Death's Head Legion: The Spear of Destiny: Part Two of Three

by Trey Garrison

  The gorillion sneezed, spraying Übel directly in the face with green phlegm. The doctor removed his glasses to wipe them on his pocket square. Otto tried his level best, but he couldn’t help that a small giggle escaped. He squelched it when he saw the angry look that flashed across the doctor’s face. Then Übel smiled.

  “It’s okay, Otto,” he reassured the frightened lab assistant. “It’s a big man who can laugh at himself.”

  Otto let out a sigh. He had to stifle another laugh; the doctor was only five feet two inches tall.

  A black-uniformed SS junior officer rushed into the laboratory. He gave a stiff-arm salute and the obligatory “Sieg heil!”

  “Dr. Übel! Reichsführer Himmler requests your presence in the General’s Hall!” the young aide shouted. Übel had observed the aides all had a penchant for shouting.

  “Ach—Project Gefallener, I should expect. They have, no doubt, approved my request to proceed in readying the fifth phase test. Excellent,” Dr. Übel said. “Officer, I will need you to stay and help get Jurg back to his cage.”

  “Jawohl!” the junior officer shouted.

  Otto looked at Dr. Übel quizzically.

  Übel signed to the gorillion, Jurg, break the Thin Man’s arms.

  Just before he closed the door behind him and Otto began screaming, Dr. Übel said over his shoulder, “I am not a big man, Otto.”

  General’s Hall, North Tower

  Wewelsburg Castle

  As always, Reinhard Heydrich was at Himmler’s side. He was so well trained, some joked quietly, Heydrich didn’t even need a leash anymore. Those who didn’t joke quietly, of course, tended to disappear.

  Ironically, Heydrich welcomed underestimation. The man was brilliant beyond words; brilliant enough to know that even his young age was a handicap despite the fact he was twice the strategist, organizer, and Nazi that his master was. He could afford to bide his time, waiting in the shadows of the New Order to serve as its master for the next generation.

  The regular members of the Black Sun sat at their positions, including Josef “Sepp” Deitrich, commandant of the Waffen-SS. Deitrich was one of the few actual military veterans among the many seated here, even though all wore resplendent military or paramilitary uniforms. He had more than a little contempt for those who wore a uniform now, when they hadn’t during the war. Before the meeting began he was grousing rather loudly about the lack of cooperation between the industrial sector and his Waffen-SS.

  Deitrich was a singular soldier and leader. In the Great War he had served as one of the first mechanized crawler and panzer commanders, where he’d lead a steam and diesel powered force of the first generation of land ships that broke through the British trenches at the Somme. After the war, he joined the freikorps militia, having had few other prospects in the economic depression that beset Germany. In 1920, after an ordinary bout of political street violence, he’d decided to switch sides and join the nascent National Socialist party. He was attracted to its promises of a revitalized, remilitarized Germany. With time, he eventually became an adherent to the Thule Society doctrines, and his embrace of its Aryan mysticism gave important credibility to the society in veteran military circles.

  But that’s not why he was an important leader in the New Order. He was a true believer in the whole doctrine: Aryan racial destiny, systematic socialism tempered by strict nationalism, and the brotherhood of blood loyalty. He believed in the blood and in the equal sharing of sacrifice and reward of all within the Reich—social justice for all Aryans who served the collective whole.

  Deitrich initially served the National Socialist German Worker’s Party as Hitler’s chauffeur, but he soon proved his worth as a military man, Aryan scholar, and political strategist. Now, five years after the Nazi takeover, he was one of the two men who had created a whole new branch of the armed services for Germany—the elite Waffen-SS. It easily outnumbered the old German Army—the Heer—and was second to none in dedication to the New Order doctrine. Recruits were physically perfect and could prove their pure Aryan bloodline back over two hundred years. They were fanatically loyal to the Führer first, and to the SS second. They were the storm troopers of the New Order—it was the sound of their boots that would accompany the spread of National Socialism all over the world.

  Deitrich’s second in command, Major Hoffstetter, was likewise a Great War veteran, but as a clerk who served in a supply company. Hoffstetter and Heydrich were the architects of the eisensatzgruppen liquidation squads operating in the Russian Dead Zone to the east and the Damned Lands to the west. These were the regions where the sheer amount of slaughter, poison gases, firebombing, and dark energies released by the Great War had destroyed all life, except the broken and twisted things that nature never intended and that madmen dreamt of in nightmares. The Otherness that spilled out bore the monsters that now roamed the barrens to the east and west of Germany. More disturbing, it was speculated that the doorway might still lie open, and the life-hating Otherness was still coming into this world.

  The einsatzgruppen units were tasked with cleansing the landscape of the mutations and untermensch—sub-humans—in those decaying fields. It was a useless endeavor. But the squads had first brought back the samples of creatures and artifacts that were the genesis of Project Gefallener. Since they couldn’t clean up the hell unleashed on their borders, the Germans were damned well going to use it to their advantage. To that end they brought in scientists, alchemists, necromancers, transgenicists, and degreed madmen of all types to harness everything from the dark energies that emanated and radiated from the zones to the mutations that now lived there. Under Dr. Übel’s leadership, they sought to weaponize the evil they found—in whatever form they could. A whole unit of older SS men, the Death’s Head Legion—those deemed secretly more expendable, as they were past their physical prime and had already fathered children for the Reich—were brought in to serve as everything from test subjects to cannon fodder.

  Though he’d never fought in a single battle, Hoffstetter was a uniquely cruel man not afraid to lead these cleansing operations against unarmed civilians. It was rumored he enjoyed hunting the few people and many things that roamed the Dead Zone. For him killing was sport—so long as the quarry couldn’t shoot back.

  While note taking was not allowed in the General’s Hall, it was necessary that certain details might by necessity be taken down. Or conversely, a member might need exhibits to present to other members. Thus each member of the Black Sun had one junior SS officer as an aide-de-camp. They would not take notes but rather be responsible for remembering any detailed data necessary for a member. These junior officers were taken from among the top percentage of graduates from the SS officer’s academy at Wewelsburg—and screened repeatedly for the highest security clearance.

  Deitrich’s aide-de-camp, Untersturmführer Hans Bonhoeffer, just nineteen and a volunteer from Breslau who came up in the Hitler Youth, provided Hoffstetter and Deitrich various charts and updates. He was a favorite of Deitrich’s. The young, dark-haired officer was a virtual boy wonder—infallibly efficient at staff work as well as a highly competitive athlete and soldier in the field despite his shorter stature.

  Colonel Uhrwerk sat motionless, as always, listening to the discussion while his cold, calculating intellect analyzed probabilities, tactics, statistics, strategies, and new data. That Uhrwerk neither subscribed to nor had faith in the mystical elements of Dr. Übel’s work or the Thule propositions was irrelevant—he had seen evidence of the dark supernatural entities into which the doctor had tapped.

  “We have a viable sample of the GR-68 source compound,” Himmler said.

  “Herr Reichsführer,” Übel said, “what we have is not a sample of the GR-68 source, but rather a catalyzed sample drawn after cellular mutation and degeneration, introduced in suboptimal conditions for our desired outcome.”

  Even Heydrich wasn’t following exactly. Uhrwerk took the lead, first adjusting the speech modulator in his metal mask.


  “Doctor, explain the complexity first and how it relates to your requirements,” he said.

  Dr. Übel wiped his forehead with his pocket square.

  “The process of the introduction of GR-68 is a five axis variable. It involves chemical, biological, radiological, alchemical, and paranormal processes. With the addition of each point of the axis, complexity increases by geometric progression.

  “For example, take the most basic sixteenth century infantry musket,” he continued. “It was essentially a crude metal pipe stuffed with gunpowder and shot. It was a chemical device with the most primitive of mechanical aspects—almost a singular axis. Thus it was simple with base efficiency. Compare it to a modern bolt-action rifle—a true chemical/mechanical tool, much more complex than a first generation musket and requiring precision machine parts and exacting chemical formula. The rifle is far more efficient and offers a greater rate of fire and accuracy.

  “The Maxim water-cooled machine gun of the Great War, in turn, is a chemical/mechanical/hydraulic device—many orders more complex than a bolt action rifle, far more complex to create and maintain, and far more efficient and effective. Likewise, the dragon-belcher is a simple chemical pressure device, while in turn the Grupps steam-railgun combines chemical, mechanical, alchemical, steam, magnetic, hydraulic, and other elements and is of several higher orders of complexity.”

  Himmler nodded. He failed to see where this was going, but then the Reichsführer was a man who gave as much credence to astrology as astronomy, and more to phrenology than psychology.

  It fell on Heydrich to draw more from Dr. Übel.

  The doctor was prepared for this. Several months before he’d provided the General’s Hall projectionist the proper overhead slides and film footage for this exact contingency. The inner circle of the Black Sun understood the broad concepts but not the details. Only a few had been fully briefed on the scale and depth of Project Gefallener.

  “The primitive introduction of the GR-68 compound to the human system results in an equally primitive reaction and product,” Dr. Übel said as a screen dropped behind him. “This infection of a subject through direct contact with blood and other body fluids takes a significant amount of exposure to the bloodstream for effective transmission—far more than most blood-borne viruses. Left to itself, when successful this is the natural transmission of a most unnatural compound. This is the result,” he concluded as black-and-white footage from various experiments began to roll on the screen.

  A series of title cards explained that the first group was an early number of GR-68 test subjects, labeled GR-68 Zeds. Political prisoners injected with blood from the infected Ahnenerbe agent, they had returned from the Balkan expedition after being cut by a fragment of the Spear of Destiny.

  There was a flash, and the camera showed the inside of a glass-enclosed cell. The GR-68 Zeds shambled mindlessly about the enclosure. It showed “food” being dropped into the enclosure—live lab animals—and the Zed creatures all instantly attacking the small animals, grabbing and eating them alive. A member of Dr. Übel’s staff poked at one of the Zed creatures with a sharpened metal pole through a small window as it ate. At first the technician poked gently enough, and was ignored as the Zed stood eating a still twitching rabbit. Then, with a heave, the technician drove the spear through the Zed creature’s leg, and was still ignored. The scene was repeated with electric cattle prods, pistol fire, and other attempts to cause a reaction.

  The screen went blank for a moment and another scene began in a different lab setting. A bound GR-68 Zed creature was bound to a lab table as a seated technician took a tissue sample. As the technician turned his back to smear the sample on a slide, the Zed loosened its bonds. The camera jolted, indicating that the cameraman was trying to warn the technician. But it happened too fast. The creature bit into the man’s shoulder. The technician jumped away, the look of terror on his face far worse than the simple pain of a bite would warrant. A guard stepped into the frame then and shot the Zed in the head. It ceased movement. The camera operator started to lower the camera, then realized he had to keep rolling. He focused in on the bitten technician. The man still looked terrified. He held up his hands at something off camera. The camera swung around and caught the guard, who with no hesitation or ceremony raised his pistol and shot the technician in the head. The guard then turned toward the cameraman, whose arms were visible as he appeared to reassure the guard he had not been bitten.

  “The GR-68 Zed is virtually indestructible,” Dr. Übel said, “but possesses minimal dexterity and intelligence, and is driven solely by base feeding instincts. Something about the infection and acute ambulatory necrotic atavism drives the subjects to consume that which they no longer are or possess—living tissue.”

  Deitrich wondered where the cold draft he felt originated.

  “Base necrosis and decay follows, with life span for the GR-68 Zed subject ranging from two months to a year, depending on environmental conditions and other variables. Notably, those infected while living last significantly longer than those infected postmortem. This GR-68 Zed creature is remarkably similar to those found to exist in Haitian and West African lore. We theorize a common source. These creatures are, however, nothing like what was once documented in Eastern Europe and the Middle East in the past millennia, the draugrs—the bodies of dead Viking warriors—and the ghuls of the Arabian desert sands. But they share too many characteristics not to have some commonality of origin.”

  The screen showed a time lapse of primary infection, to the asymptomatic stage where the victim looked to be suffering a minor bout of flu, to the symptomatic stage, and to the final stage where the test subjects had the foggy eyes, sunken cheeks, and waxen appearance of walking cadavers.

  “From introduction to final stage in a living subject, full infection takes about ten hours. It’s significantly less for postmortem infections. We don’t know why. Final stage subjects manifest few bodily functions and no internal function. They do not even digest that which they eat—they eat endlessly, until their stomachs or bowels literally burst. Only their motor functions seem to be active, and likewise, massive trauma to the brain is the only thing that can stop them. What drives them? We still don’t know,” the doctor said.

  Another clip of laboratory film footage graphically showed the results of overfeeding a GR-68 Zed. Himmler’s usual pallor shaded green. Even the veteran Deitrich was put off.

  “This most base category may be a useful product under certain circumstances,” Dr. Übel went on. “Its rapid reproduction rate in a target locale would be ideal if we could program into its genome some sort of fail-safe—a preset decay rate or half-life, for instance. Subsequently, a few could be air-dropped into targeted population centers where they would spread their compound to the native population, which would then cease functioning after the half-life is reached. Otherwise, our Difference Engines project an exponential growth rate of the epidemic in short order.”

  Himmler saw great possibilities for this. He liked the idea of delivering the GR-68 Zeds to high-population centers in places like the Freehold, the Confederate States, and Australia, where there would at least be a continent’s distance between the Fatherland and these sorts of outbreaks.

  “Of course, there would be great hazards associated with such a project—ideally we would undertake such operations only on geographically isolated areas, to prevent uncontrolled spread of the infection. And we may only wish to use this strategy where the GR-68 Zeds would be preferable to the existing population,” Dr. Übel said with a laugh.

  “Yes, yes, of course. Isolated,” Himmler said, rubbing at his thin mustache.

  “The GR-68 Zed is the most base category that can be produced, Herr Reichsführer,” the doctor explained. “There are several intermediate levels of higher complexity and varying degrees of contagion possible with the GR-68 compound. We can make them stronger, smarter, and more teachable. More than just mindless feeders, each higher category has its own strengths and
weaknesses—varying degrees of dexterity, reasoning, contagion levels, sensitivity to certain conditions such as ultraviolet light, cold, and so on—but we could achieve our end goal of a true, thinking, fighting soldier that can’t be hurt, that feels no weakness or compassion, and that follows the orders of the Black Sun exclusively.”

  Himmler was curious on a practical level.

  “What would the pinnacle of complexity be in this context?” he asked. “What kind of creature are you really talking about?”

  “The highest degree, theoretically, would be that which was attributed to the Nosferatu,” the doctor said. “Of course, that degree of independent thought and motive would be self-defeating. Competitive, in fact. It would not want to serve—it would seek to rule.”

  There were nods all around the table. Dr. Übel removed his thick glasses and polished them on his coat. The man seemed to have no eyes, Heydrich thought.

  “What have you done with the creatures from these laboratory films?” Heydrich asked.

  “Currently all of the test subject GR-68 Zeds have been destroyed. They pose too great a threat of outbreak even isolated in the most secure cells of Deep Hold 13, and there is the issue of their shelf life,” the doctor said. “However, we do retain the means to produce more at will.”

  Himmler drank from his teacup. All discussion ceased.

  “Zehr gut,” he said. “There may be use for such a program. But these dirty, mindless feeders are not the goal of Project Gefallener.”

  The doctor nodded. “Of course, sir. The goal of Project Gefallener has always been the genesis of true draugrkommandos—the creation of unswervingly loyal, virtually impervious soldiers with a high degree of adaptability, dexterity, and possessing true problem-solving skills, reason, and arrested necrotic dissolution through internal desiccation or artificial preservation. The fallen heroes of the Reich rising up, so to speak.”

  Himmler now nodded. “So why can’t we use the compound we have?”