Part 11 (1/2)

Steinmann was a vegetarian, and he had brought his own personal chef up from Stuttgart, so the cuisine had been simply excellent. There was no shortage of fine wine here, either. Life in wartime was luxurious for some. Although the Doctor hadn't been allowed to leave the townhouse, he had to admit that he had been well catered for. Ulrilda had been a.s.signed to him; she had provided food and drink on request, and had answered his simple questions. She had even managed to procure the latest issues of all the major German scientific journals, although he hadn't learnt much from them.

She was a pleasant companion, although chess seemed a little beyond her grasp.

Now Steinmann had joined them in the first-floor room that had become the Doctor's study. It had a good view, a packed bookcase, even a gramophone. There was a limited selection of music, all composed by Germans. The Doctor had selected a Beethoven symphony. The music drifted across the room to where the Doctor stared out across the harbour. Ulrilda smiled at him when she knew Steinmann wasn't looking, and the Doctor gurned back at her. Ulrilda stifled a laugh.

The German officer sipped from his coffee cup. 'This is very civilized, isn't it, Herr Doktor?'

'On a microcosmic level, yes.' A column of tanks wound their way across the seafront.

'Again, you have a cosmic view. Just like the n.a.z.is, my friend.' Steinmann paused before speaking again. 'Doktor, you tell me that you know what Hartung is building.' The Doctor opened his mouth to speak, but quickly shut it again.

'Would you like to meet him?'

The Doctor kept his expression neutral. 'Yes. I'd love to see how close he has got.'

'Close? My dear Doktor, both have been built already.

What do you know of jet propulsion?'

'Enough to fill a series of books on the subject,' the Doctor said matter of factly.

'Is that why you came?' Steinmann had finished his coffee. Ulrilda hurried to refill his cup.

'Not specifically.'

'But you have seen the plans?'

'Which plans?' The Doctor was puzzled. Ulrilda had moved over to the Doctor and poured him a fresh coffee.

Now she began adding sugar.

Doktor, there is no need to pretend, you are among friends here. Three weeks ago, the SID managed to a acquire a set of plans.' Steinmann gestured around magnanimously, almost knocking his mug over.

'I knew nothing of this.' The Doctor thanked Ulrilda, who returned to her seat by the window.

'No? Doktor, I am prepared to concede that the plans are almost complete. It might not be enough for the British to build a whole engine for themselves, but they will know what Hartung has built. That, of course, is why we let them have the plans.'

'I still have no idea what you are talking about.'

Steinmann's face fell. 'You mean that, don't you?'

'I do,' the Doctor admitted, furrowing his brow.

'The SID sent you over here, but didn't tell you, an expert in the field, about the plans they had. It must be the single biggest coup in the history of espionage.'

'I never said that I worked for the British. I certainly didn't mention the Scientific Intelligence Division.'

'Oh, Doktor, if you know what the initials stand for, then you must be working for them.' Steinmann fixed him with those piercing eyes of his.

'An interesting theory, if a little simplistic. For one thing, you you know what the initials stand for. Logically, that means that you work for the British.' know what the initials stand for. Logically, that means that you work for the British.'

Steinmann laughed. 'Ha! I sometimes wonder whether I do, you know. I feel an affinity with good old Arthur Kendrick.

We have so much in common, we have the same concerns, are experts in the same fields. We are doing the same job, we face the same problems, we just happen to be on different sides. You are a scientist. You must feel some camaraderie with the scientific community in Germany.'

'I think that the German scientists should have made a moral stand. Under the n.a.z.is, science has been perverted.'

'Really? You don't believe that science is objective?'

'Of course not. Science is a tool, a way of modelling the universe. What a scientist chooses to model reflects his or her concerns.' The Doctor was losing track of where this conversation was heading.

Steinmann sipped at his coffee before answering. So you agree that the scientist himself is part of the object which he investigates? Science is part of culture, not a universal truth?'

'Yes, of course. So much scientific research on this planet is directed to building new weapons. You Germans are obsessed with chemistry because you lack raw materials and you want to create artificial oil and fabrics. The Americans do just the opposite and concentrate on ma.s.s production.'

'Doktor, that is what Max Planck, the director of the Kaiser Wilhelm Society says. The British and Americans mocked him for doing so. Once again, you agree with us.

Doktor, I want you to see the true state of German science. If you have not been allowed to see the stolen plans, then you are obviously not valued by the British government. The Reich, though, welcomes men of talent, and is happy to reward them. Tomorrow morning, we'll go up to where Hartung is working. You'll have a chance to meet him. The British won't show you the plan. We'll show you the finished product. You'll be free to make up your own mind.'

'You have a knack for ending the day on a dramatic note,' observed the Doctor. 'Yesterday you asked me to become a Fascist, now you seem to be offering me a job on your design team.'

'Fascism is about the opportunity that tomorrow will -'

'And of course, I get a daily dose of Fascist dogma,' the Doctor added.

Steinmann was silenced, but after a moment he continued, 'Doktor, I have a proposal for you.'

'Another bombsh.e.l.l! I'm flattered by the offer of marriage, Herr Steinmann, you are a very handsome man, with undoubted prospects, but I'm afraid that I'm already -' the Doctor wittered. Steinmann cut him dead.

'Herr Doktor. I am being serious. My proposal is this: I will show you the future, show you what Hartung has built. I will let that speak for itself. Actions speak so much louder than words. As I believe you observed on the beach, Hartung's work will win the war for the Reich. I offer you the chance to be part of that future. If you do not want to, you will be free to go. Do you accept?'

'As Goethe might have said, Herr Steinmann, we have a deal.'

'Do you know what the simplest, most effective form of torture is, Nurse Kitzel?'

Standartenfuhrer Wolff was peering through a slot in the cell door. He was tall, broad-chested, blond: one of the few in the army who looked like the soldiers on the recruiting posters. At thirty-two, he was still unmarried. His eligibility was a frequent topic of conversation for the girls at the complex. They thought he must be very brave and dedicated to have reached such an exalted rank so young. Either that, or he knew someone high in the Party. Either reason made him a good potential husband.

Kitzel, surprised that such a senior officer would deign to talk to her, tried to remember her training.