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But do not think I carp! Since this is bound to happen, at some point and we all knew it, I, they, everyone, am, are, is, overwhelmed with admiration as usual at the smooth tact of our Chinese Benevolences, such a nice change compared to you-know-who, and what a pity they feel themselves too good to learn useful lessons from our Beneficial Rulers.

Right. So much for the framework, which is not the burden of my information, only the background.

The above-mentioned "informal discussions" went on day and night aided by (moderate) alcohol, (well-tempered) sex, eternal friendships being sworn between Alaskans and Brazilians, South Sea Islanders and Irishmen, lassies from Cape Wrath and denizens of the Cape of Good Hope, everything as usual.

Everything exactly as usual, and as to be expected, all the attitudes being struck that the Benevolences were obviously wanting us to get out of the way before serious discussions could begin: "Never will I bow my head..." "I would die sooner than..." "Do they think they can buy..." etc. and so on ad pukeam. But after a few hours the atmosphere changed, and this is where I rely on your interpretation. Bearing in mind that during this phase our mentors were always discreetly elsewhere, appearing only for meals, charm and friendly likeability personified.

The aforementioned atmosphere. It took me some time to understand what was happening, and then, to believe what was happening. On that very first morning I was with twenty other people, collected together at random, in a former billiard room, transmogrified into a setting for We Shall Not Be Moved! all sitting about casually, at ease, talking on the theme, if-they-imagine-they-can-buy-us, when it came into my mind that everything we were saying could be interpreted differently. On a different level. This seemed so wild that I put it all down to being up until four with Her Amiability from Abyssinia. (No, talking.) After lunch, turnips-and-lucky-to-get-them, I was with another group of about twenty, in another room. We were discussing the possibilities of co-operation with Their Benevolences, when I realised it was happening again, and this time stayed with it, and did not push it away with "but it's impossible!" The atmosphere was remarkable, clear and cool, those are the words I think. Everyone very alert, quick, getting every point, eye contact saying volumes where words did not. Not only I, but everyone realised something peculiar was happening. After all, I had had the advantage of being in on similar occasions with you, when operational. But everyone knew. Each one of us. And yet if the Beneficials had been present, they could have sat through from start to finish and not heard one subversive word.

And so the next three days.

You will not need me to spell it out.

I was always with different associations of people, according to how they formed themselves at the moment when an "informal discussion" was due to begin. Often in different rooms. But it was the same in all the groups. Our three particular friends confirm this: we did discuss it a little, but there was no need to. More and more it happened that after that kind of transparent talk, we would find ourselves sitting silent, for ten, fifteen, twenty minutes at a time. More. An hour once. Nothing said. No need to say a word.

And when we were actually talking, the two levels were unmistakable - clear, so easy to read that it was as if we all suddenly had been taught another language.

Well, while these informal and casual discussions were going on, we of course all came together in the big dining room for meals. At which we all sat in that high calm atmosphere that made us one. And the Chinese could make nothing of it. They kept starting discussions and themes, but after a minute these simply died out. We could see they believed we had got hold of drugs or something like that. We could see that they were beginning to be affected too. They didn't like it. We knew they were meeting to discuss it. Meanwhile, we enjoyed another two days of being by ourselves. There was one session when we - the usual random lot - went into a room, sat down, and not one word was said for the whole morning. There was no need for it. And then the Benevolences changed tactics and at each "informal discussion" each group had a mentor. They did not change what was happening. When we were actually talking, there was nothing to be heard by them that wasn't on one level "sensible." But once or twice there started the long silence, which they broke, out of nervousness.

Right.

End of good tidings.

Beginning of bad tidings.

There we all were, on the sixth day, all so far from our usual silly selves that it made us positively sick to remember them. And then, there appeared at breakfast a man who did not introduce himself, but he just sat there. The Chinese did not know who he was either. That was clear. Though they pretended after first surprise that he was not a surprise. Or at least some of them did. As usual, we were saved by the fact that it is quite impossible to brainwash everyone to the same degree all the time. Some of our mentors were able instantly to put on a good face, offer a united front, but others not. And this was how we knew this particular Benevolence was unknown to them.

But what a creep. Type international technocrat, enough said.

The Bland Man at once introduced himself into one of our discussions, the one I was at, as it happened. He came in smiling. He sat smiling. I tell you, I have long since reached the point that when I see a Certain Smile I wish only to reach for my gun.

The atmosphere was... not the same.

It thickened. We all of us kept starting topics, and in the spirit of the last few days, but anything said fell flat. Literally. That is exactly what happened. Words sent up like kites into the air of expectation guided by the string of concord went clunk. As if shot by an airgun.

Right?

We all sat there struggling to rise again like kites foundering on the hill of disappointment and inability.

Before lunch, I made the rounds and found, as I expected, that all the artefacts you had given me had gone.

At lunch there was a peevish and irritable spirit in the dining room. The Bland One sat there, as at breakfast, by himself.

Again the Chinese were obviously disturbed by his presence, though pretending not. Unmistakable however that emanation: this-is-incorrect-and-I'm-going-to-catch-it-if-I-don't-watch-out, if only because one has been so often conscious of emanating it oneself.

After lunch I did not stay in one room, but went from one group to another. The Smiling One was with a different group from the one he had honoured in the morning.

The atmosphere had gone completely. Drained away. Accurate, no?

Sucked away?

We did not see His Blandness again. That is, he graced our deliberations for exactly one day. The Chinese, when asked, keep repeating, Oh, everything is in order, this was a Visiting Comrade.

Next day, our "informal discussions" were back to normal, the usual brawling jargon-filled idiocies.

Our particular three friends have simply disappeared. They are not here. Did His Malevolence spirit them away? I cannot find out. The Chinese say they will "make enquiries." They are all thoroughly upset by the whole thing.