The Tower (34 page)

‘Yes.’

‘Where does it come from?’

Father Hogan looked up towards the constellation, low on the tropical horizon.

‘From there,’ he said. ‘From a dark spot in the constellation of Scorpio, a little above Antares.’

‘Are you mocking me?’

‘No. We are certain of it.’

‘So that’s what you’re waiting for . . . My God, a message from another world!’

‘Do you understand now? At least allow me to leave. I can go alone. All I need is a small escort and enough supplies to make my way there. I can’t wait any longer.’

‘I do understand, but you mustn’t let yourself panic. It would be a terrible mistake to attempt the journey alone. The risk of never arriving would be much greater than any delay involved in waiting here an extra day or two. It won’t take them much longer, I’m sure of it. If in two days’ time we still haven’t sighted them, I’ll concede that something has happened and give the order to move on myself. I’ve already instructed the men to prepare for departure.’

Father Hogan nodded resignedly and started to walk off, but Jobert called him back. ‘Wait, there’s something there.’

The priest spun round and saw that Jobert was staring at a little hill about a kilometre to the east of their camp.

‘I don’t see anything at all,’ said Father Hogan in disappointment.

‘The scouts are signalling something. Look.’

Hogan could indeed see a flashing light on the hill now.

‘There’s no doubt about it,’ said Jobert. ‘Someone is approaching. It may very well be him. Stay here and don’t move. This is a matter I want to see to personally.’

He called the men and divided them into groups, then summoned his officers. ‘Gentlemen,’ he said, ‘it seems likely that the individual who has just been sighted is Selznick. He is a deserter and a murderer and he absolutely must be court-martialled. Each of you will now take your positions, giving the area of the well a wide berth, so that he’ll have no escape route. We’ll wait until they set up camp and then, at my signal, you’ll come out of hiding but remain outside shooting range if possible. Selznick is not alone. If there is a reaction of any sort from his men, don’t hesitate to fire, but leave Selznick out of it. He has to be taken alive.’

The officers gathered their units and mounted their horses, proceeding swiftly and silently towards the post to which each had been assigned.

Father Hogan approached Colonel Jobert. ‘Do you mind if I come with you?’ he asked.

‘No, as long as you give me your word that you will keep your distance and not interfere in any way.’

Father Hogan nodded and, as soon as Jobert had jumped onto his horse at the head of his group, he mounted the mare he’d been given and followed a short way behind. When they were near the well, Jobert ordered his men to dismount and to remain hidden. He himself crawled even closer on his hands and knees, creeping along until he was about thirty metres from the well, then lay on his belly and took out his binoculars. A group of men on horseback was coming from the east, followed by a small caravan of camels. They were preceded by two bedouins armed with rifles, who were approaching the well at a trot. They made a brief tour of inspection before rushing in to draw water. The others followed their lead, spurring their horses to the well, and lined up next to their comrades. They filled their flasks, passing them down the line, then began to gather wood for a fire. The last to get off his horse seemed to be their leader. He was wearing the uniform of a Legion colonel with leather boots, but his head was covered and his features were hidden by a keffiyeh. When one of the men brought him a flask he bared his face and dismounted from his horse, nearing the fire. It was Selznick.

Although he had been practically certain it would be him, Jobert still stared at the sight of the man he had been hunting for so long and who would at last have no escape. He checked his watch and calculated that the others would be securely in position by now. He waited a few more minutes, then fired a shot into the air. The sound of galloping briefly filled the air as three squads of legionnaires drew up in a wide semicircle around the well.

There was no resistance. Seeing that they were completely surrounded and outnumbered, with no way to break through, Selznick’s men tossed their weapons to the ground and surrendered. Not even Selznick himself put up any opposition, handing his arms over to the officer who arrested him. The bedouins who were escorting him, about ten of them in all, were disarmed, allowed to stock up on water and then sent back in the direction they had come from; any of them who dared show his face again would be shot without hesitation.

Selznick was handcuffed and brought before Jobert. The two men stared at each other for some time in silence. The air of tension that enveloped them was so palpable that, one by one, the other soldiers disappeared. Even Father Hogan left them alone.

‘Quite a stroke of luck, Colonel. Nothing short of incredible, actually,’ said Selznick after a while. ‘Two grains of sand on opposite sides of the desert had about as much chance of meeting up as we did.’

‘No, that’s not true, Selznick. I was here waiting for you. You’d been spotted on the Shabka trail. I was informed of your movements thanks to a high-powered radio we have with us.’

‘A radio?’ said Selznick. He sneered. ‘Well, then, it wasn’t a fair fight, Jobert. You’ve contaminated the last place on earth where a man could still be free, like a fish in the sea or a bird in the air.’

‘Free to kill, to steal, to betray . . .’

‘Just free,’ said Selznick.

T
HEY STARTED THEIR
journey again without delay that very day and Colonel Jobert resumed his place at the head of the column.

Father Hogan approached him. ‘What do you intend to do with Selznick?’ he asked.

‘What did you expect, a summary execution without a trial? I’m an officer, not a hangman. There’s a redoubt five days from here. We’ll be able to reach it with a slight detour. It’s used to store supplies and water for our troops who are crossing through this area, and it is usually garrisoned by a small unit. I’ll turn Selznick over to them and we can proceed without worrying about him. We’ll be at the Sand of Ghosts in a week or so and he’ll be facing a court-martial . . . Who can say which is the better fate?’

They continued south, crossing first a rocky ridge that jutted out of the sand here and there, and then a flat, barren stretch of hammada that was strewn with dried thornbushes. On the fourth day they arrived at a wadi and Jobert ordered his men to follow its course from then on.

During the journey, Jobert allowed his men to remove Selznick’s bonds so he could defend himself against the flies and gnats that accompanied them, incessantly tormenting the men, horses and camels.

On the evening of the fifth day, they came within sight of the redoubt. Nothing but a low drystone wall and a flag that hung from an acacia-wood flagpole. The place appeared to be deserted. It was very small and only one of the three companies could camp inside. The others set up outside.

A strange crepuscular light hung over the desolate site. Selznick was tied to a pole and given a blanket to protect him from the chill of the coming night. Colonel Jobert entered what must have been the commander’s quarters: a hovel with no doors or windows, covered everywhere with dust. A couple of sheets of yellowed paper lay on the table and several heat-curled books sat on a shelf. Insects, big ground beetles with long legs, scrambled off to find somewhere to hide, surprised by the intruder. Jobert left that ominous place and went towards the desert to walk off his tension and anxiety. When he returned, the men had eaten and were already resting, worn out by their exertions, but Selznick was still awake.

‘Can’t sleep, my friend?’ he asked Jobert with a mocking smile.

‘Don’t call me that, Selznick. You are a murderer and a deserter. You and I have nothing in common but the uniform that you have dishonoured and I would strip that from you with my bare hands if I could.’

Selznick smirked. ‘Not what you were expecting, is it? There’s not a living soul here. What are you going to do with me? Is that what’s keeping you from sleeping, Jobert? There’s a remedy to every problem: a nice, quick summary trial and off to the firing squad. Then you can continue untroubled on your way.’

‘Shut up, Selznick. Who do you think you’re talking to? I’m not like you. I have principles. I believe in a code of ethics.’

‘Do you think that makes you better than me? Tell me, then, what are you willing to shoot and kill for? What are you fighting for here, Jobert? Why are you wearing that uniform?’

‘I . . . I’m fighting for the values of the civilization that I believe in.’

Selznick shook his head. ‘Western Christianity . . . would not exist without Judas. Tell me, Jobert, have you ever known what it feels like to be detested, to bear the weight of the contempt and hate of your fellow men? To be the wolf driven from the pack? True heroism is . . . the courage of people like me. We are the only ones who dare to face the final challenge . . .’

Jobert considered him with an expression of dismay. ‘That won’t save you from the firing squad, Selznick. I swear it.’

‘No one can foresee when or whom death will strike, Jobert. You who are a soldier should know that.’ He fell silent for a while, then looked at the rudimentary flagpole standing at the corner of the enclosure wall. ‘Have you noticed that flag? If the men here were forced to leave, why did no one lower it? How is that possible?’ A breath of wind set off a mild flutter in the torn flag that hung from the pole. ‘Haven’t you asked yourself why that flag was never lowered, Colonel Jobert?’

The officer shuddered at the thought of what Selznick was implying. He went back, nearly fleeing, to the miserable hovel at the end of the camp. He lit a candle stub and put it inside a lantern, then left the compound to reconnoitre the desert to the east and the south, where the scouts had not yet been. He finally found a little group of mounds, nearly flattened by the wind. On one side were the unburied remains of an officer. A Legion captain’s uniform still dressed the mummified body.

Jobert felt a wave of panic rising. What could have exterminated that garrison if not an epidemic? There were no signs of fighting either inside or outside the camp. Just the traces of abandonment; of a slow, inexorable agony.

He went back to the redoubt and walked slowly among the slumbering men, holding the lantern high to illuminate their faces. Perhaps they’d already been contaminated; perhaps some incurable disease was already worming its way through their bodies. Perhaps he himself was doomed.

Jobert walked towards the pole that Selznick was tied to. He seemed to be drowsing, but as soon as Jobert passed, he opened his eyes and stared at him with a contemptuous expression. ‘An epidemic,’ he said, shrugging. ‘You’ve no hope.’

Jobert regained his composure. ‘That may be,’ he admitted. ‘But you’ll have no chance to celebrate, Selznick. You’re going back with them and if for any reason the unit does not reach Bir Akkar, I’ll order the commander to kill you.’

‘You’ll have to kill me now,’ said Selznick. ‘Because I shall accuse you of having abandoned them to their destiny, fully realizing that they would all die on the way back of the same disease that wiped out this garrison. I’ll say that you did not eat and drink with them because you didn’t want to risk contagion. You’ll be lynched, Jobert. Don’t forget what sort of men these soldiers were before they joined the Legion. Under the present circumstances, they have nothing to lose. Unless . . .’

‘Unless what?’

‘Unless you agree to take me with you.’

‘Where?’

‘To Kalaat Hallaki and the Sand of Ghosts.’

‘You’re mad, Selznick! I am not . . .’

‘Spare me your lies, Colonel. On such a long, boring journey, men talk, and I’m neither stupid nor deaf. There are only two roads leading away from here. One that goes back to Bir Akkar and another that leads into the heart of the south-eastern quadrant, towards Wadi Addir and Kalaat Hallaki. If you’re sending your men back to Bir Akkar without you, that means you intend to proceed south.’

‘Kalaat Hallaki does not exist. It’s a legend, like so many others that the peoples of the desert tell tales of.’

‘You forget that I worked with Desmond Garrett. Kalaat Hallaki exists and that’s where you’re going. Why? And why this deployment of forces?’

Jobert realized that he had no choice. He either gave in to blackmail and took an extremely dangerous man with him on a mission that was already high-risk to start with, or he finished him off then and there. After all, if he chose to do so he would just be carrying out an act of justice which would not be long in coming in any case. He could free Selznick of his chains and kill him, and tell his men that he had managed to get loose and was trying to escape. He slipped behind the pole, released the man’s bonds and put his hand on his holster.

Selznick understood his intent immediately. ‘Yes,’ he said, ‘this is surely the wisest decision. But are you sure that you’re not murdering me in cold blood? Are you sure you want to commit the most shocking injustice of all?’

‘I would have preferred to hand you over to the law, Selznick, but you’ve left me no choice,’ said Jobert, pointing his revolver at him.

Selznick stared straight into his eyes without a tremor, without the slightest hesitation. ‘Death cannot be worse than life,’ he said, ‘but before you pull that trigger, answer me one last question, Colonel. You know the true reason my superiors have hunted me down so tenaciously, don’t you? That’s why you want to kill me.’

‘Desertion. The massacre of General LaSalle and his men.’

‘Don’t be naïve, Jobert. If you allow me five more minutes of life I’ll tell you the real reason. A reason that will set your heart at ease if you’re cynical enough, or that will torment you with remorse and shame for all the rest of your days if inside you there is the merest hint of that decency that you like to flaunt so much.’

Jobert’s finger was already curled around the trigger, but something stopped him. He knew that Selznick had been used during the war by his own motherland, sent out on secret missions. He had neither known nor cared to know any more, assuming that Selznick’s fierce, ruthless character made him suitable for such work.