Complete Works of Nevil Shute

by Nevil Shute

  Morgan said keenly: “What about the Japanese? Have your people killed any of them?”

  The girl said: “A few. When we hear of a very small patrol in the jungle, my brother leads a force out to surround them; then we kill them all and take their arms. In that way we are getting a few weapons for our secret army.”

  She glanced up at him. “How long will it be before the British reach here? We must know that.”

  He rubbed his chin. “I can’t tell you,” he said. “I don’t know. I can only tell you that something will be starting very soon — I think it has already started in the north. When it does begin, it may go very quickly.” He paused, considering. “This is November, and the monsoon breaks in June. I doubt if we shall get as far as this before next June — but we might.”

  “What makes you think that you will advance so quickly?”

  He said: “The numbers of aircraft, and guns, ships, and machines. They are simply pouring out here now, now that the war in Europe is coming to an end. Men, too. Look at me. I was in England only four months ago. Now I’m here. And there are hundreds of thousands like me in Bengal.”

  She said: “Oh. . . . You were in England four months ago?”

  He said: “That’s right.”

  She said: “How is Mr Churchill? Is he all right? He is a very great man.”

  Morgan said: “He’s all right. He’s still Prime Minister.”

  She thought for a minute. “How is Deanna Durbin? Is she well?”

  He blinked, and then said: “I think so. I saw her in a picture not long ago.”

  She said: “I like her pictures very much, ever since One Hundred Men and a Girl.” She laughed. “And Rita Hayworth — is she all right still?”

  He replied: “I saw her in a film called Cover Girl, just before I left London. She was simply lovely. She dances awfully well now.”

  The girl sighed. “Here we see nothing but Japanese propaganda films, all about people looking at cherry trees and going away to war to die for the Emperor. They are very dull.”

  He said: “Never mind. It won’t be long now.”

  She turned to him. “Do you know Major Williams?”

  He shook his head. “I’m afraid I don’t. Who is he?”

  She said: “You are quite sure?”

  “I don’t know him. Who is he — is he here?”

  She dropped her voice a little. “I remember him — he was in Rangoon — he was the buyer for Everett and Fraser, a young man with red hair. They say that he is in Bassein, and that he is trying to get men to join what he calls a V Force — V for Victory, in English. My brother saw him ten days ago. He said the same as you have done, that the English would sweep forward very soon. Utt Nee did not believe him, but now you are here and you have said the same things as he did. That is why they are arguing so long in there. They do not know what to do.”

  “I see,” said Morgan thoughtfully.

  They stood together in silence for a minute. The guards stood patient by them; to these men time was of no importance.

  He said: “How did this Major Williams get into the country?”

  She said: “They say that a small aeroplane brought him, and flew away again, by night. I do not know if that is true.”

  Morgan nodded; it was probably true enough. There was a flight of L5s, he knew, that worked on missions such as that, but it was a long flight for an L5 to come right down from Cox’s to Bassein. If this Williams was in touch, however, it might well be that he could get him out by air.

  He said: “Well, it’s in your hands. If you’re going on playing with the Japanese, you’ll give me up to them, dead or alive. If you decide to turn and help the British, then you’d better hand me over to this Major Williams.”

  She said: “That is what I should like to do, myself.”

  He laughed. “I’m an interested party, so I’d better not give my opinion.”

  She laughed with him; beside them the guards stirred uneasily. “Go back in there,” she said, “I am going in to see my brother.”

  Morgan lay all day in the lockup. Peering between the bamboos he could see the house; there was a continuous sound of voices from the room where he had been examined, and twice he heard voices raised in passionate argument and declamation. Once or twice he thought there was going to be a fight. From time to time Burmans came to the house and went in, or departed from it; they were all men and all incredibly young. Some of them seemed hardly more than fifteen to his inexperienced eye, and all were certainly under twenty-five. It was hot in the little hut, and flies tormented him all day.

  He was fetched out again at dusk, and taken to the house. Utt Nee received him, standing by the table.

  He said: “You have been talking to my sister.”

  Morgan said: “Yes. I answer questions from anybody who asks them. I tell them the truth, so far as I know it.” Instinctively he was terrified of seeming to show interest in a native woman.

  The Burman nodded. “She has told me. You know how — how we are placed. There is this Major Williams of your Army, near Bassein. He wants us to do . . . to do certain things, and he has told us beautiful stories of what the English are about to do. When I met him I did not believe a word of it.”

  Morgan was silent.

  “Now you have come, and you tell us the same beautiful stories, and we do not know what we can believe. So I am sending you to this Major Williams as a proof of our good faith, upon our side. Upon his side, I am saying that he must provide us with five hundred hand grenades and fifty light machine guns, with two hundred rounds of ammunition for each gun. We cannot do what he wants us to do without grenades and guns. If he trusts us, he will give them.”

  He paused. “I send a present for a present. I give you to him as token of our good faith. As token of his good faith he must give us the grenades and guns. I will not work for him on empty words alone from an Englishman. I have had some of that before.”

  Morgan said: “How far are we from Bassein?”

  The Burman said: “About fifty miles. I shall send you to this Englishman with a small patrol under my lieutenant, Thet Shay. They will take paths that keep you away from the Japanese. I cannot go with you myself, though I should like to. I must report this to my colonel, in the direction of Pegu.”

  Morgan said thoughtfully: “You have no signals — no field telephones or radio?”

  “None that we can use. That is another thing this major must supply if we are to fight with the British. We must have small radio sets, and men to work them.”

  Morgan said: “What do you want me to tell this Major Williams? Do you want me to give him your messages, or will your man, Thet Shay, do everything you want? I’ll help in any way I can.”

  Utt Nee sat in silence for a minute. “Thet Shay speaks no English. I do not know how well this Englishman speaks our language. When I met him, we spoke English all the time. I know he speaks Burmese a little.”

  Morgan said: “You speak English perfectly. What were you before the war?”

  “I was a student at Rangoon University. I was studying to be an engineer. I suppose you are surprised at that. You English people think of us as naked savages. But our religion and our culture is much older than yours. In your country you have only taught the common people to read and write in very recent times. In Burma every boy has learned to read and write for over a thousand years, in our religious schools. And yet you have the impudence to think yourselves superior to us. You only ever were superior to us in one thing. Do you know what that was?”

  Morgan said: “No.” He had the good sense to put up with this tirade.

  Utt Nee said: “Gunpowder. You learned the use of firearms before we did, and conquered our country.”

  Morgan said: “Well, you managed to kick us out in 1942.”

  Utt Nee laughed. “And now you will say, these crazy people are talking of co-operating with this Major Williams to help the British to come back again.”

  “I don’t know anything about pol
itics,” said Morgan. “All I know is that it’s a bloody crazy world.”

  Utt Nee said: “I have lain awake night after night, wondering who is mad, the British, or my countrymen who want the Japanese to stay in Burma, or myself.” He laughed cynically. “If we help the British to come back again, do you think that they will hang us all for fighting against them in 1942?”

  Morgan rubbed his chin. “I don’t know,” he said. “It depends how well the sense of humour’s worn.”

  Utt Nee said: “For myself, I am prepared to take the risk. I see no better chance of any sort of independence for my people now. I think, too, that we are strong enough to force a decent compromise between your way and ours.”

  Morgan said: “Looks as if our Government’ll have to pull the finger out and do a bit of thinking.”

  There was a step behind them; Morgan turned, and saw that the girl had come up into the house. Utt Nee said: “I have told him that I have decided to send him with Thet Shay to the Englishman.”

  The girl nodded. “It is the only thing to do.”

  Morgan said: “Let me get this straight. I see what you want; you will do nothing for this major unless he sends you five hundred grenades, fifty Tommy guns or Sten guns, and two hundred rounds for each. That’s what you want to tell him?”

  “Radio sets and operators,” said Utt Nee. “We shall need those too.”

  The pilot nodded. “Radio sets and operators as well. Now, do you want me to tell the major this, or is Thet Shay going to do the talking?”

  Utt Nee turned to the girl. “Do you remember, does this major speak our language?”

  The girl wrinkled her brows. “I don’t know. He worked in Rangoon all the time. If he speaks any, it will not be very much.”

  Utt Nee said: “Thet Shay will do all the negotiation, on our side. I do not think that you can help us, Mr Morgan.” He turned to the girl and said in Burmese: “Can we rely upon Thet Shay and the Englishman understanding each other?”

  She said in the same language: “You had better ask Thet Shay that.”

  Utt Nee got up, went to the opening in the house that served as a front door, and called for Thet Shay. A young man in a longyi and a khaki tunic came; there was a long three cornered conference between the leader and his lieutenant and the girl. Presently they turned and came into the room, to Morgan still sitting at the table.

  “This is Thet Shay,” he said in English. Morgan half rose from the table; the Burman bowed towards him stiffly. “We have decided this. You are to take no part in the negotiation; that will only make confusion. My sister will go with Thet Shay to interpret with the Englishman. If he says he will give us arms, then I will come to see him with Colonel Ne Win, and we will arrange the details.”

  “If he says he won’t give any arms,” asked Morgan, “do you take me back and hand me over to the Japanese?”

  Utt Nee laughed. “I do not think we should do that. We are not on speaking terms with the Japanese at the moment.” He laughed again.

  “Well, I hope this Major Williams sees it in your way,” the pilot said. “I’ll do what I can to help.”

  Utt Nee said: “I have told Thet Shay that you are to start at dawn. It will take you two days to get near Bassein, and perhaps another day to find this Englishman.” He walked over to the steps down to the ground, and then turned before going out. “You can bring your blankets up and sleep here in the house,” he said. “There will be a meal presently.”

  The pilot said: “That’s very good of you. Can I have my revolver back?”

  Utt Nee said: “No,” and went out.

  Morgan turned to the girl, and to Thet Shay. He said to the girl: “Please, would you interpret for me a little? I want to tell Mr Thet Shay that I understand he is in charge of this party, that I will obey his orders, and that I will try to make no trouble.”

  The girl spoke in Burmese; the young man smiled and spoke. The girl replied: “He says that he hopes that you will get back safely to your countrymen.”

  Thet Shay went away, and Morgan went to get his blankets from the lockup. When he came back, the girl was sitting on the steps; he passed her and put down his bundle in a corner of the house. He took a drink from a ewer in the corner; then he searched his pockets for a piece of paper. He had only an air letter, but the back of the sheet was large and fairly clean, and he had a pencil. He went hesitantly to the girl.

  “If you’re doing nothing,” he said, “would you tell me a few Burmese words?”

  She said: “Of course. What do you want to know?”

  He said: “Just a few words, useful things, you know. One feels such a fool if one can’t say anything at all.” He hesitated, pencil in hand. “To start with, would you mind telling me your name?”

  She said: “I am called Nay Htohn. You should call me Ma Nay Htohn — that is, Miss Nay Htohn.”

  He wrote it down at the top of his paper; she helped him with the spelling. He said: “Now, what’s the word for water?”

  “Ye,” she said. He wrote it down.

  “Food?”

  “There is no word quite like that,” she said. “We speak of things. The word that everybody understands is htamin, which is boiled rice. If you ask for htamin you will get something to eat, unless you were with starving people.”

  He wrote it down, and went on to man, and woman, and latrine, and was greatly surprised when she laughed at that, just like an English girl. When he had written down about twenty words he stopped. “I’ll learn these tonight,” he said. “If you are coming with us to Bassein, will you tell me some more tomorrow?”

  She said: “I will think of some that will be useful to you, if you stay here long.” And then she said: “Is this the first time you have been in Burma?”

  “It’s the first time I have been away from England,” he replied, “except that I was in North Africa last year.”

  “How do you like it?”

  He laughed. “How would you like it, if you were a prisoner and not quite sure how you were going to be treated?” He sat down on the steps, with the whole width of the flight between them. “I must say, it’s lovely country. I’d like to come back here in peacetime, and see it properly.”

  She said: “I wish you would. The only English people who come here are the ones who want to make money out of us — Government officials who come here for their job, or traders who come to buy things from our people as cheap as they can, and sell them for a high price in the outside world. Those are the only sort of English that we ever see. We never meet the ordinary English people, people like ourselves.”

  “I suppose you get missionaries out here,” he said.

  “Oh, we get a lot of those. Some of them are very kind and good, especially when they start hospitals and schools, and do not try to teach us their religion.”

  He said hesitantly: “You aren’t Christian, then?”

  She smiled tolerantly. “No. In Burma we are Buddhists. Surely you knew that?”

  “I know that most of the people are Buddhists,” he replied. “I thought that educated people like you and your brother might be Christians.”

  She nodded. “Some of my friends are Christian, but not very many. I studied your religion very carefully when I was at school, but I didn’t like it nearly so well as ours. I don’t think it is a very good one.”

  He said curiously: “What’s wrong with it?”

  She smiled. “I’m not going to start a religious controversy with you, Mr Morgan. When I was at school they told us that some Englishman said once that it does not matter much what one believes so long as one believes in something. I think that’s very true. For ordinary people who are not concerned with dogma there’s not much difference between Buddhism and Christianity in the way that we are taught to live, only our way is much stricter than yours.”

  He was a little intrigued. “In what way?” he asked.

  She said: “Well, for one thing, you are allowed to drink wine and kill animals. I don’t like that much. We h
ave five elementary commandments; if you break them you will be reborn into a lower scale of life. You must not kill any living creature at all, you must not lie, you must not steal, you must not commit adultery, you must not touch any intoxicating drink. Those are the minimum commandments, the ones that everybody must observe if he wants to avoid being reborn as an animal. If you want to go forward you must do much more than that.”

  “You really think that you can become an animal in your next life?” the pilot asked. “You mean, like a pig?”

  “You make your own destiny,” she said. “Everyone does that. If you choose to live like a tiger or a pig, if that’s the sort of life you like, you will attain your desire in your next incarnation. If you strive earnestly for wider mental powers and a better life, then next time you will be reborn higher up on the Ladder of Existence. That is what we believe.”

  “I see.” He thought for a moment, and then asked: “What happens when you get to the top of the ladder? What happens when you are as good as you can be?”

  She said: “You can only reach that point after countless thousands of lives. But ultimately, if you receive the Final Enlightenment, so that you are wholly good and completely wise, so that everything you say or do is the perfection of truth and wisdom, you are then the Buddha.”

  “That’s the statue in the pagodas, isn’t it?” he asked.

  “The statue that you see in the pagodas is the last Buddha,” she replied. “Prince Shin Guatama. Twenty-eight souls have attained this perfection in the history of the Universe, and only four in this world; you see, it is not very easy. Prince Shin Guatama was the last, the twenty-eighth, and it is his example that we try to follow in our daily life.”

  “Rather like our Christ,” he said thoughtfully.

  “Exactly like your Christ,” she said. “But you believe that your Christ was a God, the son of a God who lives somewhere in the outer realms of space and who created you for this one life. I don’t quite understand that part of your religion. We have the same idea of a supremely perfect Being, but we believe that any one of us can reach that same perfection if we try hard enough to live a holy life, in age after age. We have the statue of Prince Shin Guatama in our prayer houses as an example, to remind us of what any one of us can attain to. Frankly, Mr Morgan, I like our idea better than yours, though for practical purposes there’s not much in it.”