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as we prudent pilots might advise." The others laughed, and the pilot, encouraged by this good humor, turned to the woman. "And Greta, you're a biologist? Looking at polar bears perhaps?"
    She looked amused. "If you've truly been to Antarctica you know as well as I do that there are no bears there. Penguins, of course. And seals. But I'm primarily interested in krill."
    The pilot nodded politely. "Those little shrimp things? We saw clouds of them in the ocean back in '34."
    "Whale food, Hart! Whale food!" Göring boomed. "The key to scientific management of Antarctic whaling. One of many keys to Germany's bright future."
    "Then this mission may indeed have significance for our whaling industry, Reich Minister?" Kohl inquired, with the tone of one who already knew the answer.
    "What whaling industry, Otto?" Göring growled. "The damned Norwegians have a near-monopoly down there. They've laid a territorial claim and tried to chase others out. Well, two can play that game. This expedition will lay its own claim and with it the justification for expansion of the German whaling effort. Whale fat and oils are vital to sustaining our expanding economy. And the greatest whales in the world are to be found in that region."
    "So," Hart said, turning back to Greta. "You'll be taking a census of this whale food?" He was intrigued by her. He'd never heard of a woman going to Antarctica.
    "That and more," she replied. "I'm interested in the relationship between the world of the great— the whale, for example— and the small. The latter is my field of expertise: plankton, protozoa, bacteria, viruses..."
    "Germs," Hart said with a grin.
    "Yes, germs. You might not think so, but they reside in Antarctica too. They're capable of adapting to every condition, including cold. It is this adaptability of life that interests me."
    Drexler piped up. "Greta is a woman who can look in a microscope and see a universe. We're lucky to have her." Greta smiled to acknowledge the compliment.
    A bit obvious, Hart thought. He wondered what their relationship was.
    * * *
    "Hermann," Leni said, "Mr. Hart expressed interest in your trains."
    "Really?" Göring said, his mood clearly jovial. "Are you a railroad enthusiast as well as an aeronaut?"
    "Uhm, well, I like trains." He glanced at Kohl, who nodded approvingly. Drexler looked at Hart with amusement.
    "Ha! I tell my staff it's an organizational exercise," Göring said, smiling. "Designing the tracks, scheduling the trains: not so different from running a nation. But secretly, Hart, I'm convinced we men remain boys, relishing our toys. We leave it to women to be the grown-ups in the house while we play in the outside world. It's one of the reasons I'm so happy that I'm a man— if you can forgive that, Miss Heinz!" Again, the group joined in his laughter.
    "And why I'm happy to be a woman."
    Göring bowed.
    Puffing a bit, the Reich Minister led his entourage up a winding balustrade toward the attic. As they began to ascend Hart found himself just behind and to the right of Greta. Still curious about her, he tried to think of something to say but Drexler smoothly moved in front of him and slipped beside her, forcing the pilot to pause a moment on the stairs to avoid a collision. The tips of the German's fingers brushed her elbow as if to guide her and he whispered a comment. She raised her wineglass to her lips as they climbed, moving her arm slightly out of reach, but she also granted him a look and smile. Hart fell back.
    The party went through an arched wooden door and filed into a dim, cavernous room. When all were present Göring flicked on the lights. Under the eves sprawled an enormous track set with model trains lined up on sidings. The set was the biggest Hart had ever seen: scale-model miles of track and a score of locomotives. Curiously, scenery was absent as if irrelevant to Göring's vision; the layout did indeed resemble some kind of enormous organizational chart in its abstract complexity. Hart