The Rocket Man (33 page)

At ten o'clock they were sitting around the massive table in the dining room. The room was lit by candles, suspended in the huge glass chandelier; the light was reflected in the large gilt mirror above the marble mantelpiece. There were two generals, who had arrived wearing their absurd white uniforms with gold braided epaulettes. There were a handful of Germans, introduced to her as the range controller, the computer systems manager, another engineer; even Weiland himself, looking frail but with glittering eyes. A blonde woman was sitting next to him, of such stunning appearance that she hardly seemed real.

Richter was clearly enjoying himself. The meal was superb; dish after dish kept arriving on the table, fresh fish from the Rio Paraguay, meat, game from the Chaco, everything beautifully garnished and arranged; there were three different kinds of wine; everyone was getting drunk. Katie did not know what to think. She was sitting next to a round, soft-voiced, middle-aged Paraguayan who spoke to her in English. He did not know the way things were going in Paraguay, he said. This talk of democracy was all very well but people did not always know what was good for them. His own career was at an end; he was retired now. He talked about his daughters and his grandchildren, about a visit to Europe many years ago. Katie, for lack of anything else to do, chatted to him amicably. She felt she was lucky to be next to him; he seemed by far the most civilised person there.

She glanced across the table. Richter was drawing parabolas in the air with his finger. The generals were laughing. He mimicked something crude. She looked at Bob; he, too, was laughing. But now Richter had got onto his hobby horse. He would sell launches to whoever could afford it, he said. Brazil, Argentina, Chile; once one had launched one satellite they would all have to have one. Katie looked round the table, at the men's eager faces, at the women, silent, admiring. She thought, whatever am I doing here? How did I get into this? The Chinese had even shown interest, said Richter, the Indonesians, and of course there were so many opportunities in the Middle East.

A hush fell over the table; everyone was listening to him now. ‘
Der Himmel ist für alle da
,' he said, ‘The skies are there for everyone.' He lifted his eyes and made an eloquent gesture in the air with his hands; for an instant his face, which in daylight had always struck her as being crude and heavy, seemed almost fine. They drank a toast; Katie picked up her glass. The poetry of the phrase was not lost on her, but then, nor was the philosophy. It was the same old argument, she thought; she was tired of it. What use in pointing out to Richter that the money would be better spent on roads, on hospitals, on immunisations? What was that to him? He was not interested in these things, she wouldn't even waste her breath.

But Richter seemed to have read her mind. He was describing now the work they were doing on the land in the Chaco. First they had been flying in food for the workers on the project, but now they were drilling wells, irrigating the land, planting crops. They were achieving more in this small area than any of the UN development projects, he said. They were providing health care to the workers. The Indians liked them; they called them the ‘friends who put fire in the heavens.' They had a sophisticated religion and mythology, the Guaraní, said Richter. Now he addressed Katie directly. Had she read anything about them? There were some works by a German anthropologist. Of course there had been talk about exploiting the Indians, but he exploited them a lot less than the Mennonites or the missionaries.

Katie looked at Bob. He didn't catch her eye; he was looking at Liliana; he seemed almost mesmerised. It was the way Liliana ate her food, so slowly, sensuously, the way she raised the glass to her lips. Katie watched her select a peach from the fruit-bowl, peel it, cut it, put out her tongue to lick the fruit before she put it in her mouth. Then Liliana caught Bob's eye, as if she knew that he was watching her, smiled, and looked at Katie. A tiny shock went through her; for an instant she wondered, why had I never thought of it before? Of course, that's why he wanted to come to work with Wolf; that is why he has dragged us half way across the world; he is still in love with Liliana.

After supper the man who had been sitting next to Katie took his leave. He smiled at her and kissed her hand. They all went to have coffee on the veranda. It was now quite cool outside. The wind stirred in the palm trees and wrinkled the water of the pool. Liliana poured coffee from a silver pot, passed Katie the tiny cup, and sat down next to her. She said, ‘You have made quite a conquest. Did you like him?'

‘He was charming,' said Katie. ‘Who was he?'

‘I met his daughter at a party the other day. She denies the stories that are told. That man was chief of police in one of the most repressive eras of the Stroessner regime. Apparently his excesses were so great that even Stroessner couldn't put up with him and to get him out of the way he was sent abroad as ambassador. Apparently he made a very good one.'

Katie could not disguise the shock which went through her at this. But then, she supposed that was right; even torturers were pleasant men, good fathers, husbands. Liliana sighed; she said, in a low voice, conspiratorial, confiding, ‘I hate this town, there is nothing to do here. I asked to stay in Paris this trip but Wolf makes me go everywhere with him. He doesn‘t trust me. He is so jealous. You know, when Bob came to stay and Wolf was in Stuttgart he made the chauffeur sleep in my bed so that Bob wouldn't do so. The chauffeur was gay, you see.' She laughed with amusement.

Katie said, not amused at all, ‘When did Bob visit you?'

‘Oh, it was maybe three months ago. Didn't he tell you?'

‘He told me he was in Paris, for an interview.'

Liliana laughed. ‘Well I can assure you nothing happened – don't look like that. What's the matter? Are you feeling ill?'

‘It's the heat,' said Katie, ‘It's given me a headache. I'm very tired. I think I'll go up to bed.'

Katie lay in bed in the dark. She could hear the voices still coming up from below. The phrase echoed in her head; ‘
Der Himmel ist für alle da
.' The beauty of the phrase could not survive translation. Surely someone who could say this could not be without some imagination? She could not understand what Richter was about. He was not the kind of man who, obsessed only with the details of his project, could not look beyond that to its uses; no, he was only too aware of its potential, and of the fact that he could make a lot of money out of it. But human beings were strange and complicated. Her moral values, which had seemed so simple when she was young, were now all mixed up. Perhaps Richter genuinely thought his rockets would be used only for peaceful purposes, just as Bob – and Mitya, perhaps, too – had believed that nuclear energy could be separated from nuclear bombs. Or perhaps he didn't care about their use, was interested only in the technical achievement. She rolled over in bed; her head ached. She wished Bob would hurry up and join her, not because she wanted him there so much as because she could imagine him sitting down below, talking to Liliana, only too clearly. She felt suddenly angry; with herself as much as with him. After all, what right did she have to be jealous? She had lied enough to him; it was not as if she had been faithful.

It was two in the morning when Bob finally came up. When he saw she was awake he leaned over and kissed her. Katie did not respond. He crossed the room and took off his shoes; Katie sat up on one elbow. ‘What are we doing here?' she asked. ‘I can't stand these people. Sitting down to dinner with Nazis and torturers. Doesn't it make you feel ashamed?'

‘Oh, come on,' said Bob, ‘It's not as bad as that, you've got to face realities. What do you mean about torturers, anyway?'

Katie told him what Liliana had said. Bob frowned. He said, ‘Are you sure that's true? There are so many of these stories.'

‘Yes, but most of them are true,' said Katie. ‘And hardly any of these people have been prosecuted. The same people who tortured and had people killed are now sitting behind their desks and getting on with their jobs. Why shouldn't it be true? I don't understand you. What are we doing here? I don't want to have anything to do with these kind of people.'

‘Weiland is the only ex-Nazi –'

‘I said Nazis. There's no such thing as an ex-Nazi, you should know that.'

‘Weiland is not a war criminal. He's perfectly respectable, he has lived in the States for years, he worked with NASA –'

‘Please, don't let's argue.' Katie changed the subject abruptly. ‘Liliana told me the Americans are putting pressure on him to stop.'

‘Yes, that's true. Articles are appearing in the newspapers, questions have been raised at the UN. Most of what is said is completely false. Nobody minded at first but now it's obvious he's having success with the rockets everyone is getting upset about it. Wolf has actually written to the UN requesting a team of inspectors to come to the site and verify that this is simply for peaceful purposes – actually that was my idea.'

‘But what about the US? If they want it stopped, they can have it stopped, can't they?'

‘It's not as simple as that. We have this legitimate contract. Rodriguez is very keen on the rocket project. They're crazy to attract foreign investment here. They want to develop the Chaco. Paraguay has always been about the most insignificant country in the whole of Latin America; this is something that gives them some prestige.'

‘But it's not giving them any money, is it? There was an article in the paper here today arguing that the terms of the contract are quite unfair – that Paraguay won't get anything out of it except a free satellite launch until the company is making a big profit.'

‘That's true. But it will make big profits, and then we'll see who's laughing.' Bob was getting undressed; he went to the bathroom to clean his teeth. He came back to the doorway in his pyjamas and stood looking at her.

‘It's hot; do you want the air-conditioning on?'

‘I can't stand the air conditioning. I wake up freezing cold. Why can't they have a thermostat on these things?'

‘God, how you complain about everything.' He came to bed and, with a sudden affectionate gesture, started to stroke her but she pushed him away.

‘I don't want to, Bob, the baby –' It was the perfect excuse. She didn't want him to touch her. ‘Bob, are you sure it's safe in the Chaco? Supposing the rocket blows up on the launch pad or something. Anna –'

‘It'll be fine. President Rodriguez is coming to see it personally. There might even be a representative from the US.'

‘Is that what the man from the Embassy told you?'

‘What man from the Embassy?' Bob's voice had changed subtly; she could hear the note of tension in it. ‘What do you mean?'

‘Liliana said you'd had a drink with someone from the US Embassy.'

‘She must have been imagining things.' Bob lay quietly for a moment. She glanced surreptitiously at him; he was lying flat on his back, his eyes open; he was frowning. ‘When did she mention it?'

‘Earlier this evening. What's the matter? Is it very important?'

‘No, of course not.' A silence fell; they were both lying still, both slightly tense, neither wanting to let the other know that they weren't sleeping. It must have been three or four in the morning, Katie thought; at that time, briefly, the traffic ceased almost entirely. Katie got up, went into the bathroom and started retching over the sink. Bob did not stir. She returned to the bed and lay there, crying soundlessly. She thought she might as well leave him, she might as well be on her own, she felt so lonely. She neither trusted him nor knew what he was thinking; she felt absolutely lost. Then she thought of Anna, waiting for them in England, and tears came into her eyes.

‘Are you coming, then?' asked Liliana.

‘I've packed. Will I need much?'

‘It's quite comfortable there, don't worry.' Liliana tied a scarf around her head. ‘We'll leave in half an hour. I'll drive us to the airport; Bob will be there already.'