In the Presence of Mine Enemies by Harry Turtledove Page B

“Is that what you said when Professor Lutze asked to attend?”
    â€œI didn’t….” Professor Oppenhoff paused, evidently deciding he couldn’t get away with the lie direct. He tried again: “I thought the conference would enhance his professional development, he being—”
    â€œA man?” Susanna finished for him.
    â€œThat is not what I was going to say.” The chairman sounded offended.
    Susanna Weiss was offended. “What were you going to say, then, Herr Doktor Professor? That Professor Lutze isjunior to me? He is. That he has published less than half of what I have? He has. That what he has published is superficial compared to my work? It is, as any specialist will tell you.” She smiled with poisonous sweetness. “There. You see? We agree completely.”
    Professor Oppenhoff tried to draw on the cigar again, but choked on the smoke. Susanna held the poisoned smile till his coughs subsided into wheezes. He wagged a shaky forefinger at her. “You have not the attitude of a proper National Socialist woman,” he said severely.
    â€œDo I have the attitude of a proper National Socialist scholar?” No matter how offended, no matter how angry Susanna was, she took care to throw back the Party’s name as if she were returning a lob in a game of tennis. “Don’t you think that is how you ought to judge me?”
    â€œYou should be turning out babies, not articles,” Oppenhoff said.
    That she remained unwed, that she had no children, was a private grief for Susanna. Her back stiffened. Her private griefs were none of Oppenhoff’s damned business. “If Professor Lutze’s work is good enough to let him deserve to go to London for the Medieval English Association meeting, what part of mine disqualifies me from going, too?” She didn’t say Lutze didn’t deserve to go, no matter what she thought. That would have got her another enemy. Academic politics were nasty enough without trying to make them worse.
    â€œThe travel budget…” the chairman said portentously.
    This time, Susanna’s smile was pure carnivore. “I’ve spoken with the accountants. We have plenty. In fact, they recommend that we spend more before the end of the fiscal year in June. If we have unexpended funds, people are liable to decide we don’t need so much next year.”
    Franz Oppenhoff went gray with horror. A budget cut was every department chairman’s nightmare. He threw his hands in the air. Cigar ash fluttered down onto his desk like snow. “Go to London, Fräulein Doktor Professor Weiss! Go! Uphold the reputation of the university!” Not quite inaudibly, he added, “And get the devil out of my hair.”
    Susanna pretended not to hear that. Having got what she wanted, she could afford to be gracious. “Thank you very much, Professor Oppenhoff. I’ll make my travel arrangements right away.” In fact, she’d already made them. If she hadn’t been able to browbeat Oppenhoff into letting her go, she would have had to cancel. She could easily have afforded the plane ticket and hotel, but she couldn’t have gone during the semester without leave from on high. Now she had it.
    â€œIs there anything else?” Professor Oppenhoff inquired.
    She was tempted to complain that her office was smaller and had a worse view than those of male professors less senior than she—she seldom did things by half. Here, though, she judged she’d pushed the chairman about as far as she could. “Not today, thanks,” she said grandly, like a snooty shopper declining a salesgirl’s assistance. Small, straight nose tilted high, she strode out of Oppenhoff’s office.
    Spring was in the air when she left the east wing of the university complex and walked out into the chestnut grove that lay between the wings. The chestnuts were still bare-branched, but the first leaf buds had begun