The Horatio Stubbs Trilogy

by Brian Aldiss

  ‘Correct, he thinks you are drunk. For the record, I have the same opinion. I was eating here in a private room with a friend, where the food is marginally better than that served to the troops, when I heard you swearing and fighting. Please leave immediately, as the manager implores. Take Tung Su Chi with you.’

  One 25-watt bulb dangled in the centre of the jakes. Its sickly illumination made everyone look ill. I began splashing water over my face and neck. Shit, it was hot.

  ‘I’ll go in a minute. Just leave me alone.’

  ‘You are sick?’

  ‘Sick of everything. Just leave me alone. I’ll go in a minute.’

  Self-pity flooded me. Nobody wanted me. Pushing Margey away, I fumbled in my hip pocket and produced a stack of Jap guilders which I thrust out towards the manager. ‘Here, help yourself. Bloody forged Jap currency, if that’s what you live on. Take it.’

  The manager understood this gesture and looked highly offended, which pleased me. He began to talk rapidly with Tiger Balm. Margey tried to butt in and was swept aside. Turning to me, Tiger Balm said, ‘Ignoring your comments on the economy, for which the British occupation is responsible, I ask the manager how much he is owed. Now he declares with the pride of his race that if you will leave in peace now, immediately, he makes no charge for you or the lady. You understand? Frankly, between us, he is a little afraid.’

  My anger rose again. ‘I told you, I’ll go in a minute. I’ll go whether he wants my money or not. My fucking nose is still bleeding.’

  Margey waved her handbag at Tiger Balm and the manager. ‘Go ’way and leave him, like he ask. Can’t you hear? I look after my man. You take care, both you! He strong man, nearly kill that corporal – his friends take him away being carried.’

  The ability to focus my eyes returned. I saw that Margey was crying. Her words had no effect on the men. By now, renewed anger was making me feel better; I was just looking for a bit more trouble.

  Trouble arrived. The jakes door opened and in stomped Jackie Tertis, wearing monsoon cape and big boots and looking extremely ugly. He glared at everyone in turn before addressing me.

  ‘Stubbs? You okay, cocker? A bloke outside told me you were having a spot of bother. Want any help? I’ll soon pitch into these admis with you. Say the word.’

  ‘I don’t need any help. I was sorting out bloody Kyle, that’s all.’

  He stood unmoved in all his foxy hue.

  ‘Kyle, good. Want a lift home? My bike’s outside. What are these natives sticking about for – money? Is this your Chinese crumpet you were on about?’ He bent his gaze at Margey. ‘Not bad as Chinks go, are you, darling? Flat in the chest, of course.’ His hawk gaze swooped to the manager, who had stepped forward. ‘What’s your trouble, chum? You want to say something?’

  The Malay moved back again, bowing politely. Perhaps he had encountered Tertis before.

  Margey was made of different stuff. I saw her go almost rigid with anger.

  ‘You talking large bully, what you mean I got frat chest?’ She spoke in a kind of scream. ‘Could your mother with disease feed you only on pus, not milk? Why, you stinking hairy foreign pig-scum, I know your spotty pizzle fell off in the cradle with VD!’

  A wooden shovel stood in one dim corner of the bog. Margey seized it and brought the edge of its blade down hard on Tertis’s foot. Despite the protection of his boots, he gave a yell of pain.

  ‘You slant-eyed yellow whore, I’ll murder you!’

  ‘Come on, I scratch your damn rotten eyes out!’

  Tiger Balm said, waveringly, ‘Let us not exchange ethnic insults in a public urinal. I shall leave.’

  It looked as if Tertis would murder us all, beginning with Margey. For a moment he stood quivering; then he bent to pick up the shovel which Margey had dropped. If he started wielding that implement in the confined space, there would be murder done.

  I grabbed Tertis’s arm and twisted it smartly behind his back. He yelled in pain. ‘Come on, matey, let’s all leave together. I didn’t enjoy that remark about flat chests either.’ As he straightened and tried to turn, I gave him another quick wrench to let him know what was what.

  ‘You’ll have my arm off, Stubbs, you tricky bastard …’

  Margey was about to fling herself at him but Tiger Balm caught her and gave her a brisk rattle of Cantonese. She bit her lips and fell silent, looking helplessly at me. But I was occupied with Tertis.

  When he was pale enough, I marched him out, up the steps and through the restaurant, keeping up the pressure all the way.

  A fresh surge of sadism made me feel good. I murmured in Jackie’s ear. ‘You dare give me that flat-chested bullshit, you fucking torturer! I know you need a big ugly pair of tits like bolsters to wallow in, or else you can’t get it up – that’s what makes you such a vicious little bastard, isn’t it?’

  ‘I never did you any harm. Whores is all you’re good for. My lot’ll settle with you, Stubbs, you wait.’

  It was still raining. When we were outside, I gave him a shove and stood back. ‘On your way, Jackie, you bloody fascist. If you ever insult a pusher of mine again, I’ll have your guts for garters, malum? Now piss off.’ In my stomach, I felt a numb fear of him.

  He gave me a sick and deadly look. Water dripped on his unquenched eyes. I had sudden visions of us having a shoot-up in the roadway, as if Medan was Dodge City. His lips came apart, revealing the edges of his teeth. One of us would finish lying riddled in the gutter. Lightning dazzled, turning the flooded street into a ruinous ante-chamber of some lost underground city. Tertis turned away as darkness swooped back, became suddenly shapeless under his monsoon cape. A minute later, he drove off, revving his bike, his wheels furrowing the great puddle through which he made his way.

  I breathed a deep breath.

  The rain ran down my hair and across my face. I retired into the porch of the restaurant. The more reliable of my watches said that it was ten minutes to eleven; the other had stopped. I wound it without conviction.

  My nose burned. I leaned against an upright and closed my eyes for a moment.

  Tiger Balm was standing by me, shaking me carefully. He carried an open umbrella.

  ‘I have procured a pedicab. Share it with me. You need help.’

  ‘I’m okay. Sorry for all that rough-housing in there.’

  ‘It was not pleasant.’ He looked hard at me through his spectacles, which were spotted with rain. There was something I had done or said which pleased him. ‘Let’s go, the man is waiting. The storm’s nearly over.’

  As I went forward with him, under the umbrella, I asked where Margey was.

  ‘Su Chi was upset. She returned home. She requested me to say farewell and good journey.’

  A little old Malay was sitting under a waterproof on his flimsy saddle. The hood of his vehicle was up, sounding like a drum under the downpour. Tiger Balm and I squeezed into the seat together.

  ‘God, I need a drink. You sent Margey away, didn’t you?’

  ‘She returned home, as I said. She cried and was ashamed.’

  ‘I suppose she’s really only a whore, isn’t she?’

  The Malay buttoned us under a tarpaulin and pulled the hood further over, so that we could hardly see the way, but the rain was abating. The air smelt of tarpaulins.

  ‘Your criteria of judgement are wrong, excuse me. You should not think someone is only a tailor, or only a wife, or only an Englishman. Or only a whore. Those are incorrect perceptions.’

  ‘There was nothing I could do for Margey.’

  He called sharply to the Malay, then said to me, ‘You raised her hopes, then dropped them. You feel bad, so you wish to think of her as only a whore. She wished to escape from the Sumatra disaster, but you are part of the disaster, as part of the occupying force. All military occupations bring depraved times, when injuries of all kinds cannot be avoided.’

  ‘Christ, you make it sound like hell on earth.’

  To that he said nothing. I did not wish to pursue
the subject. The rain ceased as if a sluice had been turned off. Its retreat left a strange silence in the world. We bumped over cobbles. Suddenly, I felt cheerful again, recalling how I had laid into Kyle; Jhamboo would be pleased when he heard. I laughed and produced cigarettes from my tin. We lit them awkwardly in the confined space.

  ‘What’ll happen to you – the Chinese – when the British pull out?’

  ‘Didn’t you ask that question to me before? There may be some difficulties.’

  ‘During our first meeting, you were talking about bloodbaths.’

  ‘Soekarno is rather a severe man, I hear. We shall stay. It may be difficult at first. Unlike the Dutch, we have nowhere else to go. So we stay.’

  Silence fell between us. The Malay called out, slowed down, stopped his vehicle by digging both heels in the ground. He came round and removed the tarpaulin from our knees. We had stopped outside Katie Chae’s house. There was a light in her window overhead. Tiger Balm sat where he was. He made a gesture of invitation, cigarette in hand.

  ‘Enter, please. My sister will be pleased to greet you. I must go elsewhere, so it is good-bye between us.’

  Embarrassment overcame me as I climbed out. I peered at him in the dim light. ‘You trust me to behave myself, do you?’

  ‘I know the capacities of my sister.’

  ‘Do you disapprove of me? I suppose you think I’m a complete shit.’

  He shook his head. ‘You are a soldier, Sgt Stubbs, so you are not a complete person. You are partly a uniform. We wish to be rid of you. But there are worse soldiers than British soldiers.’

  He signalled to the Malay. The old boy bent his shoulders and started to pedal.

  An ambiguous bugger, Tiger Balm.

  When they were a long way down the road, I knocked at Katie’s door and went in.

  It was eleven-ten, give or take fourteen minutes. I had just three-quarters of an hour in which to report back to Captain Boyer. But, for the moment, I was at peace; in the presence of Katie Chae, it was hard not to feel at peace with oneself. She looked gorgeous, with her slender legs hooked across an arm of the sofa and a deep blue cheongsam riding up above her knees. She wore white tears of ear-pendants which went well against her long, elegant face.

  She was smoking a cheap Singapore cigarette. The thirty tins of Players I had given her were not to be opened; they were for trading.

  I was drinking an atrocious little drink she poured me. I sprawled on the floor with my arms on the sofa and my chin practically in her sexy lap. She smelt of powder and scent, and my sore nose was forgotten. We were having a conversation.

  ‘Some day maybe I get marry, but not in this dump. I see girls after marry, they sew and cook and read. Those things not for Katie Chae. I hate them. I hate books. I like to swim.’ She demonstrated a dainty breast-stroke in the air.

  I laughed. ‘You are allowed to swim after you’re married, even in England. Just suppose I offered to marry you – would you come back to England with me?’

  Smiling, she stroked my cheek. ‘You funny guy, Horry, you not unnerstand girls. When our worlds meet, okay, fine, great stuff, but they different worlds. I not care for that sort of thing.’

  A small silence fell while I thought about that.

  ‘Why are you so contemptuous of reading? Because you’ve lived so much? Would you read a letter if I sent one from England?’

  ‘Oh, yes, letters I read if they say nice things about me. Books I not like – all that stuff is stric’ly for my brother, you unnerstand. Not real things.’

  ‘What about Shakespeare, the world’s greatest writer?’

  ‘Horry, why you not finish your drink and take off your dirty clothes?’

  ‘Great! But have you heard of Shakespeare, Katie? You must have heard of him.’

  Katie Chae shook her head and most of her body, in a way which indicated that there was absolutely no way in which she and Shakespeare could have heard of one another. ‘I busy girl, Horry, toots. What this man he write?’

  ‘Plays, mainly. The most famous play is called Hamlet. Hamlet’s the name of the principal character. His father was the king of Norway but he’s dead. No, not Norway, Denmark. It’s a long time since I saw the play. Hamlet is meant to take over the throne, but instead his uncle grabs it, and marries Hamlet’s mother. Hamlet is upset and doesn’t know what to do. He hangs about and kills his girl friend’s father, so she goes mad. And he meets his father’s ghost.’

  ‘Oooh, I scared of ghosts,’ exclaimed Katie Chae, nestling closer and running a hand through the damp hair at the base of my skull in an enticing fashion. ‘What happens next?’

  I drained my glass. Mewk, I thought, helping myself to another.

  ‘There’s a bit of a dust-up in a cemetery where they’re digging up corpses. Eventually, there’s a full-scale sword fight and they all get killed.’

  ‘Everyone?’ she asked in astonishment.

  ‘Everyone. Except one or two soldiers.’

  ‘It sounds exciting! I like.’ Her expressive eyes shone.

  ‘Yes, it is pretty exciting, apart from some of the dialogue.’

  I started to unbutton my shirt.

  ‘Katie, you marvellous creature, tear off those beautiful clothes and stand naked before me, so that I can remember you when I’m back in England.’

  She kicked her shoes off and stood on the sofa, smiling at me with slit eyes. ‘What you do when you remember me? You do something naughty to yourself?’ She made sly wanking gestures with a dainty hand.

  ‘It could even get to that.’

  ‘Okay, big boy, then I do. For world peace.’ She laughed.

  As she began to unhook the cheongsam, I pulled my boots off and flung them across the room. Off came her dress, sliding down her body. She was not wearing any knickers. I clasped her round the bottom and kissed her delicious thighs.

  Katie put a hand over her smart little crutch. ‘You mus’ give me present, Horry – you know I poor girl. Very punk life jus’ now.’

  ‘Yes, yes.’ I didn’t care to enquire how much she wanted; a pulsating penis asks no questions. I fished all the cash I had out of my hip pocket: a damp and crumpled collection of forged Jap rubbish, Dutch guilders, a five-rupee note, and some new British pounds straight from Company Office. An international collection for an international girl.

  She pouted and continued to cup her crutch. A wisp of black pubic hair curled round the base of her thumb. With barely the shadow of hesitation, I added the better of my two watches to the little pile.

  ‘Okay?’

  ‘That is all you got?’ She counted the money quickly, so that I got a look at the goods in question. Why had I expected her to be grateful?

  ‘It’s all I’ve got. Every penny. Come on, Katie, love.’

  ‘You get more pay in Singapore. Give me other watch also, darling.’ She covered up again and waited.

  I pulled the second watch from my wrist. Fucking thing never kept time any way. Katie Chae took it, looked down at her pelvis, and slowly removed her hand from her twot, as if allowing a little bird to escape. She pressed the hand to my mouth.

  I bit her fingers.

  ‘Also your cigarettes,’ she said. ‘All what you got please you give. For keepsake.’

  She swept the little collection together and whipped them out of sight in a drawer before turning back to me. This time she made no attempt to conceal her body but stood brazenly, legs apart, giving me a real come-on glance.

  Despite the haggle, I had a towering erection. I nearly snapped it as I tore my trousers off. It thumped against my belly like a drumstick.

  Katie’s face was alight at the sight. She jumped back on to the sofa, unbuttoning her brassiere. This was the life she really enjoyed. The brassiere went flying behind a chair and her scrumptious little tits flowed free.

  I moved in, well placed to plunge a finger between her thighs and up into her luxurious hole, grabbing a spiral of pubic hairs with my thumb, twitching them crisply between her fles
h and mine.

  She bent down to me and held my head. I straightened, making her left breast vibrate with my tongue as I did so. Gorgeous dark aureoles set off her nipples – always the sign of a passionate woman. Pressing my tool against her belly, I cupped my hands under her bottom and, lifting her in that manner, carried her over to the table.

  ‘You terrible man, so strong!’

  ‘You heavenly bitch, Katie!’

  As she curved backwards over the table, she opened her legs. With my hand, I felt her pretty cunt-lips part. I slid the tip of my prick in, grunting. It tunnelled its way forward into territories hitherto unknown to man or beast. She wriggled to help it along, and with every wriggle it seemed to navigate another succulent pair of lips. Salmon leaping upstream to spawn know no finer pleasures. Sighs of delight.

  Just a yard more to go … Finally it had plumbed as far as it would go – yet she knocked her little mons against me, sucking at the ultimate millimetre of rude joy.

  My body started working of its own accord, arse plunging forward and back, working at first only from the bum but gradually getting entirely involved, with thighs, legs, whole trunk becoming part of the rhythm. We were a unity: her arms about my shoulders like my arms, my arms about her lean buttocks, one finger licking into her moist bottom, like her arms, her finger. Each knew entirely what each wanted; each gave. There was no finesse about holding back. Neck or nothing it was.

  Her gorgeous juices spread from my root through our tangled hairs, down my thighs, round to the rear, up my belly. Mad excitement, snorts of pleasure. Her teeth biting into my shoulder, her ear in my mouth. That tremendous sensation that this was marvellous Katie Chae, and no one else. We fell back on the table, my arms still protectively under the rocking curve of her spine. In that position, her legs came up, wrapping about my back, opening her twot wider, so that I could thrust still deeper, aware of the perfume she was releasing. That perfume, that motion, that unity – they made the most eloquent of all languages, the most convincing of all communications.

  My sweat ran with hers. Her eyes were against mine, deep dark, blazing, her breath was one with mine. We came in a clatter of hip bones and sobs, and her being was one with mine.