"And this!" He opened where another slip of paper had been
inserted. "Everything we want to know, practically."
"I don't get this." He wasn't sick, any more; just bewildered. "I read
some reviews of this thing. All the reviewers panned hell out of
it--'World War II Through a Bedroom Keyhole'; 'Henty in Black Lace
Panties'--that sort of thing."
"Yeh, yeh, sure," Pickering agreed. "But this Hernandez has illusions
of being a great serious historical novelist, see. She won't try to
write a book till she's put in years of research--actually, about six
months' research by a herd of librarians and college-juniors and other
such literary coolies--and she boasts that she never yet has been
caught in an error of historical background detail.
"Well, this opus is about the old Manhattan Project. The heroine is a
sort of super-Mata-Hari, who is, alternately and sometimes
simultaneously, in the pay of the Nazis, the Soviets, the Vatican,
Chiang Kai-Shek, the Japanese Emperor, and the Jewish International
Bankers, and she has affairs with everybody from Joe Stalin to Joe
McCarthy, and of course, she is in on every step of the A-bomb
project. She even manages to stow away on the Enola Gay, with the help
of a general she's spent fifty incandescent pages seducing.
"In order to tool up for this production-job, La Hernandez did her
researching just where Lourenco Gomes probably did his--University of
Montevideo Library.
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