"Michael Moorcock - An Evening at Home" - читать интересную книгу автора (Moorcock Michael)

tradition in Germany."

Jokingly, I said there were a few too many Jews running the scientific
establishments there for my taste. He hesitated at this, doubtless because he
was here on a diplomatic mission, then laughed heartily. "Very good!" He said.
"Very good, professor! I think you and I will get on well. You must come and
see us in Germany once the Nazi experiment is thoroughly under way. Great
things are happening. The Duce's inspiration, Adolf Hitler's genius and German
know-how will transform the country and, in time, the entire world."
Although his expression was usually fixed in a jovial smile, he seemed unable
to relax. Mrs Cornelius nudged him. "What does it take ter make a kraut let
his hair down?" she asked me, winking. Again he was hugely apologetic. He was
here on official business and clearly found it difficult to move from one mode
to the other. "Wot abart this party, then?" She dropped her voice. "Yore just
the chap, Ivan. 'Erman wants ter know if there's anywhere they do the
'okey-cokey rahnd 'ere," and she put a finger to her perfect nose.

I was confused by all these turns of events and pulled my card from my inside
pocket, scribbling an address on the blank side. It was where I hoped to meet
Mandy Butter later. "I might be there myself," I said. "Mention my name." I
winked back. At which point, to my absolute horror, a figure in a uniform
which would have seemed garish on the stage of the Vienna Comic Opera, taller
than Captain Goering by almost a head but threatening to rival him in
corpulence, moving with what I can only describe as a kind of monumental
mince, cracked its jackboots together, offered the Fascist salute and regarded
me through rheumy, affectionate eyes which failed to hide the signs of a
thousand disappointments. He uttered a wide, ghastly grin. "Good evening, Herr
Captain," he said to Goering, whose expression of distaste was undisguised,
"Maxim, dear. Did I hear somebody talk about a party?"

Mrs Cornelius betrayed us then. She was a far more generous soul than I, but
she did not know the newcomer. I think, too, she did not wish to travel alone
in a taxi with Goering. "I'm sure we're orl welcome," she said. "Yore wiv the
German party, too, aren't yer? We'll go tergevver!"

In spite of the horrible embarrassment at meeting Seryozha again, and in such
unexpected circumstances, I was curious as to how he had managed to come back
to Italy after only a few months -- and as part of the unofficial German
delegation! When Mrs Cornelius led Captain Goering off to meet an old friend
who, she said, was with the British Embassy in Rome, I was left with my
slobbering ex-dancer who, of course, wanted to open his heart to me there and
then. His boyfriend had sent him here, he said, to keep an eye on things.
"Eric's a really top-ranking Nazi, you know. A bit of a brute, really, but he
has his points. Well, they're all totally rivalrous, darling. It's worse than
the ballet! Nobody trusts anybody else and Eric's afraid what he calls the
'eggheads' are going behind his back. He wanted to come to this thing, but
they wouldn't let him. They let him send me instead. I'm his aide. I'm his
eyes and ears, he said. They had to agree to let me come. It's at his expense,
anyway. He even had this uniform made for me. He's the one I met in Bolivia.
It's all secret, of course. I hear you're doing well in the government now.