THE LAST GOOD WAR: A Novel by Paul Wonnacott Page B

for the battlefield. Because of their size, they would be the first to be killed. Kaz wanted to agree, but thought it might be unsoldierly to do so. He offered a consolation: within the coming decade, most horses would be replaced by tanks as the main weapon for thrusts through the enemy's lines.
    Anna was surprised to find herself asking about tanks, a topic in which she had absolutely no interest. The Germans and French had the best new ones, Kaz said. The difficulty was that Poland did not have the heavy industry to produce tanks, and were unable to buy new models from the French or even the British. Those two countries had begun a feverish buildup of their own. He then turned the conversation to a more interesting subject, Anna.
    “I understand you're a student at Poznan University.”
    “Well, yes and no.”
    Kaz raised an eyebrow.
    “I was a student. I gave up my course work when I became involved in a research project—on weather forecasting.”
    “Ah, then that would explain how you could get away to Warsaw at this time of the year.”
    “Yes, we've had a very intense summer. I needed a break.”
    “Intense? Weather forecasting? I would have thought it was a timeless topic—to be approached in a methodical, unhurried way.” Kaz wanted to bite his tongue. He wished it hadn't come out quite that way; he hoped she wouldn't be offended.
    “Actually, it is urgent. The Air Force needs better forecasts. Short-range planes can get stuck up in the air, unable to land because of thunderstorms. Running out of gas.”
    “I see your point. That would be dangerous.”
    “Not to speak of embarrassing.” Anna smirked.
    “And you've been working on...?”
    “Studying weather balloons. We fill them with hydrogen so they rise rapidly. Above 4,000 meters, they often change direction as they encounter upper-atmosphere winds. Those currents help us predict the movements of weather fronts.”
    “You've been...?”
    Anna took a deep breath; she normally hid her interest in calculus when talking to young men. Or men of any age, for that matter.
    “I've been working on a mathematical model of upper-atmosphere air currents.”
    “Really?”
    Anna was even more surprised; he seemed interested in the details. Now, she appreciated Jerzy's enthusiasm for his hobby. She also was grateful for the equations she had scribbled in her notebook, following Marian's recent instructions to disguise any notes she might make on Enigma.
    She reached over the coffee table for a napkin, and scratched down an equation of the vertical velocity of balloons, how they slowed down as the air got thinner, and how the upward velocity depended on the elasticity of the balloon.
    He still seemed interested. Apparently, he had at least a smattering of calculus. She wrote down a second equation—the horizontal acceleration of balloons as they hit upper-air currents.
    “Impressive. You're really comfortable with calculus.”
    “And I'm pleased—a cavalry officer is interested.”
    He put his hand on the sofa. Near Anna's, but not quite touching.
    “Well, actually, my interest doesn't come from the cavalry.”
    Anna waited, hoping he would elaborate.
    “When I was in high school, I loved math. In fact, I wanted to go to university to study engineering.... But things didn't work out.”
    Again she was curious, hoping he would provide details. He did.
    “My family—my father—wouldn't hear of it. I come from a line of military officers. My grandfather was a general, my father a colonel. His heart was set on my continuing the family tradition.... I'm afraid we had a few, ah, mmm... disagreements. But then we compromised....” His voice trailed off.
    “Compromised?” Anna didn't want to state the obvious: some compromise, off to the military academy. But then, of course, the father did have a hold over his son. He was the one who would pay for university.
    “I would go to the academy for one year. If my heart were still set on math, I could transfer to