I grabbed the cockpit's edge with one hand and placed my boot next to Graham's right arm. He shifted a few inches to the left. Beverly did the same.
The wind howled in my ears. Snow fell at a rapid clip. A cold breeze brushed against my face. For the first time in hours, my fingers and toes grew cold. I wiggled them but it didn't help.
The coldness spread through my limbs. It worked its way into my torso. I started to shiver.
I swung into the cockpit. It was a tight squeeze but I managed to make it work. Reaching up, I grabbed a long lever. I pulled it toward me until the canopy snapped shut. There were two sets of seat belts. Beverly and Graham buckled themselves into one of them. I took the other one.
I felt a small jolt as the rocket fired up. The seat started to quake. A loud rumbling noise pierced the air.
The Amerika-Rakete shook violently. My body trembled. Ripples ran through my cold cheeks like waves in an ocean.
The rumbling noise was almost deafening. The shaking increased to an unbearable level. The pressure increased and my body felt like it was about to be splattered against the canopy.
The rocket jolted again. The back of my skull slammed into the headrest.
"Hang on," Graham yelled. "Here she goes."
The Amerika-Rakete quaked. Shockwaves passed all the way through me, from my head to my toes.
Then the quaking ceased. I felt a sudden, freeing sensation.
I looked through the canopy. The upper edges of the silo looked closer than I remembered. Seconds later, we shot past them and soared into the sky.
Graham slapped his knee and let out a war whoop. Beverly exhaled a long breath. And I just sat there, stunned beyond belief.
We climbed a few thousand feet into the air. The wind seemed to increase as we gained height. Then the booster rocket burned out and fell away.
The shaking settled down even further. The rumbling noise dissipated. Eventually, Graham leveled off the rocket and we hovered for about a minute on a horizontal plane.
I curled my head to the side. Through the transparent canopy, I saw the hazy edges of the Mühlig-Hofmann Mountains. They were shrouded in snow and mist, looking more like a fantasy than a reality.
Graham took a few minutes to learn the controls. Then he directed us away from the mountains.
"Not bad," I said. "A little bumpy though. How's she handling?"
"Like a dream." Graham gave me a wily grin. "If we make it out of here in one piece, what do you say we take her with us?"
I chuckled. "It's a deal."
We flew for several minutes. My ears started to warm up. So did my fingers and toes. The heat spread to my torso.
Graham cleared his throat. "I see them."
I perked up. "Already?"
He nodded at the canopy.