The Levanter (21 page)

Later that week the survey team moved into the dry-battery works and the land adjoining it.

“What do you think Ghaled will do?” I had asked.

“Nothing at first A few men with theodolites, rods, and measuring chains won’t disturb him much. Wait until the earth-moving starts, though. Then it’ll be different. Heavy machinery all over the place and men to stand guard on it at night! That’ll soon cramp his style.”

But Michael was wrong. The pressure began to work immediately and, while it did not change any of the factors in the equation, it was the means of converting one of the unknown ones into a known.

Michael spent most of that day out at the tile and furniture plants. He did not tell me what he was doing, but I could guess. With the end of the Agence Howell’s Syrian operations just around the corner the more goods he could ship out before the corner was reached the smaller the final write-off would be.

The call from Issa came at four thirty in the afternoon. Issa seemed to be Ghaled’s local chief of staff now as well as works manager, and his tone was peremptory.

“Where is Howell?”

“I don’t know, but I expect him back soon. I can ask him to return your call.”

“No. Give him this message. You will both report here tonight at eight o’clock.”

“Mr. Howell may have made other arrangements.”

“Then he will cancel them. You both report here at eight o’clock. That is an order.”

Michael was thoughtful when I told him.

“You read the directive carefully, Teresa. There was nothing in it about the Agence Howell paying Abouti, was there?”

“Not directly. His costs are to be charged to Green Circle. There’s no way of Issa’s knowing that isn’t the government. No way of Abouti knowing, either. Anyway they would assume it was a government expenditure because of the directive. So would Ghaled.”

“Well, perhaps it isn’t that he wants to see us about.”

But it was.

We were received by Ghaled in Michael’s office and he had a copy of the Ministry directive in front of him. We were not asked to sit down.

Ghaled waved the papers under Michael’s nose. “What do you know of this?” he demanded angrily.

“Of what, Comrade Salah? May I see?”

Ghaled threw the papers at him. Michael retrieved them from the floor and studied them solemnly.

After a moment or two he made a clucking sound.

“Well?”

“I did warn of this possibility, Comrade Salah.”

“And you were at the same time warned to prevent it. Why did you not obey?”

“Even if I had known that this directive was about to be issued, which I did not, there are limits to my powers, Comrade Salah.”

“Limits that you determine.”

“I cannot give orders to the Ministry.”

“You do not have to. The Minister listens to your advice and requests, doesn’t he? Answer me. Doesn’t he?”

“When he has asked me for advice, yes, he listens. About this directive he did not consult me.” Michael peered at it again, his lips moving as if he were having trouble in understanding the words. “It orders a survey to be made of this and the adjacent land in accordance with an earlier policy decision. Your orders, Comrade Salah, were that your headquarters here were not to be disturbed. I cannot believe that a few more men working here during the daytime will disturb you.” As he spoke he turned the page and then gave a theatrical start of surprise. “Ah yes. I see the difficulty.”

“You do, eh?”

“An access road is to be engineered.”

“That is part of the work ordered, yes. What else do you see, Comrade Michael? If you are having trouble reading it, I can tell you. The contractor is empowered to erect temporary buildings for fuel dumps and other purposes, and night-shift work is authorized. The contractor is to work in cooperation with the Der’a police, who will furnish special patrols.”

“This is very bad, Comrade Salah.” Michael looked genuinely shocked.

“It
would
be bad,” said Ghaled, “if any of this work were to be done. Your task is to see that it is not done, or, if it must be done, that the start of it is delayed until the end of June. There must be no inconvenience. You hear me?”

“Yes, Comrade Salah, I hear you.”

If he had left it at that the next half hour might have been less frightening, but Michael could not leave it at that. Having gone to considerable trouble and at least some expense to create a
force majeure
that should have driven any sane leader in Ghaled’s position onto the defensive, he was affronted by Ghaled’s cool dismissal of the threat as no more than an avoidable inconvenience. For once a committee spokesman lost his temper, and none of the rest of the members was quick enough to cover up for him.

“Unfortunately,” he went on nastily, “although I hear, I am not omnipotent, Comrade Salah. Any more than you are. The ability to hear an unrealistic order is no indication that the hearer is capable of carrying it out. I will do what I reasonably can without exciting suspicion. No less, but certainly no more.”

It was a pity that Issa had come into the room while Michael was speaking, to be a witness of this act of insubordination. Even if he had wanted to do so, Ghaled could not have ignored it with Issa there. As it was, Issa gaped, started to say something, then stopped and waited for permission to speak.

He did not get it. Ghaled was staring hard and curiously at Michael, reassessing him. The reassessment made, he looked at me.

“Do you remember the oath you swore?” he asked.

“Of course, Comrade Salah.”

“Do you believe that your employer remembers? Be careful how you answer. Your loyalty here is to me, not to him.”

“Comrade Michael has certainly remembered his oath,” I said. “He has done everything he can to carry out his assigned tasks. In fact, he has seriously neglected his own business in order to do so.”

I knew that Michael was looking at me balefully, but I kept my eyes on Ghaled.

“When did your employer last see Dr. Hawa?”

I was afraid to lie. It was always possible that Ghaled already knew the answer. “A few days ago, in the evening.”

Ghaled looked at Michael again. “And he told you nothing of this directive about which you profess to be so surprised?”

“Our meeting was a social one.” Michael shrugged. “We played backgammon, as a matter of fact. No business was discussed. In any case the issuance of this directive would not have been a subject for discussion. As I said when I first raised the question, the policy decision about this works had already been made.”

“The policy decision which you had been ordered to reverse or modify?”

“The decision which I had hoped to be able to modify. These things cannot be done by edict, not my edict anyway. It is easier to make policy decisions than to reverse or modify them. One needs time. I thought I had time. Obviously I hadn’t enough.” The committee had recovered its composure and was all lined up again behind the managing director. “As for my surprise, I have no reason to profess it. I
am
surprised. The explanation, presumably, is that, since the Agence Howell is not a principal in this affair, it was not thought necessary or appropriate to consult us before issuing the directive.”

Ghaled thought for a moment, then nodded. “Very well. Pending my own inquiries, I will accept your explanation, your excuse for your failure. But” - he leaned forward - ”for your disrespect there can be no excuse.”

“No disrespect was intended, Comrade Salah. I was merely stating the situation as I saw it.”

“So you say now. I warned you before against your arrogance. I also warned you that it would be punished. Did I or didn’t I?”

“You did.”

“Then having ignored my warnings you must be punished. Who are you to question orders, to decide whether or not they are realistic? We must teach you humility, Comrade Michael, the meaning of discipline. The punishment, therefore, must be one that you will remember. Do you find that reasonable and realistic?”

Michael was looking blandly impassive. I tried to, but less successfully.

“
Do
you?” Ghaled persisted.

“That depends on the punishment, Comrade Salah.”

“Yes. Since you have other assigned tasks to complete, an Action Force punishment, the kind that comrades Ahmad and Musa are used to inflicting for lapses in discipline, would - what is the phrase?”

“Defeat their own object, Comrade Salah?”

“Yes.” Ghaled smiled unpleasantly. “So you must not be hurt
too
much, comrade. Perhaps not at all if you are lucky. We shall have to see.” He looked at Issa, who had been listening avidly. “Are you ready for the demonstration?”

“Yes, Comrade Salah. All is prepared.”

“Let us go then.”

Ghaled rose and led the way from Michael’s office, along the passages to the zinc storeroom.

Waiting there was a man I had not seen before. Though neither he nor Michael said anything by way of greeting I saw an exchange of glances which said that they knew one another.

Ghaled addressed him as Comrade Taleb. He was in his thirties, tall and thin with a Nasser moustache and a very clean drip-dry shirt. He wore a tie. When he smiled, showing his teeth, two gold inlays were visible. He was standing behind Ghaled’s trestle table, which had been moved to the centre of the room.

My mind had been running sickeningly on instruments of torture, so that the two objects I saw standing on the table in front of Taleb were, though surprising, also reassuring.

The most prominent was a big clockwork music box of a kind that I had not seen since I was a small child. There had been one like it on a side table in my grandmother’s house in Rome. That one had played four or five different melodies from the operas - arias. This was slightly smaller than the one I remembered and fitted into a battered, black leather carrying case with a purple plush lining; but the box itself was much the same, an oblong casket made of highly polished mahogany with a narrow glass window in the top. Through the window you could see the big metal cylinder with the tiny pins bristling all over it and the long steel comb which sounded the notes. There were levers in front and, at the end, a brass key for winding the clockwork. A worn gold-leaf inscription just visible on the front panel said that this was
La Serinette
made by Gerard Frères of Paris and that the Tonotechnique Design was protected by patents.

Beside
La Serinette
on the table stood, incongruously, a Pakistan International Airlines plastic flight bag.

Ghaled looked with amused interest at the music box.

“Does it still play?” he asked.

“Certainly it plays, Comrade Salah.” Taleb was obviously proud of his work, whatever that was. He touched one of the levers, the cylinder revolved, and the box began to play Mozart’s Minuet in G. After two bars he switched it off.

“We must conserve the spring,” he said.

“Of course. Then let us proceed with the demonstration.”

“Yes, Comrade Salah.”

Taleb reached inside the back flap of the carrying case and pulled something out of the plush lining. It was a narrow strip of metal rather like a steel tape measure and about twenty centimetres long. He left it sticking up in the air above the box. Obviously it was not part of the original
Serinette.

“That is all?”

“That is all, except for the controls, Comrade Salah. The new ones are on what was the musical change lever here. The first stop now deactivates the speed regulator. The second stop allows the cylinder to revolve freely. The third stop engages the clutch which . . .”

Ghaled broke in. “Yes, comrade, we know what the third stop should do. That is what we are to test. Now, Comrade Taleb, I think that this test demonstration would be more convincing if the target were to be moving. Do you not agree?”

“”Moving or stationary, it makes no difference, Comrade Salah.”

“For me,” Ghaled said firmly, “a moving target would provide a much more satisfactory test. And since Comrade Michael has volunteered to assist us ... That is correct, Comrade Michael, isn’t it? You have volunteered?”

“If you say so, Comrade Salah.”

“I
say so.”

“Then I’m glad to be of assistance.”

Michael spoke easily and his apparent calmness clearly irritated Ghaled.

“Let us hope you will continue to be glad,” he snapped and pointed to the airline bag on the table. Pick that up.”

Michael reached out for the bag and his hand was about to touch it when Ghaled spoke again.

“Carefully, comrade. It is not heavy, but handle it as if it were.”

Taleb started to make a protest. “Comrade Salah, we do not know exactly - ”

“No, we do not know exactly,” said Ghaled quickly. “That is why we are making the test.”

“It really is not necessary for the target to move.”

“That is for me to decide.” He turned to Michael, who now had the bag in his hand. “Comrade, you will walk out of here slowly. When you are outside walk in the direction of number one work shed and go past it to the boundary wall. We will follow you as far as the outer door. When you reach the wall, turn and start to walk back toward us, slowly so that we can keep you in sight all the time. You understand?”

“I understand.”

“Then go. Issa, you follow him with your light so that we do not lose sight of him in the shadows. Don’t get too close. Taleb, I will give you the word.”

“Yes, Comrade Salah.”

My heart was thumping and the sweat on my face was ice-cold. I followed them out to the door.

The guards, Ahmad and Musa, had come to see what was going on. Ghaled told them to stand to one side. From the passage just behind Ghaled I could see Michael walking away across the yard with the bag and Issa stalking him with the flashlight. They might have been playing some sort of child’s game.

As he reached the corner of number one work shed Michael stumbled on an uneven patch of ground and Ghaled shouted to him to be more careful. Michael was about a hundred meters away now and nearing the perimeter wall. When he began to turn, Ghaled spoke to Taleb in the storage room behind us.