THE CAMERA AND THE GUN

               Chapter I

               "Oh -- oh!" I said.

               From the sidewalk across the street, from the store next to 
               me, from a car screeching to a stop, and from behind Nicola -- 
               as she pleaded for me to do something for her -- the police 
               were rushing at me; warming up their brutality by stomping 
               their boots against the ground.

               A civilian's car skidded to a stop in front of me, and in 
               the race to be the first to arrest me, a cop jumped on the 
               engine hood of that car, which blocked his way, and leaped on 
               top of my body. He crumpled me to the pavement and into a 
               ragged baseboard of a store front. The officer crushed my chest 
               then quickly thrust my face onto a loose nail. The other 
               cops pulled him away from me then ripped me off the nail.

               I screamed and grabbed my blood-spurting face. I could see 
               hands all over me pushing metal things onto my wrists and 
               clubbing me with solid rubber. Eventually I felt my gushing 
               cheek pressed against the engine hood, the grit of a sandy 
               boot print came through my cheek and mixed with the blood 
               swirling on my floundering tongue. Slowly I realized that 
               the heat of the sun-baked hood was going to cauterize the gash in my 
               cheek and a side of my face with it. I tried to lift my face 
               but a hand pushed it back down.

               The cops started to yell at each other but I couldn't hear 
               well while one ear was sucking blood and a hand 
               was pushing the other ear closer to it. The hand came off my 
               ear and an argument became clear.

               "Get your hands off that man!"

               "He's a god damn suspect!"

               "And that's all!"

               "Listen he's mine! I got him first!  These are my hand-cuffs -- 
               see."

               "Do you want to trash all your work on this case by the way 
               you're handling this?"

               "Okay, but get your hands off this one."

               The one cop that was holding me down lifted me off the car 
               by my arms, they were cuffed behind my back, and jerked me 
               around while he held the cuffs as high as he could without 
               causing me to flip over. The car door opened and he kicked 
               me into it, I hit my shins on the step. He followed right 
               behind me to sit me up to reduce his cleaning costs for the 
               newly stained back seat. I kept my mouth hanging open while 
               I ventilated anything I could. I sensed 
               the pain was going to get worse in a few seconds from

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                                                                         2.


               that point. I felt with my tongue for the gash in my cheek 
               to assess the damage as we drove away. My teeth were fine 
               but the hole was huge. A last 
               search for Nicola gave me an image of her willfully getting 
               into the car of another police officer, a jolly one.

               "God help me -- stop the pain -- stop it!" The blood was 
               tickling my chin as it dripped off and I tried to concentrate 
               on that frustrating tickle to avoid imaging my new ruby lips 
               that hung off my cheek.

               The cop next to me grabbed me by the hair and said, "Look 
               what I found in your back pockets when I had you down. Looks 
               like you're into the crystal a bit too often -- here want 
               some -- hey gimme your tea." The cop driving gave the one 
               beside me a cup of tea. "Here, I'll make you feel better - 
               nothin' like doin' a little divine intervention on my way 
               home from work." He dunked the rolled wad of pamphlets into 
               the tea and spilled the overflow on his pants. He swore at 
               himself and sat waiting -- presumably for the crystal to 
               dissolve.

               One cop continued to talk, "You've got a hell of a  lot of 
               money in your pockets. You know -- someone might get the idea 
               you were going somewhere. Not me though. I don't fool around 
               on spec. I'm a facts man. I can see the facts so I don't 
               need to spec. And you know what the facts are here -- I've 
               got a guy sitting in back of me messing up this clean car -- 
               take your drink." He pulled my head back and poured it in my 
               mouth. "You know I've been after you for the last two years -- 
               I had you long before the other..."

               'What did he say?'

               "Those idiots trying to protect you back there don't know a  
               crime from an accident -- basically their heads from their 
               asses. Okay, I'm settled down now. I just want you to know 
               before you get too happy I've got an eye-witness that saw 
               you do it and knows your name. You know..."

               'What the hell is he talking about -- he can't mean me?'

               I spoke trying not to move my mouth, "Wha'th ny nane?"

               The cop laughed a little, "Your name? Let's see ...this week 
               it's Bernard."

               I blinked over and over thinking of what he could be talking 
               about. I forgot my cheek and noticed that my hands were 
               tingling from lack of blood getting past the cuffs, but soon 
               I forgot that too and could only sense things in general; 
               where I was, the crusting of the blood on my chin, the bad 
               shave on the driver and the honesty of the man sitting beside 
               me. But it was not the time to let things drift on like they 
               were. My view was coming back. I needed to have the certainty 
               I had missed for the last while. I needed it badly and the 
               moment was not allowing me that kind of certainty. There was 
               no way my new slogan applied anymore, 'Truth, Justice...'crap.

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                                                                         3.


               It was time to fall back on the one thing that I had abandoned - 
               abandoned before I realized fully the power I could wield 
               with it, my own self. I married myself. That is what it must 
               have been. I just could see nothing to equal the certainty 
               of being a god to myself.

               The cop beside me - something was mistaken in his information 
               about me. He had my correct name...I know I had done something 
               illegal ... but he said that for two years he was after me: 
               what did I do two years before?... I did nothing. If doing 
               nothing is a crime some kind of revolution in thinking had 
               taken place recently. This must have been the mistake, they 
               must have arrested the wrong person. But they found an eye 
               witness that knew my name, what the cop called this week's 
               name; the name I have had all my life suddenly breaks the 
               case for the good guys! Where did this witness come from and 
               what did it see me do?

               The city had darkened and the street lights were flashing in 
               the eyes of my sinking head as we travelled on the momentum 
               of this endless ride.

               "Hey, wake up Mr. Kimosa. Wake up!" I sensed a friend -- what 
               was her name?

               "I've closed the cut in your cheek and there should only be 
               a small scar in a few weeks. We took pictures of it for you."

               I looked at her and realized that I didn't know her.

               "If you're interested in making a complaint against the 
               arresting officers I'll call in The Civilian Complaints 
               Commission investigators."

               I nodded faintly, 'No'.

               "Hey Rady, he doesn't want them. Forget it will you?"

               I saw where I was then; in a clinic under arrest with two 
               cops to watch me. The bright lights bothered my sight and I 
               was still drowsy. Very quickly though I remembered the 
               question I needed to ask, "What am I charged with?" The pain 
               in my face was still there but my question came out.

               "You're charged with setting fire to an apartment building,"  
               she had leaned over me and her breath stank of garlic.

               "That was only a few days ago. And I didn't even do it."

               "If you want to talk about your case I think you should wait 
               for your lawyer."

               I lay back my head in frustration, peering around the room 
               for something to relax me. The smell of the medicines began 
               to relieve me of the garlic hell, and that helped, but I sat 
               up just for something to do. The cops came over to me, 
               carefully placed handcuffs on my wrists and asked me if I 
               was ready to go. I said I was and they gently lifted me off

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                                                                         4.


               the examination table to the floor and helped me walk out of 
               the room.

               The corridors were long and frightened me. It was the first 
               time I had been in a prison. The slamming doors reverberating 
               from the far end of the building held firm my deepening sense 
               that nothing was going to solve my problems. Finally the 
               kindness of, what were, the guards took from me my last desire to fight 
               for my survival. But at that second when I could see nothing 
               to take me away from my ultimate hopeless state, curiosity 
               became the hidden residue of my will to live. 'How am I going 
               to get off these charges?' and as though I was in a soap opera 
               I asked myself, 'will I ever have the control over my life 
               that I've only recently discovered is my aim in life?' My 
               instincts came back -- I was ready to try anything to get out 
               of that place.

               I was placed in a holding cell where I found a seat and someone 
               to talk to, but I think she found me, "Are you been arrested 
               for first time?"

               "Yeah."

               "Me too, Please tell me, are you nice?"

               "Yes."

               "That is very good, because I very scared of here and other 
               people and people that come here before."

               "That's good."

               "You know that they say? I steal big tableau from store at 
               night."

               I laughed, "A tableau? Do you mean a display in a store 
               window?"

               "No store window just a tableau with four legs that you eat 
               with."

               "Do you mean a table?"

               "Oh yes - yes, I guess so."

               'Sounds a little ridiculous.' I began to wonder about that 
               place. But I could see that her story was something to use 
               to get me out. I just needed to stand a little too close to 
               her and my arrest might look just as ridiculous.

               I asked her about the details; who arrested her and the 
               circumstances of her arrest.

               She told me that she was arrested at home while having dinner 
               with her family. Also that the officers had a warrant and 
               were very kind to her. Her fascination for the officers' 
               etiquette and hygiene side-tracked her story on to the details 
               of one of the officer's manicure and how things like that

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                                                                         5.


               should be done. At one point she said, "They should no chance 
               be give the right to wear moustache. The food go up there 
               and grow."

               Although I told her I believed her story, she kept insisting 
               that she told the truth. I started working out how I could 
               tie myself to her. I knew they had evidence against me. They 
               wouldn't just disregard it. I'd need to advocate her cause 
               in the spirit of casual selflessness. I would, in the process 
               of being interrogated, just mention her case in a weak and 
               humble manner; splicing my story with it at the most 
               appropriate parts. A perfectly tenuous plan.

               It was my life I was guarding so I continued to work on the 
               plan while I sat beside the woman and asked, "What 
               ...is...your...name?"

               "Beth."

               'So her name is Beth. I wonder why she talks strangely?' I 
               didn't want to be rude so I didn't ask.

               Two cops came into the holding cell and were evidentially 
               looking for me. They found me after consulting a photograph 
               one carried -- a procedure which seemed familiar to me. They waved me to come to them.

               To make sure they were introduced to the idea of Beth I leaned 
               over to chat with her. I tried to encourage her, "Don't worry 
               about your case I'll help you. I'll make sure they know you 
               didn't take the table. Okay?"

               "Why do such thing?"

               "Because I want to help you."

               "But the table mine."

               "You took the table?"

               "Yes, but they say I steal. It mine if I wanted it."

               "If you want it it's yours?"

               "Yes, it sat on the floor so long and I watch it. Then I 
               claim it before other did. That the way of my country."

               I blinked.

               Two guards took my arms and pulled me away from her. They 
               led me out of the cell and into the corridor. They led me 
               and I knew that was all I could do for myself, I was out of 
               ideas.

               "Mister Bernard? Is that your name?" said the cop holding my 
               right side.

               "..Yes?" I stammered.

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                                                                         6.


               "Could you please stand up on your own now? We're getting a 
               little tired of dragging you around."

               "Of course."

               "I think you'll be happy to hear that the charges against 
               you were dropped. The witness, it seems, made a mistake and 
               has identified someone else in the second I'D  lineup.

               I closed my eyes and smiled.

               The guard went on, "The press was told we had 
               caught the police killer, so we'd like it if you kept away from 
               the papers. It could be embarrassing for us you understand. 
               Now there's a woman waiting outside for you. Come."

               Whatever it was I was arrested for, whether for arson or cop 
               killing, I wasn't going to question them while my cell door 
               was being held open. The guards led me out the last gate and 
               there was Julie across the waiting room. She moved toward 
               me, I didn't know if she was going to react first to my 
               wedding or to my arrest. I looked past her stoic expression 
               into her eyes, into a moment of decision. She chose tears. 
               She said, "I'm glad your arrest was just a mistake." she 
               walked away from me and led me to the exit.

               She stopped on the other side of the exit under an arcade as 
               rain splattered off the pavement in front of us. "I offered 
               the police all kinds of personal testimony to say you couldn't 
               have killed a police officer -- but now explain what happened to 
               Zinta!" Tears flowed down her cheeks, "I know you were at 
               that wedding business when it happened -- Zinta must have 
               decided not to come to it? Right? She must have just had the 
               bad luck to be home at the wrong time? Right?" Julie held up 
               her head and took a quivering breath while she watched me 
               agree with several nods. She continued, "I'm asking you, 
               Bernard, I saw you come to that wedding-thing in shorts 
               without anyone to marry but yourself; you looked like the 
               world had beaten a path over...whatever - I'm not in the 
               mood for my sayings -  I just want to hear you say that you 
               didn't have anything to do with Zinta's death. Promise me!"

               "I didn't! I really didn't!"

               "You were a mad man at that wedding-thing!"

               "Honestly! I didn't!"

               I was getting the feeling again that I had just before I was 
               arrested of being circled and watched, then I saw from the 
               corner of my eye that two women were sitting in a car looking 
               at me.

               Julie lamented out loud, "Zinta's dead!"

               I couldn't believe it. "Is Zinta dead?"

               "Didn't they tell you?"

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                                                                         7.


               I looked down in shock, "Oh yeah! Of course they did. I wasn't 
               paying close attention to you -- sorry."

               Julie touched my arm with both hands to get my attention 
               again and I looked at her. God, she was overweight. But I was 
               just being superficial, if I learned anything in the days 
               past, it was the more beautiful they are the more they betray 
               you.

               Julie continued, "All of a sudden I don't believe you, 
               Bernard. Zinta told me once how good you were at convincing 
               yourself of something that would be completely wrong just so 
               you could get your promotion to manager at work. Zinta said -- 
               I don't know if I can remember all the details -- she said 
               something like you made up some fantastic incident about 
               cadet training; that you fixed an officer's disconnected 
               shoulder.

               "I did do that."

               "She was in your battalion. Wouldn't she know?"

               "She wasn't in my squad."

               Julie dismissed the direction of the argument with a wave of 
               her hand and returned to her problem, "I've always known you 
               to be a good person but Zinta's dead; and I can't help 
               thinking that no matter how good I think you are, I could be 
               wrong. I can't believe I'm saying this to you Bernard. But I 
               couldn't believe it was you at that wedding either. Bernard, 
               I'm trying to tell you -- I came here now because I thought I 
               should help you, but from now on I don't think I can deal 
               with you. Just, from now on don't call me. This is a bad 
               time for me and I'm going to need time to work it all out." 
               She took a step backwards and slapped my arm in the same 
               motion, then opened an umbrella and concluded our business. 
               "I have to go. Make sure you take care of yourself and don't 
               let those stitches on your cheek get infected."

               She walked into the rain angling her umbrella against the 
               gusts and like a hippo on a high wire she walked between the 
               puddles until she was in her car. She drove out of the lot 
               without waving to me.

               I looked at how thickly the rain was coming down and I decided 
               to wait until it let up. It splashed across to my legs and 
               on my shoes and I noticed that my shoes were dirty. With my 
               fingernail I scratched off some dirt on one then lifted my 
               shoe far enough to look at the sole to see if a stone had 
               been stuck between the treads.

               "Mr. Kimosa?"

               I was forced to look out again.

               A middle age woman was staring at me while shaking out her 
               wet umbrella. I looked past the woman to the car I had seen 
               earlier, it had just one occupant left, the driver, and she

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                                                                         8.


               was nodding to me. The woman in front of me was definitely 
               the missing one.

               "I'm pleased to meet you, I'm Susan. I'm from the post office 
               and I'm here to take you to work." She shook my hand as the 
               other woman drove the car up to us. Susan opened up the umbrella 
               again and handed it to me. Then she led me to the car, letting 
               herself get wet.

               In the car the other woman introduced herself as Betty while 
               she one-handed the steering wheel and took the car around a 
               traffic jam and on to the 401 eastbound.

               I had something to be pleased about at that point so I woke 
               up and thanked the two of them for being so kind: Earlier, I 
               had completely forgotten about my new job and I was happy to 
               find that the Post Office had not forgotten me.

               Susan turned to me and said, "I hope you don't mind that 
               we're the ones that had you arrested."

               Somehow I didn't hear her.

               She repeated herself, "We had you arrested. You see, there 
               was a mix up in our ranks and you should have been taken 
               directly into the Post Office network once you were hired. 
               Then we found out that you were returning to those scam 
               artists in Nedston -- that was a disaster at first. You see 
               we have an ongoing problem with them that we're about to 
               eliminate and your association with them made us doubt your 
               reliability and worry that you might jeopardize our project. 
               That is when we called the police. Your dispute with them 
               just before you were arrested saved  you. We were thinking of 
               leaving you in jail. I mean, you did set your building on 
               fire, correct?"

               "I didn't!"

               "We don't mind that you did. It's just another qualification 
               on your record. Sometimes it takes great moral courage to 
               trade off one good against another, even if it is the 
               greater good. Before you feel you need to deny it further 
               let me say that you have nothing to worry about. You have 
               been selected to serve with the Red and Whites ... Since you 
               don't seem to be familiar with the name let me just say that 
               we're here to let you continue protecting and serving your 
               country. But with the backing of our apparatus you'll be 
               able to succeed where you have failed before."

               I kept on wondering what she was talking about and how  
               delivering the mail would do all this.

               We turned off the 401 onto the Don Valley Parkway heading 
               downtown. I recalled the time that I had told the Rector 
               that the Parkway was where my parents had died the day before 
               I talked to him. I wondered what these Red and Whites thought 
               I was, so I asked Susan.

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                                                                         9.


               She said, "I have your record if you want to read it 
               yourself."

               She handed me a printout with a halo-photo of me on the top. 
               The general information was accurate even up to 'In process 
               of address change.' Then it read better then I remembered my 
               own life.

               "Lived in Rosedale with parents until both his mother and 
               father were murdered. He was five. The court awarded custody 
               of Bernard to Bernard's first choice as guardian, his 
               neighbours, the Dewar family. Zinta Dewar, ten years old at 
               the time and the only daughter of her family, became his 
               friend. After several mock weddings by his twelfth birthday, 
               they were secretly sleeping together.

"                I couldn't recall how it was possible for them to know what 
               Zinta and I had been doing at that age. Or why it mattered.

               As I read further along in this account of my life there 
               were more and more anecdotes about Zinta and I, about Mr. Dewar 
               and I, and what I did when I was called up into the cadets. 
               The cadet stories were the most detailed.

               "February seventh, Corporal Kimosa accepts Major Leclere's 
               personal challenge. On a throw to the mat, Bernard dislocates 
               the Major's shoulder and wins a conceded victory. Bernard 
               refuses the win until the Major admits that it was wrong to 
               criticize the Government.

"               If Julie could have seen the record I was reading I would 
               have shown her that I did fix an officer's dislocated 
               shoulder, despite what Zinta thought. The record started to 
               look less like a good indication of what my life was like 
               when I read up on the more recent events. It did talk about Zinta 
               and I moving in together and our friendship with Julie during 
               the last few years. It also mentioned Zinta's pursuit of art 
               and about our arguments. However, it had the same false 
               criminal records that I had seen on the Revenue Canada files. 
               One other thing that bothered me on that record was a statement 
               that Zinta would often tell my friends and acquaintances  
               not to mention my parents and not to pursue the topic even 
               if I wanted to. No reason was given. Finally it stated without 
               hesitation that I had set fire to my apartment and that I 
               did it to kill the editor of a newspaper. It said that Zinta 
               and I had moved out the day before on October 2 into another 
               flat. The whole thing ended by classifying me as a candidate 
               for the Red and Whites as a group A, whatever that meant.

               We had reached the end of the Don Valley Parkway and I handed 
               back the record to Susan. I wondered who these two women 
               were. They must have been under the impression that I was a 
               violent person and that I could help their Red and Whites in 
               some kind of violent pursuit or project. And it was a 'project' 
               she called it when she mentioned the Rubes. Violence in my 
               fabricated record was the only distinguishing factor that 
               could have attracted them to me. I had to ask some questions

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                                                                        10.


               but we arrived at our destination -- the same Federal building 
               on Front St. where I had been hired by the Post Office.

               They drove into an underground parking lot. We left the car, 
               and the two women took me through a narrow corridor to a 
               solid wall. It was actually a giant door and it seemed to be 
               ready for nuclear and biological warfare. The entrance that Susan took 
               me through had two security doors and, inside, the corridors 
               were so long I could not tell if in the distance it was a man or woman I was 
               looking at.

               Susan led me a few feet into the first office  
               where she greeted a man with a formal kiss, hug and 
               conversation that showed me that they were in the cadets or 
               army together. I was introduced as the one they had 
               been looking for.

               "Bernard, it is very good to meet you," the man said 
               reservedly. "Today I will show you your office and your task 
               here. If you don't mind there is just one little job for you 
               to do before quitting time. Come this way."

               Susan waved good-bye to me and said good-bye to the man, 
               using the name Bill before exiting through the security doors.

               Bill lead me then, although not with much excitement. I 
               followed him to an office and he told me it would be mine 
               from that point on. It had a good computer, the best equipment that 
               I'd ever been offered to use. He invited me to try my chair, 
               which I did. He moved back and sat on the edge of my desk.

               "I'm sorry about the hole in your cheek," said Bill. "I know 
               the cop that did that to you and he wants you to accept his 
               apologies. He had no idea that we wanted you."

               "Sure," I said.

               Bill smiled and slapped my shoulder.

               He continued, "You've been a good guy to put up with all 
               this without whimpering about why you should; here, I'll 
               tell you. Ah...to begin with my name is Bill. A fellow named 
               Perry and myself have been running the Red and Whites for 
               seventeen years. To be straight up about it -- the Red and Whites 
               clean up the country. We do the work that the government's 
               are too timid to touch. It was once made up mostly of cops but 
               now more than half are civilians. But what we do is still 
               mostly cop work; stopping the bad guy as always. We just 
               don't hesitate to do whatever it takes to get the job done. 
               That's where a civilian like you is important. Your military 
               record shows you're committed to fighting for Canada and 
               keeping it at its best. You're a good fellow! You must realize 
               how, as a civilian, you can do more than an ordinary cop."

               "Yeah," I claimed.

               "You're a group A and that means you don't have curfew but 
               you will have the most difficult tasks. We have only two

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                                                                        11.


               days before your first critical assignment. The training 
               should start immediately."

               Bill changed his attitude and became harder with me as he 
               leaned over my keyboard and typed, "This is what a reporter 
               named James Atkin is typing into his computer. See, it's 
               regarding the referendum. He specializes in national politics. 
               We can access any reporter's terminal and change work in 
               progress - to remind them of who's in charge, or we just change 
               it before it goes to bed."

               I was only a little familiar with what he was asking me.

               "All the instructions and codes are in your library here so 
               you won't have any questions. Will you?" Bill rounded off 
               his last word  in an unanswerable way.

               He went on, "This reporter,  Atkin, had done a good job 
               to this point. Excepting one attribute, he's obviously on 
               the side of good. You can't believe a thing he writes before 
               the editing. Stick it to him and change something 
               to make it more credible."

               "Won't we get into trouble for doing this?" I asked.

               "Take my word for it, we won't."

               Under pressure to perform, I started to work by taking a 
               copy of the article in progress onto the second screen of 
               the terminal and rewrote it, changing the reference to a 
               source to an inference of a source. I asked Bill if that was 
               what he had in mind.

               "Exactly. The source was lousy! Only make the inference more 
               credible and motivated by your desire to protect your 
               sources."

               I did what he asked and was ready to insert it into the place 
               of the old paragraph.

               "Well, don't wait for me to decide, you're on your own now. 
               Just weigh your actions in terms of our public relations 
               effort."

               I had no intention of disrupting that operation but I wasn't 
               sure what to do. I seemed to have a natural gift for this 
               type of job, whatever job it was -- public relations? I was 
               puzzled by the whole set-up of this place. I never made a 
               habit of reading the newspapers before but I did know that 
               this was not what papers were supposed to be, with outside 
               people interfering in the content of the stories.

               "Bill," I asked, "maybe you might give me some tips. Do you 
               think?"

               "All right. There's a handbook in the library, take a look 
               at it right off, it's called The Context Rules; it's a great 
               book. There's only a few ideas that you need to remember

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                                                                        12.


               from it. Ever heard someone say history is written by the 
               victors? Throw that out the window. The victors create the 
               values and standards that the histories are written in, it's the 
               context. Take this reporter here. We don't need to worry 
               about him that much because he can't see very far. In fact 
               he won't even try to see because his values and standards are 
               enough, the ones the victors of the world create for him. We 
               only interfere to stay being the victors -- yes, we're the 
               victors. Take Joan of Arc; she's a Catholic witch to the first victors 
               of Paris -- the English, then a  Catholic Saint to the next victors of 
               Paris -- the French. Same person, same actions, different 
               values, victorious at different times. Standards that the 
               victors make are what is hard to escape. That's the Context I'm 
               talking about. If someone tries that's when the Big Truth 
               comes in.

               "Don't ask, I'll explain. The Big Truth has two sides to it; 
               one, when the person jumps the wall of values set by the 
               victors they are either too scared to understand a  truth 
               outside their context or they're too lazy to change their 
               minds because of the trouble it would cause. A good example 
               is the Emperor's Clothes story. The tailors trick the Emperor 
               into believing that they have made a beautiful garment. The 
               Emperor is not the victor in this case, the tailors are. 
               They have set the values by which this world sees everything. 
               When the little child, unconditioned by the new victors' 
               standards, is faced with the naked Emperor, the child sees 
               the Big Truth; then so does everyone else, including the 
               Emperor. But, instead of excepting the Big Truth the people 
               are scared and they had rather maintain the tailors' standards 
               because of the trouble that would happen if they didn't. 
               Now... two, the Red and Whites are the Big Truth when need 
               be. If someone tries to jump the wall of our values and 
               standards we put them back in it or take them out of the 
               way. You're a victor now Bernard. You're a Red and White. 
               Don't worry about people like this reporter here. Like most 
               of the people we come up against he'd rather be sleeping all 
               the time.

               "I've got to go -- you look around. You'll be informed on how 
               to proceed from here by my subordinates." Bill left and I 
               went ahead and inserted the changed paragraph.

               Almost immediately though, the paragraph was erased and 
               rewritten again, I did not know what I was meant to do. I 
               just sat there and upon my screen with the paragraph was a 
               message for "the bum on the other side" to get lost, that I 
               had no right to bother him. I just wrote over his comment 
               that I was sorry to bother his work -- that's all I could 
               think of. I was embarrassed. Bill forgot to mention this 
               might happen. Suddenly, I realized it was a game, a kind of 
               test. I knew I had to force this James to accept these new 
               conditions. That's why Bill wanted me to work with him, I 
               guessed. Reinsert it or not. It was a test. He was following 
               my play from another terminal. I had to act quickly. I wrote 
               in the same vein as I did when I apologized seconds earlier. 
               I said I was sorry but his style was lacking credibility and

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                                        13.


               if he could not pick up his credibility in his reporting I 
               was going to be there to make sure someone did pick it up.

               His reply was surprisingly fast, "Okay!"

               I smiled a little. I'd changed his mind with so little of my 
               persuasive attributes, I felt like I was back in shape again.

               Once I'd disconnected, Bill was back in my office 
               and said, "I bet you knew it was a test. Eh? But okay, who 
               cares? You did well. But he was a cinch. Okay, you can leave 
               now. Hey, one more thing you should know, this organization 
               has only permanent members. And we live in Barracks. Giving 
               up your private life is the cost of making people good. We 
               give courses at Barracks on policy objectives, and we publish 
               a biweekly newsletter to up-date you on the issues. The 
               present long-term issues are mandatory use of condoms and 
               the Nuclear Referendum, a first-class priority. Make sure it 
               stays that way."

               I wanted to ask for more information but the conversation 
               had clearly ended when he walked away.

               I was staring at the console, sucking the sutures in my cheek 
               and feeling the outside ones with a finger, wondering what 
               to do next. Then it shut down with the words, "GO HOME" 
               written on the screen. I laughed a little at it, but when I 
               got up to leave I felt a little shaky. Where was I to 
               get to these barracks that Bill was talking about? I left my 
               office, closing the door behind me, and approached the front 
               entrance, a crowded front entrance. "What's going on?", is 
               what I asked the first person I came to.

               "The bus home broke down," he answered.

               'Great,' I thought, 'I will get to meet some of my new work 
               mates.'

               I casually asked the man, "I guess we won't be going anywhere 
               for a while?"

               "You're stupid, aren't you?"

               "No," I answered.

               "oh, you're one of the new people, right?"

               "Right."

               "Oh, yeah, I recognize you. You're a Group A, right? Bernard, 
               right?"

               "Right."

               "Hey, it's an honour to meet any one of you guys. You know 
               you're going to find we do some damn important work here."

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                                        14.


               "What work is it that we do here?" I suddenly needed to find 
               out.

               "We all have our own tasks, but saving this country is what 
               we're all about. Have you ever asked yourself what makes you 
               tick, what makes you happy? I'll tell you what makes you 
               happy, it's our system. We have the best political system in 
               the world and our job is to protect that system no matter 
               what personal sacrifices we must make. Could you imagine our 
               country without competitiveness and our social compassion. 
               I've worked here only a few months and I've seen how this 
               country is being destroyed by these crooks ruling our 
               country."

               I was shocked to hear a Red and White say they loved the 
               country but hated the Government. I thought they were 
               inseparable. But I kept my mouth shut while he paused for a 
               second.

               "I'm talking about this plan to develop nuclear weapons."

               "Yeah, I keep on hearing about it. I even read an article 
               about it once. It seems to me that there's no reason to do 
               it -- we don't have a threat to the country, right?"

               "Right!" said the man. "Hey listen lets go to the cafeteria. 
               The bus should be fixed soon but I think we have time for 
               tea."

               He led me back through the offices to the west end. We passed 
               a manufacturing and storage area and I felt curious about 
               it, so I asked him about it. He laughed, "This is where we 
               make up the physical facts. We're often told these are the 
               best artisans in the city and I believe it. They make 
               everything from bombs that leave no trace of their own 
               existence to fingerprints. I've needed to use their voice 
               imitating device -- why don't I show it to you. Everyone's up 
               at the front waiting for the bus." He led me inside and I 
               found a dozen large screen computer terminals, three attendant 
               robotic devices and there were manual tools with a  workspace on 
               the other side of the room.

               He went on, "You might need to use this device some day soon. 
               Here, say something out loud."

               I hesitated but eventually said, "The pains of Spain sit 
               mainly on their bullocks- eh - saying nothing is as good as 
               anything ..."

               "if nothing was as good as anything," he said, "this sampler 
               wouldn't be able to screw up people's lives." Then he started 
               to whisper into the machine and a voice that was too familiar 
               yet strange at the same time, starkly told me that it was 
               Bernard Kimosa who was guilty of killing a cop over two years 
               before.

               'What the hell is going on?' I was afraid to look at the 
               man. Did everybody think I did that?

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                                        15.


               This voice imitator could make it seem to anybody 
               that I had confessed.

               He started to laugh again, then said as best he could, "You - 
               ah -- are -- ah -- a -- popular character in this -- operation. 
               Oh -- I love this job. I was involved in creating the witnesses 
               that identified you as the cop killer. For some reason you 
               were in great demand around here; Bill and Perry don't have 
               such urgent cases very often. Bill, the one that shows first 
               timers around -- he wanted you right away. I think he has 
               plans for you."

               I disbelieved him. I'd been docile for the past day, feeling 
               like I had nothing to live for -- no direction of my own -- 
               just when I was on to something about my life that was 
               important I was arrested. I played with my sixes  
               and wished I could resolve everything with a single 
               roll. I even felt guilty for killing a cop.  
               I was some big joke here to everyone. Bill told me I 
               couldn't quit the job, and all the things they did 
               gave me the idea, quitting was not an option. Bombs that 
               leave no trace -- what couldn't they do to me if they wanted 
               to?

               With a snap of his fingers my coworker woke me out of my stupor where 
               I'd been connecting the post office, the Rubes and the Red 
               and Whites. I asked the first thing that came to my mind, 
               "Do you know anything about a package meant for a group of 
               con-artists called the Rubes?"

               "Oh yeah! I heard of it but I don't know what's in it."

               As I was about to ask a follow-up question, an announcement 
               was made through a PA system that the bus was ready.

               The man told me to forget the tea, that we had to go.

               I was able to ask the question as we left, "Was the Rubes' 
               package manufactured in that area we looked at. Why is the 
               Post Office being used for the Red and Whites?"

               "I think it's just one of our oldest operations. We make up 
               fake packages with incriminating histories or contents for 
               the police to entrap criminals for the courts. It's sort of 
               our moral groundwork." Then out to the lot we went and joined 
               the crowd filing into the bus.

               The large turns and high viewpoint of the bus gave me a sense 
               of clarity as we secretly paraded: the moral elite of this 
               city.

               I could hardly believe what I'd gotten myself into. The Rubes 
               had been lucky not to have tried to obtain that package 
               earlier; but I wasn't going to stick my neck out for them 
               now, not after the way they treated me. And Nicola! What a 
               betrayal. No wonder she left the Rubes for good. She was 
               probably with the Red and Whites from the start, a groups I 
               was now in, involved in, and which, I considered, was the worst scam  -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                                        16.


               imaginable; with local and federal government involvement, 
               The cops and the Post Office, and out on a crusade to ...I 
               didn't know. But the whole nuclear weapons issue seemed to 
               be at the centre of it all.

               My life was the centre of my quest and going along with 
               whatever I was told to do seemed to be the only way to even 
               survive -- I was scared.

               The bus traveled east into Scarborough. Some of my new co-
               workers were interested in getting to know me. "What's your 
               name?" was the depth of those conversations. We turned towards 
               the Scarborough Bluffs onto the grounds of a convent -- at 
               least the historical sign at the gate stated that it was -- 
               and drove up to a red brick school with a green copper dome.

               The grounds seemed vast to my sight. We left the bus 
               and crossed to the brick building. We were led by the nose 
               through the corridors into an auditorium. Perhaps forty people 
               sat with me in the hall waiting for the grand wizard or 
               whoever to enter. Then Bill stood in front of us and held 
               his hand up and waited for our complete attention, "We are 
               ready now to begin the crunch of our work. Three more 
               employees have now given us eleven complete squads of four 
               each. That should pull us through.

               "Our task is a monumental one and the future of our nation 
               depends on the success of every one of you in the field. I 
               have witnessed in my lifetime the gradual disintegration of 
               our country's moral fabric and proud traditions. I'm happy 
               to see, finally, the coming together of the best this country 
               has left in order to re-weave that moral fabric. After all, 
               what are our enemies but the holes and nakedness in that 
               fabric, and what do they do for people but break the weave 
               that binds the common person with questions that needlessly 
               instill doubt -- doubt in our society, in our nation, in our 
               God. They know the answers, but they don't reveal the facts which they must deny -- 
               because the secret agenda they expound by their actions is 
               the power to destroy that which they covet. And what they 
               covet, is this great country because  they know it can never be 
               theirs ..."

               Everybody around me cheered.

               Bill continued, "They covet the power that you and you only 
               have been chosen to wield ... to protect this great nation."

               More cheers surrounded me. My previous fears and criticisms 
               of this group were starting to look like folly. Bill was not 
               so wrong as I'd first thought. His words were so invigorating 
               to me that I helped the crowd around me raise the chorus 
               one voice louder -- I was finally part of a group of people I 
               could understand. I was desperate to talk to Bill, to talk 
               about the need I had for him to weave me together again; but 
               his influence was already doing just that. My past, up to 
               that very second, was stretched out visibly in parallel warps into 
               the nothingness to which I arrived. It was people who  
               were trying to destroy the country, they caused me all the problems --

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                                        17.


               Nicola, Zinta, Julie, Wen - it was they that made me forget 
               God and country. I could hardly believe what they had gotten 
               me into. I had the solution I was looking for -- this 
               organization -- these Red and Whites.

               II

               Even as I came down from my high on the mob atmosphere, I 
               still listened intensely. "Most of you here have been with 
               us for only a short time and I'm proud of the progress you've 
               achieved in your assignments. Those that just started with 
               us will need to progress at an even more rapid pace -- tomorrow 
               we begin the crunch time and there will be no excuses. You 
               come with backgrounds in the same field so use it. We'll be 
               playing for keeps as of tomorrow on the Nuke issue. For 
               security I won't discuss the specifics of your assignments 
               now but I need to tell you that the news blackout on the 
               referendum has been moved up by two days. Our new plans 
               therefore commence tomorrow. This will make our tasks 
               incredibly more difficult. The window of favourable public 
               opinion to our side, that we hoped would last until the actual 
               referendum, is closing.

               "Now it's time to move on to dinner; your assignments will 
               be handed out to you afterwards, individually."

               I had to talk to him when he stepped away from the front 
               and toward us. The clapping and cheering had the side effect 
               of not allowing me to hear even my own voice as I called to 
               Bill. I pushed through the crowd without the usual insults 
               people toss when you step on feet, it became like an ant 
               swarm around the queen; I had somewhere to go so I was given 
               the privilege of stepping over the other workers. "Bill, 
               Bill!" I yelled out. "You're so right!"

               "We'll talk later, Bernard!" He walked off with two other 
               people towards an exit with the sign OFFICERS ONLY over it. 
               I felt like I was back at the cadets with the sense of purpose 
               I had then. Now I knew why this country had the cadets; it 
               was to give the future citizens of this country the purpose 
               and beliefs to carry them through crises like the one I had 
               just gone through, so that when all seemed lost to me I had 
               that foundation to build on.

               'God and Country ... ah ... God and Country,' I chanted in 
               my head.

               I'd never before considered what it took to defend those 
               foundations I'd  always had. There were even people 
               who were trying to destroy them. That provoked good 
               questions, ones I'd never asked of myself before -- How was 
               'God and Country' defended? There was no doubt they needed to 
               be. After all people are so easily swayed -- I was swayed 
               once and it was the worst thing that ever happened to me. 
               Why would the authorities let people like me be manipulated 
               by the charlatans and criminals that infested that house. 
               They had it under surveillance, they must have known what 
               they were up to, why would they let it go on for so long?

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                                        18.


               Even if it was just fraud that the Rubes practiced it deserved some 
               punitive action. Then I remembered the cash they gave me 
               after my wedding, it was mixed with my own money by now. How 
               could I sort it out? I had no idea how much money I had to 
               start with or how much they gave me. I felt around my pants 
               for the cash.

               I needed some place to trash it and didn't know where to 
               find a garbage. I was in a corridor with three directions to 
               choose from. I asked a woman who was  passing by for help and she 
               told me about the mess hall then pointed the way and I thanked 
               her.

               A huge ruckus from the mess hall acted like a homing beacon 
               during my last few wrong turns, I was able to listen my way 
               towards the correct corridor. I dumped the money in the first 
               garbage I came to, I made sure no one watched me do it. Then 
               with my guilt eased I took an admiring glance around; the 
               hall was old and decorated with the tortured faces of 
               gargoyles. My rowdy new cohorts were accidentally dubbing in  
               voices for the stone monsters. The clanging, echoing hall was formerly a chapel and 
               old oak pews served as the seating but so few used them, 
               they were too busy standing to make their arguments seem 
               important and drinking like they were in a German beer 
               hall. The food was free and served cafeteria style. Only a 
               few quiet people were in the hall and they sat together at 
               one of the tables.  When I'd stacked food on my tray as high 
               as it would allow, I took my food tray over to sit with the quite ones.

               "Hello, my name is Bernard," I yelled.

               A woman turned her head and interrupted her conversation. She too was 
              loud out of necessity and replied, "What did you do before 
               they got you out?"

               I looked at her, a little bit confused.

               "You know -- before they got you out of prison -- we recognize 
               each other from prison, but we don't know you."

               "There are a lot of prisons," I said.

               "But not a lot of prisoners these days."

               I was surprised and intimidated, "I never made it as far as 
               prison, I was taken out from a local jail."

               "Okay then, what did you do to get there?"

               I was afraid to admit I hadn't done anything, I decided I 
               couldn't say.

               "I'm not going to tell you" I said sternly.

               "Oh --" she said laughing under her breath, "Good choice, 
               Bernard. Around here it's best not to give anyone help to 
               drag you down -- oops -- I'm sorry I didn't mean that. 
               Sorry guys."

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                                        19.


              "Do you mean they recruited us 
               from jails. All of us?"

               "Well, not everyone. One or two aren't."

               'God and Country,' I thought to reassure my new confidence.

               I had drifted from the conversation and they were talking 
               about the assignments when I came back into it. I tried to 
               catch up with it while I ate my caviar, making sure I favoured 
               my itchy cheek, I didn't want to chew the stitches. The 
               conversation speculated on the assignment as being, in essence, 
               to create riots. It sounded stupid, but one of them claimed 
               he knew it for a fact. I just decided to wait for the 
               assignments to confirm it before I believed him. How could I 
               believe it, Toronto hadn't seen a riot in over thirty years. 
               What good would creating one now do -- I licked my plate for 
               the last eggs of my caviar -- I was not interested in hearing 
               their speculation. I stood up and took the rest of my meal 
               to another table, claiming I was queezy about  the caviar. 
                
                I knew I should have been more friendly to 
               them but I needed to stand by my principles, despite the 
               repercussions.

               As I ate the rest of my meal surrounded by the frenzied and 
               violent characteristics of a Punch and Judy show, Bill 
               approached and sat next to me. "How'you doing Bernard? 
               I've your assignment." He handed me a white envelope. "Hey 
               your stitches are not too bad after all, are they?"

               "I guess not, they're just a little itchy sometimes."

               "Yeah, you better hold off on that scratching, you're doing 
               it all the time."

               "I am?"

               "Business first. You go to the reading room to look at these. 
               Come this way." He led me away from the rest of my meal out 
               of the dining hall and into a corridor with many doors.

               "Usually," he began, "you come into one of these rooms and 
               ask for your assignment. It will come out of this steel 
               drawer. Now you have the only copy and 
               I didn't specify what I wanted so you can see the drawer is 
               empty. I am the only one that can override the security to 
               open the drawer or anything else. You must say,'I would like 
               my second assignment' or third or whatever it is. Now I'm 
               going to leave you to read your assignment. Don't screw up."

               Bill closed the door and I started breathing again. I tore 
               open the envelope, unfolded the paper inside and read; Bernard 
               Kimosa, Assignment 1. Oct .6 For the proceeding days of 
               Oct .7,8,9, you will be directly subordinate to Lieutenant 
               Alison Williams in her execution of the plan to expose the 
               popular dissatisfaction with the present regime in regards 
               to the upcoming, so-called, referendum.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                                        20.


               I was surprised how short it was and how little was said. I 
               assumed there would be much more to it, how would we 'expose 
               the popular dissatisfaction' as it mentioned. Still a bit 
               puzzled by the letter I memorized the name of my superior, 
               returned the paper to the envelope and tossed the envelope 
               into the drawer and said, "I'm finished." The door 
               automatically unlocked, I leaned against it and I was out.

               The hallways were still confusing to me so I decided to go 
               find out where I would be sleeping, I figured it would anchor 
               me. A dormitory was shown to me when I asked about sleeping 
               accommodations. The guard at the dorm's entrance told me 
               that I belonged to another section. He found by his list 
               which one it was and directed me there.

               When I arrived I was given a list of 
               rules on how to behave in the building. The area was half 
               full of other people cleaning up and going to their stacked 
               beds so I did the same.

               One last thing I did before turning in was to ask about the 
               book Bill had mentioned and where to find it, The Context 
               Rules. I found a copy in the common room and took it back to 
               read in bed.

               "The guide to understanding how context is an inescapable 
               factor in determining the course of events."

               I skipped a few chapters and stopped on page 104.

               "Preemptive Infiltration: Begun in the last century as part 
               of counter espionage, the concept arose from the assumption 
               that the enemy was more sophisticated than it truly was. 
               This brought about the infiltration of all strata's of home 
               society where the enemy  was presumed to be seeking an 
               influence; editors, actors, industrialists, politicians, 
               humorists, police, artists, unionists.

               The system grew and became a passive instrument of 
               illumination; individuals put in 
               positions of influence rooted out all the

               potential opponents. The system perpetuated its own viewpoint 
               to become self-managed with little need for oversight. The 
               lessons derived from the experience ..."

               I then knew how the Red and Whites had started. With a yawn 
               that watered my eyes I glanced at snippets of information on 
               other pages.

               "... Contaminating: is the absolute use of denial in every 
               circumstance where an argument is damaging.

               No matter how absurd the denial it will always slow down, if 
               not stop, a damaging idea... Substitution: when interrogating 
               a suspect, create an atmosphere where the suspect feels as 
               if no crime or fault has happened ... Anchoring: is preemptive 
               contamination where you put out ideas in areas where there

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                                        21.


               is no debate in preparation for debates that are expected to 
               arise... Spin Doctors: ... Hatchet Persons:...

"               I lifted my head off my hand and looked around the dorm. I 
               was the last to turn off a lamp. I lay 
               down on my back. My eyes stayed open and I discovered the 
               depths to which a blackness in a room with no windows could 
               have. In time my ears picked up the slight breathing of 
               the others. In my head images formed on the darkness in front 
               of my eyes, hazy but familiar and some quite new to me. A 
               moment of clarity passed in front of me at the deepest point in my 
               vision. It came due to a smell that was drifting by. I 
               probed the remnants of the odor; I grabbed 
               the moment back and held to it until I could feel the memory 
               clearly. There it was, I was happy when I smelled that. 
               It was like the perfume of a rose. No, the perfume of a woman, 
               the side of a fragrant neck. I rubbed off each emerging tear, 
               being careful not to irritate the priceless neck with my 
               rough beard. "Zinta," I whispered, "Where did you go? I've 
               been looking for you." I pulled back my head to see Zinta's 
               wondrous face, full of tears, like mine. Smiling, like mine. 
               Together we burst out in a laugh; hugging, sniffling, and 
               trying to clear our voices. She said in a broken whisper, 
               "Where have you been?" I caught her hair in my beard and it went 
               in my mouth. I tasted a part of her I thought I would never 
               experience again. I answered, "I was just looking for you. 
               I'm so happy ... have you really forgiven me for hurting 
               you? Have you? I guess I never realized how important you 
               were to me until now -- now that you're back." I was consuming 
               this moment with her. All the time I had been searching for 
               something it was for her. Then a fire in our flat came to 
               mind -- the fire -- some of the pain was coming back. I held 
               Zinta tighter and she whispered "I love you, Bernard". Then 
               the fire again. Why the fire? Zinta's tight embrace started 
               to fail me as the fire came in our presence. The heat grew 
               all over us. I tried to cover Zinta with my arms but her 
               hair burned despite my efforts then all our clothes, then as 
               Zinta looked in my eyes the skin on her face started to curl 
               and shrink away with the fire. "I can't stop it Zinta. It's 
               not my fault!", then the fire licked at my eyes and I couldn't 
               see her. My hands numbed and my body collapsed to the floor 
               somewhere away

               from me in the darkness. I believed my body was still out 
               there with hers and I tried to use it. I told my hand to 
               grab out for her but I didn't know if they were listening. 
               Eventually, I knew she was a dream; that I couldn't change 
               what had happened to her in the fire that those cops set. Those 
               cops.

               I woke drowsily and quickly forgot my dream. It took a second 
               of effort to remember that I was in a dorm with my new 
               colleagues. I couldn't remember how I got there. I loosely 
               tried to figure it out. 'Okay,' I thought, 'After I saw Zinta 
               I went to the wedding and met Wen and Nicola and the rest. I 
               did them a favour and got the job at the Post Office. How 
               did I get that job?

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                                        22.


               It was so strange. First I'm refused, then welcomed then I'm 
               arrested to make sure I'll take the job even after I agreed 
               to work for the Post Office. Why would that happen? Sounds 
               like Cadets when we learned about overkill, setting in motion 
               all your options on one goal using all the resources that 
               can be brought to bear. I was arrested for this job! It sounds 
               ridiculous to me. Those cops that arrested me obviously had 
               no idea I'd done nothing wrong -- that I was just needed for 
               a job. But the cops have a connection to the Red and Whites. 
               So maybe the two cops that were following me from the church 
               had some connection too. What were my qualifications to have 
               the Red and Whites to be so interested in me? Perhaps the 
               cops thought like the Rubes thought, that I was some great 
               manipulator or something. If I remembered correctly, all my 
               life I had been quite creative. Like the story I gave the 
               Rector about my parents. Even I was convinced by it.'

               I felt my face smile in the darkness. Then when I was relaxed 
               and ready to sleep again, I rubbed my tongue along the ridge 
               of stitching inside my cheek and a stitch fell off. I spat 
               it out. With a panic surging through my body I waited for 
               the blood to start gushing again -- nothing happened. I had 
               healed on the inside and so quickly. I wondered if my body 
               had extra healing powers. Mainly, I was just glad that my 
               tongue had not been pierced by that nail too.

               I felt I was out of place with the Red and Whites. I was the 
               only one there that was hired without a real criminal record. 
               And this whole thing about our country possessing nuclear 
               weapons, why did these Red and Whites care if we did or 
               didn't? Most big countries had them. Did they want to keep some 
               pure image they had of our country ? I guessed that was the answer. Bill seemed 
               quite puritanical about the whole thing -- like the way he was 
               making such an issue out of a few articles in the papers. I 
               was never a reader of the papers so I  had no idea why the 
               whole operation would be instituted. I decided to trust Bill. 
               He was the leader for a reason I guessed.

               As I was going over my opinions on the operation again the 
               darkness showed me Nicola. Her betrayal stung. The image of 
               Nicola stopped when I gritted my teeth and prickling sweat 
               burst through my skin. I didn't want to think of her. I rolled 
               over on my side to cool off my damp back and caused a loud 
               squeak from the bunk. I listened very sharply to 
               hear if I'd disturbed anybody. On the other end of the dorm 
               the faintest whispering was taking place. I imagined that 
               not many of my fellow employees were asleep at that point. I 
               guessed I must have slept for only a few minutes. Outside 
               the door the guard was moving in his chair. I looked slowly 
               over the edge of the bunk to my bunk-mate. I couldn't see 
               anything, but of what I could hear his breathing sounded 
               like that of a person asleep. I curled up on my side and 
               felt a moment of relaxation come over me like a chill. 
               Forgetting became my only activity as I passed by image after 
               image. letting them float in the dusty sunbeam in my old 
               flat.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                                        23.


               An irritating buzz drove me further under my bed sheets. 
               Then I could see through the sheets that the lights were on. 
               Some coughing, but no talking went on in the dormitory. We 
               all got up and got ready.  I was provided with clothes my 
               size and every necessity imaginable. In the washroom I 
               examined the stitches on my cheek. I pressed my tongue against 
               the inside, puffing out the skin and scratched the row of 
               stitches with a fingernail. I could see in the mirror how 
               well the cut was healing. No pain had overcome the original local 
               pain killer to that point. One thing I couldn't understand 
               was that my hands still burned, not to an intolerable point, 
               but I wished the rope burn would disappear. 
               Beyond that I just continued to try and ignore the pain. I 
               was happy to be able to clean myself up again and dress up 
               completely and I did one other thing to take me back to the 
               way I was, I returned to doing daily push-ups and sit-ups.

               We were called into the mess hall to have breakfast then 
               taken to the assembly hall. Bill was on stage pointing to 
               people to tell them where to sit it. I was not forgotten. 
               When the hall seemed calm, Bill spoke to us. "I'm sorry 
               to our three new members that they must go into the field 
               before they get the training I promised them. I hope each of 
               you, with your Cadet training and your proven commitment to 
               the cause will be able to handle your assignments; just stay 
               behind your squad leader today and do what he or she does."

               A woman sitting in front of me turned around and offered me 
               her hand to shake, which I did.  She whispered, "Hey, 
               pleased to meet you. I'm your squad leader. Alison, okay" 
               You're Bernard right? Pleased to meet you."

               After drinking from a large tumbler, Bill continued, "I hope 
               you're all refreshed this morning. You'll all find you're 
               going to be a little rusty after such a long break from direct 
               contextualizing. But, whatever you do, don't lack confidence 
               in your task. You'll blow everything if you're too nervous. Get 
               into those crowds right away and make friends. Get them to 
               trust you. And don't hold back the sauce. We want to get on 
               the news tonight. And remember the flag is what we're fighting 
               for. We're the Red and Whites ..."  Bill finished in a somber 
               tone, "Someone's got to do it."

               My squad leader stood up quickly and signaled with 
               a wave of her hand and a kind expression in her face to follow 
               her. We weaved through the departing crowd and met two men 
               who were a little older than me. Alison said they were Rich 
               and Ralph.

               Alison said,"For a para-military organization, four in a 
               squad is a little small but here we are. We're called Seven 
               of Diamonds. All the squads are named from a deck of cards; 
               don't forget Bernard, okay?"

               "I got it." Then I forgot it.

               She told us to follow her. We were taken outside into the 
               parking lot and we all got into a car. Four in a squad made

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                                        24.


               sense then. We drove away from the old building on the Bluffs 
               over-looking the turquoise Lake Ontario and headed downtown.

               Alison used the rearview mirror to look at me in the back 
               seat of the car while she drove. She said, "Hey, Bernard, 
               you must be nervous to be on your first assignment. Especially 
               without having even basic training."

               "Yeah," I said.

               "Stay next to me and learn from what I do. It doesn't take 
               much brains to do what we've got to do today. Just a lot of 
               acting. I guess I should tell you what we're up to."

               "Yeah."

               "There's a rally at Nathan Phillips Square for the Yes side 
               in the Referendum. Us, and at lest another squad, walk into 
               the rally and make everybody upset at something and make 
               them attack something; like one of the foreign hotels or a 
               consulate or anything that makes them look like a bunch of 
               dogs. That's it, not much to it."

               "Look like a bunch of dogs to whom?" I asked.

               "To the voters; they're a bunch of cows, right? Now, in a 
               week-long campaign they've gone from wanting nuclear weapons, 
               to hating the idea, to who knows what now that polling 
               has been cut off for the remaining two days. We just want 
               to make our vote count. Don't worry, this tactic always works. 
               See we're the wovles in the dog packs. The cows lead the 
               sheep."

               I had to ask. "Okay, who are the sheep?"

               "The sheep are young kids. Ah - not -the goat kind of kid. 
               The goat kids are toddlers. And if they ever extend the vote 
               to the babies they'll be the bunnies.

..."               I decided I should be grateful to her for bringing to my 
               attention the one fault my country had, which was its use of 
               cute para-military labels for voting groups.

               We drove west through the expressway tunnel to Bay Street 
               then north to Queen St. to park under the square. We all 
               took a look out of the car at the crowd that milled around 
               in the square before we went down the ramp and into the 
               parking lot.

               Alison jumped out of the car clapping her hands and saying, 
               "Okay, lets get a move on." She jumped around still clapping 
               and trying to hype us up as though it was a hockey game we 
               were entering. I was walking shoulder to shoulder with Ralph 
               and we glanced at each other, and rolled our eyes about 
               Alison.Then Alsion jumped between us hugging us then hanging 
               from our necks. We were about a foot taller than her. "Hey 
               guys. Just take your cue from what I do. Bernard, listen to 
               me for a while. Eh?

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                                        25.


               Be my straight man until you think you can handle it 
               yourself." She gasped out the breath that was giving her 
               strength, lost her grip and slid to the concrete, "Let's 
               go!" she said.

               We walked up the steps into the sunshine and I warmed up 
               immediately in the crowds. Rich and Ralph split away from 
               Alison and I without acknowledging us as they left. I followed 
               Alison from a few metres away. She was calm again while 
               surveying the crowds from her low vantage. I could see by 
               doing little hops that the placards with slogans for nuclear 
               weapons were going a hundred metres deep from where we were. 
               Someone in the hotel across from the square had hung a banner 
               out a window near the top to about halfway down the forty 
               storey building that said in wind blown lines, "Y C

               E A

               S N

               A

               T D

               O A"

               The banner used the sameslogan as most of the placards did. 
               It seemed that the people at the rally were taking the same 
               tact that we were, an appeal to nationalism, which muddled 
               my opinion of it even further.

               I began to realize when I tried to get a grip on what we 
               were doing there that there were some children there in the 
               crowd. If the crowd got violent I worried that something 
               might happen to them. Then I remembered that their parents 
               could look after them - I hoped.

               Alison moved through the crowd in her casual manner, she fit 
               in so well with the cattle, sheep and occasional bunny. 
               Someone bumped the side of her head with the bottom corner 
               of their placard and apologized to Alison. Alison struck up 
               a conversation with the placard waver and I passed closely 
               to the two women and Alison was able to wink at me undetected.

               I didn't wander out of sight of my squad leader and decided 
               to feel my way into the task I was being asked to do. I 
               reviewed what Alison had said in the car on the way, 'We're 
               supposed to stir up the crowd - and make them look like dogs.'

               'Great,' I thought to myself. 'Maybe I can scratch their 
               ears.'

               I decided to plunge into the crowd. A man much taller than 
               me was turning around slwoly, stretching his neck looking 
               for somebody. I decided to ask him something to get started. 
               "Who are you looking for?"

               "Nothing," he said innocently.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                                        26.


               "I didn't mean anything. I wanted to see if I could help."

               "Oh! That's alright. So what brings you down here?"

               "I was just going to ask you that," I said.

               "Well I asked you first, right?" he laughed.

               "Okay - well - I'm all for these nuclear weapons. Like the 
               slogan up on the building says we should vote for Canada."

               "Yeah... right!"

               "Well what do you think?"

               "Yeah! I'm all for it."

               "Is that all." I began to wonder about this guy. He was 
               skinny, had a mustache he kept scratching and his eyes were 
               watery.

               "Hey, I'm one of those undecided voters. Okay?"

               He walked away. There was no point in contradicting him, he 
               did it to himself. I let him go and looked for someone else.

               Then I saw a seven or eight year old boy walking by me and 
               crouched down to talk to him, "Hey kid. Tell me why I should 
               vote for nuclear weapons."

               He smiled at the challenge and said, "Well, you know."

               "No," I said, "I don't. I want someone to give me a good 
               reason."

               "I'm just here until lunchtime is over."

               "Com'on; are you going to vote?"

               "Yeah."

               "If you're voting for the Yes side I want to know why."

               "Okay!" he said still smiling but pausing to think. Because 
               I was squatting I had to look up at him a little. His left 
               eye moved slower than the right as he thought, looking into 
               the sky. Something I remembered learning years ago glashed 
               into my mind, 'Everybody is imperfect -' I ignored his bad 
               eye as best I could.

               He warmedup what he had to say with a few unfinished 
               sentences, but I was eager to hear what he had to say, I 
               didn't interfere. "You know I think it's because - because 
               we're a big country and I heard a lot of small countries 
               have it and they try to tell us what to do all the time. It 
               makes us the same then if we have it."

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                                        27.


               I was asking him about the vote to learn what most people 
               there thought, but I ended up suddenly convinced.

               Not knowing what to do with me, the boy thought I was finished 
               with him and he walked off. I was concentrating too deeply 
               on the topic to see him going until I wondered where he'd 
               gone and it was then I recalled from my unconscious memory 
               the sight of him leaving.

               I had a job to do for the Red and Whites and I had to get 
               back to it. 'The Red and Whites must have a connection to 
               the government; they're too big not to be noticed - so what 
               if the government is publicly for this policy? They can't 
               always do things straightforward. Like int he Cadets - when 
               we learned about decoy and deception tactics within our own 
               ranks. There's no way for me to know what knowledge the Prime 
               Minister used when she made these decisions. So far she'd 
               done everything right in my eyes - I really should trust 
               her; she's earned that at least.'

               I had stood up straight and stretched my legs out while I 
               thought it all out. It was time to hang around Alison again 
               and I jumped up and down to see her. I had a panic shock 
               when I didn;t see her anywhere near where I'd left her. In a 
               few seconds, though, I saw her with someone new. I walked to 
               her and she broke off her conversation to come beside me.

               "This must be hard for you," she said. "Don't worry, I found 
               a target for the crowds' anger. Over there," she pointed up 
               the ramp to the UFO like city council chamber. More placards 
               were waving from up there. "You see they're against the 
               nuclear weapons. Bernard, just talk to people here and get 
               them upset at those people."

               "But they're on our side. We don't want to hurt them."

               "We do in this case. Stick with me this time and do the 
               straight man bit I suggested."

               I hung back from Alison and when she stopped to talk to a 
               man, I stood behind this man with some other people and 
               pretended to be overhearing this converstation. The people 
               beside me started to forget their own activities and listened 
               with me to Alison and the man.

               "They're spitting on us from up there", said Alison. "They 
               called to me as I walked by and some guy spit down at me."

               "That was only one man. Don't get so upset. They're not all 
               like that", said the man.

               "Yeah, but they're all up there. Why should they have the 
               high ground when they only have a few dozen protesters; we 
               have way over a thousand people."

               That was my cue to elaborate, I said, "... Yeah."

               A woman to my right seconded my opinions.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                                        28.


               "Aren't we here to show the reporters who hs the most 
               support?" Alison said. "See how the reporters are talking to 
               those protestors, have you seen anyone of us being 
               interviewed?"

               "Yeah!..."I said.

               Alison looked at me along with the rest. I guessed I said 
               'yeah' at the wrong time. I said to them, "I menat, 
               'Yeah...who has... seen anyone being interviewed?'"

               Then the man talking to Alison said, "The reporters are 
               probably up there to get a good shot of us."

               Alison rolled her eyes and said to the man, You're probably 
               right."

               She walked away and I soon after caught up to her as she 
               called to someone. When I could see who she had called for 
               it turned out to be the tall irritable man with the mustache 
               that I'd tried to talk to earlier.

               "Hey, Joe," she said, "get up there and get them rude."

               At first this Joe pretended not to notice me but then Alison 
               pointed at me with a jerk of her head and said to him, "He's 
               one of us."

               Joe and I nodded to each other. Alison then said, "Okay, get 
               going and stop wiping your swety hands on your pants. It 
               makes you look really nervous."

               Joe went off and Alison said to me, "He's new like you but 
               we had time to train him somewhat. He's from the other squad 
               that's here. Hey don't worry aboput what happened back there. 
               It's the nature of our work to make mistakes. Let's split 
               up. I'll take the car back - if everything works like it 
               should this afternoon. You make your own way back; so will 
               the others." She took off towards the ramp area.

               I knew it was up to me to do the hob on my own. I began to 
               crave a taste of that crystal drug in those pamphlets I had 
               earlier. It must have helped me before when I needed to get 
               through the wedding. It probably helped me that those 
               arresting cops forced an overdoseon me when the gashin my 
               cheek was becoming too painful. I wondered where I could get 
               some more. I looked through the crowd for one of those creeps 
               that give then away then I remembered the cop that arrested 
               me, how he regarded the fact that I had the pamphlets. I was 
               sure then that the Red and Whites wouldn't like me to use 
               the stuff. I went back to my duty of creating a riot.

               I knew from my Cadet training in insurgency that you must 
               look for weak spots in the enemy. So I wandered through the 
               ccrowd listening for the most belicose and idiotic comments 
               and arguments.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                                        29.


               "The world's ecology is going to be pulling the rug out from 
               under humanity if we don't have the weapons to stand up to 
               these polluters that dump in our seas," said a cadidate for 
               belicose but not for idiotic. I moved on through the crowd.

               "I think it's so sexy to have a bunch of submarines pushing 
               their way under the sea through those tight little channels 
               in Nuniviut ready to push passed that frigid skin of ice to 
               shower the world with an experience that couldonly be compared 
               to the best orgasms." Definitely idiotic but not belicose. I 
               had to get a look at this girl with such a gift for avoiding 
               the subject. I pushed apart the shoulders blocking my view 
               and to my shock I saw Wen - still looking for some action. 
               She didn't see me so I quickly ducked and scurried away from 
               her. I became so nervous then, I didn;t know how I was going 
               to help the Red and Whites with her around. I had to talk to 
               Alison.

               The last I saw of Alison, she was walking towards the 
               protesters on the ramp. That was where I went. But instead I 
               found a shouting match going on between the No protesters up 
               high on the top of the ramp and the Yes supporters far below. 
               The moment was perfect for one of us to set the riot off. I 
               looked for the reporters that had been with the No protesters 
               but I couldn't see them. I decided to hurry in case that Joe 
               was about to set it off himself.

               I thought the pro-Red and White reporters wouldn't leave but 
               it seemed that no reporter was to be found. I knew how 
               important the news accounts would be for the success of this 
               day for us and I ran through the crowd bumping off people 
               looking in the most likely places to find one. But none were 
               in my sight. I went to the bottom of the ramp and ran up it 
               to get a better view of the perimeter and could only see one 
               TV crew and they were leaving. I had to act fast.

               "YOU GODDAMN TRAITORS" I screamed as I ran up the ramp looking 
               in my pockets for something to thow. My pockets were empty 
               and I stopped running for a second to yell again; this time 
               over the concrete rail about the No supporters, 'I HATE 
               TRAITORS. NO MORE TRAITORS!" I thought of using a shoe to 
               throw at the No side. I hopped a few times up the ramp, 
               knocking my lucky dice off my teeth, as I took one off. Then 
               with my uneven step and while my sock slipped off my foot, I 
               charged up to the top of the ramp as some policement stood 
               by and watched me throw the first shoe. Once I'd thrown it I 
               stopped running and watched it land on the ground: the 
               protesters had moved aside to let it fall between them. no 
               explosion, no bang, no reaction except some scared expressions 
               from the protesters and a smile from one of the onlooking 
               police officers.

               Then a rock was tossed from somewhere below me and a shower 
               of objects followed close behind pelting and scattering the 
               No side. A bunch of the protesters came at me, I turned and 
               ran as fast as I could, casuingmy bare foot to suffer a 
               pounding against the asphalt that was only mitigated by my

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                                        30.


               fear of being trampled by the pitiless feet in pursuit of 
               me.

               I looked for the TV crew despite my haste and saw them coming. 
               With my technologically handicapped bare foot, I speedily 
               limped to the bottom of the ramp in time to avoid a rush of 
               my momentary comrades going the opposite way to attack the 
               No protesters. I knew the job was finished and that it 
               wouldn't be a good idea to hang around and be on the news 
               myself. I was about to take off when I saw that Joe, my true 
               comrade was close behind me whirling around a leather belt 
               with a huge buckle and catching the heads of anybody in his 
               way. He sped through the gauntlet like it was wheat ready 
               for harvest, slashing furiously until he was slowed enough 
               by the natural resistance of human flesh to be pulled down 
               by his hair. I had one look at his face before he was dragged 
               down; it wasn't a nervous face I saw, but a vicious face 
               seemingly thrilled at the violence being done by him and to 
               him. I turned away disgusted.

               I took off in the opposite direction from Joe then discovered 
               I was being spat on. Some disapproving mothers holding their 
               children were yelling and spitting at my face as I passed. 
               Telling me I ruined the whole rally. I should have felt some 
               pride at a job well done but I needed a shower too desperately 
               to feel any pride. Anyway I had been right not to worry about 
               the children.

               "I bet you'll want to wash up," said Wen with a smirk and a 
               tight mini-skirt, "Here I am to save you again. Come on."

               Wen ran out of the square, I wobbled. We crossed Bay St. 
               into Trinity Square and on we went further north to the subway 
               at Dundas. We got on a northbound train which pushed through 
               the darkness to wherever Wen was leading me.

               Her mohawk was limp this time and the peach fuzz on either 
               side was blacker than the first time she rescued me. She 
               hadn't said anything to me the whole walk to the subway but 
               in it she relaxed and looked serious as she said, "I never 
               told Tannis that you killed your girlfriend, okay? I told 
               him your weird story you told me and he just jumped all over 
               it. Well, you know I've figured out he was afraid of you. He 
               used it to turn everybody against you when you were looking 
               for the job. I guess he thought you were his competition 
               cause you wouldn't listen to him. Nicola must be pissed off 
               with Tannis right? She is staying with you, right?"

               "No," I said suddenly concerned for Nicola.

               "Ray told us he left her with you."

               "That's right he did." I had to yell for a second as the 
               wheels of the train squealed against the rails as we titled 
               around a bend. "We separated soon after that. I don't know 
               where she is."

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                                        31.


               "Hey don't worry about her so much. She can do better than 
               survive on her own; she ran our best scams, Tannis only acts 
               like our leader. He freaked out when she followed you. He 
               knew how important she is to us. We're so disorganized right 
               now he'd do anything to have her back."

               "I've got to find her." I remembered that when I was arrested 
               the cops put her in another car. I thought she had betrayed 
               me but the cops were sent by the Red and Whites to collect 
               me. I knew they would be the ones to know. But I couldn't 
               let Wen find out what I was up to or that I could know where 
               Nicola was.

               'Hey, don't go running off now. The cops must still be after 
               you," Wen said. She relaxed again and changed her attitude, 
               "Well, you know, I wouldn't be surprised if the cops were 
               following us now. We could do something like leave money 
               scattered on the ground again to slow them down." Wen smiled 
               and reached across the long seat and cupped her damp hand on 
               my cheek scar, "Nasty," she said. Then she stroked her thumb 
               across my lips. "That was fun that night wasn't it? - Stay 
               with me tonight? I've made enough of my own money to afford 
               my own flat. Tannis gets so jealous about me at the Rube's 
               house I had to get my own place to have any privacy. You 
               come home with me and I promise that I won't do anything 
               that you hadn't already fantasized about."

               Nervously I laughed. I wondered if the spit had dried on me. 
               I steadily needed more air so I left my mouth open to make 
               it easier to breathe. I was so attracted to her I started to 
               shiver a little. Her tight mini-skirt had rolled up her legs 
               just from sheer desire, it was magic. She seemed uncomfortable 
               in her seat and she spread open then closed her smooth legs 
               until she was able to have the hem roll up on more time and 
               show me her lavender underwear.

               "Okay, I'll stay with you," I said.

               III

               Even though I could see how the seams of her panties grabbed 
               the sides of her sheath and squeezed it into a soft welcoming 
               hello, I couldn't stop looking into the shadowy areas for 
               more of her body. Then, questions she was trying to ask began 
               dividing my attention. She wanted to know what had happened 
               to me after I smashed the table in the cafe. At first that 
               reminder embarrassed me. I didn't think she would know about 
               it. But I recovered and told her I wandered the streets and 
               slept in doorways for two nights; that I had only just bought 
               the clothes that I wore before the rally because I discovered 
               in myself my true vocation in life and I was about to start 
               my life over again.

               "To start riots is your new vocation?"

               I must have turned red but I was able to deflect it by asking 
               her why she was there. She said she went for fun.

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                                                                        32.


               The ride on the subway was so long and I wondered where she 
               was taking me. Eventually we reached the end of the line, 
               the Richmond Hill Station. She held me by the hand and led 
               me to the street level. I felt happy to hold her hand but 
               scared too for some reason.

               We walked in the sunshine further north along Yonge Street. 
               The way we held hands, interlocking the fingers, we couldn't 
               help touching each other in different ways. Our hands bumped 
               each others hips and our forearms brushed while we changed 
               finger positions. Then Wen held my hand tight and stopped 
               walking. I stopped and she pulled me closer to her body. 
               With her free hand she lightly held my chin and moved her 
               lips closer to mine and just as she was going to go on her 
               toes to close the gap I pulled my head away.  I had to blink. 
               I couldn't figure out why I was so scared. I could see in 
               the occasional glance that I was brave enough to take of her 
               that she still wanted me.

               Wen dragged me on towards her goal. We crossed the noisy 
               traffic of Yonge Street to a narrow residential street and 
               walked west until we came to a semi-detached house. Wen took 
               me to a side entrance. She lived in the back half of it - 
               not a large enough space to make a comfortable flat, but it 
               seemed an appropriate place for Wen to take R and R, or in 
               Wen's case, F and F.

               Once she had me in her room, she locked the door behind me 
               and hooked a finger on a belt loop of my pants then pulled 
               me towards her bed. I stood in front of her. With both hands 
               she grabbed the rim of my pants and undid the top button. 
               Just as she was searching for a grip on the zipper's tab I 
               spun away from her and did up the top button again.

               "Come on! What is wrong with you?" Wen cried.

               "I don't know, I'm really nervous!"

               "Well, get your goddamn act together!" She was so upset she 
               threw down a condom she had hidden in her palm. Wen couldn't 
               look at me as I walked around her room to the opposite side 
               of the bed from her.

               "You know, I changed my hair to get you. See that," she 
               pointed at her head, "I don't make it stand up anymore. And 
               see, I'm letting it grow on the sides. You're so bloody 
               conservative that ... You know, it just struck me you're 
               just like someone who never had sex before."

               "I've had sex!"

               "Yeah! At birth with your mother."

               "With Z... My girlfriend."

               "From the look of it, your experience would be no different 
               either way."

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                                                                        33.


               "I'm not used to other women, okay?"

               "What a joke." She got up off her bed and walked out of her 
               room.

               "I'm sorry!" I yelled but she probably didn't hear.

               I sat down on her bed, so upset I had to grab the bed post 
               to stop myself from collapsing on the mattress. In front of 
               me I could see her backyard. It was overgrown and a rotten 
               apple tree blocked light from getting in the window. I had 
               never picked an apple from a tree before, so I stood up opened 
               the window and twisted one off a branch. But the last tug I 
               took to get it off sent a shower of other ones smashing on 
               the ground. My fingers sunk into the one I plucked. I threw 
               it down and wiped my hands on the window sill.

               Wen didn't know what she was talking about. Zinta and I had 
               made love many times - I was just being loyal to her. She 
               had just been murdered and I was responsible for letting it 
               happen. It wasn't the time to fool around on her. It was the 
               time to find out who really killed her. Those two cops must 
               have done it and I was sure they were renegades. The Red and 
               White's would have nothing to do with them. The cops that 
               arrested me knew nothing about Zinta while the ones that 
               followed me to my wedding knew. They had to be renegades. I 
               could find them. I knew I could. And I was going to find 
               Nicola too. This was no time to fool around with Wen. I 
               decided to leave.

               I walked to the edge of her room and looked out. She wasn't 
               in the eating area or the kitchen. I leaned on the door frame 
               and called out for her. She answered from the basement. I 
               yelled to her as I walked towards the main door to let myself 
               out that it was time for me to go. "I think you would prefer 
               that I went somewhere else! Okay? I'm just going to let myself 
               out! Alright? Here I go!"  I pulled open the door when I 
               heard her behind me. To be polite I turned to say good-bye 
               to her face. She was visibly angry but hopeful, maybe even 
               vengeful. Then I looked down at her body. She had peeled off 
               her mini-skirt and was wearing only a lavender thong panty 
               and no top. The last time I had seen a thong like it I had 
               been pulling one down with my teeth from Zinta's waist.

               "No, Wen" I said, "I must go. I must go."

               "Do you remember what we wanted you to get from the post 
               office!"

               "Yeah, the package. Have you got it now?" I took a step 
               backwards into the dark alcove and felt around for the last 
               door handle.

               "it was only a cake after all - " She lifted a pistol from 
               behind her back until the darkness of the hollow barrel 
               extended into my sight and puffed a glowing dot that divided 
               the air by my right ear with a snap, a slight breeze, and an 
               explosion of the wood behind me. I froze.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                                        34.


               "-With three inedible plastic guns." She lowered the gun 
               with a smile. Then she stepped towards me lifting the gun 
               again, high enough to pry apart the top button of my pants 
               and lead me with the other hand by the zipper tab into her 
               bedroom. Using the warm pistol barrel like I used my fingers 
               she slipped off my pants then pushed me down and pulled off 
               my clothes. She straddled over me as I lay on my back and 
               she perceptively took what I knew to be my largest finger. 
               Using the gun stuck into my stomach as a way to balance over 
               me she shivered when she stroked the surface of her clitoris 
               with my hijacked finger.

               I wasn't thinking of resisting but of how to get involved.

               Wen pulled my finger up and down over her thong, while I 
               looked at the base of her smooth breasts, until she finally 
               sunk my finger through her wet surface, straight inside; 
               then I was ready for her.

               "I'll do it for you!" I said with a dry voice.

               "You can forget it!" she said while she kept on with exactly 
               what she had been doing all along.

               'At least she likes me,' I thought when she silently opened 
               her mouth and reached inside of her inner body to find that 
               complete, inspired sexual tremble. She came.

               IV

               Once would be enough for me, but she thrust her sheath back 
               on my finger again when I tried to take it out and kept 
               herself coming until her vocal rumblings climaxed and she 
               threw the gun on the floor. She fell forward onto my chest 
               twisting my head back. She yelled from the pain my levered 
               finger caused inside her until she lifted her hips off me 
               and I took it out. Then she fell back down again and rolled 
               to my side. I felt my body with my dry hand and realized I 
               had come too - only a little thought.

               "Don't even think about going for the gun," she said getting 
               up and picking up the gun, but not pointing it at me. "It's 
               so hard to get a gun in this fucked country. There's no way 
               you'd get out of here with it while I'm around. Get your 
               clothes and get out."

               I stood up wiping off my finger on the edge of the bed and 
               then got dressed. I was really upset about what she did. But 
               I was in no position to complain. I decided to get out as 
               quickly as possible. At that point I suddenly recalled that 
               the Red and Whites said that they had an operation against 
               the Rubes involving a special device which was probably the 
               package. If the package contained guns it was obviously going 
               to be a serious operation, perhaps to charge the Rubes with 
               gun possession. But three guns between ten people didn't 
               seem an effective tactic. I wasn't going to warn her after 
               what she did to me and after being kicked out of their group. 
               I had my revenge by not telling her; I smiled at her to show

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                                                                        35.


               her that I still had a reserve of dignity as I walked out 
               the door.

               I walked back to Richmond Hill Station and took the train 
               south and thought about where to go next. I didn't know if I 
               should go back to Front Street to see my office or go back 
               to the Barracks in Scarborough. I tried to decide based on 
               my desire to find Nicola and whoever killed Zinta. I thought 
               that it would be best to have the computer to help me discover 
               both answers and it was the Dominion Building on Front I 
               headed to.

               I'd been smelling something unpleasant for some time as I 
               sat on the subway so I looked around to see what it was. I 
               looked under the seat and on the back rest until I realized 
               it was my hand. More exactly, my victimized finger. I put it 
               against my nose, then repulsed, I sat on it.

               It was rush hour on the subway by the time I arrived at Union 
               Station. I walked through the crowds across Bay Street into 
               the postal building, the way I'd entered when I had been 
               looking for the customs job on the first day. The man that 
               had hired me wasn't there. I walked down some empty corridors 
               looking for the way into the Red and Whites' basement offices 
               but couldn't find the way. I was too lazy to want to walk 
               all the way around the building to the proper entrance so I 
               went looking for short cuts in dead ends and by other wasteful 
               methods. Eventually, I went into an office and asked a 
               receptionist how to get into the basement and he told me 
               there was no way into the basement. I gave up and walked all 
               the way around to the back and as far as the thick security 
               doors. I buzzed and someone grumbled through teh intercom, 
               "Use your pass or go through the front of the building."

               "Hey, I wasn't given one."

               "Then go through the front."

               "Bill didn't give me one."

               "What's your name."

               "Bernard Kimosa."

               He didn't reply and I waited for something to happen. n a 
               minute or more Bill came to the door and let me in.

               "Sorry for not giving you a pass. It was so hectic here I 
               just forgot," said Bill. "Hey, I heard you did a good job at 
               the riot. Some good copy is going to go over the wire right 
               now. We're cleaning it up. It needs it... I've got to remember 
               that we still haven't trained you yet. You're such a natural 
               at this it's easy to forget. Let's go back to your office 
               and I'll try and get you caught up.

               We walked to the office Bill had given me the day before. He 
               told me to sit in front of the computer terminal. He sat on 
               the side table and began to explain.

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                                                                        36.


               "The Red and Whites are a patriotic group made up of what 
               are in fact the only true citizens left in this country. 
               There are some of us in government no matter which party's 
               in power, but we always have work to do. We're allies of 
               these good people but not slaves. They can't manipulate us. 
               Our agendas are the same - that's our link. I bet you often 
               wondered why crime is so rare in Canada, why we live so long, 
               why teh economy is always growing, why, even, that we're so 
               happy about our whole society. The reason is that the Red 
               and Whites manage it all. That is what we do. We recognized 
               long ago that the faith in Canada is what keeps it together. 
               Not the programs or the investments. The faith inthe results. 
               Not the resutls themselves. Just by maintaining that faith 
               in a pragmatic fashion throughout the country, the country 
               had indeed become great. And you may find this hard to 
               believe, our greatest ally and enemy in this battle is 
               freedom. We have had to maintain the personal identification 
               everybody had with freedom to keep this faith in the country 
               and at the same time, stop the rot it creates in that faith. 
               People start to think it's okay to steal, pollute, and commit 
               suicide. We cannot be free to think this way if we, the rest 
               of us, cherish life in all its glory."

               I was so impressed with his comments I didn't mind being 
               told that we weren't with the government after all. We did 
               have good reasons to have done things like creating the riot. 
               It all seemed to fit perfectly with my search for Zinta's 
               killers and for Nicola.The cops that arrested her might even 
               have been the same ones that killed Zinta.

               "What is that smell?" asked Bill. "There's a bit of apple 
               smell to it but something else too."

               I sat on my finger again.

               "Oh, I can't figure it out. It's gone now. Back to my intro. 
               Let me think ... Freedom. The funny thing is we're all free 
               whether we're limited only by gravity or by a commie state. 
               Our minds make the real limitations and our mind can deny, 
               if it wants to, anything from a commie state to gravity. 
               'The Context Rules'  explains it all.

               "We have a big job to do here. Sometimes it stinks to do 
               what we must do, but we do it. And sometimes we fail. Like 
               when three year olds got the vote. But today we have the 
               most serious fight we've ever had to fight and we're going 
               to win this one. I can feel it. I think I should give you 
               teh details. We'll use your terminal. Get off your hands for 
               a second and get your hands moving on the keyboard. I want 
               you to call up... Well?"

               "Yeah ... can I go to the washroom first?" I didn't want him 
               to figure what smell I had on my hand. He pointed the way 
               and I went. After I used the facilities I waved my hand in 
               front of my face to smell it then I put the finger under my 
               nose and smelled the residue of Wen. Unless I put it under 
               someone else's nose I didn't think I needed to worry anymore.

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                                                                        37.


               I tried to decide how to bring up my search for Zinta's 
               killers and for Nicola, while I combed my hair. The problem 
               was that nobodyseemed to acknowledge that I just lost the 
               woman I loved. I wasn't even sure they knew she was dead. 
               Julie knew and she even suspected me. I did hurt Zinta, but 
               I never did anything like that before. I knew that I'd passed 
               out from teh crystal drug for some time before I found Zinta's 
               body in my flat - it was such a horrible scene. I was sure 
               that I had nothing to do with her ending up dead on the floor 
               in that position. I knew I had nothing to do with it.

               I took a deep breath and left the washroom while scratching 
               my itchy scar. I decided I wouldn't mention Nicola because 
               the operation against her friends meant that they probably 
               didn't like her either. I figured I would know how to find 
               her once I found the two cops.

               In a minute I was back with Bill. I checked a clock and 
               realized it was late. I noticed how empty the office was and 
               suggested to Bill that we go. He agreed and said I was such 
               a natural he'd be surprised if I couldn't work it all out on 
               my own.

               "I'll need help on one problem," I said. "My girlfriend was 
               killed recently and our apartment set on fire by two cops." 
               I began to lose any subtlety.

               Bill was shocked, "I thought you set your building on fire. 
               And your girlfriend ...is dead? It said in your file you set 
               fire to your building. Your girlfriend is dead too? You must 
               feel terrible. First your parents now the other person that 
               was important to you." He put his arm around my shoulder 
               which irritated me, "I feel so sorry for you. I know who can 
               help you - Perry. I don't know if I told you about him. Oh, 
               I remember mentioning him at the pep talk I gave ou guys."

               "The one with the sick wife?"

               "That's the one. He founded the Red and Whites years ago. 
               He's a great man. If it was two cops that killed your 
               girlfriend he would know how to find them in a minute. Come 
               on I"ll take you to him."

               He and I walked out of the office through the security doors 
               and into the parking lot. Just as we were getting into bill's 
               car, and '41 scotai, someone shouted to us. We both looked 
               up to see Joe walking towards us, his clothes ripped and his 
               face cut.

               "Sorry for the delay in getting them to let you out of jail," 
               said Bill. "Sometimes they're just plain slow. But great job 
               today, Joe, I heard all about it." Then turning to me he 
               said, "Both of you did a good job."

               He invited Joe to come with us and we drove off together. I 
               was disgusted with Joe and what he did at the rally - his 
               viciousness. But I wasn't going to let on. Bill kept on 
               telling us how the media was going to report the rally, but

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                                                                        38.


               I wasn't listening. I was looking out the window anxious to 
               meet Perry and get those murdering cops.

               We drove from the encroaching darkness into the floodlights 
               of Scarborough General Hospital's parking lot. Bill took me 
               to the room Perry was using. Perry looked like the patient 
               at first but I saw his wife in the other bed when I walked 
               further into the room. At the foot of his wife's bed was a 
               TV. I guessed that it was this unsteady light that made Perry 
               look sick.

               Bill at first apologizing for disturbing Perry then introduced 
               me and turned to leave.

               "I'm taking Joe home while you talk," Bill said to me. "I'll 
               come back in a little while."

               Perry opened his eyes wider to focus on me. I could see that 
               even if the TV light wasn't on his face he would still look 
               sick. He couldn't have been older than fifty. It was his 
               wife that was supposed to be sick. She was asleep while I 
               quietly waited for Perry to say something.

               "Hey, come here Bernard. You're on TV," Perry said.

               "I hope not," I said.

               "Well your operation is. Congratulations on your first 
               operation well done. Watch how this TV station deals with 
               the riot. This one is the most difficult to keep on a leash -  
               Hey! Don't worry about what you say here. This is a secure 
               area."

               "Okay."

               I pulled up a chair beside Perry and watched pictures of 
               beatings and masses of people being herded by police on 
               horseback while the comentator said that swastika-toting Yes 
               supporters led the charge up the ramp to beat the No 
               supporters - overwhelmed despite their numbers by the sticks 
               and bottle-wielding troublemakers. And to my astonishment 
               they had a clip to illustrate supposed fact. The commentator 
               mentioned that police only intervened with the horses after 
               fifteen minutes and they had even attacked peaceful No 
               protestors. But when the picture of the attacked No side was 
               shown it was a picture of the mothers that had spit at me, 
               the ones that were with the Yes supporters. I had no pride 
               for what I did when I saw Joe on the screen with a swastika 
               on his arm beating a mother that was protecting her child.

               "That is really unfortuante," Perry stated with indifference. 
               "Now Joe won't be able to work in public for quite a while."

               "You think that would be unfortunate?" I said as my 
               astonishment made me crook my neck forward to take a closer 
               look at him, "Um ... he doesn't deserve to work with us. Did 
               yousee what he did? He's vicious."

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                                        39.


               "Knowing that came from you, I'll just ignore that" Perry 
               said choking with emotion. "Would you like to meet my 
               beautiful wife? Bernard, this is Samantha. Samantha is in a 
               coma. The doctors tell me she's in stable condition, but 
               I've spent my life telling white lies and I know they're 
               just telling me that because they don't want me to lose hope."

               Perry sat up in his chair and looked at me directly. "I love 
               her. More than I ever realized before. Once I considered the 
               Red and Whites my important ...love - I don't know how else 
               to put it. Now I know that the Red and Whites are much bigger 
               and self-managed than I  ever intended - it's not part of me 
               any longer. But Samantha, I love on my scale. And she loves 
               me.

               "Bill is in charge now. I don't know why he would bring you 
               to me. He doesn't know everything but he knows I haven't 
               been running things since Monday, and never will again. But 
               what can I do for you?"

               "I'm looking for two policemen.t"

               "Yes?"

               "I was told you could find them."

               "Yes, I can find any policemn you want; but I would like to 
               know why you're looking for two policemen."

               "I know in my file it says that my girlfriend was with me 
               after the fire at my flat, but she was killed before the 
               fire by two policemen."

               "Interesting."

               "What is?"

               "Let me ask you a question that I've probably never let myself 
               ask any of my employees. Why do you think you were hired by 
               me?"

               "I don't know. Because of my Cadet record?"

               "That's a laugh. Where do you think I found Joe?"

               "I don't know."

               "Guyana. On death row. If you knew anything about the place 
               you would know that only politically motivated murders have 
               the death penalty there. Now don't go around with the idea 
               you're better than Joe you're not. I'm not going to spoil 
               whatever fantasy you've concocted to maintain your innocence 
               of conscience. Just let me suggest that since you've come 
               this far with us that you don't ruin a career here by 
               disclaiming any credit we benevolently give you. Just try to 
               believe you set your flat on fire."

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                                                                        40.


               "I don't care aBout the fire. It's my girlfriend I care 
               about."

               "I'm glad to hear you care. That's enough talk about the 
               issue."

               "The two cops killed her!"

               "Okay! That's it! I've heard enough!" Perry's face ws purple. 
               "No! Youknow - I haven't! Listen to me you stupid little ... 
               hypocrite. you think all your life that your parents were 
               murdered and everybody lets you believe it. What did that 
               fantasy do to you? Did it suggest the sickness of anurder to 
               come. Well I have a suggestion for you. Commit suicide. You 
               see, when you were eight you weren't told your parents were 
               dead. Come on, reach back in that little mind and remember 
               the way you said it happened - the way you told the police 
               it happened.

               "First you said there was only one gun. Right! Then your 
               parents were talking about suicide when you walked in on 
               them in thier room. Your mother called you over next to her. 
               Your mother tells your father she'll do it to you. Then your 
               father asks to go first so as not to see you get shot. You 
               don't know what they're talking about until your father grabs 
               the gun from your mother., drops to his knees then puts it 
               up and blow his head away in a second. Your mother's calling 
               your father a coward as she forgets all about you and puts 
               the gun to her head and pulls the trigger. That is what 
               happened.

               "For years I've seen these files cross my desk of recruits 
               that ignore the terrible things that have happened to them, 
               just to survive, and it always backfires - they do something 
               dumb ... I shouldn't blame you I guyess - I'm just worried 
               about my wife somuch and I can't stand the sight of someone 
               who doesn't even care that he's murdered the one person that 
               ever loved him. How could I make up excuses for you? There 
               is no excuse is there? Except that we need killers. I'm 
               ashamed of myself because of needing people like you."

               I ached to rebut him somehow. He really went too far making 
               these claims about my parents. I said, "I just wanted to 
               find out who killed my girlfriend. I think that says I care."

               "Holy God, just consider this an experiment, okay?  Bernard, 
               youkilled Zinta."

               "I did not. I did beat her up, but she was alive when I left. 
               I came back to find her dead in a messed up apartment not 
               even near the place I last saw her."

               "Those two cops that you think killed her are my best cops. 
               Their reports state they arrived at your apartment building 
               an hour before your laughable wedding. They were in your 
               apartment setting up the fire bomb to kill that political 
               jerk, the one that tried to pass the Holdstem Law. When they 
               heard the fight between you two they went to investigate and

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                                                                        41.


               saw your door open and the mess inside. They knew we needed 
               new recruits and thought you were perfect. What can I say? 
               What are you worried about? We know you did it. The cops 
               don't care. You'll never go to trial for it. You're free to 
               do as you please. Just admit it and get it over with."

               "I never did it, okay?" I insisted.

               "Well, God, even the honest truth doesn't work. I guess 
               setting up the Red and Whites was a good idea after all. If 
               they can't see the truth in its most obvious state, when 
               theyd o it themselves, than I guess you do need to trick 
               them to get them to see it. It's time for you to go Bernard. 
               I'm sick of the sight of you. Take off.

               "I'm getting them to take you off tomorrow's assignment. You 
               won't be in the right mood. I guess I should thank you for 
               getting me upset. It occupied me for a little."

               Standing up again I had to stretch my back. I said good-bye 
               to Perry but he didn't respond. He stopped looking at his 
               dying wife and sunk again in his chair; he looked as likely 
               to die as his wife  did.

               I walked down the front steps of the hospital to wait for 
               Bill. It was a clear night with the brightest stars visible 
               despite the atmospheric glow coming from the city. I sat 
               down on a bench and checked a watch the Red and Whites gave 
               me that morning with the rest of my clothes. 'Thurs Oct 7, 
               8:31.' October third was the last time I wanted to know the 
               date, the day Zinta died: October fourth was the wedding - 
               and Perry expected me to believe that Zinta died an hour 
               before the wedding! Impossible.

               'Who are these people?' I was thinking, 'To say I could kill 
               her. I'm too gentle, too kind - okay, I hurt Zinta terribly. 
               That was the exception. Even at the riot I didn't get violent; 
               I was even worried for the kids. At one point I was even 
               going to tell the cops all about it. Who is there to confess 
               to now? The cops aren't even going to care. They would send 
               me back to the Red and Whites. Where is Justice?' I shook my 
               head at the world as Bill drove up beside me.

               "Let's go," Bill said. I was in the care when I thought of 
               the assignment Perry mentioned that I wouldn;t be allowed to 
               participate in. I asked Bill what my job would be for the 
               next day. I counted on Perry not having the time to tell 
               Bill I was out of it.

               "Do you recall those kids ou stayed with for a few days?"

               "Of course."

               "We wanted to rid the streets of that scum element for some 
               time, but they're more obvious than our regular hit. We 
               couldn't be surgical with nine kids all sticking together. 
               We decided on a raid a while ago and gave them some guns to 
               fight back with when we did make the raid. The new media

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                                                                        42.


               will be with us. Friday's a good time for the raid. The news 
               blackout on the referendum starts Saturday and we can make 
               this gang look like a cell of foreign agents armed and working 
               for the Yes forces. If it's violent enough it will be on 
               national news and analyzed until next week, as the vote goes 
               on.We want you to warn them we're coming."

               "Are you serious?" I said, unable to see the whole scheme, 
               but more surprised than anything with the mass murder being 
               discussed. My recruitment by the Red and Whites was just a 
               mistake after all. I wasn't a natural as Bill liked to say. 
               At the same time I felt fairly awful for letting the Rubes 
               get into this bad situation. I didn't like them, but that 
               was no reason to let them be killed. 'If only I told Wen to 
               be careful,' I thought. 'Wait. He wants me to warn them?'

               "Perry called me up on my way here. He wanted me to take you 
               off this assignment. After some discussion about it we decided 
               to give you this assignment instead. We want them to have 
               their guns ready when we enter; for the news media."

               He looked at me and smiled. Probably because I looked upset 
               with him.

               "You won't need to phone them until tomorrow," Bill said.

               I couldn't hold myself back. I said with restrained hatred, 
               "How can you be so cruel to people?"

               "You just stay in that mood until tomorrow and you'll be all 
               right."

               I refused to speak to him for the rest of the ride to the 
               barracks. He talked further on the Red and Whites; about the 
               limits and freedom within those limits and something else, 
               more about contexts, something about how contexts are the 
               most important element in debate. How to choose contexts to 
               your advantage. None of what he said sank in.

               Suddenly he mentioned a girl I was arrested with.

               "Her name is Nicola, I think."  He said, "She's going to be 
               the snitch that blows the whistle on this faux pas-ing cell 
               of spies." He laughed out loud.

               I was furious with him but I knew I needed to restrain myself.

               We arrived at the barracks and Bill told me to report to the 
               medical office to check up on my stitches. He pointed the 
               way when we entered the building and I went.

               I sat in the office waiting for the medic to arrive from 
               another part of the building. Once she arrived I was brought 
               into her office and she examined my cheek. "You have great 
               healing ability," she said. "The stiches are ready to come 
               out. I'm interested to see how the friction burns on your 
               hands are coming along."

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                                                                        43.


               She lifted my hands and saw as well as I that the burn marks 
               were still visible. "Let's just say you have great healing 
               ability on most of your body."

               She pulled out of her cabinets all the instruments she needed 
               then began by taking out the stiches inside my mouth, finding 
               that htey had already fallen out she hummed and moved on to 
               the ones on the outside. She told me to go and invited me 
               back for therapy whenever I needed it. I sucked at the 
               residual blood in mymouth fromt he needle puncture while I 
               walked out. Bill was outside the office waiting for me. He 
               took me to my dormitory hall and said goodnight.

               When I was ready for bed and sleep, I tried to figure out 
               how to warn the Rubes in time for them to avoid the raid 
               altogether. They wouldn't trust me. Nicola, I realized, could 
               do it - they trusted her. I needed to do so much just to 
               find Nicola. But once she was free to talk to the Rubes we 
               could warn them.

               I glanced through the dark at the guard's phone, light-
               emitting diodes pointed it out to me. When the guard walked 
               in front of the lights I lost hope of looking for Nicola 
               undetected.

               As I fell closer to sleep, my confidence grew again while I 
               worked on other ways to prove I could be a good guy.

               "No? Okay! We just got to go! The flagpole is too high forme," 
               I said from my dream. "It bends too much ..."

               I awoke in the bright light of the dorm at the cross-over 
               point between the dream and a flourescent nightmare of the 
               Red and Whites. One was no more real than the other and I 
               debated which was the more desirable. I lay my head back 
               down on the pillow while I made my choice.

               "Forget your stupid flags and get up." Joe was staring at me 
               in the face. I quickly sat up in the bed. He looked upset at 
               me and tugged at his mustache for something to do.

               "What's wrong?" I asked.

               "They cut me from today's action."

               "And ..."

               "I've got to babysit you."

               "Okay, don't do it. Go on your way - I won't tell." I was 
               rubbing my eyes and flicking the eye crud at Joe whenever he 
               looked away.

               'Oh my God.' I shocked myself by my casual attitude. 'I've 
               got to lose him.'

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                                                                        44.


               Joe, annoyed while debating with himself, finally answered, 
               "I can't leave you. I've orders from Bill. He wants me to 
               watch you until noon."

               "Look. Do I work here or not?"

               "Yeah. It's just until noon."

               "Did Bill say any reason for you to do this?"

               "No."

               "Then there's no reason to watch me is there?"

               "He said you were upset about your girlfriend."

               I was about to tap my forehead and try to explain that he 
               was an idiot, but I remembered some tact and proceeded in 
               another direction. "Let's go talk to Bill."

               I jumped off the bunk and got myself ready. Joe and I walked 
               towards the meeting hall and into the adjacent officers' 
               quarters. Bill came out to talk to us.

               "Weren't my orders simple enough for you Joe?" Bill snapped.

               "Yes sir," Joe replied.

               "Bill," I said, "I just wanted to know when I would be helping 
               your assignment today?"

               "Today obviously" Bill growled. "I have an announcement to 
               make in the assembly. Get over there. I've heard enough from 
               you two. We've a lot of work today. So just do what you're 
               told."

               Joe looked hurt by Bill; his eyes swelled enough to tell me 
               that. Bill turned away from us and returned to the officers' 
               quarters. Joe and I walked into the assembly and sat together 
               in the middle of it listening to Bill on the public address 
               system tell everyone without exception, to go to the assembly 
               hall too.

               "Bill can be mean sometimes," Joe told me.

               I tried to sympathize, "And he's nice sometimes too."

               "Yeah, I guess so."

               "Listen," I said, "followme around after the meeting.I have 
               a lot of things to do before noon."

               "Okay, great."

               Everybody started to come in including the two women that 
               picked me up from the hail; Susan and the other one, I 
               couldn't remember her name. Alison and the two men under her 
               came too. They all waved at me as they saw me.

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                                                                        45.


               When we were all seated we all had to wait another few minutes 
               for Bill to come in to address us. When he was ready to talk 
               to us he said, "This is bad news I must tell you today. Very 
               sad news. Perry's wife died last night. Perry has decided as 
               of thismorning to retire from the Red and Whites, effective 
               immediately. Reluctantly, I am now in total command. I hope 
               that, in my own turn, I cna eventually deserve the respect 
               that Perry has earned from you great bunch of people. That's 
               all I have to say for the present. I will give you all time 
               to show your respects to Perry about his wife once the present 
               campaign is completed." Bill paused and bit a lip. He then 
               finished, "Perry doesn't look all that well himself ... let's 
               all pray for Perry too."

               Bill walked out while Alison came up to me. "I can't believe 
               it," Alison said, "Perry is such a good man. I don't know 
               how we're going to do without him running things. Hey, 
               Bernard, nice job yesterday. But looks like I've got to give 
               you up to Bill today. I guess he thinks you still need some 
               training."

               "He didn't tell me."

               "Hey, well you better run after him."

               I left Alison behind to go look for Bill. Joe tagged along.

               I knocked on the door of the officers' quarters again and 
               once again Bill looked upset at Joe and I.

               I quickly spoke up, "My squad leader told me I was going 
               with you today."

               "oh, damn. I forgot. Right, we'll do the phone call from the 
               office. I need to command today's operation from the office. 
               Go wait for me at my car. I'll be there in a minute. Joe, 
               you come with us."

               Joe and I hesitated as Bill turned away from us but eventually 
               we walked out together and waited at Bill's car. Bill arrived 
               and we all drove together to the Red and Whites' office on 
               Front Street. I let us in the office with my new security 
               card. Bill spoke to Joe with divided attention. He said, 
               "Right, Joe. See if you can teach anything to this guy, okay? 
               I've got a lot to do right now, if you don't mind."

               I realized this would be the chance I had been waiting for 
               to warn the Rubes and find out where Nicola was. I didn't 
               hesitate.

               "Let's go tomy office, Joe, so you can teach me some of the 
               skills I'll be needing. You know, access codes or something 
               in that area. I'm glad we have most of the day off. I'm not 
               sure I'm ready to tackle these big assignments yet."

               Joe and I went and sat at my terminal. At first all I could 
               think of was phoning the Rubes early enought o get them out 
               of their house in time. Or at least to surrender outside

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                                        46.


               their house in view of the public. With the terminal in front 
               of me and Joe beside me I recalled Nicola using the Rubes' 
               terminal. I quickly recalled their terminal's access code, 
               606 Brown Sugar Pie and decided it was best to get Joe out 
               of the way.

               "You know something Joe, I forgot to get something to eat 
               this morning. I just took a drink from the tap in torm 
               washroom. We were in such a rush. You know? Did you get a 
               chance to get a bite?"

               "Hey no, I didn't. Want me to grab you something from the 
               cafeteria?"

               "Yeah. I'll just see what the journalists are up to. Okay?"

               Joe left me and I sent a message to the Rubes' terminal on 
               constant re-dial to wait for a response. The message said 
               'Raid imminent. Intent is to kill you all. Leave area NOW. 
               Or surrender NOW outside. Time 10:27 am. Nicola.'

               Joe came back while I let the re-dial work off screen. I was 
               so hungry crumbs of a muffin Joe had handed me fell all over 
               the keyboard - Joe punched me in the arm to stop me doing 
               it.

               "Sorry," I mumbled, spilling more crumbs from my lips.

               "You haven't even gotten into a terminal yet. What have you 
               been doing?"

               "I don't know how."

               "Why didn't you tell me?" He leaned over me and with the one 
               finger technique of a technologically illiterate person, 
               showed me everything I already knew. He did get into a 
               jounralist's terminal though and together we talked over 
               whether it needed meddling or not. Then we saw that it was 
               being changed by someone else. We watched a battle develop 
               between the journalist and the other more sinister writer 
               until the journalist gave in at the hint that he had gone 
               too far in defending his article.

               Then Joe snapped, "What a coward that journalist is. If he 
               just stood up for himself once in a while he'd do okay."

               Joe taught me more about what the Red and Whites expect me 
               to do. But he kept on stopping to think about what he was 
               talking about. On one of these moments when I looked away 
               from Joe for something more interesting I could see a crowd 
               down the office heading away from us. Someone was in cuffs. 
               I forgot about Joe and stood up to get a better look and saw 
               short feathered red hair. It was Nicola! I sat down in my 
               chair again while Joe took his turn at looking to see who it 
               was.

               "Hey, it's the girl their going to film. Boy, is she ever 
               beautiful. From the backside at least." Joe laughed.

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                                                                        47.


               'What a jerk,' I thought. 'Christ, that guy bugs me.'

               I recalled Bill telling me that Nicola was going to be 
               portrayed as the snitch against the Rubes. They were taking 
               her away from the exit so I assumed it was to some kind of 
               studio in the building. I wanted to follow immediately but 
               Joe was there.

               The window of time in which to act to save Nicola was getting 
               tighter with every passing second. I had to hurry and get 
               Joe out of the way. He was an easy challenge. He was only a 
               stupid killer without the benefit of the Cadet training that 
               every real Canadian had, but I didn't want to hurt him - 
               after all I wasn't a violent person. Despite the time 
               considerations I decided on non-violent action.

               I started to cough not sure what I was going to do next. I 
               coughed louder and animated my facial expressions until I 
               looked like I was sucking a car exhaust. Partsof the muffin 
               I'd been eating splattered on the screen. Joe was much taller 
               than me but weak. I just wanted to shut him up and get him 
               out of the way to go fter Nicola. As I coughed I bent over 
               and almost threw up. That's when I thought of throwing up 
               deliberately. Without Joe seeing, I stuck my finger down  my 
               throat and convulsed all over the place. i was so repulsed 
               by the bits of muffina nd bile that I threw up again, every 
               scrap left in my stomach. I tried to tell Joe the muffin was 
               bad.

               "Oh! Oh - go get something for me," I said before my last 
               heave, a dry one.

               Joe ran out and I discovered a small audience was observing 
               the scene. Somehow I knew I tried to wrong tactic if I was 
               trying to help Nicola. I told everybody looking at me that I 
               was all right and Joe could look after me. They went away 
               and I thought of checking the terminal to see if the Rubes 
               had picked up my message. They had. I was so happy to succeed 
               in that respect that when Joe cameback with a bucket and 
               towel over his arm, I was smiling at him.

               "Was the vomit satisfactory, sir?" Joe took a deep breath 
               out in the corridor and then threw the towel on the vomit to 
               begin cleaning it up for me. Joe's touch of humour made me 
               decide against hurting him at all, even thogh I was getting 
               desperate for time.

               "Joe? Did yousee Bill on your way here?"

               "No!"

               "Do you want me to call him down again to tell you. Or do 
               you want me just to tell you and save him the trouble?" I 
               said while bobbing my head around trying to get to look 
               directly at me.

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                                                                        48.


               "Save me the trouble, will you? But just talk in the direction 
               of the wall. Your barf-breath is coming right in my face, I 
               can't hold my breath and talk too."

               "Okay, sorry," I said while covering my mouth. Bill wants 
               you to join up with your squad again. It's noon you know."

               "It's just after eleven."

               "What do you think noon is, a certain time or something?! 
               It's only a rough time! Okay, ask Bill if you want! He went 
               back up to the studio. I'm going to be making the call he 
               wanted me to make in a couple of minutes. Come with me! I'll 
               ask him to come out to repeat his instructions."

               "Forget it. It's what I wanted to do anyway. I'll see you 
               later I just hope i'm not too late to get in on the action."

               Joe hurried out of the building and left me free to help 
               Nicola.

               'Bill's got to be doing the interview with Nicola by now.'

               I sat in my office thinking and looking out the glass, 'If 
               he wanted to be with me when I make the phone call I guess 
               he's going to wait until he finishes.' I stood up and 
               stretched to get ready to save Nicola. But to succeed this 
               time I was going to need to have less physical inspirations 
               hurling out of my head.

               The first thing I did was to go to the rest room to clean up 
               and use some of their stocked mouthwash. This was going to 
               be smooth, I insisted to myself. I was going to walk straight 
               to where Nicola was and tell them ...

               'What am I going to say?' I thought to myself. 'There's a 
               fire? No. The alarm would go off first. You know all I need 
               is to have a reason to go to the studio. The studio would be 
               a lousy place to help Nicola though. I should wait until 
               they finish in the studio and follow them to a place I could 
               trick whoever has her to let me have her. That's it. Damn! I 
               forgot I have little time to get her. They're going to realize 
               I tipped off the Rubes. Joe, that's it, I'll tell Bill 
               something bad about Joe, something he will be upset about. 
               That Joe disappeared. That's it!'

               I checked my breath with my hand to my mouth. Walking out of 
               the washroom, I worried about what Nicola was going through. 
               This  worrying may have been showing too many signs of 
               nervousness to allow me to succeed this time, but I had to 
               keep on going - I had to do something for Nicola.

               When I came out of the washroom I went to ask the first man 
               I saw how to get to the studio. He told me and I proceeded 
               in the direction he'd pointed. I was confident. I had nothing 
               to hide.

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                                                                        49.


               When I came to the stuido door I thought it best not to kncok 
               in case they'd started recording something. I pushed the 
               door open and creeped through a little corridor until I came 
               to anopen door to a production control room. There Bill sat 
               alone with his back to me. In front of him on the other side 
               of a glass sound barrier was a man in a bunny suit, his back 
               to me but facing Nicola and holding a baseball bat. I watched 
               in silent terror over Nicola from the door. I knew the bunny 
               trick from 'The Context Rules'. It said it was a psychological 
               torture method where physical beatings were given by powerful 
               icons from an individual's childhood. I knew then how bad 
               things were becoming for her. I watched in fear for her until 
               I saw the bunny man back away from Nicola to a less 
               threatening distance.

               The studio lights prevented her from seeing to the other 
               side of the glass to Bill and I. Beside Bill was an array of 
               monitors with Nicola's face repeated over most of them. One 
               monitor was the exception, it seemed to be hooked up to a 
               remote camera in some other part of town. It was hand held - 
               not exactly - it was attached to something long and thin, 
               and moved so unsteadily all I could see was that it was 
               shooting down into the ground along a sidewalk and the lawns 
               it passed.

               Bill seemed saddened by something and he didn't seem to feel 
               my presence for a long time. Then he turned in his chair. I 
               heard the beeping that a phone receiver sends out when its 
               been off the hook for too long. He was slowly putting down 
               the receiver that had been craddled in his arms. Bill looked 
               around the floor with tears dripping off his cheeks then 
               heput his hand back on the phone as though he was about to 
               pick it up again. He didn't.

               I waited to hear what Bill was about to do. Then he changed 
               his mind and flicked a switch that turned on the sound from 
               the studio.

               "...nk so big of yourself that you would give up your life 
               for people you deserted a few days ago. You didn't even care 
               ..." I knew I had to do something as I listenened to how 
               close I was to losing Nicola to these hypocrites.

               On the bunny man droned at Nicola, "You say everything I 
               tell you with conviction or you won't live long enough to 
               even plot your revenge."

               Nicola readied a reply. "You don't have to go through all 
               your stock phrases. I'll do it if you can give me a chance 
               to relax."

               Bill glanced up at me to see if I was looking at him. He 
               looked ashamed of his tears. Then he became indignant with 
               my presence and snapped, "Perry died. Perry's dead, Bernard. 
               You can't know what this means to me. I guess his wife's 
               death was too much of a blow to him."

               "How did it happen?"

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                                        50.


               Bill ignored me, he only repeated his lamentations "Perry... 
               tried to give the world all he ahd to give. He ... was such 
               a great man."

               I looked back at the bank of monitors and even though eight 
               of them had Nicola's face on them the ninth one had my full 
               attention.

               The camera's perspective had stopped moving and was placed 
               on a wood slat floor.

               "People like you broke his heart. He worked his whole life..."

               I noticed on the monitor that the person with the camera had 
               picked it up off the wood floor and pointed the lens at the 
               ceiling while the barrel of a rifle sat next to it.

               I started to panic.

               I looked over at Nicola's face on the other monitors as she 
               was coached through every line she said into the camera. 
               "Say it again! We'll edit it later!" the bunny man yelled at 
               her, straining the monitor's speakers.

               So many things were happening around me. I had a hard time 
               following Bill's point. "I'm upset at the moment, Bernard. I 
               guess I should tell you but I'm having a hard time believing 
               it's right. Perry ...you know that Perry's wife died last 
               night. Well something unexpected happened just a few minutes 
               ago ... He wasn't even sick with anything ... Perry had 
               nothing wrong with him..."

               I let him break the news to me again while I watched the odd 
               monitor.

               "You know how much his wife meant to him ...Perry lay next 
               to his wife every night to be with her and when she died it 
               was too much for him. He ...he loved her so much he couldn't 
               live without her, I guess. you see the thing is - he died 
               ten minutes ago in the bed that she had died in!"

               "Say it again! This time with more remorse for the wrongs 
               you committed," yelled the bunny man at Nicola.

               "Okay, alright," she answered.

               Bill turned around to the productionc controls and turned 
               off the sound. Then he said while fighting back sniffles, 
               "Okay, now you see the day it's been. I think it's best you 
               leave now and let me get back to work."

               I knew, to him 'work' meant killing Nicola now that the Rubes 
               had escaped. I stood without responding to him. When he 
               wondered what I was doing I had to say something to allow me 
               to stay with him.

               "You know - Perry was right about me - I have to admit it - 
               I did kill my girlfriend - it's hard to accept that I did

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                                        51.


               it. It was such a confusing moment - I didn't have the benefit 
               of a referee there to tell me I did it - " I kept on looking 
               for a way to save Nicola but nothing seemed like it would 
               work against Bill and that bunny man. I had such little time 
               left only one option was left to me no matter how much I 
               detested the idea.

               "You know, Bill, I'll never be able to move on with my life 
               if I don't face up to this." I saw beside Bill a pen on a 
               piece of paper. "You know that paper you have is just like 
               the ones she once doodled on. May I look at it?" I walked up 
               beside him and picked up the pen from the paper and commented, 
               "Well this is not a doodle exactly but it does remind me of 
               her anyway." I began to run dry on ideas. With Bill sitting 
               under me, I looked down and could see from his expression 
               that he thought I was being lame.

               I looked around for ideas and noticed by the one odd monitor 
               that it's camera really was strapped around the barrel of a 
               rifle. The one holding it was running out of a house with 
               his/her hybrid gun onto a familiar street swinging the 
               perspective up to the trees and down to some rapidly passing 
               flowerbeds.

               I pulled my attention back to Bill and his sad expression: 
               his sadness over Perry's death next to his cold-blooded 
               killing. 'What a hypocrite,' I thought. I picked up the pen 
               and arranged it in my grip so my thumb would hold down the 
               dull end of it to prevent it from slipping.

               Bill seemed to be giving me all the time in the world to 
               act, to reverse the artificial marriage I had with the Red 
               and Whites, and, finally, to find out where my lfie would be 
               if they hadn't taken Zinta from me.

               He looked away from me and I saw theopportunity. 
               Simultaneously I crouched down, wrapped my left arm around 
               his face to muffle him and to hold his head steady, and 
               finally with my right hand gripping the pen, I placed the 
               hard tip against his jugular to get him to take his teethoff 
               my left arm. Once his teeth were retracted, then I plunged 
               the pen through his neck pointging the spurting blood away 
               from me and placing the weight of my body on top of his to 
               crumple him to the floor as he struggled for his final breath.

               When I let go of his head it fell the last inches to the 
               floor witha faint thud. I sat down low enough so the man 
               with my Zinta couldn't see me in the booth. I reached up to 
               turn on the sound for the studio to hear if he reacted to 
               the thud.

               "-re you there, Bill?" said the man. "Bill? Bill?"

               I looked up at the numerous monitors with Zinta's face to 
               look at her reaction. She was trying to look past the lights 
               toward the production booth.

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                                                                        52.


               Then I was distracted again by that odd monitor. Something 
               was happening in front of the camera to people I recognized. 
               Bursts of flaming gunfire came from the rifle strapped to 
               the camera. The perspective was constantly panning across a 
               room with a bullet- soaked body in the middle of this room; 
               his name was Tannis. The context moved form room to room 
               with other rifle carrying people leading the camera's point 
               of view. The camera passed Ray then Wen, both dead. I reached 
               up to the monitor and turned it off.

               'I warned them and they got out of there intime. And that's 
               all there is to it,' I thought.

               "Bill? ... You don't move I'm going to see what happened," I 
               heard the bunny man tell Zinta.

               I still held the bloody pen in my bloody hands. I tried to 
               ready myself for the horrific bunny. In cadets they taught 
               usto use every opportunity to improve our chances for 
               survival. I placed the pen down and wiped my hands on Bill's 
               clothes. Then I checked to see if Bill had a weapon; he 
               didn't. I heard the bunny walk out of the studio into the 
               passage toward the control room. I picked up the pen again 
               and wiped off its slick blood on a clean area of Bill's 
               clothes, then crept towards the booth's door. Suddenly teh 
               bunny appeared like he was a gift for a child's birthday. He 
               discovered me crouched near the floor holding the pen. Bill's 
               twisted form distracted him. He opened his eyes with fear as 
               I lunged with the pen at his face. His forearm took the stab 
               through the fur as I simultaneously kicked him in the groin. 
               Then leaving the pen stuck in his arm, I used both thumgs to 
               blind him.

               'What did I really do?'

               He didn't yell at his pain but kicked me straight back in my 
               groin. I reacted to my injury: stood back from him looking, 
               seeing him through a third of the pain he must have been 
               experiencing. With clarity of intent once again I angled my 
               strike to defend against another dangerous counter-attack. 
               Then I grabbed his head and smashed it into the concrete 
               wall.

               'What did I do?'

               I looked at the dead bunny, over to Bill then through the 
               glass partition to Zinta.

               'It was all for her.'

               I was desperate to see Zinta again so I immediately followed 
               the path the bunny had come from, into the studio and faced 
               her once again. She sat waiting in front of the bright lights; 
               not able to see that it was not one of her tormentors.

               'I lost hope, Zinta. I lost all hope!'

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                                        53.


               I wanted to treasure my first sight of her but I couldn't 
               wait to see her happiness at the sight of me - her rescuer.

               I looked around for the switches to turn off the studio 
               lights: I found them and with the tears of my own happiness 
               falling down my face I turned off the bright lights to finally 
               end our long separation.

               V

               "Bernard!"

               I couldn't believe it but it was Nicola that called me. I 
               looked behind her, I looked on the floor, I looked everywhere. 
               Zinta had disappeared. With the studio lights off Zinta had 
               vanished.

               "Bernard, I'm so happy to see you."

               I put my hands over my head, 'Nicola?'

               "You're crying?" she said. "Shouldn't we get out of here?"

               'She's not here. She's dead isn't she? She died - I knew she 
               died. Didn't I?'

               I stood frozen as Nicola hugged me.

               "Let's get out of here," Nicola insisted.

               'Oh my God. The blood.' I looked at my hands as they touched 
               Nicola's arms. Blood was left around my fingernails and 
               between my fingers. The blood seemed to outline my hands and 
               what they should mean to me. The old rope burn marks were 
               still visible, like compass needles in my red outlined hands. 
               Too central to ignore this time. Too obvious for my mind to 
               discover another hiding place from it.

               "Look, I'll lead the way if you're injured somehow," Nicola 
               told me as she checked me over to see if I was all right.

               'I did injure her! I mean I tied her with the rope! It was 
               from that plant of hers. Those plants she took so much care 
               of. I hung her. From her feet ... Didn't I.'

               "Look," Nicola whispered, "Help us get out of here. How did 
               you get in? How did you save me? You must help us get out of 
               here -Bernard?"

               I finally said something, "You know it was a bad day for her 
               to leave me."

               "Bernard, let's get going!"

               I knew Nicola was right. I decided to listen to her, she 
               knew what was best.

               I said, "What do you want me to do?"

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                                                                        54.


               "How can we get out of here?"

               "Like we came in I guess. I work here. I have a pass and 
               some people know me by sight."

               She whispered in a more careful way, "Cover the blood on 
               your hands and let's get out of here."

               I did as she wanted as she led the way pretending she had on 
               handcuffs. I put one of my hands in a pocket and the other I 
               pretended was holding her cuffed wrists.

               'Oh god, I remember now,' I grimaced as I saw the image in 
               my mind of Zinta falling the short distance into the floor.

               "Lead me out of here," Nicola said. I don't know the way."

               "All right, all right." I responded as we left the studio 
               and walked through the passage toward the main part of the 
               production area.

               "Damn," I said, "Let me get Bill's car keys." I walked over 
               the body of the bunny man and back into the booth to Bill. I 
               went through his clothing until I had his car keys.

               Next we walked into the central office, passed the few of my 
               co-workers left in the building and came to the main exit. I 
               used my security card at the door, and after waiting a few, 
               long seconds, the door opened. We left, got into Bill's car 
               and Nicola drove us calmly and slowly away from the Red and 
               Whites.

               'I'm gone ... It's over ... It doesn't matter if those two 
               cops were at my apartment,

               I killed her. I killed her all by myself. The Red and Whites - 
               They just admired how I could murder. God ...I killed her. 
               When those bastards were looking for me they knew the whole 
               story; They knew! They knew!'

               Nicola turned through the streets seemingly in no direction.

               I strained to ask something calmly, "where are we going?"

               "To the Rubes' house."

               "What do you mean?"

               "To talk to my friends and tell them what happened: they 
               should know."

               I let her drive on, along Queen Street into Nedston. We 
               approached her old street and saw the Rubes' house where she 
               once lived. Police cars and ambulances were forcing their 
               way into the tight traffic with the sirens off. More desperate 
               to leave quickly and quietly than to be careful. The scene 
               reminded me of when my own flat had burned down; and how the 
               sirens blared to show a comparative pride in that case. Nicola

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                                        55.


               let our car drift by the whole scene like any other 
               rubbernecker then turned to me with the signs of distress 
               all over her face and asked, but not expecting an answer, 
               "What the hell just happened?"

               I finally believed what I saw back at the studio, on the 
               monitor. I told her, "I think I saw a live transmission ... 
               back at the studio ...of... your friends being murdered."

               "Oh m ..."She stopped the car up a side street and kept her 
               hands on the steering wheel and cursed.

               I wanted to use my hands again this time to console, to 
               caress, to soothe. But they were too bloody - still. I looked 
               across at her as I decided how I was going to make her feel 
               better when she suddenly sat up and started to drive with 
               some intention in mind. I asked where we were going.

               To the peope I meant to take you to just before we got 
               arrested."

               "Where's that?"

               "Church of God - to Georgian Bay."

               "Are they good people?"

               "I don't know. That's a stupid thing to ask!"

               "Are they good people?! Are they?!"

               "I don't know! They make up those crystal pamphlets. The 
               ones you had with you when you first arrived. You know, you 
               had them in your pockets. We talked about how the drug makes 
               you feel ..."

               She'd triggered a backward series of vivid recollections of 
               fist being in the bus when the pamphlets were handed to me, 
               then to the mail carrier helping out of my building by holding 
               the door open, next I was talking to Julia and staring at 
               Zinta with the blood matting in her hair or dripping the few 
               inches from her limp head onto the bed cover. Her dead arms 
               flopped into the wet material. Her arms cut by something: I 
               couldn't explain.

               I tried to reconstruct what I saw in my mind by comparing 
               the cuts I saw in my thoughts to my real arms. Then I noticed 
               that on my arms and hands the blood had dried into flaky 
               patches which I then tried to scrape off.

               'Damn,' I thought. 'Those cuts she ahd were long. I don't 
               remember her getting them. Wait! I saw her fall to the floor. 
               She smashed her headon the floor. I hooked her up after she 
               fell. I can't believe I did that. She fell and I didn't help 
               her. I hooked her back up!

               'God that fall broke her head. Didn't it? When I pulled her, 
               there was that line of blood. Her head ...Oh my God it must

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                                        56.


               have hurt so much.' i could make out that Nicola was talking 
               to me about her friends and how she felt about it; I couldn't 
               care for that at the moment.

               'Zinta's head and arms must have hurt so bad. The way I beat 
               her. The slits cut down her forearms must have been so 
               painful. Oh God. I can't believe I did those things to her. 
               But I did. Oh the pain. The way she screamed at me. The pain. 
               It must have been ... The way she became so strong all of a 
               sudden. The pain gave her that strength. I can't believe it. 
               I can't believe it!'

               "What is wrong with you?" I heard Nicola say from somewhere.

               'Nicola can't know how it felt. Zinta screamed. She clung to 
               me. She pleaded for me to stop. She was dying and I ignored 
               her.'

               "Bernard, you're bleeding."

               'Zinta was in pain. The blood from her head. It was basd. 
               The pain.'

               "Bernard. Did they injure you too?"

               'Those razor cuts on her arms, that's what they were. Razor 
               cuts. The pain, the pain I put her through.'

               "Bernard, when did you hurt your head? It's bleeding!"

               The car swerved into the passing lane. I felt my body swing.

               'She swung from the hook calling me, bleeding - cut - she 
               just had to say it and I would have been all right again.'

               Nicola cried out to me, "Your arms, their bleeding too, what's 
               happening? How did you get those cuts? There were no cuts on 
               you before."

               'Zinta could have just said it. She could have just told me 
               she would take care of me. It could have been perfect again. 
               no worries again. Just constant sleep.'

               END OF PART II