Irving Wallace - The Prize

Craig did not recoil, but sat immovable in his place. ‘I apologize then,’ he said. ‘I had no wish to offend you or-’

Walther’s flat palm slapped the table like a plank of wood, and the bottle jumped. ‘What does any pampered young ignoramus like you know of life over there and what we go through? What do you know of discipline and sacrifice and suffering-you, all of you, with your belly softness and head softness-dancing puppets for the propertied class, educated by schools that will only cater to the wealthy, and learning all you know from newspapers and periodicals controlled by the rich? What do you know-and who are you to tell me what is right and what is wrong-to tell me to sacrifice more and more for a brother who has grown fat and fat-headed, usurping my place with my own flesh and blood?’

Krantz had rushed forward. ‘Please, Walther-please, please-Mr. Craig did not mean-’

Craig pushed back the chair and came to his feet. ‘No, Krantz, he is quite right. I should not try to live other people’s lives and make their decisions. It is a disagreeable trait of authors. But I will make up for it now.’ He stared down at the angry Walther. ‘Yes, I will make up for it. There is no reason for you to go back-but there is no reason for Max to submit and go behind the Curtain either. I don’t intend to let Eckart pull off his filthy blackmail. There’ll be no exchange tonight. You’ll have your freedom, Walther, and Max will keep his. We’re all leaving this boat right now.’

Krantz darted to the table. ‘It is impossible, Mr. Craig-why-’

‘Shut up Krantz!’ It was Walther. He addressed Craig with cool contempt. ‘I was mistaken. You are not merely a fool but a suicidal fool.’

Craig contained himself. ‘It’s possible if one wants freedom enough as some Hungarians and some East Germans did,’ he said evenly.

‘There are no odds to favour us,’ said Walther. ‘There are two guards out there, fully armed, young hoodlums who would enjoy the target practice. There are four of us-two of us old, and one a woman-with no arms but your nonsense.’

‘I’ll take the major risk,’ persisted Craig. ‘I’ll lead the way out. It’s dark. I’ll go towards the guards, block them, divert them, no matter what the consequences. There’ll be time enough for the three of you to make the wharf-or, better, just leap overboard and begin to shout. The noise you make-the gunfire at me-it’ll bring, people down in swarms.’

‘I am not going overboard,’ said Walther with deadly reserve. ‘I do not swim.’

‘You’ll find cork jackets in the cupboard.’

‘And float there-sitting duck for those hoodlums? No. Why risk my life, after all I have been through, when my freedom without danger is only hours off?’

‘But then we can save Max-not only you but Max.’

‘You are telling me how to think about Max?’ Walther bawled, rearing to his feet, lurching against the table. The jolt of his agitated frame against the table overturned the glass and bottle, and sent both rolling to the cabin floor. As the vodka gurgled out of the bottle, Walther shouted, ‘Max is my business, not yours-not any of yours! I have had enough from you and all of your provocateurs! Now get out of here!’

Craig remained stolidly in his place. ‘I’m not getting out.’

Walther strode noisily around the table. ‘Then I will have you thrown out, you capitalist scum-trying to tell me what to do-trying to tell me-a man honoured, revered, looked up to, worshipped-in the most powerful nation on earth-’

Suddenly, Walther cut his heated outburst short. His eyes went from Craig, to Krantz, and back to Craig, to the look of blank astonishment on Krantz’s features, to the look of complete scorn on Craig’s face. Except for their heavy breathing, the ticking of a clock, the creak of hinges off somewhere, the stateroom was a tomb of charged silence.

Craig spoke first. ‘You don’t want to escape, do you, Walther? I never expected you would. But-why not? Because you don’t give a damn about your brother or daughter? Or because you don’t give a damn about freedom? You don’t want freedom-do you, Walther?’

Rage covered Walther’s face like a distorted hood. He reeled towards Craig, lifting a fist as if to hit him. But he did not strike. Instead, he bellowed, ‘Freedom? Freedom? What do you sheep know of freedom-of the true meaning of freedom? You with your holy false words-mouthings dictated by your capitalist hyenas-the provocateurs , the warmongers, and you no better, and Max no better-waiting with your ICBMs to destroy us, to protect your filthy green dollars.’

They were only a few feet apart, but Craig did not flinch. Exultation swept upward through his veins. Reckless confidence, in knowledge of the truth, was his banner. ‘You speak like a Communist, Walther, exactly like a Communist. You’re not even being cautious. You’re one of them-not the decent people there-but the big ones, the cocky ones, so sure of your science and weapons-’

‘You ignorant lout!’ cried Walther. ‘What do you know of our science and our weapons? We are the fighters for peace-working day and night to save the world, keep it alive for you fools, to make one world-’

‘Your world, Walther, not mine,’ interrupted Craig. ‘You want your world on your terms, and it has nothing to do with average people anywhere. You want your world. You’ve been brainwashed-indoctrinated-forgotten the old past-want the new future where you and your adopted comrades will be the royalty.’

‘The workers will be the royalty!’ Walther shouted.

Craig studied the weaving old man, his pose lost, his stature taller, stronger, fanatical, and then Craig said, ‘You never intended to leave that world, Walther. I can see that now. You played along for the sake of the Party-it’s the Party, isn’t it, Walther? It’s the parroting, brainless, robot Party.’

‘Another disrespect against the Party and you’ll pay for it!’ Walther swayed, unbalanced by vodka and outrage. ‘The Party is the best of us-all eight million of the CPSU-and we are the cream, the best, the most decent brains on earth, and your fate is in our hands-remember that, remember-’

‘And so you played along for them, never intending to participate honourably even in blackmail? The bosses said go to Stockholm, suck in Max, get him back to East Berlin for us-so we can use him for evil-and then you come back to us, too. That was the game, wasn’t it?’

Walther’s mouth was strange, twisting, twisting, saliva-brimmed, with no word being uttered, until at last the hoarse words broke through. ‘Do you think I would come to you in a hundred years? I wanted to help them get Max on the right side, yes. And the girl-Emily-yes, if she would come. I owed it to her-after what I know of Ravensbruck, after what I guess of her life in America-to raise her under my roof, in a decent house, with my family. But to leave my family for the likes of Max or the lot of you? To leave a good Russian wife-my two young children? They are my life, they and my work and our cause.’

He caught his breath, panting out of fever and fury.

‘Dr. Krantz!’ The voice, clear and assured, came from the rear of the stateroom, and it was Emily’s voice.

All of them turned as one, startled, having forgotten her. She stood before the open door of the bedroom cabin, had apparently been standing there for some minutes. Now, shifting her coat from one arm to the other, head high, lips compressed, only her step uneven, she crossed to the group.

‘Dr. Krantz,’ she repeated, ‘should you speak to Dr. Eckart once more, tell him this. Tell him there can be no trade-because there is no one for whom Uncle Max can be traded.’

She considered Craig gravely, her countenance dry-eyed and composed. ‘Thank you, Andrew,’ she said.