In the Presence of Mine Enemies by Harry Turtledove Page B

brought it in to Dr. Dambach.
    â€œJust set it on the desk, please,” he said without looking up from the medical book he was going through. Only his left hand and his mouth gave the food any notice; the rest of his attention was riveted on the book. Esther thought she could have substituted a coffee cake or plain bread without his knowing the difference.
    She was eating her own lunch, ready to go home as soonas the afternoon receptionist came in, when Dambach exclaimed in what might as easily have been dismay as triumph. “What is it, Doctor?” she called.
    â€œI know what Paul Klein has,” Dr. Dambach said.
    Esther still couldn’t tell how he felt about knowing. She asked, “Well, what is it, then?”
    He came out of the office, a half forgotten slice of the cheese pie still in his left hand. His face said more than his voice had; he looked thoroughly grim. “It’s an obscure syndrome called Tay-Sachs disease, I’m afraid,” he answered. “Along with the rest of his condition, the red spots on his retinas nail down the diagnosis.”
    â€œI never heard of it,” Esther said.
    â€œI wish I hadn’t.” Now the pediatrician sounded as unhappy as he looked.
    â€œWhy?” she asked. “What is it? What does it do?”
    â€œThere is an enzyme called Hexosaminidase A. Babies with Tay-Sachs disease are born without the ability to form it. Without it, lipids accumulate abnormally in the cells, and especially in the nerve cells of the brain. The disease destroys brain function a little at a time. I will not speak of symptoms, but eventually the child is blind, mentally retarded, paralyzed, and unresponsive to anything around it.”
    â€œOh, my God! How horrible!” Esther’s stomach did a slow lurch. She wished she hadn’t eaten. “What can you do? Is there a cure?”
    â€œI can do nothing. No one can do anything.” Dr. Dambach’s voice was hard and flat. “There is no cure. All children who have Tay-Sachs disease will die, usually before they turn five. I intend to recommend to the Kleins that they take the baby to a Reichs Mercy Center, to spare it this inevitable suffering. Then I intend to go out and get drunk.”
    He couldn’t bring himself to come right out and talk about killing a baby, though that was what he meant. The Germans who’d slaughtered Jews hadn’t talked straight out about what they were doing, either, though people weren’t so shy about it any more. Here, Esther had more sympathy. “How awful for you,” she said. “And how muchworse for the Kleins! What causes this horrible disease? Could they have done anything to keep the baby from getting it?”
    Dr. Dambach shook his head. “No. Nothing. It’s genetic. If both parents carry the recessive, and if the two recessives come together…” He spread his hands. Even that gesture didn’t remind him of the cheese pie he was holding. Intent on his own thoughts, he went on, “We don’t see the disease very often these days. I have never seen it before, thank heaven, and I hope I never see it again. The books say it used to be fairly common among the Jews, though, before we cleaned them out…. Are you all right, Frau Stutzman?”
    â€œYes, I think so. This is all just so—so dreadful.” Esther made herself nod. Dambach nodded back, accepting what she’d said. He couldn’t know why her heart had skipped a beat. A good thing, too. He couldn’t come out and talk about killing a baby, but he took the extermination of the Jews for granted. Why not? He hadn’t even been born when it happened.
    â€œDreadful, ja . A very unfortunate coincidence. Even among the Jews it was not common, you understand, but it was up to a hundred times more common among them than it is among Aryans.” Dambach thoughtfully rubbed his chin. “Did you happen to see on the news a few days