A Day in the Life: Nonaggression

Dear Readers,

Augury suggests that this week, the 1939 Germany-USSR nonaggression pact is in your news again. World War II is one of those points in history which seriously fragmented a lot of time streams. When millions of people can die, it creates a lot of uncertainty in how events unfold from that specific point.

Many, many writers consider worlds where one decision path was not followed and the war utterly changed. It's interesting, because sometimes these writers get certain time streams right, sometimes they do not. That's what happens in the absence of Augury technology.

Still, scenarios where the Nazis win or other strange circumstances occur have been done to death. Instead, I want to focus on a different scenario, one that not a lot of people think about: What if the war had never started at all? For today's Day in the Life, I decided to profile a time stream where the USSR-Germany nonaggression pact never occurred, and a very different outcome arose.

So here it is, as usual: my weekly fictional "slice of life" from a very real time stream.

Always,

Dr. John Skylar
Chairman
Department of Anachronism
University of Constantinople

The morning paper skidded to a halt on Jim's astroturf welcome mat right as he opened the door to receive it. General Firestone's kid, Billy, on time as ever, waved as he passed by to continue his paper route. Jim looked at the date: November 24th, 1969. Then he scanned the headlines. No war today, at least. Lately, the Reich took to more saber-rattling than usual, and the entirety of Edwards AFB was on alert. Most of the world went on alert when Goebbels felt aggressive.

Jim sighed and went back inside with the paper. He smelled Linda cooking breakfast, and he would need it.

"Honey, what's in the news?" his wife asked. She kept her eyes on the frying pan, though. She never let eggs overcook at all.

"Not much, thank God. Goebbels is still making noise, though. I'm sure we'll have our work cut out for us today."

"Yeah, I guess that missile test last week has you working hard."

Jim grinned, "I wouldn't know anything about that, sweetie." She knew when he could not tell her about his work, but still probed anyway. The V-26 test the previous week did have the brass worried, though. If there were a warhead aboard, then the North Pole might be a memory.

Sometimes he cursed Einstein for what he did in 1941. Jim was only 10 at the time, but he remembered how his father threw the paper across the room, screaming,"Bastards! It'll be just like 1939 all over again!"

At the time, the outburst frightened Jim, but now when he thought back on it, Dad had good reason to yell. The Soviets managed to stop Hitler in 1939 with their solid line of iron across the border, but in the two years that followed, everyone expected war to start eventually, and in 1941, it looked like it might.

And then Einstein, Oppenheimer, and Fermi did it. Somehow, they sat down at negotiation tables in secret with all seven major powers. Italy and Germany agreed to release all of their surviving Jews and gypsies into his custody. Russia, Britain, and the US said they would give him land in Palestine for them to live on. Japan and Italy would provide their navies to move these refugees. And all for one thing: Atomics.

Now Jim lived in a world of shadows. Every day, he heard new things from the Axis powers on their advances. Everyone heard about them. The scientists, led by a pacifist, created the greatest stalemate in history. And Major James Lovell had to police that stalemate, along with everyone under him at the base. He sighed again.

Linda hummed while she transferred the eggs to their plates, with bacon and toast ready to meet them. She smiled as she put it in front of him. At least his wife looked beautiful today, if nothing else did.

They ate for a while in silence, but Jim knew that would not last. Linda knew how to time conversation during a meal. At breakfast especially, she brought up things of serious import, to let him think it over during the day.

Right when only a few bites remained on his plate, she said, "Jim, honey, I didn't feel so great this morning."

Jim could not be sure where she would take this, so he raised an eyebrow, "Oh? Do you want to see Dr. Perkins?"

"Maybe. I don't think he can give me anything, though."

"Well, it's worth-" Jim cut himself off as he figured it out, "Wait, you think you're pregnant?" Jim agreed to try, but so far, in the chaotic world, he felt pretty happy after five years of no luck. Especially after his reluctance ruined his first marriage.

"Well, I can't be sure, sweetie. But it's three weeks now. I'll see the doctor today." Linda glowed.

Jim tried not to scowl, "Well, that's...that could be wonderful, honey. I'm eager to know what he says." Eager like a man about to brush a grizzly bear's teeth. "It'll be nice news to share at Christmas. I have to get to work, though. Call me if you hear anything."

He rushed out the door, and into his day. Work distracted him, for hours, from the idea that they might bring an innocent little thing into a terrible, big place. He worked until 5, but in the winter, that meant he had to drive home in the dark. No call from Linda. Jim wondered what that could mean during the whole walk back from his office.

When he got to the doorstep, Jim found the door unlocked, and the house dark. He wandered inside. It smelled like dinner, but when he flipped the lights on, he saw nothing out on the table.

"Linda?" he called for her, a little worried.

"Out here!" she answered from their back concrete "terrace."

Jim felt relieved, and wandered out to her. He saw her, stretched out on one of their lounge chairs, looking up at the moon in the cool desert sky. Next to her chair sat his, and between them, on a table, he saw two plates with steak and potatoes. And two wine glasses.

"What're you doing out here?"

"Looking at the moon, silly. Isn't it beautiful tonight?"

He looked up. Aside from the hateful dark spots, he liked it just fine. "Sure, I suppose."

"Think we'll ever get there?"

"I dunno, Linda. Maybe? Sure hope we do, though. I've been sick of that goddamn swastika Hilter's boys burned into it ever since 1963."