jamesclavell.noblehouse-第182节

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gence　to　keep　track　of　time　in　the　dark　and　remember　that　your　captors　will　always　make　a　mistake　sometime；　and　if　you　can　catch　the　mistake　you　can　relate　to　time；　and　if　you　can　relate　to　time　then　you　can　keep　in　balance　and　then　you　can　twist　them　and　not　divulge　that　which　must　not　be　divulged　…　exact　names　and　real　contacts。　Pit　your　mind　against　them　was　the　rule。　Keep　active；　force　yourself　to　observe。
　Have　they　made　any　mistakes？　Have　these　devil　barbarian　British　slipped　yet？　Only　once；　he　thought　excitedly。　The　eggs！　The　stupid　British　and　their　eggs　for　breakfast！
　Feeling　better　now　and　wide　awake；　he　eased　off　the　cot　and　groped　his　way　to　the　metal　plate　and　put　the　cup　down　gently　beside　it。　The　eggs　were　cold　and　the　grease　congealed　but　he　chewed　them　and　finished　the　bread　and　felt　a　little　better　for　the　food。　Eating　with　his　fingers　in　darkness　was　strange　and　unfortable　especially　with　nothing　to　wipe　his　fingers　on　except　his　own　nakedness。
　A　shudder　went　through　him。　He　felt　abandoned　and　unclean。　His　bladder　was　unfortable　and　he　felt　his　way　to　the　pail　that　was　attached　to　the　wall。　The　pail　stank。
　With　an　index　finger　he　deftly　measured　the　level　in　the　pail。　It　was　partially　full。　He　emptied　himself　into　it　and　measured　the　new　level。　His　mind　calculated　the　difference。　If　they　haven't　added　to　it　to　confuse　me；　I've　peed　three　or　four　times。　Twice　a　day？　Or　four　times　a　day？
　He　rubbed　his　soiled　finger　against　his　chest　and　that　made　him　feel　dirtier　but　it　was　important　to　use　everything　and　anything　to　keep　balanced　and　time　related。　He　lay　down　again。　Out　of　touch　with　light　or　dark　or　day　or　night　was　nauseating。　A　wave　of　sickness　came　from　his　stomach　but　he　dominated　it　and　forced　himself　to　remember　the　Brian　Kwok　who　they；　the　enemy；　thought　was　Brian　Kar…shun　Kwok　and　not　the　other　man；　the　almost　forgotten　man　whose　parentage　was　Wu；　his　generation　name　Pah　and　his　adult　name　Chu…toy。
　He　remembered　Ning…tok　and　his　father　and　mother　and　being　sent　to　school　to　Hong　Kong　on　his　sixth　birthday；　wanting　to　learn　and　to　grow　up　to　bee　a　patriot　like　his　parents　and　the　uncle　he　had　seen　flogged　to　death　in　his　village　square　for　being　a　patriot。　He　had　learned　from　his　Hong　Kong　relations　that　patriot　and　munist　were　the　same　and　not　enemies　of　the　State。　That　the　Kuomintang　overlords　were　just　as　evil　as　the　foreign　devils　who　had　forced　the　unequal　treaties　on　China；　and　the　only　true　patriot　was　he　who　followed　the　teachings　of　Mao　Tse…tung。　Being　sworn　into　the　first　of　many　secret　Brotherhoods；　working　to　be　the　best　for　the　cause　of　China　and　Mao　which　was　the　cause　of　China；　learning　from　secret　teachers；　knowing　he　was　part　of　the　new　great　wave　of　revolution　that　would　take　back　control　of　China　from　foreign　devils　and　their　lackeys；　and　sweep　them　into　the　sea　forever。
　Winning　that　scholarship！　At　twelve！
　Oh　how　proud　his　secret　teachers　had　been。　Then　going　to　barbarian　lands；　now　perfect　in　their　language　and　safe　against　their　evil　thoughts　and　ways；　going　to　London；　the　capital　of　the　greatest　empire　the　world　has　ever　seen；　knowing　it　was　going　to　be　humbled　and　laid　waste　someday；　but　then　in　1937；　still　in　its　last　flowering。
　Two　years　there。　Hating　the　English　school　and　the　English　boys　。。。　Chinkee　Chinkee　Chinaman　sitting　on　his　tail　。。。　but　hiding　it　and　hiding　his　tears；　his　new　Brotherhood　teachers　helping　him；　guiding　him；　putting　questions　and　answers　into　context；　showing　him　the　wonder　of　dialectic；　of　being　part　of　the　true　real　unquestioned　revolution。　Never　questioning；　never　a　need　to　question。
　Then　the　German　war　and　being　evacuated　with　all　the　other　school　boys　and　girls　to　safety　in　Canada；　all　that　wonderful　time　in　Vancouver；　British　Columbia；　on　the　Pacific　shore；　all　that　immensity；　mountains　and　sea　and　a　thriving　Chinatown　with　good　Ning…tok　cooking　…　and　a　new　branch　of　the　world　Brotherhood　and　more　teachers；　always　someone　wise　to　talk　to；　always　someone　ready　to　explain　and　advise　。。。　not　accepted　by　his　schoolmates　but　still　beating　them　scholastically；　in　the　gym　with　gloves　and　at　their　sports；　being　a　prefect；　playing　cricket　well　and　tennis　well　…　part　of　his　training。　〃Excel；　Chu…toy；　my　son；　excel　and　be　patient　for　the　glory　of　the　Party；　for　the　glory　of　Mao　Tse…tung　who　is　China；〃　the　last　words　his　father　had　said　to　him；　secret　words　engraved　since　he　was　six　…　and　repeated　on　his　deathbed。
　Joining　the　Royal　Canadian　Mounted　Police　had　been　part　of　the　plan。　It　was　easy　to　excel　in　the　RCMP；　assigned　to　Chinatown　and　the　wharves　and　the　byways；　speaking　English　and　Mandarin　and　Cantonese　…　his　Ning…tok　dialect　buried　deep　…　easy　to　bee　a　fine　policeman　in　that　sprawling　beautiful　city　port。　Soon　he　became　unique；　Vancouver's　Chinese　expert；　trusted；　excelling　and　implacably　against　the　crimes　that　the　triad　gangsters　of　Chinatown　fed　off　…　opium；　morphine；　heroin；　prostitution　and　the　ever…constant　illegal　gambling。
　His　work　had　been　mended　by　his　superiors　and　by　Brotherhood　leaders　alike　…　they　equally　against　gang　rule　and　drug　traffic　and　crime；　assisting　him　to　arrest　and　uncover；　their　only　secret　interest　the　inner　workings　of　the　RCMP；　how　the　RCMP　hire　and　fire　and　promote　and　collate　and　investigate　and　watch；　and　who　controls　what；　where　and　how。　Sent　from　Vancouver　to　Ottawa　for　six　months；　loaned　by　a　grateful　chief　of　police　to　assist　in　an　undercover　investigation　of　a　Chinese　drug　ring　there；　making　new　important　Canadian　contacts　and　Brotherhood　contacts；　learning　more　and　more　and　breaking　the　ring　and　getting　promotion。　Easy　to　control　crime　and　get　promotion　if　you　work　and　if　you　have　secret　friends　by　the　hundreds；　with　secret　eyes　everywhere。
　Then　the　war　ending　and　applying　for　a　transfer　for　the　Hong　Kong　Police　…　the　final　part　of　the　plan。
　But　not　wanting　to　go；　not　wanting　to　leave；　loving　Canada；　and　loving　her。　Jeannette。　Jeannette　deBois。　She　was　nineteen；　French…Canadian　from　Montreal；　speaking　French　and　English；　her　parents　French…Canadians　of　many　generations　and　them　liking　him　and　not　disapproving；　not　against　him　because　he　was　the　Chinois；　as　they　jokingly　called　him。　He　was　twenty…one　then；　already　known　as　mandant　material　with　a　great　career　ahead　of　him；　marriage　ahead；　a　year　or　so　ahead　。。。
　Brian　Kwok　shifted　on　the　mattress　in　misery。　His　skin　felt　clammy　and　the　dark　was　pressing　down。　He　closed　his　leaden　eyelids　and　let　his　mind　roam　back　to　her　and　that　time；　that　bad　time　in　his　life。　He　remembered　how　he　had　argued　with　the　Brotherhood；　the　leader；　saying　he　could　serve　better　in　Canada　than　in　Hong　Kong　where　he　would　be　only　one　of　many。　Here　in　Canada　he　was　unique。　In　a　few　years　he　would　be　in　Vancouver's　police　hierarchy。
　But　all　his　arguments　had　failed。　Sadly　he　knew　that　they　were　right。　He　knew　that　if　he　had　stayed；　eventually　he　would　have　gone　over　to　the　other　side；　would　have　broken　with　the　Party。　There　were　too　many　unanswered　questions　now；　thanks　to　reading　RMCQ　reports　on　the　Soviets；　the　KGB；　the　gulags；　too　many　friends；　Canadian　and　Nationalist；　now。　Hong　Kong　and　China　were　remote；　his　past　remote。　Jeannette　was　here；　loving　her　and　their　life；　his　souped…up　car　and　prestige　among　his　peers；　seeing　them　as　equals；　no　longer　barbarians。
　The　leader　had　reminded　him　of　his　past；　that　barbarians　are　only　barbarians；　that　he　was　needed　in　Hong　Kong　where　the　battle　was　just　beginning；　where　Mao　was　still　not　yet　Chairman　Mao；　not　yet　victorious；　still　embattled　with　Chiang　Kai…shek。
　Bitterly　he　had　obeyed；　hating　being　forced；　knowing　he　was　in　their　power　and　obeying　because　of　their　power。　But　then　the　heady　four　years　till　1949；　and　Mao's　incredible；　unbelievable　total　victory。　Then　burrowing　deep　again；　using　his　brilliant　skills　to　fight　the　crime　that　was　anathema　to　him　and　a　disgrace　to　Hong　Kong　and　a　blot　on　the　face　of　China。
　Life　was　very　good　again　now。　He　was　picked　for　high　promotion；　the　British　bound　to　him；　respecting　him　because　he　was　from　a　fine　English　public　school　with　a　fine　upper…class　English　accent　and　an　English　sportsman　like　the　elite　of　the　Empire　before　him。
　And　now　it's　1963　and　I'm　thirty…nine　and　tomorrow　。。。　no；　not　tomorrow；　on　Sunday；　on　Sunday　it's　the　hill　climb　and　on　Saturday　there　are　the　races　and　Noble　Star　…　will　it　be　Noble　Star　or　Gornt's　Pilot　Fish　or　Richard　Kwok's；　no　Richard　Kwang's　Butterscotch　Lass　or　John　Chen's　outsider；　Golden　Lady？　I　think　I'd　put　my　money　on　Golden　Lady　…　every　penny　I　have；　yes；　all　my　life's　savings　and　I'm　also　gambling　the　Porsche　as　well　even　though　that's　stupid　but　I　have　to。　I　have　to　because　Crosse　said　so　and　Robert　agrees　and　they　both　said　I've　got　to　put　up　my　life　as　well　but　Jesus　Christ　now　Golden　Lady's　limping　in　the　paddock　but　the　gamble's　settled　and　now　they're　off　and　running；　e　on　Golden　Lady；　e　on　for　the　love　of　Mao；　don't　mind　the　storm　clouds　and　the　lightning　e　on；　all　my　savings　and　my　life's　riding　on　your　rotten　lousy　god…cursed　oh　Jesus　Chairman　don't　fail　me。　。。。
　He　was　deep　in　dreams　now；　bad　dreams；　drug…assisted　dreams；　and　Happy　Valley　was　the　Valley　of　Death。　His　eyes　did　not　feel　the　lights　e　up　gentl