[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
.‘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 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 Nazis, 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 mass 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 bombshell! 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?’Standartenführer 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.‘Electric shock,’ she declared finally.Wolff sneered, and didn’t even turn to look at her.‘The very simplest torture is electric shock?’‘No, sir.’ Kitzel deflated.Pause.‘The Chinese say that it is dripping water, sir.’‘Yes, but as they are subhumans, their opinion is not valuable.You don’t know the answer, do you?’‘No, sir,’ she admitted.‘The very simplest form of torture is sleep deprivation.’It came flooding back.‘Prolonged sleep deprivation, or, to be precise, “dream deprivation” can quickly lead to personality changes: typically heightened irritability or paranoia.After three or four days the subject might well begin to hallucinate.This decline is characterized by a loss of all sense of time.After a week there is the risk of permanent mental illness, usually schizophrenia.The longest a person has been deprived of sleep, without the use of stimulants such as amphetamines, is sixteen days.’ Kitzel fluttered her eyelids.‘Very good.’ Wolff smiled.‘Now to see all that in practice.Our subject has been in custody since twenty past six yesterday morning.Just about thirty-six hours ago.Since that time, she has been deprived of food, drink and sleep.If your calculations are correct, then the prisoner should be beginning to show the first symptoms.Her name is Bernice Summerfield, but you are not to use it in front of her.If I do give you permission to speak, she is to be referred to simply as “the prisoner”.Bring that beaker and that bag.’Without waiting for an answer, Wolff unbolted the door and ushered Kitzel inside.A woman, a long-legged brunette in her mid-thirties, sat in the corner.The skin around her eyes was grey-rimmed, as though it had been bruised.The eyes themselves were brown, but dull.‘Stand.’The prisoner shuffled to her feet.She was wearing a dress with a floral pattern and was barefoot.She swayed slightly as she stood.‘Water.’ Kitzel handed Wolff the beaker.He took a sip, all the time watching the prisoner’s reaction.‘Lovely,’ he said, presumably an English word, Kitzel didn’t speak much English.Finally, he handed the prisoner the water, which she drank eagerly.‘Where am I?’ the prisoner asked, when she had finished.‘In a prison cell.Nurse Rosa Kitzel, may I introduce the prisoner?’‘Delighted to make your acquaintance,’ the prisoner said weakly in German, but with a trace of sarcasm.What occupied Kitzel’s attention more was the fact that Wolff knew her Christian name.‘Undress.’‘Yeah, right.Look, I know this psychological stuff is meant to make me feel inferior, less secure, et cetera.In a culture with a nudity taboo, like yours, it probably works all the time, reinforcing both your male authority and the female prisoner’s self-image as victim.Textbook stuff, well done for remembering your training and all that, but it won’t work on me.’ She had unbuttoned her dress, and now she stepped out of it.‘See? Perfectly relaxed about the whole sans frock deal.To be honest, it’s having the opposite effect to the one intended: I’m just wondering whether you’d feel secure enough in your.masculinity.to do all this to a male prisoner [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]