Tatiana and Alexander: A Novel(149)

Alexander punched him in the face, and Ouspensky fell off the berth to the floor. Alexander kicked him with the boot that was too small for him. Alexander scared even himself. He was dangerously close to killing another human being in hot blood. It wasn't like the anger at Slonko that had been immediate and unstoppable. His fury at Ouspensky was tinged with fury at himself for letting his guard down, and tinged even more with the black hurt at being betrayed for so long by the person closest to him. This made Alexander weaker instead of stronger, and he pulled back and moved away, sinking onto the berth. He and Ouspensky remained shackled to one another.

For a few minutes, Ouspensky did not speak as he struggled to get his breath back. When he spoke his voice was quiet. "Back then I didn't want to die," he said. "They offered me a way out, they said if I brought them information on you--if you helped your wife to escape, or if you were an American like they suspected, that for that information they would set me free. I would be given back my life and reunited with my wife and children."

"They certainly offered you enough," said Alexander.

"I didn't want to die!" Ouspensky cried. "Surely you of all men can understand that! Every month I had to provide them with reports on everything you said and did. They were very interested in our God discussion. Once a month, I would be called to the NKGB command and questioned about you. Did anything raise my suspicions? Did you do anything to trip yourself up? Did you ever use phrases or words that were either unacceptable or foreign? For all that my wife got an extra monthly ration and an increase in her share of my military pay. And I got a few extra rubles to spend on--"

"You sold me out for a few pieces of silver, Nikolai? You sold me out to buy yourself a couple of whores?"

"You never did trust me."

"I did trust you," replied Alexander with clenched fists. "I just didn't tell you anything. But I had thought you were worthy of my trust. I defended you to my brother-in-law." And now Alexander understood. "Pasha suspected you from the start, and he kept trying to tell me." He had a sense about people the way Tatiana had a sense about people. Alexander groaned aloud. He hadn't listened, and now look. He would have told Ouspensky everything, but he hadn't wanted to endanger him with information that might have cost him his miserable life.

Ouspensky paused. "I told them everything I knew about you. I told them you talked to the Americans in Colditz in English. I told them you talked to the English in Catowice. I told them you wanted to surrender. I told them everything I knew. Why did I still get twenty-five years?"

"See if you can figure it out."

"I don't know why!" Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html

"Because!" Alexander yelled. "You sold your mortal f*cking soul for some phantom freedom. Are you really surprised that you now have neither? What do you think they care for their promises? You think they care for you because you gave them a bit of worthless information? They still haven't found my wife. And they never will. I'm surprised they gave you only twenty-five years." Alexander lowered his voice. "Their rewards are usually eternal."

"Oh, you're taking this all so personally! I'm going to f*cking prison and you're--"

"Nikolai, I've been manacled to you for the last two months," Alexander said in a broken voice. "Manacled! For nearly three years you and I ate out of the same f*cking helmet at the front, drank out of the same flask..."

"My allegiance was to the state," Ouspensky said. "Iwanted it to be. I wanted them to protect me. They told me you were as good as dead with or without my help."

"Why tell me now? Why tell me anything?"

"Why not tell you now?" Ouspensky was down to a whisper.

"God, when am Iever going to learn! Don't speak to me again, Ouspensky," said Alexander. "Ever. If you speak to me, I will not answer you. If you persist, I have ways of forcing you to be silent."

"Then force me." Ouspensky's head was lowered.

Alexander kicked the chains at him and moved a full, stretched-out iron meter away. "Death is too good for you," he said and turned to the wall.

Where they were going it was hard to tell; it was summer outside, and warm, and it didn't rain, and the night air coming through the small opening smelled of trees. Alexander closed his eyes, and rubbed the bridge of his nose, viscerally recalling the wet towel on his face and Tatiana's mouth on him. The longer they traveled, the sharper the memory became until he would nearly groan out loud at the sensation of blood from his nose dripping down onto the white sheets and Tatiana cradling his head to her breasts, murmuring,"You were being fed to me alive, Shura."

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

Jeb, November 1945

TATIANA AGREED TO GOto dinner with Edward. Vikki looked after Anthony. Tatiana dressed up a little, putting on a blue skirt and a beige merino wool sweater, but no matter how much Vikki asked her to, she did not let down her hair, leaving it pinned back in one very long braid, and she did not put on any makeup. Then she put on her coat and scarf, sat on the couch and waited with Anthony on her lap and a picture book in front of them.

"What are you worried about?" Vikki asked, milling around them, picking up the newspapers that had piled up. "You go to lunch with him all the time and talk. Only the title of the meal will change." Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html