He also hated Gorppet, and hoped the Jews had cut the miserable Lizard’s throat. For all he knew, they might have. Gorppet had gone into that house, but he hadn’t come out, any more than Anielewicz had.
Despite his loathing of the Race, Drucker found himself having to work through and with the Lizards. He couldn’t very well approach that house in Kanth himself, not in his fancy new major general’s uniform. That would be all the Jewish terrorists needed. They’d set off their bomb just for the fun of blowing up a high-ranking Nazi. Hell, in their shoes he would have done the same thing.
Since he couldn’t approach the Jews, he went into the tent where Gorppet’s superior, a male named Hozzanet, was still working. Another Lizard was talking with Hozzanet, one whose style of body paint he recognized. “I greet you, Shuttlecraft Pilot,” he said-talking with that one was bound to be more interesting than talking with the male from Security.
The Lizard to whom he’d spoken swung a startled eye turret in his direction and asked, “How is it that you know what my body paint means?”
“I have also flown in space, as pilot of the upper stage of an A-45,” Drucker answered. “I tried to destroy one of your starships, but I did not quite succeed.” Since he did not think he had met the pilot before, he also gave his name.
To his surprise, the Lizard said, “Oh, I remember you. I was the shuttlecraft pilot who flew you back to Nuremberg after you were released from captivity. I am Nesseref.”
“Are you?” Drucker said, and knew that sounded foolish as soon as it came out of his mouth. “We have a saying in my language: small world, is it not?”
“So it would seem,” Nesseref said. “It is small enough. I am given to understand that we share Mordechai Anielewicz as a friend.”
“As an acquaintance, at any rate,” Drucker said, though he wondered why he bothered splitting hairs. His acquaintanceship with the Jew was close enough to let the Lizards squeeze him because of it. If that didn’t make it friendship, it came close enough. He asked, “And how did you become acquainted with Anielewicz?”
“My home is in Poland,” the Lizard answered. He-no, she, Drucker recalled-went on, “We met quite by chance, but found we liked each other. That is how any friendship between two individuals begins. Is it not a truth?”
“I suppose so,” Drucker said. “The question now is, what can we do to help him stop the terrorists from setting off that bomb?”
“Truth,” Nesseref said, and Hozzanet echoed her.
The male from Security went on, “I know that your government now perceives we were not responsible for allowing the terrorists to enter the Reich with this bomb. We did not give it to them. In fact, as you will recall, it is of Deutsch manufacture.”
But Drucker shook his head. Walter Dornberger had given him specific instructions on this point. “The Jews are your puppets. You let them keep the bomb for all those years. If they use it against us, we shall hold you responsible for that act of war against the Reich.”
“You would fight us again?” Hozzanet demanded. “You truly would, in view of what happened the last time?”
“I can only tell you what my Fuhrer tells me,” Drucker answered. “We are an independent not-empire even now, and you may not treat us as if we were of no account.”
“If you fight us again, you shall be of no account,” Hozzanet said. “Can you not see that? Whatever you try to do to us, we shall do to you tenfold.”
Back during the Second World War, before the Lizards came, the Germans had always said they would punish their foes ten times harder than they were hurt. Hearing that phrase aimed at the Reich made Drucker wince, especially since he knew the Lizards could so readily carry out their threat. Nevertheless, he spoke as he’d been ordered to speak: “But we will also hurt you again. You know we can. How soon will you be weaker than the Americans and the Russians?”
He knew a good deal about Lizards. He didn’t watch Hozzanet’s face. He watched the tip of the Lizard’s stumpy little tail. Sure enough, it quivered. That meant Hozzanet was upset. The male made a good game effort not to show it, though, saying, “First, the Reich does not have the power to do that to us. Second, regardless of any other concerns, none of you Deutsche would be here to learn the answer to that question.”
Dornberger had foretold that he would say something like that. The former engineer and commandant at Peenemunde was shaping as an effective Fuhrer- as effective as he could be in a crippled Reich. Just as in a well-planned chess opening, Drucker had the next move waiting: “Do you think we are unprepared to sacrifice ourselves now so that Tosevites triumph in the end?”
Hozzanet’s tailstump quivered again. But the Lizard said, “To be perfectly frank, yes. That is exactly what I think. You Big Uglies are very seldom able to think or plan for the long term. Why should this occasion be any different?”
He had a point. Drucker did his best not to acknowledge it, saying, “Precisely because we have so little to lose.”
“Any individual’s life is a lot to lose,” Nesseref put in. “No one can lose anything more important.”
That was sensible. Drucker somehow wasn’t surprised. Anyone who flew into space had to have good sense. Otherwise, you ended up dead before you got the chance to gain much experience.
Hozzanet said, “Let me see if I understand something. The Reich is interested in attacking this house in Kanth, to attempt to put the Jewish Tosevites out of action before they can detonate the bomb.”
“That is a truth,” Drucker agreed.
“But if you try this attack and fail, so that the bomb detonates, you will blame the Race,” the Lizard persisted.
“That is also a truth,” Drucker said.
“How can both these things be true at once?” Hozzanet demanded. “How can you blame us if your assault fails?”
“Because we should not even have to consider the possibility of making an assault,” Drucker answered. “Because these Tosevites had no business having a bomb in the first place, let alone smuggling it into the Reich. That they had it and that they could smuggle it are both the fault of the Race.”
“Whose fault is it that these Tosevites hate the Reich so much?” Hozzanet said. “Whose fault is it that Poland was attacked, which created the chaos that let them move the bomb? Both these things are the fault of the Reich.”
He was probably right about that. No: he was certainly right about that. But Drucker said, “I have stated the Fuhrer’s views on the matter.”
“So you have,” Hozzanet said sourly. “The Race’s view is that they are foolish and irresponsible. The Race’s view is also that, if you will blame us for the failure, you shall not be allowed to make the attempt.”
“I protest, in the name of my government,” Drucker said.
“Protest all you please,” Hozzanet replied. “I tell you, this thing shall not be done.” He added an emphatic cough. “I tell you also that, if your government launches combat aircraft, we shall do everything in our power to shoot them down before they can attack Kanth.”
“What you are saying, then, is that the Reich is depending on a male of the Race and a Jew to save it from this explosive-metal bomb,” Drucker said. Before either Lizard could speak, he held up a hand to show he hadn’t finished. “I have seen that not everything my government has said about the Jews is true. But Anielewicz has reason to hate us, not to wish us well.”
“When Gorppet called him, Anielewicz could have let these other Jewish Tosevites detonate their bomb and punish the Reich,” Hozzanet said. “He did not. He came here to try to stop them. You should remember that.”
By the nature of things, Hozzanet couldn’t know about the parable that spoke of the Pharisee who passed on the other side of the road and the good Samaritan who stopped to help a man in need. Even without knowing it, though, he got the message across.
And, just in case he hadn’t, Nesseref drove it home: “These other Jews, the ones with the bomb, hate the Reich more than Mordechai Anielewicz does. If that were not true, he would not have come here at all.”
Drucker suspected Anielewicz worried more about further damage to Poland than about damage to the Reich. In Anielewicz’s place, he suspected he would have felt the same way. But that didn’t make the Lizards wrong. With a stiff nod, Drucker said, “I shall report your words to the Fuhrer.”
He went back to the German encampment alongside that of the Race and telephoned Walter Dornberger. After he’d given his old commander the meat of the conversation with the two Lizards, Dornberger let out a long sigh. “What you’re telling me, Hans,” the Fuhrer said, “is that we have to rely on this Jew? There’s more irony in that than I really want to stomach.”
“I understand, sir. I feel the same way, pretty much,” Drucker replied. “But I don’t think Anielewicz will leave Kanth alive without getting those terrorists to give up their bomb. The Lizards seem sure he’ll do everything he can.” He didn’t want to let Dornberger know he knew the Jew well enough to have his own opinion.
“But will it be enough?” Dornberger demanded.
“Right now, sir, we can only hope,” Drucker said. He also suspected he hoped even more urgently than the Fuhrer did. Walter Dornberger, after all, was back in Flensburg. He wouldn’t turn to radioactive dust if something went wrong here in Kanth. But I will, Drucker thought. Dammit, I will.