Necrocide Read online

  NECROCIDE

  by

  Jonathan Davison

  Copyright 2012 by Jonathan Davison

  All Rights Reserved

  The characters depicted in these stories are wholly fictional and any resemblances to those living or dead are purely coincidental.

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  Cover photo - Matej Toman

  www.matejtoman.com

  About The Author

  Jonathan Davison was born near Portsmouth, England in 1975. He lives with his wife Mandi in Newton Abbot, Devon. Jonathan began writing in earnest in 2010. He is also a musician and writer of radio drama and musical theatre. He currently works as a technical specialist for the police.

  Authors Note and Dedication

  Necrocide is based upon a short story written in 2003 called 'The Experiment'. Initially a radio dramatisation, the story has seen a number of forms but now will be seen in its full glory as a novel.

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  I would like to dedicate this story to the men, women and children who died during the Second World War no matter with whose side their loyalties lay, and I hope that we have learned a valuable lesson from history and do not make the same mistakes again.

  Previous novels by Jonathan Davison

  The Observer (2010) Wartime intrigue meets paranormal suspense and science fiction in a tale about a humble soldier with a galactic destiny. Set in World War II, it is a story about one man with the unwitting power to change everything.

  Sanctuary (2011) Crime drama and mystery meets outrageous science fiction in this story of faith, hope, destiny and redemption.

  In Space No One Can Hear You Rock! (2011) A futuristic, adult comedy about a virtuotic musician attempting to find fame in a stale and homogenised society. Will he be able to save the planet, get the girl, rekindle the halcyon days of Rock n Roll and take the galactic tour before his own ego eats him alive?

  Dark Phase (2011) A compelling and atmospheric science fiction story of a Silicon based life form as he explores his past, present and future whilst attempting to understand his own evolution as a sentient being. He is the only one who can bring about order to the chaos. A poignant tale of self discovery.

  The Prometheus Effect (2012) Two men seek to discover the truth behind a global event which will usher in a terrifying new world order. An ambitious and suspenseful science fiction thriller for those who look to the future with cynical eyes.

  Annatrice of Cayborne (2012) First in the Protathaian Chronicles series. When Annatrice of Cayborne's father is murdered by a tyrannical King, the peasant child is taken as a trophy by her father's slayer. Her unusual qualities are quickly noted and she soon finds that she has the power to command her own destiny.

  Emissary (2012) When Dr Trehearn Culver is awoken from cryogenic stasis only to find the rest of his colleagues have mysteriously died, he becomes the sole survivor aboard the 'Emissary', a vast star ship on a mission to colonise a far off planet. Battling his solitude and compelled to somehow carry on his mission to appease his only companion, Adraste, the ship's 'thinking computer', Trehearn travels down a road of scientific research and ethically questionable experimentation. Believing himself to be the only hope of rekindling his species, Trehearn's genial aptitude and tireless efforts look to have achieved the impossible, but then even the best laid plans can be doomed for failure.

  CHAPTER ONE

  ANTARCTICA

  JULY 1943

  The tide of the War had turned. Hans Bauer tightened his grip upon the icicle covered and gently vibrating hand rail which was the last barrier between himself and the dark green and turbulent ocean. Adjusting his feet to compensate for the rolling nature of the large and robust ice-breaker, he struggled to remain upright. Another billowing wave hoisted the vast crimson bulk of the 'Spirit of Antarctica' into the air and duly released her with a frothing splash, bringing a taste of salty spray to the lips of her crew.

  “So it has come to this?”

  Hans looked over to his right where the familiar voice was the only way of identifying his similarly dressed colleague as Claudio Cortese, an Italian engineer and a guest aboard the exclusively German vessel spoke. The thick folds of robust material which covered his form from head to foot was the only suitable attire for those who braved the morning air and even then, those that did dare breathe of it were quickly pained by its sharp and unrelenting frigidity.

  “Indeed. It seems that the Russian intervention has brought about a new sense of pessimism at the Reich Chancellery.”

  Hans Bauer replied in gentle tones, he was always the most considered of speakers. His azure blue eyes were the only visible part of his form and Cortese craned his neck to catch a glimpse of them as his associate answered his question.

  “Desperation. That is what I call it.” Cortese added. The genial olive skinned Italian knew all about that subject. His country was in turmoil and near defeat. His people struggled to recognise where their loyalties lay and Cortese felt his German hosts' reservations at his ongoing presence on the expedition.

  “The Fuhrer strongly believes that all avenues are explored. I, for one understand his sentiments. Warfare has many forms, my friend.” Bauer stated boldly. Cortese nodded in agreement. It had been demonstrated in the Great War how blindly following convention and spuriously abusing manpower was a fruitless operation. If there was a way to end the fighting and demonstrate superiority, even the most painstaking efforts were not in vain.

  A sudden juddering motion caused by the bow of the ship striking and splicing the ice field threw the two men off balance and they helped each other recover their footing. Cortese brushed himself down and regarded the well stowed containers which were home to several tonnes of drilling equipment and other scientific instruments. His eye was caught by the packed and dismantled shell of a helicopter which was tied to the deck. The very thought of flying in it left a nasty taste in the Italians mouth.

  “They say it is safe, have you ever...?”

  Hans understood immediately what Cortese meant. It was something a little new and not to everyone's taste.

  “Yes. Yes, I have. If you can stomach the noise, it is a comfortable ride. Better to land on a sheet of ice in that contraption than a modified Junkers.”

  Cortese reconsidered his reluctance to travel in the helicopter. He had no wish to be walking for miles across the frozen wastelands nor as a helpless passenger aboard an aircraft not fit for purpose.

  “I hope you like ice; we could be here for months or even years. It is estimated that the glacier could be a mile or more in depth.” Cortese was always rather self deprecating regarding his skill as an engineer but in this case he was a realist. This was an expedition of extraordinary tenuousness. Even if the sub-glacial terrain could be reached, the chances were slim that analysis could bring anything useful to light. Hans turned to his companion and leaned his arm nonchalantly across the railing.

  “I tell you something my friend, after serving in Africa, the ice is most welcoming. Would you prefer to taste the fresh clean snow of Antarctica or the blood tinged frost of the Russian front?” Hans smiled as he adjusted his hood so that his stubbly blonde chin was reveal momentarily. Cortese nodded. It had not occurred to him that as a soldier, Hans might have tired of the bloodshed.

  “This place has a peace. I enjoy it. It is ferocious yet in this solitude, I see a different perspective on the war that is raging across the other side of the world.”

  Cortese furrowed his brow.

  “These are not the words of a Nazi.” The Italian spoke quietly despite no others in the vicinity.

  “Whoever said I was a Nazi?” Hans asked rhetorically. Cortese found him difficult to read. If Bauer was not a trusted individual, how had he been placed with a prominent role in such a secretive expediti
on? A moment of silence became prolonged as Cortese mulled over something to say to continue the conversation but perhaps it was better not to, he thought.

  “If you want my truthful opinion, as far as I am concerned, Claudio this mission is an expensive waste of time and resources. As a German soldier whose brothers are being slaughtered across Eastern Europe, I struggle to see the reasoning behind red herrings such as this. As a simple man who longs to see the end to conflict, I must work with all my might to work towards that goal. If by some miracle of science, digging a hole into a mile of ice yields some kind of Doomsday biological weapon, poisonous gas or man-eating species of fish, I must pursue this to its logical end.”

  Cortese felt as if he had pinched a raw nerve but was somewhat clearer to the German officer's rationale.

  “Not just any hole though is it?” Cortese added feeling that his German friend might be underselling the science aspect.

  “If the terrain beneath the glacier is indeed ten thousand years old then it will be untouched by the poisonous hand of the human race. The waters that flow beneath will be pure, untarnished by centuries of pollution.”

  Hans interrupted, not wishing to be blinded by the fact that they were there for a specific reason.

  “And of course those same waters might carry bacteria and viruses not yet experienced by man. If captured and utilised...”

  Cortese knew the next part.

  “Must the end of a war always be drawn to a close with a massacre?” The petite Italian questioned.

  “Of course, to win a war one must dominate, no matter how distasteful the preceding events. To bring peace, often many must die.”

  “And would you show no regret for being part of that massacre?” Cortese asked knowing these questions were hypothetical in the extreme. Bauer paused for a moment as another jolt nearly took them both off their feet.

  “I think...that thinking is not good for your health. Better to leave that to someone else.” Hans smiled and slapped Cortese across the back. Cortese watched the enigmatic German saunter off across the deck and disappear behind the bulkhead. On reflection, perhaps being here was not so bad after all even if it was a long way from the searing sun and glistening waters of his home on the Adriatic coast.

  Walking steadily to the forecastle of the ship using the handrail at all times, Cortese peered out through his fur-lined hood and across the shining white desert before him. The squeaking, crumbling ice giving way to the brutish horsepower of the ships engines could be heard above everything. He was a long way from home but there were challenges ahead, enough to keep him busy for quite some time.

  *

  Hans Bauer ducked as he made his way through the narrow confines of the ship, stepping over the lip of a number of evenly spaced pressure doors. He stooped to ease his significant frame through. The ship was not designed to be friendly to the larger man and that fact was reinforced by his compact cabin which was no more than a narrow bed and a rudimentary sink. Struggling to be free of the thick outer clothes, he revealed a woollen navy blue jumper and heavy cotton trousers. A small pin badge was the only reminder to both himself and any others that he was a Colonel in the Wehrmacht, a fighting man, a professional soldier long before the advent of war.

  Hans looked into the small round mirror mounted above the sink bowl and he smoothed his face which was scarred by fire and clearly in need of grooming. He stooped low to examine his face, his introspection clear. This was a man that was troubled despite his most emphatically unflappable exterior. He was a man who sought a place in the world, a direction. His moderate age of forty two years had been consumed by conflict and few that had lived through the Great War had the stomach to relive those times again. Hans Bauer had no photograph pinned above his bed of loved ones left behind or lost; he held no reminder of the world he had left behind. Now there was only the icy expanse to aid the clarity his thoughts. The coming months would give him a purpose, Hans had not yet decided however, if it was a purpose he wished to fulfil.

  CHAPTER 2

  Hans Bauer leaned back on his chair, his boots planted firmly upon his desk. The wireless tooted out a tune of imperial pompousness. The office was dark, damp and noisy. The southern wind battered the outer shell of the temporary building and the corrugated plates buckled under its continuing influence.

  Hans closed his eyes and imagined himself somewhere far away, somewhere warm where the winds were but a cooling breeze and gulls shrieked above in a dark blue sky. The reality was that Hans was utterly bored. Whilst his team of engineers toiled outside, he felt rather surplus to requirements. His presence on the expedition was merely bureaucratic. He felt almost guilty that he had little to offer his team other than a reassuring arm around the shoulder and a chilling reminder that the Fatherland's hopes lay in their hands. Nothing could be farther from the truth of course. As the weeks had passed, he had become more detached both geographically and emotionally to the ongoing fight. Instilling patriotic fervour into tired and demotivated engineers was not so easy when the belief had long since waned in himself.

  Hans Bauer had, from the very start lobbied to avoid this role when it appeared to become a reality. Far from wanting to run from the intensifying conflict, he had been prodded and cajoled into taking the responsibility of the mission by a long standing comrade and respected senior, General Klaus Dietrich. Not only did Dietrich respect his junior with whom he had taken under his wing since the early war years, but he also felt compelled to do right by him since the cataclysmic event which had changed Bauer's life forever; the death of his wife and child.

  Hans rubbed his face and particularly his eyes which were heavy. The large corrugated panels flexing gave off a noise that could not be dulled. It was like the sound like thunder or the explosion of a bomb in the distance, sudden and booming. It was one of the sounds of war that Hans had heard many times before but now it had taken a greater significance in his complex psyche. It had become the sound he associated with the loss of his loved ones, the sound of falling munitions across a darkened city.

  Hans' thoughts were thankfully disturbed by the rattle of the outer door and instinctively he whipped his feet off his desk as someone approached. Not that it mattered, Bauer was the commander of this complement of thirty three men and a little envy from his subordinates would hurt no one.

  A gentle, timid knock was heard at the office door and Hans coughed and spluttered a nonsensical beckon to enter as he shuffled a few papers around his rather empty desk. A sharp drop in temperature accompanied a stocky figure clad in dark padding and a ubiquitous fur lined hood.

  “Sounds windy out there.” Hans muttered as he thought he recognised Claudio by his diminutive stature.

  “It is!” Cortese replied as he pulled back his hood to reveal a cropped jet black hairstyle and a set of thick dark eyebrows. Cortese, being Italian seemed to have a far more relaxed demeanour around his commanding officer although he would not demonstrate it before others in the team. Hans enjoyed Cortese's relaxed attitude and honesty.

  “We have encountered a problem.” Claudio spoke cautiously, his eyebrows dancing about significantly.

  “Problem?” Hans replied. “A problem that you have to come to me for? Can I assume it is nothing technological then?”

  Hans' status amongst the team of engineers and scientists was clear. He was not there to add anything to the mission except his mandate to lead. He was to be the glue that held the mission together and keep a sense of urgency for the war effort.

  “Something unexpected has transpired.” Cortese added as he pulled his gloves from his hands with a fumbling inaccuracy.

  “Well, that sounds rather exciting in my book. There is very little of that around here. Do tell me we are under attack by a savage pack of Polar Bear, at least I could offer my sharp shooting skills.”

  Cortese laughed at Bauer's ignorance.

  “You would have to be an exceptional shot to bag a Polar Bear from here. No, it is actually far more exciting than that C
olonel.”

  Hans turned the corners of his mouth down and rose to his feet, hoisting himself up by the creaking arms of his chair.

  “Oh? Don't keep me in suspense man.” Hans urged Cortese to reveal all.

  “Well, it would seem that we have encountered a significant resistance to the drill.”

  Hans was no engineer but he was aware that this was far too early.

  “How far down are we?” The Colonel asked with his brow furrowed.

  “Fifty metres give or take one or two metres.” The Italian's face contorted into a little moue, it was almost as if he was trying to contain his excitement but was also a trifle nervous.

  “That is too soon is it not? I suppose we should be rejoicing. I expected this torment to last month's not weeks.” Hans did little to hide his contempt for his mission.

  “Sir, please do not get ahead of things. We do not believe we have reached beneath the glacier, it is way too soon for that.” Cortese had become frustratingly cryptic.

  “So what have we hit?” Hans remembered Cortese telling him they had met some 'resistance'. The plot was thickening.

  “We cannot say for sure except that on first inspection and on drill retraction, it is something very hard as it has destroyed our primary bit.”

  “But we have more don't we?” Hans immediately began to worry about the implications of losing their ability to drill and thus ending the mission. Failure meant standing before the Fuhrer and explaining his shortcomings. The thought of that clouded his immediate fascination for what might be a revelation.

  “Of course we have a number of packages but to continue drilling in the same place would be fruitless.”

  Hans shuddered.

  “Really? Then the past month has been wasted? Must we relocate?”

  Cortese shook his head, his commander had not realised the significance of the find.