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The autopilot of the R-15 bleeped, indicating that he had reached his destination, Albany, New York.

I hope, he thought, that Fritz Sacher has come up with proof of his contention. If so, I will reward him. The reward, carefully wrapped in cloth, lay in the rear compartment of the ship: a great bottle containing a uniquely deformed fetus, the product of medical experiments carried out by Dr. Seyss-Inquart. The father had been a Slav, the mother a Negress. The fetus, worked on by Seyss-Inquart's staff during its development in the womb, had a foot where its head should have been and eyes at the end of its feet. Only this one existed, and it had been part of the Reichsmarshal's collection of more than a hundred genetic sports. It was in fact the best. But pleasing Fritz Sacher came before the pride of collecting, at least if the research scientist's claims could be believed.

An armed patrol with dogs kept watch along the perimeter of Sacher's New York estate, but it was through secrecy that the operation protected itself. Luftwaffe funds supported it; hence his knowledge. The Abwehr, Naval Counterintelligence, supplied men and so Admiral Canaris knew, too. He was not therefore surprised when, upon climbing from the R-15, he found both Sacher and Canaris waiting for him.

Puffing with the exertion of descending the rungs of his ship, Goring said, "I brought you a Wunderkind, Herr Sacher." He eyed Admiral Canaris, whom he did not like. "Nothing for you."

"Der Dicke [the Fat One] emulates the Japanese," Canaris said to no one in particular. "The giving of gifts. Ceremony." He examined his watch. "I'd like to get started." He started from the field, into the building that had once been a governor's mansion in the prewar days when America had governed itself.

"Try and guess the deformity of this," Goring said, reaching up to grasp the bulky, cloth-wrapped bottle.

"Who knows you're here, Reichsmarshal?" Sacher asked. "Anyone in the SS? We're especially concerned about the SS."

"Only my own people," Goring answered as he lifted down the bottle and held it out to the young scientist Sacher. "This one is novel; it will give you quite a lift."

Accepting the bottle, Sacher said, "Many thanks, Reichsmarshal. Your collection of enormities is well known. I remember as a schoolchild touring your villa near Brenner and seeing..." He had by now unwrapped the bottle. "A cephalopedalis. Well. How nice." He stared fixedly at the fetus floating gradually to the bottom of the bottle. "Must be worth at least a thousand Reichsmarks at home; even more here. I have as yet created no real collection myself; only a few -- "

"Can we get started?" Admiral Canaris called sharply.

They entered the building. Goring and Canaris followed the white-robed research scientist down a hallway and into a large room that, the Reichsmarshal guessed, had once been a dining room. The two men sat at a table with papers and objects before them, neither of them particularly distinguished-looking; they both seemed ill-at-ease, and when they made out the Reichsmarshal they rose awkwardly in respect.

"These are the surviving members of the twelve-man Kommando group originally sent through our nexus," Sacher said. "That is now eighteen months ago that we first became aware of the parallel universe, which we then called die Nebenwelt, because it borders this, and is beside it constantly, plus being available by means of a weak spot, such as exists here. Such we have known the entire eighteen months. Now we can present accurate specifics relating to this Nebenwelt, and it is for this presentation, Herr Reichsmarshal, that Admiral Canaris and yourself have been asked to meet with me here. I introduce Herr Kohler and Herr Seligsohn to you; they will speak briefly on their encounter."

"I am Kohler," the shorter of the two men explained. Beside him his companion self-consciously reseated himself. In a squeaky, untrained voice Kohler continued, "We with others of our Kommando unit who survived the crossing from here to that world but who did not also survive the crossing back, as we did, lived ordinary lives in the Nebenwelt for virtually a year and a half, speaking the English language with facility, it being the language of this geographical area in that universe. We found it to be a reasonably satisfactory milieu, but overrun with Jews. We inquired, via the public library and through accidental contacts, as to why that would be, and also why English and not German dominates as the spoken and written language. As we had anticipated before our crossing -- as Herr Sacher originally theorized -- the Nebenwelt constitutes an alternate Earth to ours in which the Rome-Berlin-Tokyo Axis mishandled the war and allowed the Allied Nations of Communism and Plutocracy a victory by default. Because of this, America remains a number one Jew State, and the Bolsheviks control half the world, the other half; they have divided the world between them, as Dr. Goebbels predicted in event of an Axis defeat."

There was silence, then. No one spoke as the Reichsmarshal and Admiral Canaris pondered.

"Did you manage," Canaris asked presently, "to make out specifically why their war miscarried?"

Irritably, Goring said, "What does that matter? Technical details; for academic scholars." To Sacher he said, "Your Nebenwelt is a hallucination, a phantasm. It isn't real, not like this." He rapped his knuckles noisily against a nearby case filled with scientific texts.

Kohler said, "We brought back artifactual documentation."

"Faked," Goring said bitingly.

"It is up to me to determine that," Admiral Canaris pointed out. He walked to the table, bent to scrutinize the assembled papers and objects. "Why do you reject this idea ad hoc, Reichsmarshal?" He glanced inquiringly at Goring. "Is it that you can't conceive of this? As Herr Kohler says, we've known of it -- at least theoretically -- for a year and a half. You've had a long time to digest the idea, and now we have material brought back by men who've been living there. I find it intriguing." He picked up a massive book from the desk, thumbed through it intently. "But, of course, disturbing." He eyed Kohler, who remained doggedly on his feet, unwilling to back down. "We have here something called The Rise and Fall of the Third Reich, by William Shirer." Glancing at Kohler, he said, "I gather this will answer as to the 'technical details.' " His voice was withering.

"The period up to 1945," Kohler agreed, nodding. "I have read it several times; it is complete, absolutely the best I could find there. At several bookstores in New York I asked and was told this volume is totally comprehensive; it is certainly not one I selected at random." His voice rang with conviction. "And it certainly is not faked."

Sacher said, "While waiting for you, Admiral, and you, Reichsmarshal, to arrive here" -- he took the book from Canaris, opened to a marked place -- "I personally examined this. Let me read you."

"Just tell us," Canaris said.

"Their history," Sacher said, "apparently diverged from ours in the early thirties. President Roosevelt was not successfully assassinated and was in office in 1941 when America entered the war against the Axis."

"Bricker never became president?" Canaris said alertly.

"No, Herr Admiral." Sacher shook his head.

"In prosecuting the war," Kohler said, "Field Marshal Rommel failed to take Cairo and therefore never managed to link up with the German army coming down from Russia. Nor did the German army break the Russian lines; at a town called Stalingrad on the Volga the Communist hordes counterattacked and destroyed our entire Sixth Army corps."

Beside him Herr Seligsohn murmured, "And" -- he did not look directly at Goring -- "the Luftwaffe concentrated on bombing civilian population centers in Britain and did not put out of action their radar network. So, consequently, no invasion of the British Isles took place."