I sound like I am actually talking to myself. As if I were trying to convince myself of it.
He smiles patronizingly. He assures me he is certain that I am trustworthy. He is not doubting whether I’m the right candidate, he is only having trouble finding the words to explain what follows. His body relaxes back on the chair and he opens up to me. He calls me by my first name. It makes me feel like we’ve known each other for a very long time.
He begins.
He tells me that Hitler’s regime performed all sorts of extraordinary experiments before the end of the war. As the final battles were coming to an end, they attempted to erase every record of many of these scientific ventures. He says Berlin was host to one such major endeavor.
Clues regarding this project were found soon after the war by the soviet army, but were inconclusive. They kept all findings strictly confidential, away from the eyes of the allies. The place we are currently standing on was the first piece of this puzzle. Its purpose was unclear a priori. All documents had been burned. All personnel had evacuated and vanished. It took a long time to gather snippets of information and put together a glimpse of what all this was about.
I look around the room. The walls are made of concrete. All still in great condition. It’s like this underground fortress was never aware of the brutal war that had taken place just above the surface.
The doctor continues. They found two other bunkers, very similar to this one, in other remote corners of the city. One lays right in the heart of the West. The soviets found it before the city was split between the Allied Forces and they have kept it secret from local authorities to maintain control over the findings. I am reminded, of course, that this is strictly confidential information.
He takes my nodding as a pause. I force him to continue by asking what these bunkers were built for.
He warns me that it may sound a little… unbelievable at first — and in fact, it may indeed be inaccurate information, but he also points out that we won’t know for sure until I take part in the experiment.
He uses complex scientific terms to describe the purpose of the bunkers. I do not understand a single word. He knows, so he repeats it in plain words. They are nodes used for communication throughout space and time. I still don’t quite understand. Is it used to send messages? Like a telephone? He shakes his head. It’s to transport things, objects, even people. Like a subway system? No. it’s remote transportation. No tunnels or cables. Things are transported from one bunker to another through, what sounds like, pseudoscience.
To be honest, it sounds quite stupid. The Nazis were known to carry out impossible experiments. Hitler was a nut. He veneered dark magic and the paranormal. This place is simply the debris of a delusional mind.
The doctor adds something that makes it even more unbelievable. He says its purpose was to transport not only through space, but time as well.
Now I know for sure — this is a lost cause.
I play along, however, curious to find out how deep this rabbit hole goes. The doctor carries on speaking. His vocabulary becomes more and more sophisticated and eventually my mind wanders. I begin feeling a faint sense of panic. Even if this is all just crazy talk, I am now part of it. I may not take it seriously, but these people obviously do. I wouldn’t dare defy their beliefs. I know how the system works. So now the question is, will my job be dangerous?
I interrupt the doctor and ask him about my role in this experiment. I would be assigned as a ‘Chrononaut’, he says. The term sounds ludicrous, as if taken from one of those sci-fi novels he so fondly mentioned. I try not to smirk as he says it. Instead I rephrase what he said — I would be a time traveller. The doctor nods and falls dead silent for the first time in our meeting.
I do not understand why I was eligible for the project, so I ask. He answers that, besides having a special blood type that is believed to be critical to the experiment’s success, I also have an excellent training as a cosmonaut. In essence, it sounds like I’m a well-bred guinea pig.
I continue extracting information about my specific tasks and responsibilities. He explains that it’d be very similar to that of a cosmonaut. I need to be in top physical condition, get acquainted with the equipment, study the technical specifications and above all, maintain a strong mental health. He also explains that, if the experiment were to be successful, I’d also need to quickly adapt when appearing in a different time in history. He is unaware of the specific time I’d travel to — which makes me feel uneasy. The more he talks, the more evident it becomes that they have no idea what they are playing with — but for some strange reason, I am aroused by the uncertainty.
He points out that my German and Russian are native, which allows me to fit in whenever I happen to arrive — in the past or future. However, this brings up the issue of running into dangerous situations, as we do not know who will be waiting for me on the other side. This, of course, is assuming that the travels will keep me within the Berlin metropolitan area. All these stipulations are based on vague evidence they found in old, crumpled, damp papers.
He complains that the project is dangerously underfunded.
Sounds like an uncoordinated mess.
It’s too late to back out now. I take a moment to digest everything we’ve talked about. I can feel him staring at me, worried about what I may be thinking right now.
After a minute of pure silence, he can’t help but ask me if I am still interested. To my own surprise, I compliantly nod my head. I ask him what the primary objective is.
He says they have a strong suspicion that the Nazis did get to send a human through time. There are numerous mentions of someone under the codename “The Bear”. We must find whether they were successful, and if so, track him down.
He adds that they have yet another disadvantage. In order to travel to a particular date, a custom code must be used. They call this code a “seed”. However, unlike the original German scientists, we have not fully cracked the codification system. Plus, the original creators rigorously destroyed all existing documentation. However, Dr. Vodnik has been successful at partially recreating some seeds. He explains that it’s been easier to decipher seeds of years that are rounded to the nearest decade. He points out the current year, 1960 as an example. Other seeds seem to be too complex to reverse engineer.
He gets up from his seat and puts his hand on my shoulder, inviting me to follow him.
I am transferred to a medical room where a woman waits for me. She’s the one I met on the very first day. For some strange reason, it seems like she’s trying to avoid me at all times. The very few times she makes direct eye contact her eyes wiggle around my face, as if I were a map and she was trying to find directions. I get the feeling that she sees something in my eyes that not even I am aware of.
She takes a blood sample carefully. I hate needles. She stares at the blood, as if she were able to see its particularities with the naked eye. I look at my own blood. Looks normal. Then again, a lot of unordinary things look normal at first sight.
We go through a few other physical tests. At no point do I get any hint of whether I am ticking the right boxes or not. She analytically takes notes on her wooden clipboard after every result, no matter how small it is.
We share no words except for the aseptic pre-scripted series of standardized questions and answers. I wish I could ask her more, but I fear she might repulse any amiable sign of warmth. Strangely, I feel an uncontrollable attraction by her presence. It may be her slick hair, or the way she holds everything with nothing more than her fingertips, making everything seem featherweight. Maybe it’s her hush voice and precise pronunciation.