Дэймон Найт - Orbit 10

“IN DUSSELDORF, as in certain other Rhinish Hauptstädten, there is a large, yellow-brick building very close to the railroad terminal. I am told that a great many good German Bürger make their periodic, Kaabic journey to this yellow institution; inside one is confronted by a bewildering array of charming and less charm­ing photos, blurrily enticing Kodachromes of Mädchen that may be rung up in the manner to which one has become accustomed.

“It is sometimes difficult for the uninitiated to know how to re­act to this. Europe, by its very nature, is like this, in all ways and throughout its continental extent. The pure geographic propin­quity of nations lulls the tourist’s sense of culture. How easy it is to cross a border and find oneself immediately in an entirely differ­ent milieu of mores and folkways. It is necessary to change your ethics at the booth while you change your pounds sterling or kronor.

“Do you have inhibitions? Lose them, or be unhappy, for sooner or later you will have one or another offended. No matter how grotesque the practice, how bestial the behavior, if you live Continental long enough you will find the neighborhood where it is merely comme il faut. For some, it is not the superficiality of ‘When in Rome . . .’ but a matter of survival.”

“Mein Herr Doktor, how is it that she speaks so? What language is it?”

“It is English she speaks, Frau Kämmer. She is delirious; often­times they will babble so in another language. But it is strange that she is so coherent. It is almost as if she recites.”

“Aber, Herr Freischütz, my Gretchen knows no English. It cannot be English that she speaks.”

“Far away now, beyond the political and other walls that we have built, beneath the impossible burden of years, look: Unter den Linden. Berlin! The mention of that brightest and most sophisticated of capitals did not always carry with it the indelible tinge of guilt, the subtlest pricks of fear. Unter den Linden: no other avenue in metropolitan Europe quite held the imagination of the literate world to such a degree; no other city’s showplace was ever so rich with the modish, the absolute dernier cri. The broad, shaded way runs from the former Royal Palace down to the Vopos at Checkpoint Charlie. As in any large city, the Unter den Linden of old was frequented by the ubiquitous Strassendirnen; but, whether or not it was merely the effect of the reflec­tion of old Berlin’s loveliness, these easier matches did not offend the grace and charm of the street. It was only after the war that Berlin learned shame.

“This shame was not previously totally unknown. It was, however, unnecessary. Beginning with Carolus Magnus, or Charle­magne, the Germans began their expansion eastward - the notori­ous Drang nach Osten - late in the eighth century. To this day the land to the west of the River Elbe is known as the ‘old Germany,’ and the land east, the ‘new Germany.’ Thus, historical precedent has given way to shame; the shame is shared by those who know the old Germany, for these are immersed in the most ancient of traditions. The new Germany is comparatively younger, but no one, not the oldest Weisskopf, is able to remember the initial annexation. Whatever shame is felt, therefore, is hereditary in nature. It is false shame.”

“Guten Nachmittag, Herr Doktor.”

“Ja, und auch lhnen.”

“Wie geht es lhnen?”

“Sehr gut, danke. Ihre Tochter hat gut geschlafen. Wie geht’s lhnen?”

“Ach, comme çi, comme ça. Pas mal.”

“Where is Germany? Do you find Germany in the thousands of Volkswagens on the American highways? Is Germany to be found by searching amongst the sausages and waltzes and Buddenbrooks of the world? Where is Germany? What, now, is Germany?

“Germany has traded Weltschmerz for ethischer Fortschritt. The sensuousness of the Italians, the chauvinism of the French, the snobbery of the British, the unbridled passions of the Danish and the Swedes, the inscrutability of the Finnish, all these are as nothing compared to the sincerity of the German concern for morality. ‘May God punish the sinful French’ is a slogan for the masses; it is also, perhaps, an indication of the direction the Ger­man Weltanschauung has taken. It is no longer permissible to allow the nationalities of our continent to squander their precious energies in lustful abandon. It is time for a cleansing.

“But does this mean, I hear you ask, does this mean that a new wave of Puritanism must o’ersweep us, one and all? No, I reply, for extremism does not fit in with our own and exquisitely Ger­man idea of Weltpolitik.

“We cannot yet look for Germany in those isolated and expen­sive places in the sun. The specter of doom rises, and falls, and rises again: such is the natural course of events. It must rise once more like the Unterseeboot, to an economic and social periscope depth. There must be some effectual Curt Jurgens at the helm, and the tubes must be kept cleared for action. ‘Bearing zero five four, two thousand yards . . . Mark!’ This must be the watch­word. ‘Torpedos. . . Los!’ must be the countersign.”

“What is she saying? Does she still go on in English?”

“Yes, Nurse. But she becomes less coherent. What is this in­flammatory rhetoric? Such pseudo-poetry! Ah, such a strange coma.”

“Herr Doktor, can nothing be done? She rambles on so; the other patients complain of the constant disturbance.”

“Naja, then. Give her ein Glas Schnaps.”

“There is no hiding this shame. It hides im Bahnhof, it lurks im Postamt, there is no peeling it from your shaking shoulders. ‘Ich bekenne mich die Anklage, “nicht schuldig.’“ How many of us stop our laughter when we buy soap, when we touch the lamp­shade? When the SS and the SA march away, whose minds do they take with them, even now? ‘Wenn wir fahren gegen England!’

“ ‘Isn’t the Jew a human being too? Of course he is; none of us ever doubted it,’ wrote Joseph Goebbels. ‘All we doubt is that he is a decent human being.’

“Ich bekenne mich die Anklage, ‘nicht schuldig.’

“ ‘But in all, we can say that we fulfilled this heaviest of tasks in love to our people. And we suffered no harm in our essence, in our soul, in our character. . . .’ Heinrich Himmler wrote that.

“ ‘Paragraph 1: Jews may receive only those first names which are listed in the directives of the Ministry of the Interior concern­ing the use of first names.

“ ‘Paragraph 2: If Jews should bear first names other than those permitted to Jews according to Par. 1, they must, as of January 1, 1939, adopt an additional name. For males, that name shall be Israel, for females Sara.’

‘“On May 11, another transport of Jews (1,000 pieces) arrived in Minsk from Vienna, and was taken from the station directly to the above-mentioned ditch . .

“Ich bekenne mich . . .

“I plead ‘not guilty.’“

“Ah, Frau Kämmer, so good of you to come. I must speak to you about your daughter. Gretchen is a tragic case. Her coma is now nearly a year. She takes little food, she is wasting away; she is but a human skeleton. But, you know, she never ceases to talk. Her voice is anguished, Frau Kämmer, so that it pains one to lis­ten. But what she says? Still delirium.