“Was he ever jealous of the other young men—the way you felt about them?”

“Oh. It was still very physical for me then. But he had already moved past that part of it. No. No, I don’t think he minded… . I loved him then. I could not see into him, or the things he believed in, but I wanted to. If the Rocket was his life, then I would belong to the Rocket.”

“And you never doubted him? He certainly hadn’t the most ordered personality—”

“Listen—I don’t know how to say this… have you ever been a Christian?”

“Well… at one time.”

“Did you ever, in the street, see a man that you knew, in the instant, must be Jesus Christ—not hoped he was, or caught some resemblance—but knew. The Deliverer, returned and walking among the people, just the way the old stories promised… as you approached you grew more and more certain—you could see nothing at all to contradict that first amazement… you drew near and passed, terrified that he would speak to you… your eyes grappled… it was confirmed. And most terrible of all, he knew. He saw into your soul: all your make-believe ceased to matter… .”

“Then… what’s happened, since your first days in Europe, could be described, in Max Weber’s phrase, almost as a ‘routinization of charisma.’”

“Outase,” sez Enzian, which is one of many Herero words for shit, in this case a large, newly laid cow turd.

Andreas Orukambe sits in front of an army-green, wrinkle-finished transmitter/receiver rig, off in a rock alcove of the room. A pair of rubber headphones covers his ears. The Schwarzkommando use the 50 cm band—the one the Rocket’s Hawaii II guidance operated on. Who but rocket-maniacs would listen in at 53 cm? Schwarzkommando can be sure, at least, that they’re being monitored by every competitor in the Zone. Transmissions from the Erdschweinhöhle begin around 0300 and run till dawn. Other Schwarzkommando stations broadcast on their own schedules. Traffic is in Herero, with a German loan-word now and then (which is too bad, since these are usually technical words, and valuable clues for whoever’s listening).

Andreas is on the second dog watch, now, copying mostly, answering when he has to. Keying any transmitter is an invitation to instant paranoia. There springs into being an antenna pattern, thousands of square kilometers full of enemies out in their own night encampments in the Zone, faceless, monitoring. Though they are in contact with one another—the Schwarzkommando try to listen in to as much as they can—though there can be no illusion about their plans for the Schwarzkommando, still they are holding off, waiting for the optimum time to move in and destroy without a trace… . Enzian believes they will wait for the first African rocket to be fully assembled and ready for firing: it will look better if they move against a real threat, real hardware. Meantime Enzian tries to keep security tight. Here at the home base it’s no problem: penetration by less than a regiment would be impossible. But farther out in the Zone, rocket-towns like Celle, Enschede, Hachenburg—they can pick us off out there one by one, first a campaign of attrition, then a coordinated raid… leaving then only this metropolis, under siege, to strangle… .