Part 4 (1/2)

'I agree,' said Major Butcher. He stepped over and joined them, smiling. Ace wondered what the h.e.l.l the man was doing, suddenly being so friendly. But Butcher seemed sincere as he joined Ray in staring with contempt at Fuchs and the record player. 'That music ought to be banned.'24.

'That's right,' crooned Ray. 'Banned, baby, banned.'

'It shouldn't be played in here of all places. It's the music of the master race.

It's. .h.i.tler's favourite composer.'

'Actually,' said a familiar voice, 'Hitler's favourite composer was Franz Lehar.'

Ace looked up to see that the Doctor had also joined them. He smiled and tipped his hat at Kitty before turning to address Butcher again. 'Lehar is a composer of light operettas. Musical meringues, so to speak. Much more to the Fuhrer's taste than the highly spiced meats of Wagner. I believe Hitler's absolute favourite among Lehar's works was The Merry Widow The Merry Widow.'

'You seem to know a h.e.l.l of a lot about it,' said Butcher truculently, staring at the Doctor.

'Oh, I'm sure that's because he was a personal friend of the Fuhrer's,' said Kitty. 'They probably got together and had nut cutlets while listening to The The Merry Widow Merry Widow.' Butcher snorted with disgust and moved off. Kitty turned and smiled at the Doctor. 'Dr Smith, I believe. We haven't been properly introduced. A pleasure to meet a man who knows about music here on this barren rock.'

'Even if it's the music of the enemy?' said the Doctor, amus.e.m.e.nt dancing in his eyes.

'Well you never said you liked liked it, did you?' Kitty turned to Ace. 'So how did you two meet?' Before Ace could phrase an answer any one of a dozen facile lies and semi-truths that she had been forced to develop over the years they were interrupted by a gargantuan moan from Ray. The big drunken man was twitching, his face contorted with despair. it, did you?' Kitty turned to Ace. 'So how did you two meet?' Before Ace could phrase an answer any one of a dozen facile lies and semi-truths that she had been forced to develop over the years they were interrupted by a gargantuan moan from Ray. The big drunken man was twitching, his face contorted with despair.

'I just can't listen to this stuff any more,' he said, nodding at the record player from which the Wagner was still pouring. He turned abruptly away and lurched towards the door, people stumbling out of his path.

'Well that got rid of him,' said Ace. 'So I guess that rubbish is good for something.'

The Doctor smiled. 'I feel somebody ought to put the case for Wagner here.

I think the Liebestod is some of the most beautiful music ever written.'

'Oh G.o.d. Don't you start,' murmured Ace.

'So do I,' said Kitty Oppenheimer.

'However,' said the Doctor. 'I also recognise it's not the only only music.' music.'

Kitty smiled at him. 'So do I. Now would you excuse me? I think my husband is gesturing to me desperately.' Across the room Oppenheimer was indeed beckoning to her, and Kitty strolled over to join him, leaving the Doctor and Ace alone together for the first time since they had arrived at the party.

'So are you enjoying yourself, Ace?'

'Well, I like her. Kitty Oppenheimer. She's been nice to me.'

'Have you had the chance to make the acquaintance of anyone else?'25.

'Just that big drunk.'

'I'm afraid, given the state of the guests at this party, you need to be a little more specific.'

'That big bloke with the beret. Looks Chinese or Korean or something.'

'j.a.panese.'

'j.a.panese?'

'Yes. Ray Morita, a third-generation j.a.panese-American physicist of some considerable genius, who appears to be in the process of destroying himself with alcohol.'

'He certainly does. But listen Doctor, if he's j.a.panese I mean half j.a.panese or whatever shouldn't they have him locked up?'

The Doctor nodded grimly. 'Indeed, that is the government's current policy.

So perhaps it's not surprising he's drinking himself to death when you consider his entire family loyal Americans all have indeed been locked up in a detainment camp for the duration of the war.' He paused for a moment and gave Ace a curious look.

'What is it?' she said.

The Doctor smiled. 'Why Ace, you'd already heard about that, hadn't you?'

'Sure.'

'But how did you know about America's dubious policy of internment for its citizens of j.a.panese descent during World War Two?'

'There was a movie.'

'Ah, I see, excellent.'

'It had Dennis Quaid in it.'

'Good, good. Well in any case you're quite correct in a.s.suming that normally Ray would be behind bars. But because of his special abilities in science he is needed here. In short, he is allowed his freedom because he is helping Uncle Sam.'

Major Butcher, who had returned to the room, drifted close to them just in time to hear Ace say, 'Who the h.e.l.l is Uncle Sam?'

Before Butcher had a chance to consider Ace's anachronistic remark, there was the sound of angry voices from outside. Butcher immediately moved to the nearest open window of the house. Outside, on the lawn, Oppenheimer was standing talking to another man. Both men were gesticulating, hands waving and elbows jerking, their voices rising in growing fiery. It looked as if they might come to blows at any moment. Butcher recognised the man with Oppenheimer, and he just smiled and turned away from the window. He didn't notice who took his place as soon as he vacated it. Ace, with the Doctor at her side.26.

Ace peered out the window. The voices of the men arguing had grown so loud that they were clearly audible in the house, even above Wagner and the roar of party conversation. Yet all the party guests seemed oblivious to the quarrel blazing so close at hand. And they didn't seem to just be politely ignoring it, either. They seemed genuinely uninterested. Ace turned to the open window, listening and trying to catch the thread of the argument outside.

The words hydrogen and atmosphere kept coming up.

The man quarrelling with Oppenheimer was heavy set, with dark wavy hair.

He had a face dominated by thick black eyebrows, with a big nose, big ears and fat cheeks, all of which seemed strangely at odds with his narrow, tapering chin. Like Oppenheimer, his face was flushed with drink and rage.

'Who is that?' she said.

The Doctor smiled thinly. His eyes were cold. 'Edward Teller.'

'Don't tell me, let me guess. He's a physicist.'

The Doctor looked at Ace and his smile grew wider, his eyes less cold. 'Yes, one of many who escaped here to America fleeing from the rise of the n.a.z.is in Europe. You do know who the n.a.z.is are?'

'Sure, they're the guys that Indiana Jones hates.' Ace smiled. She felt drunkenly witty and loquacious. 'I'm just kidding. Of course I know about World War Two and the n.a.z.is. And the j.a.panese. Did I ever tell you about that movie they showed us in school about dropping the atom bomb on j.a.pan?'

'Yes,' said the Doctor impatiently. 'The takings at the local kebab shop dropped for a year.'

'OK, so I told you the story. Maybe I repeat myself sometimes. Bad Ace.'