Michael Moorcock - Breakfast in the Ruins

He whistled as he walked along the short, dark passage to the special room. It was bleeding hot in here, worse than a bloody native hut. It stank of fucking Kikuyu.

He gave the guard at the door of the special room his officer's salute, with the swagger stick touching the peak of his well-set cap.

He went into the special room and turned on the light.

Lailu sat on the bench, his bony knees sticking up at a peculiar angle, his eyes wide and white. There was a lot of sweat in his thin moustache.

"Hello, Mr. Lailu," said Karl with his cold grin, "how are you feeling this fine summer morning? A bit warm? Sorry we can't open a window for you, but you can see for yourself, there isn't one. That's probably against fire regulations. You could complain about that. Do you want to complain to me, Mr. Lailu?"

Lailu shook his black head.

"Because you've got your rights, you know. Lots and lots of rights. You've heard the lectures? Yes, of course you have, more than once, because you've been here more than once, haven't you, Mr. Lailu?"

Lailu made no response at all to this. Karl went up to him and stood very close, looking down on him. Lailu didn't look back. Karl grabbed the man's ear and twisted it so that Lailu's lips came together tightly. "Because I remember my trade-mark, you see, Mr. Lailu. That little scar, that's not a tribal scar, is it, Mr. Lailu? That little scar isn't a Mau Mau scar, is it? That is a Sergeant Gower scar, eh?"

"Yes, boss," said Lailu. "Yes, boss."

"Good."

Karl stepped back and leaned against the door of the special room. "We're going to keep everything informal, Mr. Lailu. You know your rights, don't you? "

"Yes, boss."

"Good."

Karl grinned down on Lailu again. "You were at the Kuanda farm last week, weren't you?"

"No, boss."

"Yes you were!" Karl began to breathe quickly, the swagger stick held firmly in his two hands. "Weren't you?"

"No, boss. Lailu not Mau Mau, boss. Lailu good boy, boss."

"Yes, a good little liar." The swagger stick left Karl's right hand almost without him thinking about it. It struck Lailu on the top of his head. Lailu whimpered. "Now I won't do that again, Lailu, because that's not the way I work, is it?"

"Don't know, boss."

"Is it?"

"No, boss."

"Good." Karl took out his packet of Players and selected one. He put the cigarette between his lips and he put the packet carefully back into his pocket. He took out his matches and he lit the cigarette so that it was burning just right. He put the matches back in his pocket and neatly he buttoned the pocket. He drew a deep puff on the cigarette. "Smoke, Lailu?"

Lailu trembled all over. "No, boss. Please."

"Shit, Lailu? You look as if you feel like one. Use the pot over there. Get them manky pants down, Lailu."

"Please, boss."

Karl moved quickly. It was always best to move quickly. He grabbed the top of the Kikuyu's shorts and ripped them down to his knees, exposing the shriveled, scarred genitals.

"Oh, I have been here before, haven't I, Lailu?"

— That's better, says Karl.

— You're insatiable, says his friend admiringly. I've got to admit it, for all your faults.

— What's the time? Karl asks.—My watch has stopped.

— It must be coming up for morning, says his friend.

You and your sister have been captured by your enemies. They are brutal enemies.

They want information from you concerning your friends. They say they will make you responsible for your sister's safety. If you tell them all they wish to know she will go free. If you do not they will humiliate, terrorize and torture her in every way they know.

You are aware that should they catch your friends they will do the same thing to at least some of them, perhaps all of them.

Whom will you betray?

— You're not slow, are you? says Karl's friend.—And to think I was worried. Now I think I'll get some sleep.

— Not yet, says Karl.

— Yes, now. I'm not feeling too well, as it happens.