Year Of The Tiger

They cleared a circle and he scrambled to his feet and faced them. The people looked at him silently, hate in their eyes, and Colonel Li urged his horse forward and said, “No, death would be the easy way out, comrades. We must help him to change. To become like us. To think like us. Is this not so?”

There was a sullen murmur from the crowd and, as Li inclined his head, the cavalrymen herded them away.

Li smiled down at Chavasse. “You see, Paul, without me they would have killed you. I really am your friend after all.”

Chavasse, glaring up at him with hate in his heart, could think of nothing to say.

13

Lying in the darkness, suspended in a sort of limbo, Chavasse was dragged back into the present when the bell started to jangle somewhere inside his head and the cell was illuminated by intermittent flashes of scarlet.

The skin on his face seemed to tighten, and it seemed as if the raw ends of his nerves were being given a series of electric shocks.

He lay there staring up at the ceiling, the bare springs of the iron cot digging painfully into his back, and waited for them to come for him.

He could hear boots on the flagstones of the corridor and then the key grated in the lock. The bolt was thrown back and a shaft of hard white light sliced through the darkness.

Slowly, very slowly, he swung his legs to the floor and got to his feet. There was no one but the little sergeant, and he stood back and motioned Chavasse outside with a quick jerk of his head.

Chavasse moved along the corridor through a curtain of grey shimmering cobwebs, dragging his feet slightly. He’d had nothing to eat for three days and, as he put each foot down upon the flagstones, he seemed to be moving in slow motion.

He was filled with a great calm and he turned and smiled at the sergeant as they reached the end of the corridor and started up the stairs. The sergeant looked at him strangely, and there was something that was almost fear in his eyes.

But why should he be afraid of me, Chavasse asked himself? As he paused outside the familiar door and waited for the sergeant to open it for him, he smiled again.

In the outer office, the smart young woman orderly sat at a desk writing busily. She looked up and nodded and the sergeant opened the inner door and stood back for Chavasse to go in first. Captain Tsen was sitting behind Colonel Li’s desk, and he kept his head down as he studied a typewritten report, completely ignoring Chavasse and the sergeant.

Chavasse didn’t mind in the least. Through the cobwebs, a gaunt and bearded stranger looked out at him from the mirror on the wall. He smiled and the stranger smiled back and behind the stranger was the sergeant standing by the door and there was that look of fear in his eyes again.

But why should he be afraid? The stranger in the mirror frowned as if he too puzzled over the problem and then a great light flamed through the cobwebs, clearing them instantly. There was nothing more they could do to him. That was the only answer. He had won.

Captain Tsen looked up, his face completely devoid of expression. He opened his mouth and his voice sounded far away, as if it came from the other end of a tunnel.

Chavasse smiled politely and Tsen picked up a typewritten document and started to read aloud, and now Chavasse heard every word loud and clear.

“Paul Chavasse, you have been tried by a special court of the Central Committee of intelligence in Peking and found guilty of grave crimes against the People’s Republic.”

There didn’t seem much he could say. There was, of course, the small and obvious point that he had not been present at his trial, but such minor items had little significance in the general scheme of things.

He waited and Tsen carried on:

“It is the sentence of this court that the prisoner be shot to death as soon as may be convenient.”

It was as if a great floodgate had been released, and joy surged through him in a wave of emotion that brought tears to his eyes.

“Thank you,” he said. “Thank you very much.”

Tsen frowned up at him. “You are to be executed. You understand?”

“Perfectly!” Chavasse assured him.

Tsen shrugged. “Very well. Take off your clothes.”

Slowly, with fumbling fingers, he started to strip, and the stranger in the mirror nodded encouragingly and followed suit. As Chavasse dropped his filthy shirt upon the floor, Tsen said to the sergeant, “Examine his clothing. There must be no question of his evading the sentence by committing suicide.”

When Chavasse had finished, he stood in front of the desk, naked as the day he was born, and stared down in wonder at the sergeant, who was kneeling on the floor, examining every article of clothing thoroughly.

Tsen pressed a buzzer on the desk and returned to his report. After a moment, the woman orderly came in. She stood beside the desk, completely ignoring Chavasse, while Tsen spoke to her. She took the papers he gave her, crossed to a large green cabinet and started to file them.

Chavasse stood patiently waiting for the sergeant to finish, and then behind him the door opened and he saw Colonel Li framed in the mirror.

A look of astonishment appeared on Li’s face, then was quickly replaced by what seemed to Chavasse to be genuine anger. He crossed the room in two quick strides and hauled Tsen from his seat.

“You stupid swine!” he snarled. “Hasn’t he suffered enough? Must he be completely humiliated?”

“But I was simply seeing that he had the customary search before execution, Colonel,” Tsen explained. “Central Committee orders are quite explicit and the procedure to be followed is most clearly laid down.”

“Get out of my sight!” Colonel Li shouted. “And take that damned woman with you!”

Captain Tsen and the orderly hurriedly withdrew and the sergeant started to help Chavasse into his clothes.

“I’m sorry about that, Paul,” Li said. “Truly sorry, believe me.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Chavasse told him. “Nothing matters any longer.”

“So Captain Tsen’s told you?”

Chavasse nodded. “I’ve won after all, haven’t I?”

There was genuine sorrow on Li’s face. “I’d have given anything to see this affair turn out differently, Paul, you know that. But it’s no longer my responsibility. You’ve been sentenced to death by the Central Committee, and there’s an end to it.”

“It’s strange,” Chavasse said, “but I feel quite pleased about it. I’m even glad my automatic jammed when it did and I didn’t put a bullet in your head. It gives you time to find out for yourself that you’re wrong. That all of you are wrong.”

Li groaned, got to his feet and crossed to the fire. For a while he stared down into the flames, and then he turned. “If only they’d given me a little more time. Just a few more days. You were close, Paul. Closer than you think.”

Chavasse shook his head and said tranquilly, “Oil and water don’t mix, Colonel. That’s basic chemistry. We’re a million miles apart, now and always.”

Colonel Li slammed one balled fist into his palm. “But we are right, Paul. Our progress is as inexorable as a law of nature. We will win and you will lose.”

“You people never take human beings into account,” Chavasse told him, “and they’re the most variable factor in the universe. Nothing’s certain in this life, not for me or you or anybody.”