But when I got off the bunk and moved him with my bare noga, there was a feel of like stiff coldness, so I went over to The Doctor’s bunk and shook him, him always being very slow at waking up in the morning. But he was off his bunk skorry enough this time, and so were the others, except for Wall who slept like dead meat. “Very unfortunate,” The Doctor said. “A heart attack, that’s what it must have been.”

Then he said, looking round at us all: “You really shouldn’t have gone for him like that. It was most ill-advised really.”

Jojohn said:

“Come come, doc, you weren’t all that backward yourself in giving him a sly bit of fist.” Then Big Jew turned on me, saying:

“Alekth, you were too impetuouth. That latht kick wath a very very nathty one.” I began to get razdraz about this and said:

“Who started it, eh? I only got in at the end, didn’t I?” I pointed at Jojohn and said: “It was your idea.” Wall snored a bit loud, so I said: “Wake that vonny bratchny up. It was him that kept on at his rot while Big Jew here had him up against the bars.” The Doctor said:

“Nobody will deny having a little hit at the man, to teach him a lesson so to speak, but it’s apparent that you, my dear boy, with the forcefulness and, shall I say, heedlessness of youth, dealt him the coo de gras. It’s a great pity.”

“Traitors,” I said. “Traitors and liars,” because I could viddy it was all like before, two years before, when my so-called droogs had left me to the brutal rookers of the millicents. There was no trust anywhere in the world, O my brothers, the way I could see it. And Jojohn went and woke up Wall, and Wall was only too ready to swear that it was Your Humble Narrator that had done the real dirty tolchocking and brutality. When the chassos came along, and then the Chief Chasso, and then the Governor himself, all these cell-droogs of mine were very shoomny with tales of what I’d done to oobivat this worthless pervert whose krovvy-covered plott lay sacklike on the floor.

That was a very queer day, O my brothers. The dead plott was carried off, and then everybody in the whole prison had to stay locked up until further orders, and there was no pishcha given out, not even a mug of hot chai. We just all sat there, and the warders or chassos sort of strode up and down the tier, now and then creeching “Shut it” or “Close that hole” whenever they slooshied even a whisper from any of the cells.

Then about eleven o’clock in the morning there was a sort of like stiffening and excitement and like the von of fear spreading from outside the cell, and then we could viddy the Governor and the Chief Chasso and some very bolshy important-looking chellovecks walking by real skorry, govoreeting like bezoomny. They seemed to walk right to the end of the tier, then they could be slooshied walking back again, more slow this time, and you could slooshy the Governor, a very sweaty fatty fair-haired veck, saying slovos like “But, sir—” and “Well, what can be done, sir?” and so on. Then the whole lot stopped at our cell and the Chief Chasso opened up. You could viddy who was the real important veck right away, very tall and with blue glazzies and with real horrorshow platties on him, the most lovely suit, brothers, I have ever viddied, absolutely in the heighth of fashion. He just sort of looked right through us poor plennies, saying, in a very beautiful real educated goloss: “The Government cannot be concerned any longer with outmoded penological theories. Cram criminals together and see what happens. You get concentrated criminality, crime in the midst of punishment. Soon we may be needing all our prison space for political offenders.” I didn’t pony this at all, brothers, but after all he was not govoreeting to me. Then he said: “Common criminals like this unsavoury crowd”—(that meant me, brothers, as well as the others, who were real prestoopnicks and treacherous with it)—“can best be dealt with on a purely curative basis. Kill the criminal reflex, that’s all. Full implementation in a year’s time. Punishment means nothing to them, you can see that. They enjoy their so-called punishment. They start murdering each other.” And he turned his stern blue glazzies on me. So I said, bold:

“With respect, sir, I object very strongly to what you said then. I am not a common criminal, sir, and I am not unsavoury. The others may be unsavoury but I am not.” The Chief Chasso went all purple and creeched:

“You shut your bleeding hole, you. Don’t you know who this is?”

“All right, all right,” said this big veck. Then he turned to the Governor and said: “You can use him as a trail-blazer. He’s young, bold, vicious. Brodsky will deal with him tomorrow and you can sit in and watch Brodsky. It works all right, don’t worry about that. This vicious young hoodlum will be transformed out of all recognition.”

And those hard slovos, brothers, were like the beginning of my freedom.

3

That very same evening I was dragged down nice and gentle by brutal tolchocking chassos to viddy the Governor in his holy of holies holy office. The Governor looked very weary at me and said: “I don’t suppose you know who that was this morning, do you, 6655321?” And without waiting for me to say no he said: “That was no less a personage than the Minister of the Interior, the new Minister of the Interior and what they call a very new broom. Well, these new ridiculous ideas have come at last and orders are orders, though I may say to you in confidence that I do not approve. I most emphatically do not approve. An eye for an eye, I say. If someone hits you you hit back, do you not? Why then should not the State, very severely hit by you brutal hooligans, not hit back also? But the new view is to say no. The new view is that we turn the bad into the good. All of which seems to me grossly unjust. Hm?”

So I said, trying to be like respectful and accomodating:

“Sir.” And then the Chief Chasso, who was standing all red and burly behind the Governor’s chair, creeched:

“Shut your filthy hole, you scum.”

“All right, all right,” said the like tired and fagged-out Governor. “You, 6655321, are to be reformed. Tomorrow you go to this man Brodsky. It is believed that you will be able to leave State Custody in a little over a fortnight. In a little over a fortnight you will be out again in the big free world, no longer a number. I suppose,” and he snorted a bit here, “that prospect pleases you?” I said nothing so the Chief Chasso creeched:

“Answer, you filthy young swine, when the Governor asks you a question.” So I said:

“Oh, yes, sir. Thank you very much, sir. I’ve done my best here, really I have. I’m very grateful to all concerned.”

“Don’t be,” like sighed the Governor. “This is not a reward. This is far from being a reward. Now, there is a form here to be signed. It says that you are wiling to have the residue of your sentence commuted to submission to what is called here, ridiculous expression, Reclamation Treatment. Will you sign?”

“Most certainly I will sign,” I said, “sir. And very many thanks.” So I was given an ink-pencil and I signed my name nice and flowy. The Governor said:

“Right. That’s the lot, I think.” The Chief Chasso said:

“The Prison Chaplain would like a word with him, sir.” So I was marched out and off down the corridor towards the Wing Chapel, tolchocked on the back and the gulliver all the way by one of the chassos, but in a very like yawny and bored manner. And I was marched across the Wing Chapel to the little cantora of the charles and then made to go in. The charles was sitting at his desk, smelling loud and clear of a fine manny von of expensive cancers and Scotch. He said:

“Ah, little 6655321, be seated.” And to the chassos: “Wait outside, eh?” Which they did. Then he spoke in a very like earnest way to me, saying: “One thing I want you to understand, boy, is that this is nothing to do with me. Were it expedient, I would protest about it, but it is not expedient. There is the question of my own career, there is the question of the weakness of my own voice when set against the shout of certain more powerful elements in the polity. Do I make myself clear?” He didn’t, brothers, but I nodded that he did. “Very hard ethical questions are involved,” he went on. “You are to be made into a good boy, 6655321. Never again will you have the desire to commit acts of violence or to offend in any way whatsoever against the State’s Peace. I hope you take all that in. I hope you are absolutely clear in your own mind about that.” I said: