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"I didn't summon them from the depths of h.e.l.l to fight the Russians, mein Fuhrer," said Himmler. "They are here to ward off the attacks of the turncoat sorcerer Einstein."
"Don't mention that name to my face!" yelled Hitler.
"I apologize, mein Fuhrer," said Himmler quickly.
Hitler swiveled his chair until he was facing out a window, with his back to Himmler. "Now you can talk about him, Reichsfuhrer."
"Yes, sir. Word has reached us from our spies in the White House that Einstein is about to unleash Mrs. Roosevelt upon us ... and you know the success the President has had unleashing her on his other enemies."
"You were quite right to call them forth, Reichsfuhrer," said Hitler. "Where will they meet her in battle?"
"We have no idea where she is at the moment," answered Himmler. "So I have concluded that the best course of action is to b.o.o.by-trap Gestapo headquarters and wait for her there, since sooner or later she and Einstein"-Hitler whimpered at the mention of the name-"will come to Berlin and seek my Aryan supermen out."
"Maybe you should leave ten or twelve of them right here to protect me," suggested Hitler.
"They don't want you, sir."
"I beg your pardon!" screamed Hitler, spinning around in his chair to face Himmler.
"It's personal, sir," said Himmler.
"Explain!"
"I found an error in his Special Theory of Relativity and presented it in a speech to the Sorcerers' Society, right after their annual softball game."
"The greatest sorcerers in the world play softball?" asked Hitler, surprised.
"Well, usually the ball turns into a screeching Canadian goose on its way to the plate, and the bases grow legs and run off to Bismark, North Dakota, and-"
"I get the picture," interrupted the Fuhrer. "Continue."
"Anyway, I proved that D does not equal MC squared, and he has never forgiven me for that," said Himmler. "He and Mrs. Roosevelt are after me, sir, and they know they'll have to fight their way through my supermen to reach me."
"Have these superman all been trained in the use of the latest modern weapons?"
"They don't need them," answered Himmler. "They are masters of fisticuffs, wrestling, karate, kung fu, penjak, and the off-putting snide remark. Furthermore, they a.s.sure me they are invulnerable, that no bullet can pierce their proud Aryan skin."
"You don't say," said Hitler.
"I just did say, mein Fuhrer."
"Maybe we should put it to the test. I haven't shot anyone since breakfast."
"I thought I saw them carrying the bullet-riddled body of the Postmaster General out of here while I was waiting to see you, sir," said Himmler.
"He was only five feet three inches tall," said Hitler with a shrug. "He hardly counts."
"All right, mein Fuhrer," said Himmler, clicking his heels together and snapping off a salute. "I'll bring them all to your office."
"Just a minute," said Hitler.
"Sir?"
"What are their names, so I will know how to address them?"
"There are twelve Heinrichs and an Adolf, sir."
"But no Einsteins?"
"No, sir."
"All right," said Hitler, opening his drawer and pulling out a tommygun. "Leave the Adolf behind. I certainly wouldn't want to hurt him."
"They are all invulnerable," Himmler a.s.sured him.
"We shall see."
"I'll have them here in ten minutes, mein Fuhrer."
"You're sure there are no Einsteins?"
"I'm sure."
"All right. Let's see if anything can pierce their proud Aryan skins."
And seven hundred and twenty-two bullets later he still didn't know what could pierce their skins, but he was d.a.m.ned sure he knew what couldn't.
The plane landed at a small airport about forty miles outside of London.
"This is as far as I go," announced Leonardo. "The Germans control everything between here and Berlin."
"Are you going to let a little thing like a few thousand anti-aircraft guns and fighter planes stop you when this scantily clad damsel is willing to face them armed with only a sword?" demanded Einstein.
"What the h.e.l.l," said Leonardo. "When you put it that way...."
"Good!" said Einstein. "Refuel the plane and we'll be on our way. Big El and I will grab some dinner while you're standing out here in the pouring rain keeping a watchful eye on things."
He escorted Eleanor inside. They found a small snack shop, and soon were seated at a table.
"Everyone's staring," she noted.
"Probably seeing a half-naked warrior princess eating with a world-famous n.o.bel Prize winner isn't an everyday occurrence."
"So how are we going to get to Himmler's headquarters?" asked Eleanor.
"The direct approach is probably best," answered Einstein.
"The direct approach?"
He nodded. "When we get to downtown Berlin, I'll ask a cabbie."
"You think of everything, Little Al," she said admiringly. "How much trouble do we expect on the way in?"
"Well, I had hoped that Himmler was so anxious to have his horrendous horde meet you in personal combat that he would have ordered everyone to give us safe pa.s.sage until we got there," said Einstein. "But if I'm wrong, then you may have to single-handedly conquer the German 4th, 6th, and 7th armored divisions-and that's if we make it over France without being shot down."
"Boy, those n.a.z.is are everywhere!" said Eleanor grimly.
"Actually, I was thinking of the French," answered Einstein. "De Gaulle has never forgiven me for beating him at chess."
Eleanor studied the menu, then signaled the lone waitress.
"What'll it be, ma'am?" asked the girl.
"I'll have a hot fudge sundae, a piece of New York cheesecake, a chocolate eclair, and a slice of apple pie a la mode, heavy on the whipped cream."
"Will you want anything to drink, ma'am? Tea, perhaps?"
"A chocolate malt."
Einstein ordered coffee, the waitress went off to the kitchen, and he stared curiously at Eleanor, who had a radiant smile on her face.
"I may keep this magical outfit forever, Little Al!" she enthused. "Twenty-three thousand calories, and I won't gain an ounce!"
"Not only that," said Einstein, "but you'll have all the energy you'll need for the battles that lay ahead of us. Well, of you."
"I feel sharp," she said. "Himmler's going to rue the day that he called these super Aryans up from h.e.l.l."
"I'm starting to rue the day I called you up from h.e.l.l!" growled Himmler as he faced his thirteen super Aryans.
"What did we do wrong this time?" asked Adolf.
"I don't mind that you can't march in formation. I don't mind that Heinrich Number 8 has a prostate problem and has to keep running to the john. I don't even mind that none of you has washed in all the time you've been here." He glared at them. "But I mind like all h.e.l.l that n.o.body remembers to duck their heads or even use a door when they enter or leave a room. You're slowly but surely destroying the d.a.m.ned building. You!" he yelled, pointing at Heinrich Number 3. "Get that wistful smile off your face."
"But you mentioned home," protested Number 3.
"What the h.e.l.l are you talking about?" demanded Himmler.
"There!" exclaimed Number 3. "You did it again!"
"Oh, shut up!" growled Himmler. "Just go down to the bas.e.m.e.nt and try not to get into trouble. I'll call you when it's time to slaughter Mrs. Roosevelt."
"But it's dark and foreboding down there," whined Number 9. "And there are lurking shadows."
"So what?" said Himmler. "You guys are invulnerable."
"That doesn't make it less scary," said Number 5 petulantly.
"You can't be hurt," repeated Himmler. "That means nothing should scare you."
"Lots of things scare us," answered Adolf.
"Right," agreed Number 4. "Personally, I'm terrified of high cholesterol levels."
"And I'm afraid of tax auditors," added Number 7.
"Aggressive redheads named Thelma make me want to run for the hills," said Number 10. Suddenly he burst out crying.
"What's the matter with him?" asked Himmler.
"There aren't any hills in h.e.l.l," explained Adolf.
"I've heard enough of this," exploded Himmler. "You are the ideals of German manhood, perfect in every way, at least from the neck down." Number 8 raised his hand to speak. "Except for Number 8's prostate," amended Himmler. "You are about to carry the hopes and dreams of the Third Reich into battle against the most formidable warrior and the most dangerous sorcerer that America has to offer. There can be no fears, no doubts, nothing but the absolute certainty that Aryans cannot ever lose."
"Uh ... this warrior woman," said Number 1. "How big is she?"
"Not big enough!" roared Himmler. "You are the ideals of the Master Race. You are twice the size of normal men. You are invulnerable. You cannot feel pain, or fear, or fatigue. You represent everything that is fine and n.o.ble and worth keeping on this mongrel-filled planet. Now, let me hear it! Are you ready to triumph over the greatest warrior the Allies can provide?"
He wasn't sure, but he thought he counted seven yes's, five no's, and a maybe.
"There's Paris, coming up on your left," announced Leonardo as the plane banked to afford them a better view. "Last chance to stretch your legs and see the Folies Bergere."
"Why would I want to see the Folies Bergere?" asked Eleanor.
"I was thinking of Little Al," said Leonardo. "We used to have to drag him out of there almost every night during the last war."
"I found the atmosphere conducive to conjuring," said Einstein defensively.
"Usually he'd conjure up a spell and the prettiest girls would throw themselves at him."
"It was all for G.o.d and country," said Einstein. "Well, maybe excluding G.o.d. Besides, once I perfected it, it brought Mata Hari out of hiding and straight to me."
"With only one hundred and forty-three romantic pit stops along the way," said Leonardo.
"Maybe we should show you the Louvre," said Einstein, turning to Eleanor and changing the subject.
"Do they have any Norman Rockwells?" she asked.
Einstein shook his head. "Just da Vinci and Reubens and Michelangelo and that whole crowd."
"Foreigners all," she sniffed. She tapped Leonardo on the shoulder. "Just land. I'll kill a n.a.z.i or two, make sure everything is in working order, and then we'll proceed to Berlin."
As they reached the outskirts of Paris, they began picking up anti-aircraft fire.
"That was a close one," said Leonardo as a sh.e.l.l exploded just to the left of the plane. "Hey, Little Al, are you sure you want to land here?"
"Don't interrupt!" said Einstein. His eyes were closed, and his hands were making mystical signs in the air. "The acceleration of a body is directly proportional to the net unbalanced force and inversely proportional to the body's ma.s.s, a relationship is established between Force (F), Ma.s.s (m) and acceleration (a)."
"What is he doing?" asked Leonardo.