Good People (23 page)

Weller's assistant offered a lame joke about the connection between Slavs and chimpanzees, and searched the others for a wrinkle of laughter in the corners of their eyes. His face seemed to cry out: Maybe you'll like me after all?

Weller peeled the crust from his cake and heaped a spoonful of cheese into his mouth. Bauer swallowed his Bienenstich, with its topping of honey and almonds. No one laughed.

Thomas wished the young man would shut up. He disliked him and delayed his answer to focus attention on his shame. He wanted to reprimand Weller but in a friendly way: Of course, my good man, but you don't really expect me to pull an answer out of my sleeve. That would be a frivolous response to such a complex subject.

He was no stranger to meetings like this, where people tried to obtain information without offering anything in return. In such cases, the best strategy was to inundate the listener with information, make him understand its fascination but also its extraordinary intricacy, which only experts can fathom.

‘The research department that I headed,' he began, ‘synthesised various fields, such as, for example, the connection between the historical-mythological memory of the Jagiellonian dynasty and the vast influence of the Polish-Lithuanian union on the Pole's system of beliefs and the depth of his identification with the Constitution—I refer to that of 1791—which was, of course, the first one in Europe, not to mention the constant cultural flow from France to Poland, beginning with the historical enthusiasm for Jacobin ideas, the translation of literature, the adoption of academic methods of study, and extending to popular magazines with a French fragrance, so beloved of the women of Poland. These are small examples,' he warned. ‘The subject, as I said, is immensely complex.'

Thomas was not satisfied with his answer. It wasn't fluent enough, and he hadn't managed to embroider its detail into an overarching story. He was like a rusty spring. For months he had talked only with Clarissa.

The young man scraped snakes of dry cream off his lips, and Bauer, making a show of turning away from him, accused Thomas of obfuscation: Milton set up departments of the national, not the racial, soul, he said, and employed all sorts of psychological theories. Thomas dismissed his words while removing the powdered sugar from his apple strudel with his fork. He avoided Bauer's transparent eyes, which were a kind of lure for reflection. Weller gave him an astonished look: How come you're just playing with your strudel? Where's your appetite?

Abashed, Thomas plunged his fork into a piece and brought it to his mouth. The taste of the sweetened apples repulsed him, but he swallowed and sipped from his drink. Weller was thinking of offering him work, and most likely all the men at the table knew that he was unemployed. The term sickened him so much that he didn't dare say
it even to himself. His endless hours of idleness had taught him that the day's nightmares were more horrifying than the night's. They horrify you with their simplicity.

Bauer had probably been invited to the meeting because, having worked with Milton, he would know whether Thomas had truthfully described his role in the company. Aside from that, he couldn't stand Thomas and would make every effort to come between him and Weller. For most of his life Thomas had ignored types like Bauer. It was beneath his dignity to devote time to nuisances who didn't understand either irony or good ideas, in fact didn't understand anything but headlines. Now he was forced to answer that ass? He looked at Bauer with compassion, as though he felt truly sorry for his ignorance. ‘Gentlemen, Jewish psychoanalysis,' he said, ‘is to blame for everything! The Jews copied German ideas—Nietzsche, for example, or all those notions of self-improvement that inform the concept of
Bildung
—and distorted them. Remember, the Minister of Propaganda warned us in 1933 that it was forbidden for Jews to be interpreters of the German spirit. But Milton's German models aroused the envy of marketing companies all over Europe. In fact, Milton offered a kind of
Bildung
for business: acquire a deep knowledge of the belief systems in the states where you are active, and shape your own future by constantly improving your ability!'

The young man objected that the idea seemed fantastic to him. Thomas sipped his cold drink; it was best for them to realise that not everything was worthy of his response. Around him they made their spoons and forks dance between their plates and cups. The young man muttered something in condemnation of the Americans, and they all nodded. Thomas sensed that between the young man and Bauer a united front might be formed against him in contempt of his work in the service of capitalism, even though they needed Milton's know-how. Hence he had to emphasise the Germanness of his work. Anyway, the young man and Bauer were merely phantoms at this meeting.

He stuffed a piece of strudel into his mouth and swallowed it, as if fired by a blazing appetite for those damned apples. A crumb got
stuck between his teeth, but at least Weller nodded to him in encouragement. Then he leaned forwards and explained the principles of the model, cordially hinting at an affinity to be found in education and manners, and an elusive, nuanced point of view: ‘When we said “soul” we were referring to race and not to psychological prattle. If the Poles thought it was about their soul, so much the better for them. There's a prominent trait of the Pole for you: a catastrophic combination of arrogance and obstinacy. History has taught us that the Poles did indeed take Rousseau's advice “to set at defiance the power and ambition of your neighbours. You may not prevent them from swallowing you up; see to it at least that they will not be able to digest you.” No nation in Europe hatched such crazy plots: any four Poles with a bayonet believed they could defeat the Czar's army. And if I may be permitted to sharpen my answer to your question: the project was set up and designed in Germany, and the other branches are reflections of the original. Anyway, the main point is that we developed a system that can predict the behaviour of the Polish national. Contrary to the theories of all sorts of “experts on Eastern matters”, who have never actually been to Poland, Milton's system was perfected through the work of the Warsaw branch.'

Weller nodded with satisfaction, and a wave of excitement surged through Thomas. Finally—months after Milton had collapsed in Germany and put him in a tailspin, without work or decent severance pay or the right to royalties from the branch offices that he had created—he had come to the right place.

Stroking the metal frame of his glasses, Weller told him that his superior, Dr Schnurre, was meeting this evening with the acting Soviet ambassador. He added, as though sharing a secret, that Dr Schnurre was working on a new trade agreement that would be worth hundreds of millions of Reichsmarks. Germany would buy raw materials from the Soviet Union, supplies that German industry needed like air to breathe. His boyish assistant excitedly ticked them off: wheat, mineral oil, cotton, cattle fodder, phosphates, timber.

Thomas chuckled to himself at their enthusiasm, and politely endorsed their admiration for the architect of the agreement: it was a
stroke of genius that would change the face of Europe forever.

The young man even added that everyone in the Foreign Office knew that Georg Weller was Dr Schnurre's spokesman, and that von Ribbentrop himself championed Schnurre's policies. But Bauer now reprimanded him severely: No one dictated anything to the Foreign Minister except the Führer.

Why, Thomas asked himself, was Bauer so stiff? In his imagination he spoke to the officer in the same tone that Carlson Mailer had used at the New Year's party. But all that this stupid daydream showed was how much control Thomas had lost over the past few months.

Weller was cajoling—Thomas imagined his voice as an upholstered rocking chair, inviting you to curl up in it—and he tensed. This man could be a dangerous rival. It was no coincidence that he was telling him that the world would shortly be astonished by a new trade agreement between Germany and the Soviet Union. This would remove the final obstacle to resolving the Polish question, which the Führer was determined to do soon. It was impossible any longer to tolerate such behaviour towards the German nation. A war with Poland was weeks away, and the Foreign Office believed that insufficient resources had been devoted to studying the Polish man. Reliable information was needed that could be useful after Germany invaded and took control. ‘We in the Foreign Office are concerned: each agency has its own experts on Eastern affairs, who may present strange ideas that will damage the Fatherland's good name. We would like to see a well-defined plan outlining the correct means for dealing with the population. Even if everyone reviles the Pole, he's still a person who believes all kinds of things.'

A tremor of enthusiasm struck Thomas. He declared to Weller that he hadn't the shadow of a doubt that his model could help the Foreign Office. But it would need to be expanded for the purposes of governing Poland. A comprehensive model would need supplementary research, a new synthesis of the data. In fact, this would be a new model…The tongue, like any other muscle, regains its flexibility with a little practice.

A waiter approached and began to remove the plates. Apart from most of Thomas's strudel, nothing remained but crumbs, smears of fruit and whipped cream.

‘In this restaurant they serve the most marvellous pastries in Berlin.' Weller sighed, and Thomas signalled to the waiter to leave his strudel, which seemed even bigger now than before he had tackled it. While he was playing with his fork, Bauer asked truculently, ‘As an expert on Eastern matters, sir, do you speak Polish?'

He answered gladly that he understood Polish, of course, though he didn't speak it fluently, and he listed the languages that he had mastered: English, French, Italian and Russian. Weller seemed satisfied, the young man looked at him with respect, but Bauer's face quivered, and it was clear he was sorry he had raised the question.

Weller boasted about his own knowledge of Russian—his position demanded it—and asked in Russian, in a somewhat gravelly accent, ‘When did Herr Heiselberg manage to learn all that?'

‘I always loved languages,' said Thomas, taking pleasure in his Muscovite accent. ‘In my youth I studied Russian from books, and then my mother hired a tutor from Moscow for me. I absorb the music of a new language, and then, even if I lack words, everything comes more easily.'

‘Indeed, you could have chosen your words with more precision, and you could also improve the declensions. If you want, I would be glad to help with small improvements,' Weller offered, his gravity enveloped with good will. ‘But your accent is truly enviable.'

At this affinity between Weller and Thomas, Bauer's face darkened. He leaned over and picked up a few pebbles and juggled them. Then he demanded that the table limit itself to German.

‘Herr Heiselberg, would it be possible to prepare a new model in such a short time?' Weller asked.

‘How much time do we have?' Thomas asked, and at once regretted that he might seem too eager.

‘A few weeks at most,' Weller answered. ‘Germany's negotiations with the Soviet Union are going to begin very soon.'

This time, Thomas was in no hurry to answer, and he let Bauer boast about the inconclusive connections between the Western powers and the Soviet Union, as if this were his own personal accomplishment. But if the government dillydallied, the French and English would offer Stalin concessions in the east to tempt him into an alliance against Germany.

‘Stalin won't come to any agreement with them,' said the young man contemptuously. ‘He kicked the Jew Litvinov out of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs in order to improve ties with Germany. There could be no other interpretation.'

The young man had courage. He was absorbing blow after blow, but he didn't give up.

‘True,' said Weller, the expert on the Soviet Union, ‘but the model we're discussing isn't supposed to draw on shallow information from the press.'

‘No, of course not.' Thomas took advantage of the opportunity. ‘The model observes strict research principles. It explains the present and suggests the actions necessary to shape the future. Therefore we avoid direct contact with day-to-day politics.' He gave ‘day-to-day' the disdain of a professor responding to a student's questions about current events.

‘Excellent. That's just what we need.' Weller's cheeks bulged into two fleshy balls.

Bauer juggled his pebbles in irritation, then gripped them in his fist. ‘Your brave words about the Jews who distorted German ideas are ringing in my ears,' he said to Thomas. ‘Now you're rescuing Germany from the Jews…'

‘I described our methods precisely.'

‘…instead of saving Jews from Germany,' he concluded, as though he hadn't heard Thomas at all.

‘Why waste time on gossip,' Thomas responded, wondering whether Bauer was referring to Frau Stein, Erika Gelber or both. ‘You're not the one to judge my contribution to the Reich. During the party's days of struggle, when you were still reciting Latin in school, my father gave it his all.'

‘Gentlemen!' Weller waved away a hovering fly, and looked at Bauer impatiently. ‘Let's maintain respect.'

‘To get back to our business, we will continue to refine the model until it's perfect!' Thomas felt encouraged because Weller had also had his fill of Bauer. ‘Look, the kite has come down, but the NSV only rises and rises. There's no organisation in the world more favourable to the welfare of the people!' In a hoarse voice he told them that yesterday he had donated some items from his dear mother's wardrobe to the organisation. She had passed away, but he was pleased to know that those garments would raise the spirits of so many women. He plunged his fork into what was left of the strudel, and finished off the apples and the pastry.

‘You, too, Hauptsturmführer,' he spoke to Bauer—a bit of generosity on the victor's part wouldn't hurt here—‘certainly make a fine contribution to the poor children of the homeland.'