of absolutely nowhere, in fact, that thing in the hangar. That
Flügelrad
materializes in the air about twenty feet in front of me and crashes right down onto the ground. I nearly shat myself, I can tell you. And I ran. I won’t say I didn’t. You’d have run. I ran for a bit and then I thought,
Roswell
. Alien autopsies. Video rights. What would a dead alien be worth? You’d have thought the same.”
Russell shook his head.
“No, you wouldn’t have thought the same. But I thought it, so I crept back and hid and watched. And after a while the hatch opens and the ladder comes down and then out they come. Not aliens, like I was expecting, but Nazi soldiers. SS blokes, all the uniforms and everything, and they climb down and look around. Looking really baffled. And then there’s all this shouting in German, like ranting. And I thought, I’ve heard that voice and then –”
“Adolf Hitler got out,” said Russell.
“Adolf Hitler got - What do you mean? How did you know
that
?”
“A lucky guess?”
“Hm. Well, it
was
him, Russell. It really was. Looking exactly the same as he did in the pictures.”
“I believe you,” said Russell. “I
really
do.”
“Blimey,” said Bobby Boy. “Well, it
was
him. And he gets out and climbs down the ladder and shouts at these SS blokes and they shrug and continue to look baffled. And one goes back in and gets a map or something. And they study this and then they all march off. And I watch them go and when they’re well away into the distance, I creep over and have a shifty inside. Wait until you see it. It’s all old radio valves and dials and turncocks and levers. So I’m inside and I’m wondering what to do. It seems as if this thing’s crash landed and I think, well, should I pull out a few bits so it can’t be mended and phone the newspapers and do a deal? I mean, well, this has to be news, doesn’t it? So I’m tinkering about, wondering which bit to remove when I twiddle this dial and the next thing that happens is the ladder retracts, the hatch snaps shut and the whole thing shakes like crazy. And once again I have to hold onto my guts.”
Russell had finished his second stolen Scotch and he rattled his glass on the desk top. Bobby Boy poured another small measure into it.
“So I’m thinking, Get out before the frigging thing blows up. But then the rattling stops, the hatch opens again and the ladder goes down. So I rush out. And this is where it gets weird.”
“Oh,
this
is where it gets weird.”
“This is where it gets
really
weird. You see, it isn’t night any more. Only a few minutes have passed inside the
Flügelrad
but outside it’s daytime. And it isn’t the
next
daytime either. Oh no. When I take a look outside, everything’s different. The
Flügelrad
–”
“Why do you keep calling it that?”
“Because that’s what it is. I found the instruction manual and notes and stuff. I got a German dictionary from the library.”
“They don’t let you take out dictionaries, they’re in the reference section.”
“I nicked one, all right? But I managed to do a translation. But that’s later on, let me tell you what happened next. I get out and I’m not on the allotment any more. Well, I am. I am where the allotment used to be. Now it’s a park. A nice park and all around it are these smart new houses. But they’re futuristic houses. I’m in the future, Russell.”
Russell made the face that says,
Yeah, right!
without actually saying it.
“OK, I didn’t know it
then
. The Flügelrad has landed in amongst a load of bushes and it’s pretty well hidden. I’m standing up on the dome looking around, so I figure that as I’m here, wherever I am, I might as well have a look round. So I get out and take a walk. I cross the park and I go out into the street. And the first thing I see is The Bricklayer’s Arms. It’s hardly changed. Except for the name on it, now it’s called The Flying Swan, and the road isn’t the Ealing Road
Sarah J. Maas
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