"These are perilous times. It is not clear that we will survive another year." Sohn said this in a normal tone of voice, like the one normal people used when they talked about normal things-the cost of bus fare, or the price of a movie ticket. "Does that shock you, Inspector? That I should be candid about something so sensitive? But, why? Everybody thinks we're on the edge of the precipice, don't they? Don't you?"
If the man imagined for an instant I was going to answer a question like that, he was crazy. "I'm still waiting to hear what you want," I said, with less humility than Pak had indicated he wanted from me during this session.
Sohn moved so he was standing over me. I tried not to notice his ears. "I know you, Inspector. Believe me, I wouldn't be standing here if I didn't know you inside and out, top to bottom. Your type worries a lot, but you also know how to act when the time comes. This is it-time to act. Things will get worse, maybe a lot worse. Those who cannot take the pain this winter, cannot drag themselves through the final few months, they'll fall by the side of the road. We're better off without them." From the corner of my eye, I saw Pak shift in his chair. "And I'm not talking theory, Inspector. I know what things are like in the provinces. I just got back from there. They are as grim as everything you've heard. They are as grim as our enemies say. This is the fight for survival. But do you know what? We will survive. Despite what everyone thinks, or fears, or hopes-we will survive."
"I hear they're shipping in food, our enemies," I said.
This time it was Pak who coughed. "Get to the point, Sohn."
"The point. Thank you, Chief Inspector. The point is we need more from them, our enemies. More food. More oil. More whatever they are ready to squeeze through the eyedropper they use to measure what they will give. As the inspector just said, they are shipping in food, but we must have more. That's where you come in." He leaned down slightly, so I was looking directly at one of his ears. "You will help us get it, Inspector."
"Me? What if I say no?"
"Ha! That you cannot do. You can't. You can't say yes or no, because no one is asking you to make that choice. You have no choice because there is none. You will carry out this assignment; it is what you are going to do. Period. We are down to the naked essence of existence, reduced to simplicity itself." I thought of Pak's lecture on "essence." He must have heard that line on "essence" somewhere. Maybe it had been in one of those cadre lectures I avoided; maybe it had been the theme in one of those newspaper editorials I never read. Or maybe Pak had regular meetings with Sohn, and this whole conversation today was a charade for my benefit. I looked hard at Pak. No, it wasn't a charade. The memory of amusement had left his eyes. His face was drained.
"This is not an order, Inspector." Sohn wasn't finished talking. He stood up straight again and leaned against Pak's desk. "Let's be as precise as a bayonet through the throat. This goes far beyond an order. It transcends an order. What shall we call it? I know!" He snapped his fingers. "It is an imperative. This is one of those times when the old concepts don't fit. We are past any notions of shirking or obeying. This is about the survival of the nation. Not this country, not this person or that individual, but the nation, our nation. And on that, you have nothing to say. We will survive, and you will make sure of it. Your grandfather ensured we survived; you will do no less. Not one drop less."
"That's it. I don't think I can help you, Sohn." I stood up and opened the door to leave. I didn't think, I just did it. Pak would be furious with me for this sort of insubordination. Who knows what Sohn would do? Anyone who put bayonets and throats together into the same image was tougher than the normal party hack. But if he was going to drag my grandfather into this, as far as I was concerned, the conversation was over. I could deal with hot water. I always had.
"Sit down, Inspector." Pak was no longer subdued. He didn't often issue commands to me, but there was no mistaking his tone. "You'll leave when I give you permission, and I haven't done that. And you"- he turned to Sohn-"you don't come in here and push my staff around. How many times do I have to tell you people to lay off? If there is any semblance of order left in this city, it is thanks to officers like Inspector O."
Sohn took in the surroundings again, four bleak walls and a window looking nowhere. "A little box for little men. Trust me, I'm not here to debate. Day after tomorrow, the inspector leaves on assignment. He's my body until that assignment is over. End of story." He threw a piece of paper on Pak's desk. "This is the order, signed by your minister. I heard you only liked signed orders. Go ahead, look it over."
3
The next day, Pak sat in my office, drumming his fingers on my desk again. Same march of the doomed, if anything at a more somber pace. We hadn't heard anything else from Sohn.
"I still can't even remember what century I'm in, and they want me to jump in an airplane again! How many days since I got back from New York?" I looked out at the empty street.
"Two days. Tomorrow will be three. The century isn't important, as long as you can correctly locate the planet."
"Maybe Sohn has forgotten us."
"Not a chance. He'll be back. Didn't I tell you something big was up?"
"Sure, always something big and important. And when it's not important, it's earthshaking. Trumpets every damned time you turn on the damned radio. Nothing ever says: 'This is beneath your notice, O, don't concern yourself with it.' I'm so low in the food chain, I'm expected to vibrate to everything." I sat down and put my ear to the top of my desk. "Wait! I hear far-off rumbles."
Pak stopped drumming. "Quit kidding around."
"Who's kidding?" I put my ear against the desk again. "Let's make it eight hundred kilometers to the west."
Pak motioned for me to get up and shut the door. There was no one else around, but shutting the door had become a ritual that Pak was reluctant to give up. "How did you find out?" He didn't want to know, but felt obliged to ask.
"I vibrate, remember?"
"Go on."
"There was a defector in Beijing a few days ago. High level. Very, very high level. Am I right?"
Pak gave me a noncommittal look. "Whatever happened, if anything happened, will be reported to us, all in due time, in proper channels, with proper vibrations, I'm sure. Someone just has to figure out the angle. This is bad, but it is good, precisely because it is bad. Things are less dangerous, and that means they're more dangerous. That sort of thing."
I continued. "This morning, on my way to the office, I stopped at District Headquarters. After my trip, I figured I should look in and say hello. I saw a lot of nervous people running around covering their hindquarters, erasing signs that they were ever in the same room with this defector person. I barely got over here and settled with my feet on my desk when I started receiving a lot of nervous phone calls from people who wouldn't tell me why they wanted to know what they wanted to know. The question that naturally occurs to me is, what does it have to do with us? I never saw the man."
"A party secretary who defects," Pak said, "cannot but have something to do with us. How can you be so sure you never saw him? Did he ever drive through your sector?"
"I'd guess he probably did. It's hard to get anywhere in the city without going through my sector."
"Did he ever meet with anyone, talk to anyone, smile at anyone, nod to anyone while he was passing through your sector?"
"How should I know? I don't follow people at his level. That's State Security's job, if they ever wake up long enough to look at their daily operational packet. It's not my worry."
"Well, of course, these things are beneath you, O. By no means should you worry about them. Keep on not worrying until someone comes a-knockin' to find out what you know, or don't know. And someone will. Soon. They always do. This… situation… has rattled a lot of expensive teeth. At the Ministry last night I heard most of the special squad was sent in a hurry to Beijing. Of course, they made things worse. Bunch of thugs standing around the streets. Did they think he'd change his mind and come back home after he looked out the window and saw their ugly faces? Speaking of ugly, I wonder if your friend Mun tagged along with them. Maybe he'll be back to question you."