THE LAST GOOD WAR: A Novel by Paul Wonnacott

priceless,” continued Marian, “but the French Intelligence Bureau wasn't interested; they wanted to milk their spy for other information, on German rearmament plans. Then Bertrand went to the British. They weren't interested either; they thought the Enigma simply couldn't be broken. In frustration, he turned to me. I was ecstatic. I already had good relations with him, and they've been even better since.”
    “So the French and British did drop the ball,” Anna conceded. “But what motivated the German? Treason is so hard to understand.”
    “Really? There are three great reasons: divided loyalties, sex, and money, in no particular order.” Marian's tone was slightly patronizing; he was explaining the wicked world to a naive twenty-year old. “In this case, it was sex and money; he needed money to afford his love affairs.
    “But let's get back to the point. If you think your English needs work, you could go back to the University for an hour or two each day, to study English intensively. Concentrate on technical terms. If the meeting with the Brits does work out, I'd like you to take the lead in presentations to them. With a bit of work, I think you'd be up to it. We—the old guard—chose French as our main foreign language.
    “We could get translators from the Foreign Office,” Marian continued. “But we'd rather not. The fewer people present, the smaller the risk of a security breach. Also, things will move much faster if one of us can explain things directly to the English—not go through a tedious translation. Of course, none of the Brits speaks Polish. They don't much believe in learning other languages. The farther East they go, the less interested they seem to be.”
    With her English studies, Anna's next few months were hectic, but she made a point of getting away whenever Kaz had a free day.
    At the first Enigma meeting in June, Anna asked if she might say something. Henryk guessed what it was.
    “Is it related to Enigma?”
    “No,” said Anna softly.
    “To the security of the realm?”
    She realized she was going to be teased; she might as well take it in good humor. She answered in dramatic style:
    “No, no, my liege. I humbly do confess.”
    Henryk played along; they now really were on the same wavelength.
    “And what can claim the time of these great knights?”
    He waved his hand expansively around the table, ignoring the inconvenient fact that there were only two other people present. Anna responded:
    “Great knights? But is the table round, my lord?
    My senses do betray me.”
    Conspicuously placing one hand over a corner of the table and raising the other to her brow, she feigned a half swoon.
    Henryk insisted:
    “The table round, I swear.
    The corner square—'tis but a mere mirage.”
    Anna got to the point:
    “I beg your leave to wed my noble knight.
    The month of Caesar, prime, the full moon's time.”
    Jerzy smiled. “The Seventh Cavalry, no doubt.”
    Anna ignored him. The game was now afoot; she had no wish to end it. She spoke again to Henryk:
    “One boon, my liege, one single boon, I pray.”
    “O what, young wench?”
    “Forsake ius noctis primae, lord, my liege.
    Thereby shalt thou make virtue doubly safe.”
    Marian snickered; not such a naive twenty-year old, after all. Jerzy broke into a belly laugh; Anna feared he might hurt himself. Henryk—the cool, rational Henryk—was he actually blushing?
    As Henryk sat silent, she followed up, pretending to beg:
    “I prithee, lord.”
    He was now trying hard to hold up his end without seeming stiff.
    “I deign to grant the blushing maiden's wish.”
    Turning to Jerzy, Anna continued the game:
    “And thou, bold knight, hast thou a gift for me?”
    Dramatically twisting out his stogie in the ashtray, Jerzy replied:
    “The greatest gift that man can e'er bestow.”
    Anna pressed her luck:
    “Till dread and darkest death between us come?”
    Jerzy responded immediately:
    “Less fast, dear lass, for death t'would be
    The