Gases -- A Short Story

Chapter 4

1933

The security guard looked down at his quarry. The man had been sitting quietly in the chaotic airport as he waited to be addressed. Now, he sat meekly in the interrogation room of London Heathrow.

The man was dressed in an immaculate suit and though he was contemplating the silent guard mildly, there were hard lines around his deep set eyes which belied an inner strength.

Unaware of the atmosphere of ominous malevolence, the burly security guard spoke with nonchalance to the little man.

"Reasons for evading Germany?"

"I am a converted Jew. The Nazis offered to let me keep my post as Director of the Seiff Research Institute and continue funding my research, but I was ashamed at the way they had limited my fellow Jewish scientists' ability to do research in Germany."

"I see." The officer dragged his fingers along a file through on his chaotic desk. The guard then glanced through his bushy brows at the man before him, voice thick from a suppressed yawn. He rattled through the customary questions.

"And your wife?"

"Dead."

"Children?"

"Gone."

"Why did you decide on Britain? Wouldn't something closer to home be more natural?" The guard stared at the wall behind the little man, bleary eyes locked with the space above the man's head.

The man waved his hands. "I have always been a great admirer of the British; you value science and research so highly. I feel that your country would appreciate my work. Soon there may be war. I do not want to be any closer to Germany than I must; I must be prudent. I am a scientist of the world, after all."

"Yes. I see you are a chemist?"

The man nodded with a slight snort of annoyance. The lack of knowledge that  the officer had shown about the Seiff Insititute was -- in his opinion -- shameful. The man had yet to notice the guard's disinterested tone.

The guard lent forward, as if in interest, with a awkward genial smile  "What precisely were you working on prior to your decision to emigrate?"

A weary look sharpened the man's eye and he shot a suspicious glare at the officer. The guard's face stayed smiling with a mildly interested and idiotic look though his eyes never left the far wall.

"This and that." The man paused before continuing with growing confidence, "New purification processes, studies on combustion, a few commercial studies, things of that sort. In the Seiff Institute we tried to keep our researches practical and useful."

"Well, that is good. I assume you also look into useful chemicals like pesticides?" The guard blinked lazily.

The man grew rigid. All traces of comfort and confidence were wiped away and replaced with a terse look.

"Yes; among other things. We did dabble into research on pesticides. But that was by no means our main focus. Merely a profitable side-project."

"I see." The guard looked down from the man's hard glare to his desk. Staring at the papers strewn along the length of his desk as if he could force them to behave, the officer said. "Well sir, it seems that all your paperwork is in order."

The guard stood and stretched his hand out to the man across the desk.

The man rose, working out the kinks that come with age from his lanky frame. He drew half-moon spectacles from his inside pocket and perched them neatly onto his prominent nose. All of a sudden, the personal force that had been emanating from the little man was masked by a benign and owlish expression. With a firm grip on the man's part, they shook hands.

"I'm sure you'll find Britain to have just as many modern laboratories as you are used to, Doctor." The guard drawled.

"I'm sure I will."  

They smiled politely at each other.

The guard sat himself back down with a loud and content exhale, aware of a job well done.

"Welcome to Britain, Dr. Haber."