King Rat

The other half coconut he scraped into a separate container. He put this coconut meat into a piece of mosquito curtain and carefully squeezed the thick-sweet sap into a cup. Today it was Mac’s turn to add the sap to his breakfast rice pap.

Peter Marlowe thought again what a marvelous food the residue of coconut was. Rich in protein and perfectly tasteless. Yet a sliver of garlic in it, and it was all garlic. A quarter of a sardine, and the whole became sardine, and the body of it would flavor many bowls of rice.

Suddenly he was famished for the coconut. He was so hungry that he did not hear the guards approaching. He did not feel their presence until they were already standing ominously in the doorway of the hut and all the men were on their feet.

Yoshima, the Japanese officer, shattered the silence. “There is a radio in this hut.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

Yoshima waited five minutes for someone to speak. He lit a cigarette and the sound of the match was a thunderclap.

Dave Daven’s first reaction was, Oh my God, who’s the bastard who gave us away or made the slip? Peter Marlowe? Cox? Spence? The colonels? His second reaction was terror—terror incongruously mixed with relief—that the day had come.

Peter Marlowe’s fear was just as choking. Who leaked? Cox? The colonels? Why, even Mac and Larkin don’t know that I know! Christ! Utram Road!

Cox was petrified. He leaned against the bunk, looking from slant eyes to slant eyes, and only the strength of the posts kept him from falling.

Lieutenant Colonel Sellars was in nominal charge of the hut, and his pants were slimed with fear as he entered the hut with his adjutant, Captain Forest.

He saluted, his dewlapped face flushed and sweating.

“Good morning, Captain Yoshima…”

“It is not a good morning. There is a radio here. A radio is against orders of the Imperial Nipponese Army.” Yoshima was small, slight and very neat. A samurai sword hung from his thick belt. His knee boots shone like mirrors.

“I don’t know anything about it. No. Nothing,” Sellars blustered. “You!” A palsied finger pointed at Daven. “Do you know anything about it?”

“No, sir.”

Sellars turned around and faced the hut. “Where’s the wireless?”

Silence.

“Where is the wireless?” He was almost hysterical. “Where is the wireless? I order you to hand it over instantly. You know we’re all responsible for the orders of the Imperial Army.”

Silence.

“I’ll have the lot of you court-martialed,” he screamed, his jowls shaking. “You’ll all get what you deserve. You! What’s your name?”

“Flight Lieutenant Marlowe, sir.”

“Where’s the wireless?”

“I don’t know, sir.”

Then Sellars saw Grey. “Grey! You’re supposed to be Provost Marshal. If there’s a wireless here it’s your responsibility and no one else’s. You should have reported it to the authorities. I’ll have you court-martialed and it’ll show on your record…”

“I know nothing about a wireless, sir.”

“Then by God you should,” Sellars screamed at him, his face contorted and purple. He stormed up the hut to where the five American officers bunked. “Brough! What do you know about this?”

“Nothing. And it’s Captain Brough, Colonel!”

“I don’t believe you. It’s just the sort of trouble you bloody Americans’d cause. You’re nothing but an ill-disciplined rabble…”

“I’m not taking that goddam crap from you!”

“Don’t you talk to me like that. Say ‘Sir’ and stand to attention.”

“I’m the senior American officer and I’m not taking insults from you or anyone else. There’s no radio in the American contingent that I know of. There’s no radio in this hut that I know of. And if there was, I sure as hell wouldn’t tell you. Colonel!”

Sellars turned and panted to the center of the hut. “Then we’ll search the hut. Everyone stand by their beds! Attention! God help the man who has it. I’ll personally see he’s punished to the limit of the law, you mutinous swine …”

“Shut up, Sellars.”

Everyone stiffened as Colonel Smedly-Taylor entered the hut.

“There’s a wireless here and I was trying—”

“Shut up.”

Smedly-Taylor’s well-used face was taut as he walked over to Yoshima, who had been watching Sellars with astonishment and contempt. “What’s the trouble, Captain?” he asked, knowing what it was.

“There’s a radio in the hut.” Then Yoshima added with a sneer, “According to the Geneva Convention governing prisoners of war…”

“I know the code of ethics quite well,” Smedly-Taylor said, keeping his eyes off the eight-by-eight beam. “If you believe there is a wireless here, please make a search for it. Or if you know where it is, please take it and be done with the affair. I’ve a lot to do today.”

“Your job is to enforce the law…”

“My job is to enforce civilized law. If you want to cite law, then obey it yourselves. Give us the food and medical supplies to which we are entitled!”

“One day you will go too far, Colonel.”

“One day I’ll be dead. Perhaps I’ll die of apoplexy trying to enforce ridiculous rules imposed by incompetent administrators.”