They have me waiting here. I can hear the guards outside and the door is locked. I don’t even have a pen, so I can’t do any work. I’ve got a copy of the morning’s intercept in my pocket but just staring at the jumble of letters won’t do any good, it would only drive me mad.
I rattle my fingers on the field table.
I put my ear down to the keyhole, but there’s nothing now. Probably still a guard outside, of course, but they’re keeping mum.
I put my ear to the keyhole but can make out nothing. Are there still guards posted? Perhaps, if Hooper has managed to incriminate himself, the guards have been removed?
Perhaps the door is unlocked and they left me to sleep? I try the handle. No such luck.
The night draws on at its own pace. I suppose by morning I will know my fate.
“Very well. I see there’s no point in covering up. You know everything anyway.”
Harris nods, and waits for me to continue.
“There was a young man, Harris. I met him in the town. A few months ago now. We got to talking - not about work. I said I was an accountant for a firm, just as I was supposed to. Although he seemed to know that wasn’t true. That got me wondering if he wasn’t one of us.”
Harris is not letting me off any more. “You seriously considered that possibility?”
“At the moment when the machine halted, Peterson and Jefferies were by the work-table, Collins and Humph were out having a smoke. I was by the front of the machine checking over the dip-switches. Hooper was the only one around the back of the Bombe. No-one else could have done it.”
“That’s not quite the same as seeing him do it,” Harris remarks.
The window is my only way out of here. I just need a way to smash it.
I go over to the window and try to jimmy it open. Not much luck, but in my struggling I notice this window only backs on the thin little brook that runs down the back of the compound. Which means, if I smashed it, I might get away with no-one seeing.
From outside, I hear a voice. Hooper’s. He’s haranguing someone, for something.
I leave the cup exactly where it is. “Why?” I ask coldly. “What’s in it?”
“Lapsang Souchong,” he remarks, placing his own cup down on the table with a clink. “Such a curious flavour. It might almost not be tea at all. You might say it hides a multitude of sins. As do you, isn’t that correct?”
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
The rest of the night passes slowly. I sleep a little, dozing mostly. Then I’m woken by the rooster in the yard. The door opens, and Harris comes in. He takes one look at the broken window and frowns with puzzlement.
“What happened there?”
“Tell Hooper I’ve confessed. In fact, better yet, let him see you march me off in handcuffs. Then let him go, and watch him. Ten to one he’ll go straight to wherever he’s hidden that component and his game will be up.”
Harris nods slowly, chewing over the idea. It isn’t a bad plan even - except, of course, Hooper has not hidden the component, and won’t lead them anywhere. But that’s a problem I might be able to solve once I’m out of this place; and once they’re busy, dogging Hooper’s steps from hut to hut.
“It’s an interesting idea,” the Commander muses. “But I’m not so sure he’ll be that stupid. And if he’s already passed the part on, well, the whole thing will only be a waste of time.”
“Yes. I suppose he was their agent. I should have realised but I didn’t. Then he threatened to tell you. I thought you would have me locked up: I couldn’t bear the thought of it. I love working here. I’ve never been so happy, so successful, anywhere before. I didn’t want to lose it.”
“So what did you do with the component?” Harris talks urgently. He grips his gloves tightly in one hand, perhaps prepared to lift them and strike if it is required. “Have you passed it to this man already? Have you left it somewhere for him to find?”
“No. I have no idea.”
“Come now,” Harris says, quite the reasonable gent. “I think you can be a little more forthcoming.”
I suppose my fist would do a good enough job. But I’d cut myself to ribbons, most likely. And the noise would be terrible. There must be a way of making this easier. I’m supposed to be a thief now. What would a burglar do?
“I know nothing about it.” My voice is shaking with anger as I try to speak. I’m not accustomed to facing off against the Commander - against any man with a gun in his holster. “I don’t know what gives you the right to pick on me. I demand a lawyer.”
“This is time of war,” Harris answers. His tone of voice has fallen down into darkness. “And by God, if I have to shoot you to recover the component or stop it falling into the wrong hands, I will, do you understand me?”
There’s an icy silence. I’ve cracked him a little at least. He’s angry. He waves an impetuous hand across the field table.
“Now, drink your tea and talk.”
My anger deflates like a collapsing equation, all arguments cancelling each other out. The world, of course, owes me nothing; and I owe it everything.
“I’m afraid we have only one option, Manning,” Harris says. “Please, man. Tell us where the component is.”
After a chance like this? A chance - however real - to save my neck? To hand it over - what, to save Hooper’s worthless skin?
“I don’t know what gives you the right to pick on me. I demand a lawyer.”
“This is time of war,” Harris answers. His tone of voice has fallen down into darkness. “And by God, if I have to shoot you to recover the component or stop it falling into the wrong hands, I will, do you understand me?”
There’s an icy silence. He’s angry. He waves an impetuous hand across the field table.
“Now, drink your tea and talk.”
“The Captain thought it was a good scheme. You’ll most likely get a promotion.”
“Let’s hope things work out,” Harris agrees darkly.
He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
The window is my only way out of here. I just need a way to smash it.
“If I wanted to escape, I would have made damn sure that I could,” I tell him sternly.
“Well, I’m afraid it is going to get worse for you,” Harris replies soberly. “We followed Hooper, and he took himself neatly to bed and slept like a boy scout. Which puts us back to square one, and you firmly in the frame. And I’m afraid I don’t have time for any more games. I want you to tell me where that component is, or we will hang you as a traitor.”
He passes a hand across his eyes with a long look of despair.
“I’m going to go outside and organise a rope. That’ll take about twelve minutes. That’s how long you have to decide.”
“I don’t know what gives you the right to pick on me. Shouldn’t I have a lawyer?”
“This is time of war,” Harris answers. His tone of voice has fallen down into darkness. “And by God, if I have to shoot you to recover the component or stop it falling into the wrong hands, I will, do you understand me?”
There’s an icy silence. He’s angry at my slippery answers. He waves an impetuous hand across the field table.
“Now, drink your tea and talk.”
“We’ll fool him. He’s waiting to be sure that I’ve been strung up for this, so let’s give him what he wants. If he sees me taken away, clapped in irons - he’ll go straight to that component and set about getting rid of it.”
Harris gets to his feet. “All right,” he says. “I should no better than to trust a clever man, but we’ll give it a go.” Then, he smiles, with all his teeth, like a wolf. “Hooper’s in Hut 3 being debriefed by the Captain. Let’s see if we can’t get his attention somehow.”
He raps on the door for the guard and gives the man a quick instruction. He returns a moment later with a cool pair of iron cuffs.
“Put ‘em up,” Harris instructs, and I do so. The metal closes around my wrists like a trap. I stand and follow Harris willingly out through the door.
But whatever I’m doing with my body, my mind is scheming. Somehow, I’m thinking, I have to get away from these men long enough to get that component behind Hut 2 and put it somewhere Hooper will go. Or, otherwise, somehow get Hooper to go there himself...
Harris marches me over to Hut 3, and gestures for the guard to stand aside. Pushing me forward, he opens the door nice and wide.
“Captain. Manning talked. If you’d step out for a moment?”
“Of my standing. My reputation.” I don’t like to talk of myself like this, but I carry on all the same. “Hooper simply can’t bear knowing that, once all this is over, I’ll be the one receiving the knighthood and he...”
“No-one will be getting a knighthood if the Germans invade,” Harris answers sharply. He casts a quick eye to the door of the Hut to check the latch is still down, then continues in more of a murmur: “Not you and not Hooper. Now answer me.” For the first time since the door closed, I wonder what the threat might be if I do not.
“Let’s get straight to the point. Do you have the component?” Harris demands. “Do you know where it is?”
Well, then. To Hooper’s dorm. Time to wrap up this little game once and for all.
I creep around the outside of the Huts. All are quiet, steel-grey in the hazy moonlight; a few shining copper from arc-lamps strung from the trees. A few guards patrol the area at night but not many - after all, very few know this place even exists.
Our quarters are arranged away from the House; where we sleep is of less importance than where we work. We each have our own Hut, through some are less permanent than other’s. Hooper’s is a military issue tent: quite a large canopy, with two rooms inside and a short porch area where he insists people leave their shoes. It’s all zipped up for the night and no light shines from inside.
I hang back for a moment. If Harris is keeping to the terms of our deal then someone will be watching this place. But I can see no-one.
“Well?”
“We’ll be outside the door,” Harris replies, seriously. “The first sign of any funny business and we’ll have you both on the floor in minutes. You understand? The country needs your brain, but it’s not too worried about your legs. Remember that.”
Then he gets to his feet, and opens the door, and marches me out and across the yard. The evening is drawing in and there’s a chill in the air. My mind is racing. I have one opportunity here - a moment in which to put the fear of God into Hooper and make him do something foolish to place himself in harm’s way. But how to achieve it?
“You ready?” Harris demands.
“You mean he didn’t even hide it? Just put it in his shoe?”
“No,” Harris replies. “That isn’t really what I mean. I mean, he managed to find it, by accident, somewhere where it wasn’t the night before. And at the same time, you’re sitting here with your window broken. So, I rather think you’ve played your last hand and lost. There’s no way Hooper stole that component and then just left it lying around in the doorway of his tent. No way at all. So I came to tell you that the game is up for you.”
He nods and gets to his feet. Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
Let me see. There’s the bunk, a bucket, nothing else. I have my jacket but nothing in the pockets - no handkerchief, for instance.
I let him have his rant. He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
If I leave the component here somewhere it should be somewhere I can rely on Hooper finding it, but no-one before Hooper. In particular.
I go over to the window and try to jimmy it open. Not much luck, but in my struggling I notice this window only backs on the thin little brook that runs down the back of the compound. Which means, if I smashed it, I might get away with no-one seeing.
From outside, I hear a voice. Hooper’s. He’s haranguing someone, for something.
“Oh, yes?”
“Yes. For what that’s worth. There’s still the issue of the component. It hasn’t turned up. He didn’t lead us to it. I guess he figured you must have had something on him. I don’t know.”
He looks quite put out by the whole affair. He is not the kind of man to deal well with ambiguities and probabilities, far preferred the clarity of fact and falsehood.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Hooper’s been taken away. They caught him, uncovering that missing Bombe component from a hiding place somewhere, apparently about to take it to his contact.” Russell harrumphs. “Quince was saying this morning, apparently his grandfather was German. So perhaps it’s to be expected. See you there?”
I wave to him and move away, my thoughts turning to the young man in the village. My lover. My contact. My blackmailer. Hooper may have taken the fall for the missing component, but if it was his recovering it from Hut 2 then I have nothing to sell to save my reputation, if I have any left.
If he didn’t, of course, and Harris was telling the truth about his sudden confession, then I will be able to buy my freedom once and for all.
“We’re still in ear-shot if they let Hooper go. Best get us inside and then we can talk, if we must.”
“I’ve had enough of your voice for one day,” Harris replies grimly. He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
“I know nothing about it.” My voice is shaking as I try to speak. I’m not accustomed to facing off against the Commander - against any man with a gun in his holster. “I don’t know what gives you the right to pick on me. Shouldn’t I have a lawyer?”
“This is time of war,” Harris answers. His tone of voice has fallen down into darkness. “And by God, if I have to shoot you to recover the component or stop it falling into the wrong hands, I will, do you understand me?”
There’s an icy silence. He’s angry. He waves an impetuous hand across the field table.
“Now, drink your tea and talk.”
“Of my genius. Hooper simply can’t stand that I’m cleverer than he is. We work so closely together, cooped up in that Hut all day. It drives him to distraction. To worse.”
“You’re suggesting Hooper would sabotage this country’s future simply to spite you?” Harris chooses his words like the military man he is, each lining up to create a ring around me.
“I know nothing about it.” My voice is shaking with anger as I try to speak. I’m not accustomed to facing off against the Commander - against any man with a gun in his holster. “I don’t know what gives you the right to pick on me. I demand a lawyer.”
“This is time of war,” Harris answers. His tone of voice has fallen down into darkness. “And by God, if I have to shoot you to recover the component or stop it falling into the wrong hands, I will, do you understand me?”
There’s an icy silence. I’ve cracked him a little at least. He’s angry at my slippery answers. He waves an impetuous hand across the field table.
“Now, drink your tea and talk.”
“Very well. I see there’s no point in covering up. You know everything anyway.”
Harris nods, and waits for me to continue.
“There was a young man, Harris. I met him in the town. A few months ago now. We got to talking - not about work, you understand. I said I was an accountant for a firm, just as I was supposed to. Although he seemed to know that wasn’t true. That got me wondering if he wasn’t one of us.”
Harris is not letting me off any more. “You seriously considered that possibility?”
“That’s not important now. What matters is what you do, this evening. All you have to do is go to the back of Hut 2. There’s a breeze-block with a cavity. That’s where I’ve put it. I’ll be locked up overnight, I should think. But you can pick it up and pass it to my contact. He’ll be at the south fence around two AM.”
“If you think I’ll do that then you’re crazy,” Hooper replies.
At that moment the door flies open and the Captain comes storming back inside.
Harris hustles me over to the barracks. “I hope that’s the end of it,” he mutters as he pushes me up the steps.
“Just be sure to let him out,” I reply. “And then see where he goes.”
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
The blanket. Perfect. I scoop it up off the bed and hold it in place over the window. This should do it. Then I heft back my arm, and take a strong swing, trying to imagine it’s Harris’ face on the other side.
The sound of the impact is muffled. With my arm still covered, I sweep out the remaining glass in the frame. I’m ready to escape. The only trouble is - when they look in on me in the morning, there will be no question what has happened. It won’t help me one jot with shifting suspicion off my back.
“Or be thrown into the river.”
“Hmm.” Harris chews his moustache thoughtfully. “Well, that would put us in a spot, seeing as how we’d never know for certain. We’d have to be ready to change our whole approach just in case the part had got through to the Germans. I don’t mind telling you, this is a disaster, this whole thing. What I want is to find that little bit of mechanical trickery anywhere. I don’t care where. In your luncheon box or under Hooper’s pillow, whatever. Just somewhere, and within the grounds of this place.”
“So he’s an idiot, and he hid it in his shoe.”
“No,” Harris replies. “That isn’t really what I mean. I mean, he managed to find it, by accident, somewhere where it wasn’t the night before. And at the same time, you’re sitting here with your window broken. So, I rather think you’ve played your last hand and lost. There’s no way Hooper stole that component and then just left it lying around in the doorway of his tent. No way at all. So I came to tell you that the game is up for you.”
He nods and gets to his feet. Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
“Maybe I can help with that.”
“Oh, yes? And how, exactly?”
It’s no good. Nothing I can do will be any less than obvious - something appearing where something was not there before. The men watching Hooper will know it is a deception and Hooper’s protestations will be taken at face value.
If I can’t find a way for Hooper to pick the component up, as if from a hiding place of his own devising, and be caught doing it, then I have no plan at all.
“No. I passed it on to Hooper.”
“I see. And what did he do with it?”
“I saw Hooper take it.”
“I see.” He is starting to lose his temper - I can see it in the creases of his face. I have seen Harris angry a few times, with lackeys and secretaries and the like, usually over things sent late or incorrectly. But never with us. With the “brains” he has always been so cautious, treating us like children. And now I see that, like a father, he wants only to smack us when we disobey him. “I wish you’d stop with your deceptions and get to the truth, man. Every minute matters.”
“The component?”
“Yes,” Harris replies levelly. “The component.”
“Well, as soon as it went missing the machine started to malfunction. We recognised the discrepancies in our results straight away...”
“Come now,” Harris says, quite the reasonable gent. “I think you can be a little more forthcoming.”
“If you’ll excuse me, Russell. I was about to take a bath.”
“Oh, of course. Well, you’ll hear soon enough. Can hardly hide the fact there’ll only be three of us from now on.”
I wave to him and move away, my thoughts turning to the young man in the village. My lover. My contact. My blackmailer. Hooper may have taken the fall for the missing component, but its recovery does mean I have nothing to sell to save my reputation, if I have any left.
“I always meant to tell you,” I tell him. “I thought perhaps I could find out who they were. Lead you to them.”
Harris looks at me with contempt. “You wretched little man. Don’t think your tongue will be able to get you out of trouble. You’re going to pay for what you’ve done, and you’re going to pay dearly. If a single man loses his life because of your pride and your perversions then God help your eternal soul. The fact is you committed a crime.” If I had any sense that he understood my predicament, and that he felt for my state of being, it collapses like a chain with a broken link. “You thought you could repair it with another, more serious crime?” He shakes his head. “I thought you men were supposed to be clever. But this is the action of a frightened woman. So I’d like you to tell me, now. Where is it?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
“Yes, I considered it. He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
There is nothing to be gained here. I have the component now; maybe it will be of some value tomorrow.
I suppose I do not believe they will hang me. They will lock me up and continue to use my brain, if they can. I wonder what they will tell the world - perhaps that I have taken my own life. That would be simplest. The few who know me would believe it.
Well, then. Not a bad existence, in prison. Removed from temptation. A kind of imposed monasticism, with plenty more problems to solve, and more mysteries to fathom.
I wonder what else I might yet unravel before I’m done?
“You can’t do this!” I cry. “It’s murder! I demand a trial, a lawyer; for God’s sake, man, you can’t just throw me overboard, we’re not barbarians...!”
“You leave me no choice,” Harris snaps back, eyes cold as gun-metal. “You and your damn cyphers. Your damn clever problems. If men like you didn’t exist, if we could just all be straight with one another.” He gets to his feet and heads for the door. “I fear for the future of this world, with men like you in. Reich or no Reich, Mr Manning, people like you simply complicate matters.”
Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
“I’ve thought so before.”
“Let me tell you what happened this morning. Our men watching Hooper’s tent saw Hooper wake up, get dressed, clamber out of his tent and then remark with surprise as, while looking for his shoes, he stumbled on something just at the entrance of his tent.”
“Trust me. He hasn’t. If I know that man, and I do, he’ll have wanted to keep his options open as long as possible. If the component’s gone then he’s committed and he’ll be hung for what he’s done. He’ll want to wait a week at least, make sure he’s escaped suspicion. And then he’ll pass it on.”
“And if we keep applying pressure to him, you think the component will eventually just turn up?”
“Right now, I think you take that role, Harris,” I reply coolly.
“Very droll,” he replies. “Let me tell you what happened this morning, and see if it takes the smile off your face. Our men watching Hooper’s tent saw Hooper wake up, get dressed, clamber out of his tent and then remark with surprise as, while looking for his shoes, he stumbled on something just at the entrance of his tent.”
“Maybe I can help with that.”
“Oh, yes? And how, exactly?”
“Please, Harris. You can’t understand the pressure they put me under. You can’t understand what it’s like, to be in love but be able to do nothing about it...”
“Be quiet, man. We know all about your and your sordid affairs.” The Captain curls his lip. “Don’t you know there’s a war on? Do you know the kind of place they would have sent you if it haven’t had been for that brain of yours? Don’t you think you owe it to your country to use it a little more?”
Do I, I wonder? Do I owe this country anything, this country that has spurned who and what am I since the day I became a man?
“Just adding to the drama,” I tell him, confidently. “I’m sure you can understand that.”
“I think we’ve had enough drama today already,” Harris replies. “Let’s hope for a clean kill.”
He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. I can only hope that Hooper bites on my baited hook. If he thinks I’m mad and bitter enough to have framed him somehow, and arrogant enough to have taunted him with a clue to where the damning evidence is hidden... if he hates me enough, and is paranoid enough, then he might unravel my little riddle and go searching around Hut 2.
Thinking back, I should have wrapped the part from the Bombe in one of his shirts before hiding it, that would have been a clever move. I really do make a terrible spy.
I cast around the small room. There’s a bucket in one corner for emergencies - I suppose I could use that. I pick it up but it’s not very easy to heft. And the noise would be terrible. There must be a way of making this easier. I’m supposed to be a thief now. What would a burglar do?
“I can’t remember.”
He draws his gun and lays it lightly on the field table.
“I’m sorry to threaten you, friend. But His Majesty needs that brain of yours, and that brain alone. There are plenty of other parts to you that our country could do better without. Now I’ll ask you again. Did you hide the component?”
Enough of this place. Time for me to get moving. I can get to the train station on foot, catch the postal train to Scotland and be somewhere else before anyone realises that I’m gone.
Of course, then they’ll be looking for me in earnest. As a confirmed traitor.
“Awkward,” I reply, looking him straight in the eye.
His gaze is unexpressive: I’ve seen Harris broad and full of laughter, but today he is rigid, as much part of the military machine as the devices in Hut 5.
“There really isn’t any time to be wasted,” he says. “But you know why you’re here, of course.”
“So would you after the night I’ve had.”
“Well, I’m afraid it is going to get worse for you,” Harris replies soberly. “We followed Hooper, and he took himself neatly to bed and slept like a boy scout. Which puts us back to square one, and you firmly in the frame. And I’m afraid I don’t have time for any more games. I want you to tell me where that component is, or we will hang you as a traitor.”
He passes a hand across his eyes with a long look of despair.
“I’m going to go outside and organise a rope. That’ll take about twelve minutes. That’s how long you have to decide.”
“Very well. I see there’s no point in covering up. You know everything anyway.”
Harris nods, and waits for me to continue.
“There was a young man, Harris. I met him in the town. A few months ago now. We got to talking - not about work. I said I was an accountant for a firm, just as I was supposed to. Although he seemed to know that wasn’t true. That got me wondering if he wasn’t one of us.”
Harris is not letting me off any more. “You seriously considered that possibility?”
The bunk has a solid metal frame, a blanket, a pillow, nothing more.
I settle down to wait.
Night falls. The clockwork of the heavens keeps turning, whatever state I might be in. No-one can steal the components that make the sun go down and the stars come out. I watch it performing its operations. I can’t sleep.
I wait a few minutes, to be sure Hooper and the Captain will have gone, then try the door. It’s locked, all right. I’m not really one for picking locks. Never tried it. I don’t think I’ll be getting out that way.
The rest of the night passes slowly. I sleep a little, dozing mostly. Then I’m woken by the rooster in the yard. The door opens, and Harris comes in. He takes one look at the broken window and frowns with puzzlement.
“What happened there?”
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
“You want me to tell you what happened? You’ll be disgusted, I’m quite sure.”
“I can imagine how it starts,” he growls.
“There was a young man, Harris. I met him in the town. A few months ago now. We got to talking - not about work. I said I was an accountant for a firm, just as I was supposed to. Although he seemed to know that wasn’t true. That got me wondering if he wasn’t one of us.”
Harris is not letting me off any more. “You seriously considered that possibility?”
I pat down my pockets but all I’m carrying is the intercept, which is no good at all.
“So would you after the night I’ve had.”
“Well, I’m afraid it is going to get worse for you,” Harris replies soberly. “We followed Hooper, and he took himself neatly to bed and slept like a boy scout. Which puts us back to square one, and you firmly in the frame. And I’m afraid I don’t have time for any more games. I want you to tell me where that component is, or we will hang you as a traitor.”
He passes a hand across his eyes with a long look of despair.
“I’m going to go outside and organise a rope. That’ll take about twelve minutes. That’s how long you have to decide.”
I put my ear down to the keyhole, but there’s nothing now. Probably still a guard outside, of course, but they’re keeping mum.
“Here at Bletchley? Of course I do”
“Here, now,” Harris replies firmly. “We’re not talking to everyone, you understand. I can imagine you might feel pretty sore about that, old man. I can imagine you feeling picked on. You always were a sensitive soul.”
“Yes, I considered it. He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
I settle down to wait.
Night falls. The clockwork of the heavens keeps turning, whatever state I might be in. No-one can steal the components that make the sun go down and the stars come out. I watch it performing its operations. I can’t sleep.
Has Hooper taken my bait?
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
Morning comes with the call of a rooster from the yard of the House. I must have slept after all. I pull myself up off the bunk, shivering slightly. There is condensation on the inside of the window. I have probably given myself a chill.
It’s not long after that Harris enters the hut. He closes the door behind him, careful as ever, then takes a chair across from me.
“You smell like a dog,” he remarks.
No, I am content. I suppose I do not believe they will hang me. They will lock me up and continue to use my brain, if they can. I wonder what they will tell the world - perhaps that I have taken my own life. That would be simplest. The few who know me would believe it.
Well, then. Not a bad existence, in prison. Removed from temptation. A kind of imposed monasticism, with plenty more problems to solve, and more mysteries to fathom.
I wonder what else I might yet unravel before I’m done?
The blanket. Perfect. I scoop it up off the bed and hold it in place over the window. This should do it. Then I heft my shoe by its toe, and take a strong swing, trying to imagine it’s Harris’ face on the other side.
The sound of the impact is muffled. With my arm still covered, I sweep out the remaining glass in the frame. I’m ready to escape. The only trouble is - when they look in on me in the morning, there will be no question what has happened. It won’t help me one jot with shifting suspicion off my back.
“What could I do?” I’m shaking now. The night is cold and the heat-lamp in this hut has been removed, presumably to keep me alert and on edge. “I don’t want to go to prison.”
“You committed a crime,” Harris answers. If I had any sense that he understood my predicament, and that he felt for my state of being, it collapses like a chain with a broken link. “You thought you could repair it with another, more serious crime?” He shakes his head. “I thought you men were supposed to be clever. But this is the action of a frightened woman. So I’d like you to tell me, now. Where is it?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
The bucket? Hardly. The bucket might do some good if I wanted to sweep up the glass afterwards, but it won’t help me smash the glass quietly.
“No. I have no idea.”
He’s talking about the missing reel from the Bombe. Russell discovered it this afternoon when the machine began producing strange results. We were all in the Hut when it happened and it had been in place when we sat down to work. The conclusions had been obvious to all four of us immediately, but had gone undiscussed, even after the empty socket was located, the wiring torn on either side.
“Lucky these things are easy to replace,” Russell had remarked, and that had been that. We had stopped work, sent out for a new part to be machined. And drunk our tea and watched each other.
“Come now,” Harris says, quite the reasonable gent. “As I told you. We’re not interviewing everyone. Only you. So. I think you can be a little more forthcoming.”
“No. I passed it on to Hooper.”
“I see. And what did he do with it?”
“You’re the one applying pressure here,” I answer smartly. “I’m just waiting until you tell me what is really going on.”
“It’s simple enough,” Harris replies. “I’ve seen the same story a hundred times before,” he says. “A young man like yourself - clever, somewhat removed from the world. The kind that doesn’t go to parties, you might say. Who takes himself a little too seriously, perhaps. Takes things too far. Further than a man should allow a thing to go. That’s the story, isn’t it? You took things too far, and then you couldn’t take them back. And now they have you.”
“I don’t know.”
“You can do better than that. Remember, there’s a hangman’s noose waiting for traitors.”
“I was quite certain, after a while. After we’d been talking. He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
I leave the cup exactly where it is. “Why?” I ask coldly. “What’s in it?”
“Lapsang Souchong,” he remarks, placing his own cup down on the table with a clink. “Such a curious flavour. It might almost not be tea at all. You might say it hides a multitude of sins. As do you, isn’t that correct?”
“I did.”
I have become, somehow, an accustomed liar - the words roll easily off my tongue. Perhaps I am a traitor, I think, now that I dissemble as easily as one.
“Go on,” Harris says, giving me no indication of whether he believes my tale.
“I was quite certain, after a while. After we’d been talking. He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
“For God’s sake,” I answer, voice quivering. “I’m no traitor.”
He stares back at me. “Let’s get straight to the point. Do you have the component?” Harris demands. “Do you know where it is?”
I wait a few minutes, to be sure the Commander will have gone, then try the door. It’s locked, all right. I’m not really one for picking locks. Never tried it. I don’t think I’ll be getting out that way.
From outside, I hear a voice. Hooper’s. He’s haranguing someone, for something.
I have a single moment to shout something to Hooper before the door closes.
“I’ll get you Hooper, you’ll see!” I cry. Then:
“All right. All right. That’s exactly what happened.”
“Shame,” he remarks. “I should have left that window open and put a guard on you. Might have been interesting to see where you went. Anyway, I’m glad you’re still here, even if you do smell like a dog.”
“I’d be happy to help,” I answer, sympathetically, leaning forward across the table. “I’m sure there’s something I could do.”
“Like what, exactly?”
“Yes.”
Harris smiles with satisfaction, as if your willingness to talk was somehow a result of his clever techniques.
“I see.” There’s a long pause, like the endless delay between feeding in a line of cypher to the Bombe and waiting for its valves and cylinders to heat up enough to being processing. “Would you like to explain?”
“Of my genius. Hooper simply can’t stand that I’m cleverer than he is. We work so closely together, cooped up in that Hut all day. It drives him to distraction. To worse.”
“You’re suggesting Hooper would sabotage this country’s future simply to spite you?” Harris chooses his words like the military man he is, each lining up to create a ring around me.
Well, then. To Hooper’s dorm. Time to wrap up this little game once and for all.
I creep around the outside of the Huts. All are quiet, steel-grey in the hazy moonlight; a few shining copper from arc-lamps strung from the trees. A few guards patrol the area at night but not many - after all, very few know this place even exists.
Our quarters are arranged away from the House; where we sleep is of less importance than where we work. We each have our own Hut, through some are less permanent than other’s. Hooper’s is a military issue tent: quite a large canopy, with two rooms inside and a short porch area where he insists people leave their shoes. It’s all zipped up for the night and no light shines from inside.
I hang back for a moment. If Harris is keeping to the terms of our deal then someone will be watching this place. But I can see no-one.
I put my ear down to the keyhole, but there’s nothing now. Probably still a guard outside, of course, but they’re keeping mum.
The blanket. Perfect. I scoop it up off the bed and hold it in place over the window. This should do it. Then I heft my shoe by its toe, and take a strong swing, trying to imagine it’s Harris’ face on the other side.
The sound of the impact is muffled. With my arm still covered, I sweep out the remaining glass in the frame. I’m ready to escape. The only trouble is - when they look in on me in the morning, there will be no question what has happened. It won’t help me one jot with shifting suspicion off my back.
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
The blanket. Perfect. I scoop it up off the bed and hold it in place over the window. This should do it. Then I heft back my arm, and take a strong swing, trying to imagine it’s Harris’ face on the other side.
The sound of the impact is muffled. With my arm still covered, I sweep out the remaining glass in the frame. I’m ready to escape. The only trouble is - when they look in on me in the morning, there will be no question what has happened. It won’t help me one jot with shifting suspicion off my back.
In case I’m being followed, I divert around the perimeter of the compound. It’s a much longer path, and it takes me across some terrain that’s difficult to negotiate in the dark - muddy, and thick with thistles and nestles.
Still, I can be confident no-one is following, as I hear nothing. I crouch down behind the rear wall of Hut 2. The component is still there, wrapped in a tea-towel and shoved into a cavity in a breeze-block at the base of the Hut wall.
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
“No. It’s not treason. It’s a trade, plain and simple.”
“If you think I’ll do that then you’re crazy,” Hooper replies.
At that moment the door flies open and the Captain comes storming back inside.
Harris hustles me over to the barracks. “I hope that’s the end of it,” he mutters as he pushes me up the steps.
“Just be sure to let him out,” I reply. “And then see where he goes.”
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
“I know where it is.”
Harris smiles with satisfaction, as if your willingness to talk was somehow a result of his clever techniques.
“I see.” There’s a long pause, like the endless delay between feeding in a line of cypher to the Bombe and waiting for its valves and cylinders to heat up enough to being processing. “Would you like to explain?”
I wait a few minutes, to be sure Hooper and the Captain will have gone, then try the door. It’s locked, all right. I’m not really one for picking locks. Never tried it. I don’t think I’ll be getting out that way.
“Perhaps the accomplice thought it was Hooper being kept in here. Maybe they saw the guard...”
“This is all too far-fetched,” Harris says. “I’m glad to have this back, but I need to think.”
Getting to his feet, he nods once. “You’ll have to wait a little longer, I’m afraid, Manning.”
Then he steps out of the door, muttering to himself.
I don’t take it. I’m not having my time wasted by signs and signals. I’ve been waiting here for long enough already, after being rudely pulled from my bunk. I touch a fingertip down on the table and look him in the eye.
“What’s going on, Harris?”
“Quite a difficult situation, this,” he begins, cautiously. I’ve seen him adopting this stiff tone of voice before, but only when talking to brass. “I’m sure you agree.”
I have no God to make peace with. I find it difficult to believe in goodness of any kind, in a world such as this.
But I am no traitor. At least, not to my country. To my sex, perhaps. But how could I support the Reich? If it were to come to power, I would be worse off than under the already dire circumstances of my existence.
I have no place here. No way to fit. I am the intercept - caught, in the middle, cryptic and understood only thinly, through devices and machines.
“Messy, without one missing cache!” I cry, laughing spitefully. It isn’t the best clue, hardly worthy of the Times, but it will have to do.
I only catch Hooper’s reaction for a moment - his eyebrow lifts in surprise and alarm. Good. If he thinks it is a threat then he just might be careless enough to go looking for what it might mean.
The Captain comes outside, pulling the door to. “What’s this?” he asks. “A confession? Just like that?”
“No,” the Commander admits, in a low voice. “I’m afraid not. Rather more a scheme. The idea is to let Hooper go and see what he does. If he believes we have Manning here in irons, he’ll try to shift the component.”
“If he has it.”
“Indeed.”
The Captain peers at me for a moment, like I was some kind of curious insect.
“Sometimes, I think you people are magicians,” he remarks. “Other times you seem more like witches. Very well.”
With that he opens the door to the Hut and goes back inside. The Commander uses the moment to hustle me roughly forward.
“And what was all that shouting about?” he hisses in my ear as we move towards the barracks. “Are you trying to pull something? Or just make me look incompetent?”
“Try me. Just me and him.”
“Alone?”
“Alone.”
Harris considers it. I watch his eyes, flicking backwards and forwards over mine, like a ribbon-reader trying to load in its program.
I wait a few minutes, to be sure Hooper and the Captain will have gone, then try the door. It’s locked, all right. I’m not really one for picking locks. Never tried it. I don’t think I’ll be getting out that way.
“Yes. Something like that. It’s a very lonely life otherwise. And the work we do - well. It only makes it worse. There’s barely a moment to oneself.”
“That’s how it is in the Service,” Harris answers. “I know you didn’t sign up for it but, well. There’s plenty of other men who didn’t who are serving now, too. Now, go on with your confession.”
That gives me pause, for a moment. I hadn’t thought of it as such. But I suppose that’s what this is. I am about to admit what I did, after all.
“There’s not much else to say. I took the part from Bombe computing device. You seem to know that already. I had to. He was going to expose me if I didn’t.”
“This young man was blackmailing you over your affair?”
“Yes, I considered it. He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
My anger deflates like a collapsing equation, all arguments cancelling each other out. The world, of course, owes me nothing; and I owe it everything.
“I’m afraid we have only one option, Manning,” Harris says. “Please, man. Tell us where the component is.”
“I saw Hooper take it.”
“I see.” He is starting to lose his temper - I can see it in the creases of his face. I have seen Harris angry a few times, with lackeys and secretaries and the like, usually over things sent late or incorrectly. But never with us. With the “brains” he has always been so cautious, treating us like children. And now I see that, like a father, he wants only to smack us when we disobey him. “I wish you’d stop with your deceptions and get to the truth, man. Every minute matters.”
“Really, Commander,” I reply. “It rather sounds like you want to spank me.”
“For God’s sake,” he declares with thick disgust, then swoops away out of the room. Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
“You want me to tell you what happened? You’ll be disgusted, I’m quite sure.”
“I can imagine how it starts,” he growls.
“There was a young man, Harris. I met him in the town. A few months ago now. We got to talking - not about work. I said I was an accountant for a firm, just as I was supposed to. Although he seemed to know that wasn’t true. That got me wondering if he wasn’t one of us.”
Harris is not letting me off any more. “You seriously considered that possibility?”
From inspiration - or desperation, I am not certain - a simple approach occurs to me. I toss the component away into the bushes behind Hooper’s tent and return to my barrack, wishing myself a long sleep followed by a morning, free of this business.
Satisfied, I return the short way up the paths between the huts to the barrack block and the broken window.
It’s a little harder getting back through - the window is higher off the ground than the floor inside - but after a decent bit of jumping and hauling I manage to get my elbows up, and then one leg, and finally I collapse inside, quite winded and out breath.
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
I shift in my seat. “Not really. The boy was a simpleton, obviously. My intellectual inferior. His good opinion meant nothing to be. Harris, please do not misunderstand me. I was simply after his body.”
Harris, to his credit, doesn’t flinch. Well, perhaps not: but he’ll have nightmares of this moment tonight. I’m almost tempted to reach out and try to take his hand to worsen it for him, but I hold back.
“Go on with your confession,” he replies. I shrug.
“There’s not much else to say. I took the part from Bombe computing device. You seem to know that already. I had to. He was going to expose me if I didn’t.”
“This young man was blackmailing you over your affair?”
“It doesn’t matter. Just remember what I said. I’ve beaten you, Hooper. Remember that.”
I get to my feet and open the door of the Hut. The Captain storms back inside and I’m quickly thrown out. Harris hustles me over to the barracks. “I hope that’s the end of it,” he mutters as he pushes me up the steps.
“Just be sure to let him out,” I reply. “And then see where he goes.”
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. Thinking back, I should have wrapped the part from the Bombe in one of his shirts before hiding it, that would have been a clever move. I really do make a terrible spy.
“I certainly don’t. But still, I’m surprised. I had Hooper down for a full-blown double agent, a traitor. He knows he’ll face the rope, doesn’t he?”
“Don’t ask me to explain why he did what he did,” Harris sighs. “Just be grateful that he did, and you’re now off the hook.”
Curiouser and curiouser. I nod once to Harris and slip outside into the cold morning air.
Hooper’s confession only makes sense in one fashion - if I successfully implied to him that I had him framed, but he did not unpack my little clue well enough to go looking for the component. Well, I had figured him for a more intelligent opponent, but a resignation from the game will suffice. Or perhaps he knew he would be followed if he went to check, and decided he would be doomed either way.
Of course, however, there is only one way to be certain that Harris is telling the truth, and that is to find a quiet moment and check the breeze-block at the back of Hut 2.
I wait a few minutes, to be sure the Commander will have gone, then try the door. It’s locked, all right. I’m not really one for picking locks. Never tried it. I don’t think I’ll be getting out that way.
From outside, I hear a voice. Hooper’s. He’s haranguing someone, for something.
The bucket? Hardly. The bucket might do some good if I wanted to sweep up the glass afterwards, but it won’t help me smash the glass quietly.
I slip off my jacket and hold it with one hand over the glass. This should do it. Then I heft the bucket - this really is quite a fiddly thing to be doing, and I need far longer arms, especially in cuffs - and take a strong swing, trying to imagine it’s Harris’ face on the other side.
The sound of the impact is muffled. With my arm still covered, I sweep out the remaining glass in the frame. I’m ready to escape. The only trouble is - when they look in on me in the morning, there will be no question what has happened. It won’t help me one jot with shifting suspicion off my back.
“I know where it is.”
Harris stares back at me.
“I see.” There’s a long pause, like the endless delay between feeding in a line of cypher to the Bombe and waiting for its valves and cylinders to heat up enough to being processing. “Would you like to explain?”
“No. Not for more than a moment, of course. Everyone here is marked out by how little we would be willing to say about it.”
“Only you told this young man more than a little, didn’t you?”
I nod. “He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
The blanket. Perfect. I scoop it up off the bed and hold it in place over the window. This should do it. Then I heft back my arm, and take a strong swing, trying to imagine it’s Harris’ face on the other side.
The sound of the impact is muffled. With my arm still covered, I sweep out the remaining glass in the frame. I’m ready to escape. The only trouble is - when they look in on me in the morning, there will be no question what has happened. It won’t help me one jot with shifting suspicion off my back.
“Maybe I can help with that.”
“Oh, yes? And how, exactly?”
Let me see. There’s the bunk, nothing else. I have my jacket but nothing in the pockets - no handkerchief, for instance.
“It will. Hooper’s running scared,” I reply, hoping I sound more confident than I feel.
“I think we’ve had enough drama today already,” Harris replies. “Let’s hope for a clean kill.”
He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
“All right,” he declares, gruffly. “We’ll try it. But if this doesn’t work, I might just put the both of you in front of a firing squad and be done with these games. Worse things happen in time of war, you know.”
“Alone,” I add.
“Alone?”
“Alone.”
Harris considers it. I watch his eyes, flicking backwards and forwards over mine, like a ribbon-reader trying to load in its program.
I put my ear down to the keyhole, but there’s nothing now. Probably still a guard outside, of course, but they’re keeping mum.
I wait a few minutes, to be sure the Commander will have gone, then try the door. It’s locked, all right. I’m not really one for picking locks. Never tried it. I don’t think I’ll be getting out that way.
From outside, I hear a voice. Hooper’s. He’s haranguing someone, for something.
It’s no good. Nothing I can do will be any less than obvious - something appearing where something was not there before. The men watching Hooper will know it is a deception and Hooper’s protestations will be taken at face value.
If I can’t find a way for Hooper to pick the component up, as if from a hiding place of his own devising, and be caught doing it, then I have no plan at all.
I lift the cup to my lips and take a sip, trying to act natural. He watches as I do so.
“Lapsang Souchong,” he remarks, placing his own cup down on the table with a clink. “Such a curious flavour. It might almost not be tea at all. You might say it hides a multitude of sins. As do you, isn’t that correct?”
“I’d be happy to help,” I answer, sympathetically, leaning forward across the table. “I’m sure there’s something I could do.”
“Like what, exactly?”
“I’ll talk to him.”
“What?”
“Put me in with Hooper. Maybe I can get something useful out of him. As his colleague.”
Harris shakes his head. “He despises you, doesn’t he? I don’t see why he’d give himself up to you.”
I suppose I do not believe they will hang me. They will lock me up and continue to use my brain, if they can. I wonder what they will tell the world - perhaps that I have taken my own life. That would be simplest. The few who know me would believe it.
Well, then. Not a bad existence, in prison. Removed from temptation. A kind of imposed monasticism, with plenty more problems to solve, and more mysteries to fathom.
I wonder what else I might yet unravel before I’m done?
Morning comes. I’m woken by a rooster calling from the yard behind the House. I must have slept after all. I pull myself up from the bunk, shivering slightly. There is condensation on the inside of the window. I have probably given myself a chill.
The door handle turns and without knocking, Harris comes inside. “You’re up,” he remarks, and then, “You smell like an animal.”
“Please, Hooper. You don’t understand what’s at stake. They have information on me. What I’ve done. I don’t need to tell you what I’ve done, you know. I know you do. And I know you think it’s wrong, but please man, have a soul. They were going to ruin me. And the component - it’s nothing. It’s not the secret of the Bombe, or even of what we’re doing here. It’s just a part. The German’s think it’s a weapon - a missile component or a detonator. Let them have it! Please, man. Just help me.”
“Help you?” Hooper stares, as I have gone mad. “Help you? You’re a traitor, Iain. You’re a traitor. A snake in the grass. And you’re queer.”
“No, Harris. The young man wasn’t blackmailing me.” I take a deep breath. “It was Hooper.”
“Hooper!” Harris exclaims, in surprise.
“It’s the truth, Harris. If I’m going to jail, then so be it, but I won’t hang at Traitor’s Gate. Hooper was the one who told the boy about our work. Hooper put the boy on to me. I should have realised, of course. These things don’t happen by chance. I was a fool to think they might. And then, once he had me compromised, he demanded I steal the part from the machine.”
“Which you did.” Harris leans forward. “And then what? You still have it? You put it somewhere?”
I slide the component into the tent, work the zip closed, and move quickly away into the shadows. It takes a few minutes for my breath to slow, and my heart to stop hammering, but I see no other movement. If anyone is watching Hooper’s tent, they are asleep at their posts.
Satisfied, I return the short way up the paths between the huts to the barrack block and the broken window.
It’s a little harder getting back through - the window is higher off the ground than the floor inside - but after a decent bit of jumping and hauling I manage to get my elbows up, and then one leg, and finally I collapse inside, quite winded and out breath.
Let me see. There’s the bunk, nothing else. I have my jacket but nothing in the pockets - no handkerchief, for instance.
I go over to the window and try to jimmy it open. Not much luck, but in my struggling I notice this window only backs on the thin little brook that runs down the back of the compound. Which means, if I smashed it, I might get away with no-one seeing.
From outside, I hear a voice. Hooper’s. He’s haranguing someone, for something.
“Then you know I’m right. You knew all along. Why did you threaten me?”
“We don’t know anything, except that we have a traitor, holding the fate of the country in their hands. No-one here is in the business of guessing, you know that. Our business is to decode. To get to the bottom of whatever’s going on. You’ve not placed yourself beyond suspicion and until you do so...” Harris shrugs. “I’m afraid I have fewer and fewer choices as time goes on. If that component has left these grounds then every minute is critical.”
“That’s exactly it,” I say quietly. “Harris. You understand. There are some things... which can get a man into a lot of trouble. Things one shouldn’t do.”
Harris, to his credit, doesn’t stiffen. He doesn’t lean away, or remove his hands from the table-top as though my condition might be infectious. I thought they trained them in the army to shoot my kind on sight but he does not.
Of course, he does not offer any sympathy either. He only nods, once. The understanding that has passed between us here is a mere turning cog in his calculations, with no meaning or righteousness to it.
“I’ve seen the same story a hundred times before,” he says. “A young man like yourself - clever, somewhat removed from the world. The kind that doesn’t go to parties, you might say. Who takes himself a little too seriously, perhaps. Takes things too far. Further than a man should allow a thing to go. That’s the story, isn’t it? You took things too far, and then you couldn’t take them back. And now they have you.”
“Only that this process is unreasonable, and I believe you’re behaving like a swine.”
“You imbecile,” Harris replies, with sudden force. He is half out of his chair. “You know the situation as well as I do, so why all this fencing? The Hun are poised like rats, ready to run all over this country. They’ll destroy everything, you do understand that, don’t you? You’re not so locked up inside your crossword puzzles that you don’t see that, are you? And this machine we have here - you men - you are the best and only hope this country has. God help her.”
I sit back, startled by the force of his outburst. His carefully sculpted expression has curled to angry disgust and there is spit flecking his lips. He really does hate me, I think. He’ll have my neck just for the taste of it.
The blanket. Perfect. I scoop it up off the bed and hold it in place over the window. This should do it. Then I heft back my arm, and take a strong swing, trying to imagine it’s Harris’ face on the other side.
The sound of the impact is muffled. With my arm still covered, I sweep out the remaining glass in the frame. I’m ready to escape. The only trouble is - when they look in on me in the morning, there will be no question what has happened. It won’t help me one jot with shifting suspicion off my back.
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
“All right,” he declares, gruffly. “We’ll try it. But if this doesn’t work, I might just put the both of you in front of a firing squad and be done with these games. Worse things happen in time of war, you know.”
“Alone,” I add.
“Alone?”
“Alone.”
Harris considers it. I watch his eyes, flicking backwards and forwards over mine, like a ribbon-reader trying to load in its program.
I wait a few minutes, to be sure Hooper and the Captain will have gone, then try the door. It’s locked, all right. I’m not really one for picking locks. Never tried it. I don’t think I’ll be getting out that way.
“I’d be happy to help,” I answer, sympathetically, leaning forward across the table. “I’m sure there’s something I could do.”
“Like what, exactly?”
“No. Not for more than a moment, of course. Everyone here is marked out by how little we would be willing to say about it.”
“Only you told this young man more than a little, didn’t you?”
I nod. “He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
“We’re still in ear-shot if they let Hooper go. Best get us inside and then we can talk, if we must.”
“I’ve had enough of your voice for one day,” Harris replies grimly. He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. I can only hope that Hooper bites on my baited hook. If he thinks I’m mad and bitter enough to have framed him somehow, and arrogant enough to have taunted him with a clue to where the damning evidence is hidden... if he hates me enough, and is paranoid enough, then he might unravel my little riddle and go searching around Hut 2.
Thinking back, I should have wrapped the part from the Bombe in one of his shirts before hiding it, that would have been a clever move. I really do make a terrible spy.
“All right.” With a sigh, your defiance collapses."If you’re searched my things then I suppose you’ve found my letters. Haven’t you? In fact, if you haven’t, don’t tell me.
Harris nods once. “I’ve seen the same story a hundred times before,” he says. “A young man like yourself - clever, somewhat removed from the world. The kind that doesn’t go to parties, you might say. Who takes himself a little too seriously, perhaps. Takes things too far. Further than a man should allow a thing to go. That’s the story, isn’t it? You took things too far, and then you couldn’t take them back. And now they have you.”
Making a wide circuit I creep around the tent. It has plenty of other flaps and openings, tied down with Gordian complexity. But nothing afford itself to slipping the component inside.
I wait a few minutes, to be sure Hooper and the Captain will have gone, then try the door. It’s locked, all right. I’m not really one for picking locks. Never tried it. I don’t think I’ll be getting out that way.
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
I wait a few minutes, to be sure Hooper and the Captain will have gone, then try the door. It’s locked, all right. I’m not really one for picking locks. Never tried it. I don’t think I’ll be getting out that way.
I give no reaction. She sighs to herself, as if this kind of behaviour is normal, and trots away inside the House to begin her duties.
I turn the corner of Hut 3 and walk down the short gravel path to Hut 2. It was a good spot to choose - Hut 2 is where the electricians work, and they’re generally focussed on what they’re doing. They don’t often come outside to smoke a cigarette so it’s easy to slip past the doorway unnoticed.
“I was quite certain, after a while. After we’d been talking. He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
“I saw Hooper take it.”
“I see.” He is starting to lose his temper - I can see it in the creases of his face. I have seen Harris angry a few times, with lackeys and secretaries and the like, usually over things sent late or incorrectly. But never with us. With the “brains” he has always been so cautious, treating us like children. And now I see that, like a father, he wants only to smack us when we disobey him. “I wish you’d stop with your deceptions and get to the truth, man. Every minute matters.”
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
“Absolutely.”
Harris opens the door and pushes me inside. “Captain,” he calls. “Could I have a moment?”
The Captain, looking puzzled, steps out. The door is closed. Hooper stares at me, open-mouthed, about to say something. I probably have less than a minute before the Captain storms back in and declares this plan to be bunkum.
I suppose my fist would do a good enough job. But I’d cut myself to ribbons, most likely. And the noise would be terrible. There must be a way of making this easier. I’m supposed to be a thief now. What would a burglar do?
The blanket. Perfect. I scoop it up off the bed and hold it in place over the window. This should do it. Then I heft my shoe by its toe, and take a strong swing, trying to imagine it’s Harris’ face on the other side.
The sound of the impact is muffled. With my arm still covered, I sweep out the remaining glass in the frame. I’m ready to escape. The only trouble is - when they look in on me in the morning, there will be no question what has happened. It won’t help me one jot with shifting suspicion off my back.
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
“I know where it is.”
Harris stares back at me.
“I see.” There’s a long pause, like the endless delay between feeding in a line of cypher to the Bombe and waiting for its valves and cylinders to heat up enough to being processing. “Would you like to explain?”
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
“No. It’s not treason. It’s a trade, plain and simple.”
“If you think I’ll do that then you’re crazy,” Hooper replies.
At that moment the door flies open and the Captain comes storming back inside.
Harris hustles me over to the barracks. “I hope that’s the end of it,” he mutters as he pushes me up the steps.
“Just be sure to let him out,” I reply. “And then see where he goes.”
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
Let me see. There’s the bunk, a bucket, nothing else. I have my jacket but nothing in the pockets - no handkerchief, for instance.
“Heard what?”
“Hooper’s been taken away. They caught him, uncovering that missing Bombe component from a hiding place somewhere, apparently about to take it to his contact.” Russell harrumphs. “Quince was saying this morning, apparently his grandfather was German. So perhaps it’s to be expected. See you there?”
I wave to him and move away, my thoughts turning to the young man in the village. My lover. My contact. My blackmailer. Hooper may have taken the fall for the missing component, but if it was his recovering it from Hut 2 then I have nothing to sell to save my reputation, if I have any left.
If he didn’t, of course, and Harris was telling the truth about his sudden confession, then I will be able to buy my freedom once and for all.
The blanket. Perfect. I scoop it up off the bed and hold it in place over the window. This should do it. Then I heft the bucket - this really is quite a fiddly thing to be doing, and I need far longer arms, especially in cuffs - and take a strong swing, trying to imagine it’s Harris’ face on the other side.
The sound of the impact is muffled. With my arm still covered, I sweep out the remaining glass in the frame. I’m ready to escape. The only trouble is - when they look in on me in the morning, there will be no question what has happened. It won’t help me one jot with shifting suspicion off my back.
“Quite right,” I answer smartly.
He stares back at me. “Let’s get straight to the point. Do you have the component?” Harris demands. “Do you know where it is?”
“Just adding to the drama,” I tell him, confidently. “I’m sure you can understand that.”
“I think we’ve had enough drama today already,” Harris replies. “Let’s hope for a clean kill.”
He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. I can only hope that Hooper bites on my baited hook. If he thinks I’m mad and bitter enough to have framed him somehow, and arrogant enough to have taunted him with a clue to where the damning evidence is hidden... if he hates me enough, and is paranoid enough, then he might unravel my little riddle and go searching around Hut 2.
Thinking back, I should have wrapped the part from the Bombe in one of his shirts before hiding it, that would have been a clever move. I really do make a terrible spy.
“Just adding to the drama,” I tell him, confidently. “I’m sure you can understand that.”
“I think we’ve had enough drama today already,” Harris replies. “Let’s hope for a clean kill.”
He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
I settle down to wait.
Night falls. The clockwork of the heavens keeps turning, whatever state I might be in. No-one can steal the components that make the sun go down and the stars come out. I watch it performing its operations. I can’t sleep.
There’s no time to lose. Throwing caution to the wind I make my way quickly to Hut 2, and around the back. I don’t think I’ve been followed, or seen but if I have, it’s too late. My actions are suspicious enough for anyone’s noose. I have no choice but to follow through.
The component is still there, wrapped in a tea-towel and shoved into a cavity in a breeze-block at the base of the Hut wall.
“Ask not for whom the bell tolls!”
He stares back at me, as if were a madman and perhaps for a split second I see him shudder.
The Captain comes outside, pulling the door to. “What’s this?” he asks. “A confession? Just like that?”
“No,” the Commander admits, in a low voice. “I’m afraid not. Rather more a scheme. The idea is to let Hooper go and see what he does. If he believes we have Manning here in irons, he’ll try to shift the component.”
“If he has it.”
“Indeed.”
The Captain peers at me for a moment, like I was some kind of curious insect.
“Sometimes, I think you people are magicians,” he remarks. “Other times you seem more like witches. Very well.”
With that he opens the door to the Hut and goes back inside. The Commander uses the moment to hustle me roughly forward.
“And what was all that shouting about?” he hisses in my ear as we move towards the barracks. “Are you trying to pull something? Or just make me look incompetent?”
“Please, Hooper. You don’t understand what’s at stake. They have information on me. What I’ve done. I don’t need to tell you what I’ve done, you know. I know you do. And I know you think it’s wrong, but please man, have a soul. They were going to ruin me. And the component - it’s nothing. It’s not the secret of the Bombe, or even of what we’re doing here. It’s just a part. The German’s think it’s a weapon - a missile component or a detonator. Let them have it! Please, man. Just help me.”
“Help you?” Hooper stares, as I have gone mad. “Help you? You’re a traitor, Iain. You’re a traitor. A snake in the grass. And you’re queer.”
“No, Harris. The young man wasn’t blackmailing me.” I take a deep breath. “It was Hooper.”
“Hooper!” Harris exclaims, in surprise.
“It’s the truth, Harris. If I’m going to jail, then so be it, but I won’t hang at Traitor’s Gate. Hooper was the one who told the boy about our work. Hooper put the boy on to me. I should have realised, of course. These things don’t happen by chance. I was a fool to think they might. And then, once he had me compromised, he demanded I steal the part from the machine.”
“Which you did.” Harris leans forward. “And then what? You still have it? You put it somewhere?”
I pause for a moment longer. It doesn’t do to be too careless...
Then the door locks turns. The door opens. Then Jeremy - one of the guards, rather - sticks his head through the door. “I thought I heard...”
He stops. Looks for a moment. Sees the bucket in my hand. Then without a moment’s further thought he blows his shrill whistles and hustles into the hut, grabbing me roughly by my arms.
I’ll never know if I hadn’t have waited that extra moment - maybe I still could have got away. But, how far?
I’m hustled into one of the huts. Nowhere to sleep, but they’re not interested in my comfort any longer. Harris comes in with the Captain.
“So,” Harris remarks. “Looks like your little trap worked. Only it worked to show you out for what you are.”
“For God’s sake, man, what do you have to lose?”
“We’ll be outside the door,” Harris replies, seriously. “The first sign of any funny business and we’ll have you both on the floor in minutes. You understand? The country needs your brain, but it’s not too worried about your legs. Remember that.”
Then he gets to his feet, and opens the door, and marches me out and across the yard. The evening is drawing in and there’s a chill in the air. My mind is racing. I have one opportunity here - a moment in which to put the fear of God into Hooper and make him do something foolish to place himself in harm’s way. But how to achieve it?
“You ready?” Harris demands.
“I suppose I do rather.” I laugh, but Harris does not.
“This damn business gets worse and worse,” he says, talking as he goes over to unlock and throw open the window. “Hooper’s confessed, you know.”
“Yes, I considered it. He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
I have no God to make peace with. I find it difficult to believe in goodness of any kind, in a world such as this.
But I am no traitor. At least, not to my country. To my sex, perhaps. But how could I support the Reich? If it were to come to power, I would be worse off than under the already dire circumstances of my existence.
I have no place here. No way to fit. I am the intercept - caught, in the middle, cryptic and understood only thinly, through devices and machines.
“Trust me. He hasn’t. If I know that man, and I do, he’ll have wanted to keep his options open as long as possible. If the component’s gone then he’s committed and he’ll be hung for what he’s done. He’ll want to wait a week at least, make sure he’s escaped suspicion. And then he’ll pass it on.”
“And if we keep applying pressure to him, you think the component will eventually just turn up?”
“That’s exactly it,” I say quietly. “Harris. You understand. There are some things... which can get a man into a lot of trouble. Things one shouldn’t do.”
Harris, to his credit, doesn’t stiffen. He doesn’t lean away, or remove his hands from the table-top as though my condition might be infectious. I thought they trained them in the army to shoot my kind on sight but he does not.
Of course, he does not offer any sympathy either. He only nods, once. The understanding that has passed between us here is a mere turning cog in his calculations, with no meaning or righteousness to it.
“I’ve seen the same story a hundred times before,” he says. “A young man like yourself - clever, somewhat removed from the world. The kind that doesn’t go to parties, you might say. Who takes himself a little too seriously, perhaps. Takes things too far. Further than a man should allow a thing to go. That’s the story, isn’t it? You took things too far, and then you couldn’t take them back. And now they have you.”
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
Morning comes. I’m woken by a rooster calling from the yard behind the House. I must have slept after all. I pull myself up from the bunk, shivering slightly. There is condensation on the inside of the window. I have probably given myself a chill.
The door handle turns and without knocking, Harris comes inside. “You’re up,” he remarks, and then, “You smell like an animal.”
“I always meant to tell you,” I tell him. “I thought perhaps I could find out who they were. Lead you to them.”
Harris looks at me with contempt. “You wretched little man. Don’t think your tongue will be able to get you out of trouble. You’re going to pay for what you’ve done, and you’re going to pay dearly. If a single man loses his life because of your pride and your perversions then God help your eternal soul. The fact is you committed a crime.” If I had any sense that he understood my predicament, and that he felt for my state of being, it collapses like a chain with a broken link. “You thought you could repair it with another, more serious crime?” He shakes his head. “I thought you men were supposed to be clever. But this is the action of a frightened woman. So I’d like you to tell me, now. Where is it?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
“I’d be happy to help,” I answer, sympathetically, leaning forward across the table. “I’m sure there’s something I could do.”
“Like what, exactly?”
“Only that this process is unreasonable, and I believe you’re behaving like a swine.”
“You imbecile,” Harris replies, with sudden force. He is half out of his chair. “You know the situation as well as I do, so why all this fencing? The Hun are poised like rats, ready to run all over this country. They’ll destroy everything, you do understand that, don’t you? You’re not so locked up inside your crossword puzzles that you don’t see that, are you? And this machine we have here - you men - you are the best and only hope this country has. God help her.”
I sit back, startled by the force of his outburst. His carefully sculpted expression has curled to angry disgust and there is spit flecking his lips. He really does hate me, I think. He’ll have my neck just for the taste of it.
“Yes. Probably under my bunk.”
Harris smiles wryly. “We’ll know that for a fake, then. We’ve looked there already. I don’t mind telling you, this is a disaster, this whole thing. What I want is to find that little bit of mechanical trickery anywhere. I don’t care where. In your luncheon box or under Hooper’s pillow, whatever. Just somewhere, and within the grounds of this place.”
I have a single moment to shout something to Hooper before the door closes.
“I’ll get you Hooper, you’ll see!” I cry. Then:
“I’m looking forward to having a wash and a change of clothes; which should make a little less evil to be around.”
“Very droll,” he replies. “Let me tell you what happened this morning, and see if it takes the smile off your face. Our men watching Hooper’s tent saw Hooper wake up, get dressed, clamber out of his tent and then remark with surprise as, while looking for his shoes, he stumbled on something just at the entrance of his tent.”
“Only that this process is unreasonable, and I believe you’re behaving like a swine.”
“You imbecile,” Harris replies, with sudden force. He is half out of his chair. “You know the situation as well as I do, so why all this fencing? The Hun are poised like rats, ready to run all over this country. They’ll destroy everything, you do understand that, don’t you? You’re not so locked up inside your crossword puzzles that you don’t see that, are you? And this machine we have here - you men - you are the best and only hope this country has. God help her.”
I sit back, startled by the force of his outburst. His carefully sculpted expression has curled to angry disgust and there is spit flecking his lips. He really does hate me, I think. He’ll have my neck just for the taste of it.
If I leave the component here somewhere it should be somewhere I can rely on Hooper finding it, but no-one before Hooper. In particular.
“I’m sure you’ve handled worse,” I reply casually, looking him straight in the eye.
His gaze is unexpressive: I’ve seen Harris broad and full of laughter, but today he is rigid, as much part of the military machine as the devices in Hut 5.
“There really isn’t any time to be wasted,” he says. “But you know why you’re here, of course.”
There’s no time to lose. Throwing caution to the wind I make my way quickly to Hut 2, and around the back. I don’t think I’ve been followed, or seen but if I have, it’s too late. My actions are suspicious enough for anyone’s noose. I have no choice but to follow through.
The component is still there, wrapped in a tea-towel and shoved into a cavity in a breeze-block at the base of the Hut wall.
I lean back. “It’s your problem. Your security breach. So much for your careful vetting process.” I lean back in my chair and fold my arms so the way they shake will not be visible. “You’d better get on with solving it, instead of wasting your time in here with me.”
Harris harrumphs. He’s thinking it all over.
“I don’t know.”
“You can do better than that. Remember, there’s a hangman’s noose waiting for traitors.”
Moving quickly and quietly, I hoist myself up onto the window-frame and worm my way outside into the freezing night air. Then I’m away, slipping down the paths between the Huts, sticking to the shadows, on my way to Hut 2.
The bunk has a solid metal frame, a blanket, a pillow, nothing more.
I have no God to make peace with. I find it difficult to believe in goodness of any kind, in a world such as this.
I have no place here. No way to fit. I am the intercept - caught, in the middle, cryptic and understood only thinly, through devices and machines.
I creep forward to the tent, intent on lifting the zip to the front porch area just a little - enough to slip the component inside, and without the risk of the noise waking Hooper from his snoring.
The work is careful, and more than little fiddly - Hooper has tied the zips down on the inside, the fastidious little bastard! - but after a little work I manage to make a hole large enough for my hand.
I go over to the window and try to jimmy it open. Not much luck, but in my struggling I notice this window only backs on the thin little brook that runs down the back of the compound. Which means, if I smashed it, I might get away with no-one seeing.
The bucket? Hardly. The bucket might do some good if I wanted to sweep up the glass afterwards, but it won’t help me smash the glass quietly.
“Perhaps Hooper had an accomplice. Someone else who works on site.”
Harris shakes his head, distractedly. “That doesn’t make sense,” he says. “Why go to all the trouble of stealing it only to give it back? And why like this?”
I peer out of the window, but it looks out onto the little brook at the back of the compound, with no view of the other huts or the House. Who knows if there are men up, searching the base of Hut 2, following one another with flashlights...
The night draws on at its own pace. I suppose by morning I will know my fate.
The bunk has a solid metal frame, a blanket, a pillow, nothing more.
“Very well. I see there’s no point in covering up. You know everything anyway.”
Harris nods, and waits for me to continue.
“There was a young man, Harris. I met him in the town. A few months ago now. We got to talking - not about work. I said I was an accountant for a firm, just as I was supposed to. Although he seemed to know that wasn’t true. That got me wondering if he wasn’t one of us.”
Harris is not letting me off any more. “You seriously considered that possibility?”
“He’s petty enough, certainly. He’s a creep.” I wipe a hand across my forehead. “All I can say is, ever since I arrived here, he’s been looking to ways to bring me down a peg. I wouldn’t be surprised if he set this whole affair up just to have me court-martialled.”
“We don’t court-martial civilians,” Harris replies. “Traitors are simply hung at her Majesty’s pleasure.”
“Ask the others,” I reply, leaning back. “They’ll tell you. If they haven’t already, that’s only because they’re protecting Hooper. Hoping he’ll come to his senses and stop being an idiot. I hope he does too. And if you lock him up in a freezing hut like you’ve done me, I’m sure he will.”
“We have,” Harris replies simply.
It’s all I can do not to gape.
“Hooper’s in Hut 3 with the Captain, having a similar conversation.”
“What could I do?” I’m shaking now. The night is cold and the heat-lamp in this hut has been removed, presumably to keep me alert and on edge. “I don’t want to go to prison.”
“You committed a crime,” Harris answers. If I had any sense that he understood my predicament, and that he felt for my state of being, it collapses like a chain with a broken link. “You thought you could repair it with another, more serious crime?” He shakes his head. “I thought you men were supposed to be clever. But this is the action of a frightened woman. So I’d like you to tell me, now. Where is it?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
“When you have eliminated the impossible...” I begin, but Harris cuts me off.
“We are left with two possibilities, quite clearly. You, or Hooper.” The Commander pauses to smooth down his moustache. “Hooper’s in Hut 3 with the Captain, having a similar conversation.”
“I broke it,” I reply. There doesn’t seem any use in trying to lie. “I thought I could escape. But I couldn’t get myself through.”
The Commander laughs. “Shame,” he remarks. “I should have left that window open and put a guard on you. Might have been interesting to see where you went. Anyway, I’m glad you’re still here, even if you do smell like a dog.”
“I saw Hooper take it.”
“I see.” He is starting to lose his temper - I can see it in the creases of his face. I have seen Harris angry a few times, with lackeys and secretaries and the like, usually over things sent late or incorrectly. But never with us. With the “brains” he has always been so cautious, treating us like children. And now I see that, like a father, he wants only to smack us when we disobey him. “I wish you’d stop with your deceptions and get to the truth, man. Every minute matters.”
“Really, Commander,” I reply. “It rather sounds like you want to spank me.”
“For God’s sake,” he declares with thick disgust, then swoops away out of the room. Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
“No. I passed it on to Hooper.”
“I see. And what did he do with it?”
“Queen to rook two, checkmate!” I call, then laugh viciously, as if I am damning him straight to hell.
I only catch Hooper’s reaction for a moment - his eyebrow lifts in surprise and alarm. Good. If he thinks it is a threat then he just might be careless enough to go looking for what it might mean.
The Captain comes outside, pulling the door to. “What’s this?” he asks. “A confession? Just like that?”
“No,” the Commander admits, in a low voice. “I’m afraid not. Rather more a scheme. The idea is to let Hooper go and see what he does. If he believes we have Manning here in irons, he’ll try to shift the component.”
“If he has it.”
“Indeed.”
The Captain peers at me for a moment, like I was some kind of curious insect.
“Sometimes, I think you people are magicians,” he remarks. “Other times you seem more like witches. Very well.”
With that he opens the door to the Hut and goes back inside. The Commander uses the moment to hustle me roughly forward.
“And what was all that shouting about?” he hisses in my ear as we move towards the barracks. “Are you trying to pull something? Or just make me look incompetent?”
“Yes, perhaps. But also to ensure your name goes down in the annals of mathematics. All you have to do is go to the back of Hut 2. There’s a breeze-block with a cavity. That’s where I’ve put it. I’ll be locked up overnight, I should think. But you can pick it up and pass it to my contact. He’ll be at the south fence around two AM.”
“If you think I’ll do that then you’re crazy,” Hooper replies.
At that moment the door flies open and the Captain comes storming back inside.
Harris hustles me over to the barracks. “I hope that’s the end of it,” he mutters as he pushes me up the steps.
“Just be sure to let him out,” I reply. “And then see where he goes.”
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
“An accident, naturally.” I risk a smile. “That damned machine, Harris; it’s made from spare parts and string. Even these huts leak when it rains. It wouldn’t take more than one fellow to trip over a cable to shake out a component and have it roll away across the floor. Have you tried looking under the thing?”
Harris doesn’t smile. “Do you suppose we haven’t? Do you supposed we haven’t combed every inch of this place already?”
In a sudden moment I understand that his reply is a threat.
“Now,” he continues. “Are you sure there isn’t anything you want to tell me?”
Next. To Hooper’s dorm. Time to wrap up this little game once and for all.
I creep around the outside of the Huts. All are quiet, steel-grey in the hazy moonlight; a few shining copper from arc-lamps strung from the trees. A few guards patrol the area at night but not many - after all, very few know this place even exists.
Our quarters are arranged away from the House; where we sleep is of less importance than where we work. We each have our own Hut, through some are less permanent than other’s. Hooper’s is a military issue tent: quite a large canopy, with two rooms inside and a short porch area where he insists people leave their shoes. It’s all zipped up for the night and no light shines from inside.
I hang back for a moment. If Harris is keeping to the terms of our deal then someone will be watching this place. But I can see no-one.
The bucket? Hardly. The bucket might do some good if I wanted to sweep up the glass afterwards, but it won’t help me smash the glass quietly.
“Oh, yes?”
“Yes. For what that’s worth. There’s still the issue of the component. It hasn’t turned up. He didn’t lead us to it. I guess he figured you must have had something on him. I don’t know.”
He looks quite put out by the whole affair. He is not the kind of man to deal well with ambiguities and probabilities, far preferred the clarity of fact and falsehood.
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
I go over to the window and try to jimmy it open. Not much luck, but in my struggling I notice this window only backs on the thin little brook that runs down the back of the compound. Which means, if I smashed it, I might get away with no-one seeing.
I have no God to make peace with. I find it difficult to believe in goodness of any kind, in a world such as this.
But I am no traitor. At least, not to my country. To my sex, perhaps. But how could I support the Reich? If it were to come to power, I would be worse off than under the already dire circumstances of my existence.
I have no place here. No way to fit. I am the intercept - caught, in the middle, cryptic and understood only thinly, through devices and machines.
“I can imagine how being surrounded by clever men is pretty threatening for you, Commander,” I reply with a sneer. “They don’t train you to think in the Armed Forces.”
“Talk,” Harris demands. “Talk, now. Tell me where you’ve hidden it or who you’ve passed it to. Or God help me, but I’ll take your wretched pansy body to pieces looking for it, do you understand me?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
“At the moment when the machine halted, Peterson and Jefferies were by the work-table, Collins and Humph were out having a smoke. I was by the front of the machine checking over the dip-switches. Hooper was the only one around the back of the Bombe. No-one else could have done it.”
“That’s not quite the same as seeing him do it,” Harris remarks.
The bucket? Hardly. The bucket might do some good if I wanted to sweep up the glass afterwards, but it won’t help me smash the glass quietly.
I settle down to wait.
Night falls. The clockwork of the heavens keeps turning, whatever state I might be in. No-one can steal the components that make the sun go down and the stars come out. I watch it performing its operations. I can’t sleep.
Has Hooper taken my bait?
I slide the component into the tent, work the zip closed, and move quickly away into the shadows. It takes a few minutes for my breath to slow, and my heart to stop hammering, but I see no other movement. If anyone is watching Hooper’s tent, they are asleep at their posts.
Satisfied, I return the short way up the paths between the huts to the barrack block and the broken window.
It’s a little harder getting back through - the window is higher off the ground than the floor inside - but after a decent bit of jumping and hauling I manage to get my elbows up, and then one leg, and finally I collapse inside, quite winded and out breath.
“Try me. Just me and him.”
“Alone?”
“Alone.”
Harris considers it. I watch his eyes, flicking backwards and forwards over mine, like a ribbon-reader trying to load in its program.
“That’s not important now. What matters is what you do, this evening. All you have to do is go to the back of Hut 2. There’s a breeze-block with a cavity. That’s where I’ve put it. I’ll be locked up overnight, I should think. But you can pick it up and pass it to my contact. He’ll be at the south fence around two AM.”
“If you think I’ll do that then you’re crazy,” Hooper replies.
At that moment the door flies open and the Captain comes storming back inside.
Harris hustles me over to the barracks. “I hope that’s the end of it,” he mutters as he pushes me up the steps.
“Just be sure to let him out,” I reply. “And then see where he goes.”
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
I pat down my pockets but all I’m carrying is the intercept, which is no good at all.
“I suppose so,” I reply. “I’ve certainly done things I regret. Things I shouldn’t have done.”
“I see,” Harris answers. “You’ve left yourself open. To pressure. Is that what you’re saying?”
If I leave the component here somewhere it should be somewhere I can rely on Hooper finding it, but no-one before Hooper. In particular.
“What could I do?” I’m shaking now. The night is cold and the heat-lamp in this hut has been removed, presumably to keep me alert and on edge. “I don’t want to go to prison.”
“You committed a crime,” Harris answers. If I had any sense that he understood my predicament, and that he felt for my state of being, it collapses like a chain with a broken link. “You thought you could repair it with another, more serious crime?” He shakes his head. “I thought you men were supposed to be clever. But this is the action of a frightened woman. So I’d like you to tell me, now. Where is it?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
“No. I passed it on to Hooper.”
“I see. And what did he do with it?”
I take the cup, and raise it to my lips, blowing away the steam. It is too hot to drink. He picks his own up and just holds it.
“Quite a difficult situation, this,” he begins, cautiously. I’ve seen him adopting this stiff tone of voice before, but only when talking to brass. “I’m sure you agree.”
I don’t take it. I’m not having my time wasted by signs and signals. I’ve been waiting here for long enough already, after being rudely pulled from my bunk. I touch a fingertip down on the table and look him in the eye.
“What’s going on, Harris?”
“Quite a difficult situation, this,” he begins, cautiously. I’ve seen him adopting this stiff tone of voice before, but only when talking to brass. “I’m sure you agree.”
“Yes. Probably under my bunk.”
Harris smiles wryly. “We’ll know that for a fake, then. We’ve looked there already. I don’t mind telling you, this is a disaster, this whole thing. What I want is to find that little bit of mechanical trickery anywhere. I don’t care where. In your luncheon box or under Hooper’s pillow, whatever. Just somewhere, and within the grounds of this place.”
I nod. “I don’t need twelve minutes. The missing component of the Bombe computer is hidden in a small cavity in a breeze-block supporting the left rear post of Hut 2. I put in there anticipating a search. I intended to pass it to Hooper once the fuss had died down. I suppose I was foolish to think that it might.”
“Indeed you were. And, Mr Manning: God help you if you’re lying to me.”
Harris stands, and slips away smartly. Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
I shift in my seat. “Not really. The boy was a simpleton, obviously. My intellectual inferior. His good opinion meant nothing to be. Harris, please do not misunderstand me. I was simply after his body.”
Harris, to his credit, doesn’t flinch. Well, perhaps not: but he’ll have nightmares of this moment tonight. I’m almost tempted to reach out and try to take his hand to worsen it for him, but I hold back.
“Go on with your confession,” he replies. I shrug.
“There’s not much else to say. I took the part from Bombe computing device. You seem to know that already. I had to. He was going to expose me if I didn’t.”
“This young man was blackmailing you over your affair?”
I shift in my seat. “Not really. The boy was a simpleton, obviously. My intellectual inferior. His good opinion meant nothing to be. Harris, please do not misunderstand me. I was simply after his body.”
Harris, to his credit, doesn’t flinch. Well, perhaps not: but he’ll have nightmares of this moment tonight. I’m almost tempted to reach out and try to take his hand to worsen it for him, but I hold back.
“Go on with your confession,” he replies. I shrug.
“There’s not much else to say. I took the part from Bombe computing device. You seem to know that already. I had to. He was going to expose me if I didn’t.”
“This young man was blackmailing you over your affair?”
“I don’t know what gives you the right to pick on me. Shouldn’t I have a lawyer?”
“This is time of war,” Harris answers. His tone of voice has fallen down into darkness. “And by God, if I have to shoot you to recover the component or stop it falling into the wrong hands, I will, do you understand me?”
There’s an icy silence. He’s angry at my slippery answers. He waves an impetuous hand across the field table.
“Now, drink your tea and talk.”
“I suppose I do rather.” I laugh, but Harris does not.
“This damn business gets worse and worse,” he says, talking as he goes over to unlock and throw open the window. “Hooper’s confessed, you know.”
“Yes, perhaps. But also to ensure your name goes down in the annals of mathematics. All you have to do is go to the back of Hut 2. There’s a breeze-block with a cavity. That’s where I’ve put it. I’ll be locked up overnight, I should think. But you can pick it up and pass it to my contact. He’ll be at the south fence around two AM.”
“If you think I’ll do that then you’re crazy,” Hooper replies.
At that moment the door flies open and the Captain comes storming back inside.
Harris hustles me over to the barracks. “I hope that’s the end of it,” he mutters as he pushes me up the steps.
“Just be sure to let him out,” I reply. “And then see where he goes.”
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
“So he’s an idiot, and he hid it in his shoe.”
“No,” Harris replies. “That isn’t really what I mean. I mean, he managed to find it, by accident, somewhere where it wasn’t the night before. And at the same time, you’re sitting here with your window broken. So, I rather think you’ve played your last hand and lost. There’s no way Hooper stole that component and then just left it lying around in the doorway of his tent. No way at all. So I came to tell you that the game is up for you.”
He nods and gets to his feet. Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
“What could I do?” I’m shaking now. The night is cold and the heat-lamp in this hut has been removed, presumably to keep me alert and on edge. “I don’t want to go to prison.”
“You committed a crime,” Harris answers. If I had any sense that he understood my predicament, and that he felt for my state of being, it collapses like a chain with a broken link. “You thought you could repair it with another, more serious crime?” He shakes his head. “I thought you men were supposed to be clever. But this is the action of a frightened woman. So I’d like you to tell me, now. Where is it?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
Making a wide circuit I creep around the tent. It has plenty of other flaps and openings, tied down with Gordian complexity. But nothing afford itself to slipping the component inside.
“I broke it,” I reply. There doesn’t seem any use in trying to lie. “I thought I could escape. But I couldn’t get myself through.”
The Commander laughs. “Shame,” he remarks. “I should have left that window open and put a guard on you. Might have been interesting to see where you went. Anyway, I’m glad you’re still here, even if you do smell like a dog.”
“No. Not for more than a moment, of course. Everyone here is marked out by how little we would be willing to say about it.”
“Only you told this young man more than a little, didn’t you?”
I nod. “He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
“I have, rather.” I put my hands into my pockets. “I seem to have done exactly that.”
“I’m afraid my little story about Hooper confessing wasn’t true. I wanted to see if you’d go to retrieve the part.” Harris gestures me to start walking. “You were close, Manning, I’ll give you that. I wanted to believe you. But I’m glad I didn’t.”
He leads me across the yard. Back towards Hut 5 to be decoded, and taken to pieces, once again.
“How should I know?” I reply, defensively. “All I can say is, ever since I arrived here, he’s been looking to ways to bring me down a peg. I wouldn’t be surprised if he set this whole affair up just to have me court-martialled.”
“We don’t court-martial civilians,” Harris replies. “Traitors are simply hung at her Majesty’s pleasure.”
“I don’t know.”
“You can do better than that. Remember, there’s a hangman’s noose waiting for traitors.”
“Yes, I considered it. He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
“It will. Hooper’s running scared,” I reply, hoping I sound more confident than I feel.
“I think we’ve had enough drama today already,” Harris replies. “Let’s hope for a clean kill.”
He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
“Please, Hooper. You don’t understand what’s at stake. They have information on me. What I’ve done. I don’t need to tell you what I’ve done, you know. I know you do. And I know you think it’s wrong, but please man, have a soul. They were going to ruin me. And the component - it’s nothing. It’s not the secret of the Bombe, or even of what we’re doing here. It’s just a part. The German’s think it’s a weapon - a missile component or a detonator. Let them have it! Please, man. Just help me.”
“Help you?” Hooper stares, as I have gone mad. “Help you? You’re a traitor, Iain. You’re a traitor. A snake in the grass. And you’re queer.”
I let him have his rant. He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. I can only hope that Hooper bites on my baited hook. If he thinks I’m mad and bitter enough to have framed him somehow, and arrogant enough to have taunted him with a clue to where the damning evidence is hidden... if he hates me enough, and is paranoid enough, then he might unravel my little riddle and go searching around Hut 2.
Thinking back, I should have wrapped the part from the Bombe in one of his shirts before hiding it, that would have been a clever move. I really do make a terrible spy.
I have a single moment to shout something to Hooper before the door closes.
“I’ll get you Hooper, you’ll see!” I cry. Then:
“Ask not for whom the bell tolls!”
He stares back at me, as if were a madman and perhaps for a split second I see him shudder.
The Captain comes outside, pulling the door to. “What’s this?” he asks. “A confession? Just like that?”
“No,” the Commander admits, in a low voice. “I’m afraid not. Rather more a scheme. The idea is to let Hooper go and see what he does. If he believes we have Manning here in irons, he’ll try to shift the component.”
“If he has it.”
“Indeed.”
The Captain peers at me for a moment, like I was some kind of curious insect.
“Sometimes, I think you people are magicians,” he remarks. “Other times you seem more like witches. Very well.”
With that he opens the door to the Hut and goes back inside. The Commander uses the moment to hustle me roughly forward.
“And what was all that shouting about?” he hisses in my ear as we move towards the barracks. “Are you trying to pull something? Or just make me look incompetent?”
Let me see. There’s the bunk, nothing else. I have my jacket but nothing in the pockets - no handkerchief, for instance.
“I was quite certain, after a while. After we’d been talking. He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
“No. Not for more than a moment, of course. Everyone here is marked out by how little we would be willing to say about it.”
“Only you told this young man more than a little, didn’t you?”
I nod. “He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
Work carefully? It’s difficult to work carefully when all one’s has is a bucket. It’s rather like the sledgehammer for the proverbial nut.
“It will. Hooper’s running scared,” I reply, hoping I sound more confident than I feel.
“I think we’ve had enough drama today already,” Harris replies. “Let’s hope for a clean kill.”
He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
“It’s not that bad. I can still fix it.”
Harris shakes his head. “This isn’t a problem to be cracked. This isn’t a puzzle. I’m sorry, but this is bigger than you now. Look. You can go to prison for what you’ve done, or we can change your identity and move you somewhere where your... indiscretions... can’t hurt anyone any more. But right now none of that matters. What happens to you, doesn’t matter. All that matters is where that component is. So I’d like you to tell me, now. Where is it?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
In case I’m being followed, I divert around the perimeter of the compound. It’s a much longer path, and it takes me across some terrain that’s difficult to negotiate in the dark - muddy, and thick with thistles and nestles.
Still, I can be confident no-one is following, as I hear nothing. I crouch down behind the rear wall of Hut 2. The component is still there, wrapped in a tea-towel and shoved into a cavity in a breeze-block at the base of the Hut wall.
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
“I know nothing about it.” My voice is shaking with anger as I try to speak. I’m not accustomed to facing off against the Commander - against any man with a gun in his holster. “I don’t know what gives you the right to pick on me. I demand a lawyer.”
“This is time of war,” Harris answers. His tone of voice has fallen down into darkness. “And by God, if I have to shoot you to recover the component or stop it falling into the wrong hands, I will, do you understand me?”
There’s an icy silence. He’s angry at my slippery answers. He waves an impetuous hand across the field table.
“Now, drink your tea and talk.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Hooper’s been taken away. They caught him, uncovering that missing Bombe component from a hiding place somewhere, apparently about to take it to his contact.” Russell harrumphs. “Quince was saying this morning, apparently his grandfather was German. So perhaps it’s to be expected. See you there?”
I wave to him and move away, my thoughts turning to the young man in the village. My lover. My contact. My blackmailer. Hooper may have taken the fall for the missing component, but if it was his recovering it from Hut 2 then I have nothing to sell to save my reputation.
If he didn’t, of course, and Harris was telling the truth about his sudden confession, then I will be able to buy my freedom once and for all.
“Perhaps the accomplice thought it was Hooper being kept in here. Maybe they saw the guard...”
“This is all too far-fetched,” Harris says. “I’m glad to have this back, but I need to think.”
Getting to his feet, he nods once. “You’ll have to wait a little longer, I’m afraid, Manning.”
Then he steps out of the door, muttering to himself.
“I don’t think Hooper could have planned this in advance. So he’d need to get word to whoever he’s working with, and that would take time. So I think he would have hidden it somewhere, and be waiting to make sure I soundly take the fall. That way, if anything goes wrong, he can arrange for the part to be conveniently re-found.”
“Makes sense,” Harris agrees, cautiously. I can see he’s still not certain whether he can trust me. “Which means the question is, what can we do to rat him out?”
The bucket? Hardly. The bucket might do some good if I wanted to sweep up the glass afterwards, but it won’t help me smash the glass quietly.
I pat down my pockets but all I’m carrying is the intercept, which is no good at all.
“I was quite certain, after a while. After we’d been talking. He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
I have no God to make peace with. I find it difficult to believe in goodness of any kind, in a world such as this.
But I am no traitor. At least, not to my country. To my sex, perhaps. But how could I support the Reich? If it were to come to power, I would be worse off than under the already dire circumstances of my existence.
I have no place here. No way to fit. I am the intercept - caught, in the middle, cryptic and understood only thinly, through devices and machines.
“It’s your problem. Your security breach. So much for your careful vetting process.” I lean back in my chair and fold my arms so the way they shake will not be visible. “You’d better get on with solving it, instead of wasting your time in here with me.”
Harris harrumphs. He’s thinking it all over.
“I’m looking forward to a long bath,” I reply. “And getting back to work.”
“Well, I’m afraid it is going to get worse for you,” Harris replies soberly. “We followed Hooper, and he took himself neatly to bed and slept like a boy scout. Which puts us back to square one, and you firmly in the frame. And I’m afraid I don’t have time for any more games. I want you to tell me where that component is, or we will hang you as a traitor.”
He passes a hand across his eyes with a long look of despair.
“I’m going to go outside and organise a rope. That’ll take about twelve minutes. That’s how long you have to decide.”
I put my ear down to the keyhole, but there’s nothing now. Probably still a guard outside, of course, but they’re keeping mum.
I put my ear down to the keyhole, but there’s nothing now. Probably still a guard outside, of course, but they’re keeping mum.
Work carefully? It’s difficult to work carefully when all one’s has is a bucket. It’s rather like the sledgehammer for the proverbial nut.
“Yes, I considered it. He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
“I don’t know what gives you the right to pick on me. I demand a lawyer.”
“This is time of war,” Harris answers. His tone of voice has fallen down into darkness. “And by God, if I have to shoot you to recover the component or stop it falling into the wrong hands, I will, do you understand me?”
There’s an icy silence. He’s angry. He waves an impetuous hand across the field table.
“Now, drink your tea and talk.”
“I saw Hooper take it.”
“Did you?” The worst of his rage is passing; he is now moving into a kind of contemptuous despair. I can imagine him wrapping up our interview soon, leaving the hut, locking the door, and dropping the key down the well in the yard. And why wouldn’t he? With my name tarnished they will not let me back to work on the Bombe - if there is the slightest smell of treachery about my name I would be lucky not be locked up for the remainder of the war. “I wish you’d stop with your deceptions and get to the truth, man. Every minute matters.”
“Very well. I see there’s no point in covering up. You know everything anyway.”
Harris nods, and waits for me to continue.
“There was a young man, Harris. I met him in the town. A few months ago now. We got to talking - not about work, you understand. I said I was an accountant for a firm, just as I was supposed to. Although he seemed to know that wasn’t true. That got me wondering if he wasn’t one of us.”
Harris is not letting me off any more. “You seriously considered that possibility?”
“Please, Hooper. You don’t understand what’s at stake. They have information on me. What I’ve done. I don’t need to tell you what I’ve done, you know. I know you do. And I know you think it’s wrong, but please man, have a soul. They were going to ruin me. And the component - it’s nothing. It’s not the secret of the Bombe, or even of what we’re doing here. It’s just a part. The German’s think it’s a weapon - a missile component or a detonator. Let them have it! Please, man. Just help me.”
“Help you?” Hooper stares, as I have gone mad. “Help you? You’re a traitor, Iain. You’re a traitor. A snake in the grass. And you’re queer.”
“I saw him take it,” I reply, stubbornly. “Collins and Humph were outside having a cigarette, I think. The other two men were at the table. But I was at the front of the machine. I saw Hooper go around the side, and lean down, and pull something free. I even challenged him on it. I said, ‘What’s that? Someone put a nail through somewhere they shouldn’t have?’ He didn’t reply.”
“We are left with two possibilities, quite clearly. You, or Hooper.” The Commander pauses to smooth down his moustache. “Hooper’s in Hut 3 with the Captain, having a similar conversation.”
I pause to glance around, and catch a glimpse of movement. Someone ducking around the corner of the hut. Or a canvas sheet flapping in the light breeze. Impossible to be sure.
“I don’t think Hooper could have planned this in advance. So he’d need to get word to whoever he’s working with, and that would take time. So I think he would have hidden it somewhere, and be waiting to make sure I soundly take the fall. That way, if anything goes wrong, he can arrange for the part to be conveniently re-found.”
“Makes sense,” Harris agrees, cautiously. I can see he’s still not entirely convinced by my tale, as well he might not be - I’ve hardly been entirely straight with him. “Which means the question is, what can we do to rat him out?”
“I suppose so,” I reply. “I’ve certainly done things I regret. Things I shouldn’t have done.”
“I see,” Harris answers. “You’ve left yourself open. To pressure. Is that what you’re saying?”
No, I am content. I suppose I do not believe they will hang me. They will lock me up and continue to use my brain, if they can. I wonder what they will tell the world - perhaps that I have taken my own life. That would be simplest. The few who know me would believe it.
Well, then. Not a bad existence, in prison. Removed from temptation. A kind of imposed monasticism, with plenty more problems to solve, and more mysteries to fathom.
I wonder what else I might yet unravel before I’m done?
“I was quite certain, after a while. After we’d been talking. He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
I shake my head violently, to say no, that’s not it, but whatever is wrong with tongue is wrong with neck too. I look across at the table at Harris’ face and realise with a start how sympathetic he is. Such a kind, generous man. How can I hold anything back from him?
I take another mouthful of the bitter, strange-tasting tea before answering.
“That’s exactly it,” I say quietly. “Harris. You understand. There are some things... which can get a man into a lot of trouble. Things one shouldn’t do.”
Harris, to his credit, doesn’t stiffen. He doesn’t lean away, or remove his hands from the table-top as though my condition might be infectious. I thought they trained them in the army to shoot my kind on sight but he does not.
Of course, he does not offer any sympathy either. He only nods, once. The understanding that has passed between us here is a mere turning cog in his calculations, with no meaning or righteousness to it.
“I’ve seen the same story a hundred times before,” he says. “A young man like yourself - clever, somewhat removed from the world. The kind that doesn’t go to parties, you might say. Who takes himself a little too seriously, perhaps. Takes things too far. Further than a man should allow a thing to go. That’s the story, isn’t it? You took things too far, and then you couldn’t take them back. And now they have you.”
“No.”
“Too bad.” Harris opens the door and pushes me inside. “Captain,” he calls. “Could I have a moment?”
The Captain, looking puzzled, steps out. The door is closed. Hooper stares at me, open-mouthed, about to say something. I probably have less than a minute before the Captain storms back in and declares this plan to be bunkum.
“Damn right I’m sore. Was it one of the others who put you up to this? Was it Hooper? He’s always been jealous of me. He’s...”
The Commander moustache bristles as he purses his lips. “Has he now? Of your achievements, do you think?” It’s difficult not to shake the sense that he’s mocking me. “Or of your brain? Or something else?”
“Heard what?”
“Hooper’s been taken away. They caught him, uncovering that missing Bombe component from a hiding place somewhere, apparently about to take it to his contact.” Russell harrumphs. “Quince was saying this morning, apparently his grandfather was German. So perhaps it’s to be expected. See you there?”
I wave to him and move away, my thoughts turning to the young man in the village. My lover. My contact. My blackmailer. Hooper may have taken the fall for the missing component, but if it was his recovering it from Hut 2 then I have nothing to sell to save my reputation.
If he didn’t, of course, and Harris was telling the truth about his sudden confession, then I will be able to buy my freedom once and for all.
“No,” Harris declares, finally. “I think you’re lying about Hooper. I think you’re a clever, scheming young man - that’s why we hired you - and you’re looking for the only reasonable out this situation has to offer. But I’m not taking it. We know you were in the room with the machine, we know you’re of a perverted persuasion, we know you have compromised yourself. There’s nothing more to say here. Either you tell me what you’ve done with that component, or we will hang you and search just as hard. It’s your choice.”
He gets to his feet, and gathers his gloves from the table top.
“I’m going to go outside and organise a rope. That’ll take about twelve minutes. That’s how long you have to decide.”
The bunk has a solid metal frame, a blanket, a pillow, nothing more.
I have a single moment to shout something to Hooper before the door closes.
“I’ll get you Hooper, you’ll see!” I cry. Then:
“No. Not for more than a moment, of course. Everyone here is marked out by how little we would be willing to say about it.”
“Only you told this young man more than a little, didn’t you?”
I nod. “He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
“I wouldn’t put it past him. He’s a creep.” I wipe a hand across my forehead. “All I can say is, ever since I arrived here, he’s been looking to ways to bring me down a peg. I wouldn’t be surprised if he set this whole affair up just to have me court-martialled.”
“We don’t court-martial civilians,” Harris replies. “Traitors are simply hung at her Majesty’s pleasure.”
“I’ve thought so before.”
“Let me tell you what happened this morning. Our men watching Hooper’s tent saw Hooper wake up, get dressed, clamber out of his tent and then remark with surprise as, while looking for his shoes, he stumbled on something just at the entrance of his tent.”
Enough of this. There isn’t any time to lose. Right now they’ll be following Hooper as he goes to bed, and goes to sleep; and then that’s it. The minute he closes his eyelids and drifts off that’s the moment that this trap swings shut on me.
So I punch out the glass with my shoe and it shatters with a terrific noise. Then I stop, and wait, to see if anyone will come in through the door.
Nothing.
Let me see. There’s the bunk, a bucket, nothing else. I have my jacket but nothing in the pockets - no handkerchief, for instance.
With my jacket wrapped round my arm, I sweep out the remaining shards of glass. It’s not a big window, but I’m not a big man. If I was Harris, I’d be stuffed, but as it is...
Then the door locks turns. The door opens. Then Jeremy - one of the guards, rather - sticks his head through the door. “I thought I heard...”
He stops. Looks for a moment. Sees the bucket in my hand. Then without a moment’s further thought he blows his shrill whistles and hustles into the hut, grabbing me roughly by my arms.
I’m hustled into one of the huts. Nowhere to sleep, but they’re not interested in my comfort any longer. Harris comes in with the Captain.
“So,” Harris remarks. “Looks like your little trap worked. Only it worked to show you out for what you are.”
I pat down my pockets but all I’m carrying is the intercept, which is no good at all.
“I suppose I do rather.” I laugh, but Harris does not.
“This damn business gets worse and worse,” he says, talking as he goes over to unlock and throw open the window. “Hooper’s confessed, you know.”
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
I put my ear down to the keyhole, but there’s nothing now. Probably still a guard outside, of course, but they’re keeping mum.
“Explain what you should be doing, do you mean, rather than bullying me? Certainly.” I fold my arms. “I know where your component is because it’s obvious where your component is. That doesn’t mean I took it, just because I can figure out a simple problem, any more than it means I’m a German spy because I can crack their codes.”
“Tell me, then,” he asks. “What’s your theory? You’re a smart fellow - as smart as they come around here, and that’s saying something. What’s your opinion on the missing component? Accident, perhaps? Or do you blame one of the other men?”
“I’m looking forward to a long bath,” I reply. “And getting back to work.”
“Well, I’m afraid it is going to get worse for you,” Harris replies soberly. “We followed Hooper, and he took himself neatly to bed and slept like a boy scout. Which puts us back to square one, and you firmly in the frame. And I’m afraid I don’t have time for any more games. I want you to tell me where that component is, or we will hang you as a traitor.”
He passes a hand across his eyes with a long look of despair.
“I’m going to go outside and organise a rope. That’ll take about twelve minutes. That’s how long you have to decide.”
“How should I know?” I reply, defensively. “All I can say is, ever since I arrived here, he’s been looking to ways to bring me down a peg. I wouldn’t be surprised if he set this whole affair up just to have me court-martialled.”
“We don’t court-martial civilians,” Harris replies. “Traitors are simply hung at her Majesty’s pleasure.”
I go over to the window and try to jimmy it open. Not much luck, but in my struggling I notice this window only backs on the thin little brook that runs down the back of the compound. Which means, if I smashed it, I might get away with no-one seeing.
From outside, I hear a voice. Hooper’s. He’s haranguing someone, for something.
Morning comes slowly, but I must fall asleep at some point, because the next thing I know the rooster is calling and a cool, fresh breeze is blowing through the open window. I barely have time to wipe the sleep from my eyes and brush myself down before the door opens and Harris enters.
He takes one look around, and sighs, a deep, wistful sigh.
“Things just get worse and worse for you, Manning,” he remarks. “You are your own worst enemy.”
“I suppose so,” I reply. “I’ve certainly done things I regret. Things I shouldn’t have done.”
“I see,” Harris answers. “You’ve left yourself open. To pressure. Is that what you’re saying?”
“At the moment when the machine halted, Peterson and Jefferies were by the work-table, Collins and Humph were out having a smoke. I was by the front of the machine checking over the dip-switches. Hooper was the only one around the back of the Bombe. No-one else could have done it.”
“That’s not quite the same as seeing him do it,” Harris remarks.
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
“Tell Hooper I’ve confessed. In fact, better yet, let him see you march me off in handcuffs. Then let him go, and watch him. Ten to one he’ll go straight to wherever he’s hidden that component and his game will be up.”
Harris nods slowly, chewing over the idea. It isn’t a bad plan even - except, of course, Hooper has not hidden the component, and won’t lead them anywhere. But that’s a problem I might be able to solve once I’m out of this place; and once they’re busy, dogging Hooper’s steps from hut to hut.
“It’s an interesting idea,” the Commander muses. “But I’m not so sure he’ll be that stupid. And if he’s already passed the part on, well, the whole thing will only be a waste of time.”
“I’m no traitor, damn it. You know I’m not. How much work have I done here? Against the Germans? Cracking their codes? Understanding their secrets? I’ve given it my all! And you know as well as I do, if the Reich were to invade, I would be a dead man for being what I am. So please, Hooper. I’m not doing any of this lightly. But I’m in a jam!”
“Assuming I wanted to help you,” he replies, carefully. “Which I don’t. What would I do?”
“Nothing. Almost nothing.
All you have to do is go to the back of Hut 2. There’s a breeze-block with a cavity. That’s where I’ve put it. I’ll be locked up overnight, I should think. But you can pick it up and pass it to my contact. He’ll be at the south fence around two AM."
“If you think I’ll do that then you’re crazy,” Hooper replies.
At that moment the door flies open and the Captain comes storming back inside.
Harris hustles me over to the barracks. “I hope that’s the end of it,” he mutters as he pushes me up the steps.
“Just be sure to let him out,” I reply. “And then see where he goes.”
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
“You mean he confessed of his own accord? You didn’t catch him?”
“The Captain went back into that hut and he confessed immediately. We were so surprised we didn’t let you go.” He wrinkles his nose. “I’m rather sorry about that now, but I suppose we’ll let you go know. I suggest you have a wash.”
And with that he gestures to the doorway.
I creep forward to the tent, intent on lifting the zip to the front porch area just a little - enough to slip the component inside, and without the risk of the noise waking Hooper from his snoring.
The work is careful, and more than little fiddly - Hooper has tied the zips down on the inside, the fastidious little bastard! - but after a little work I manage to make a hole large enough for my hand.
“All right. All right. That’s exactly what happened.”
“Shame,” he remarks. “I should have left that window open and put a guard on you. Might have been interesting to see where you went. Anyway, I’m glad you’re still here, even if you do smell like a dog.”
I slide the component into the tent, work the zip closed, and move quickly away into the shadows. It takes a few minutes for my breath to slow, and my heart to stop hammering, but I see no other movement. If anyone is watching Hooper’s tent, they are asleep at their posts.
Satisfied, I return the short way up the paths between the huts to the barrack block and the broken window.
It’s a little harder getting back through - the window is higher off the ground than the floor inside - but after a decent bit of jumping and hauling I manage to get my elbows up, and then one leg, and finally I collapse inside, quite winded and out breath.
“We’ll fool him. He’s waiting to be sure that I’ve been strung up for this, so let’s give him what he wants. If he sees me taken away, clapped in irons - he’ll go straight to that component and set about getting rid of it.”
Harris gets to his feet. “All right,” he says. “I should no better than to trust a clever man, but we’ll give it a go.” Then, he smiles, with all his teeth, like a wolf. “Hooper’s in Hut 3 being debriefed by the Captain. Let’s see if we can’t get his attention somehow.”
He raps on the door for the guard and gives the man a quick instruction. He returns a moment later with a cool pair of iron cuffs.
“Put ‘em up,” Harris instructs, and I do so. The metal closes around my wrists like a trap. I stand and follow Harris willingly out through the door.
But whatever I’m doing with my body, my mind is scheming. Somehow, I’m thinking, I have to get away from these men long enough to get that component behind Hut 2 and put it somewhere Hooper will go. Or, otherwise, somehow get Hooper to go there himself...
Harris marches me over to Hut 3, and gestures for the guard to stand aside. Pushing me forward, he opens the door nice and wide.
“Captain. Manning talked. If you’d step out for a moment?”
“Then I’ll be going, on and getting on with my job of saving her, shall I?” I even rise half to my feet, before he slams the tabletop.
“Talk,” Harris demands. “Talk, now. Tell me where you’ve hidden it or who you’ve passed it to. Or God help me, but I’ll take your wretched pansy body to pieces looking for it, do you understand me?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
That is Harris returning. Our little computation here is complete.
That is the true secret of the calculating engine, and the source of its power: not in the components themselves, but in how they are wired together. The diversity of patterns and structures they can form. Much like people - it is how they connect that determines our victories and tragedies, and not their genius.
Which makes me wonder. Should I give up my beautiful young man to them as well as myself?
I wave cheerily back and she giggles, almost drops her bicycle, then dashes away inside the House. Judging by the clock on the front gable, she’s running a little late this morning.
I turn the corner of Hut 3 and walk down the short gravel path to Hut 2. It was a good spot to choose - Hut 2 is where the electricians work, and they’re generally focussed on what they’re doing. They don’t often come outside to smoke a cigarette so it’s easy to slip past the doorway unnoticed.
I shake my head violently, to say no, that’s not it, but whatever is wrong with tongue is wrong with neck too. I look across at the table at Harris’ face and realise with a start how sympathetic he is. Such a kind, generous man. How can I hold anything back from him?
I take another mouthful of the bitter, strange-tasting tea before answering.
“That’s exactly it,” I say quietly. “Harris. You understand. There are some things... which can get a man into a lot of trouble. Things one shouldn’t do.”
Harris, to his credit, doesn’t stiffen. He doesn’t lean away, or remove his hands from the table-top as though my condition might be infectious. I thought they trained them in the army to shoot my kind on sight but he does not.
Of course, he does not offer any sympathy either. He only nods, once. The understanding that has passed between us here is a mere turning cog in his calculations, with no meaning or righteousness to it.
“I’ve seen the same story a hundred times before,” he says. “A young man like yourself - clever, somewhat removed from the world. The kind that doesn’t go to parties, you might say. Who takes himself a little too seriously, perhaps. Takes things too far. Further than a man should allow a thing to go. That’s the story, isn’t it? You took things too far, and then you couldn’t take them back. And now they have you.”
I see. Perhaps you think I bullied the man into giving himself up. Perhaps he understood my little clue far enough to know it was a threat against him, but not well enough to understand where he should look to find it. So he took the easy route out and folded. Gave me the hand.
Hardly sporting, is that it?
“I’m not trying to do anything except save my neck.”
“Let’s hope things work out,” Harris agrees darkly.
He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
“You mean he didn’t even hide it? Just put it in his shoe?”
“No,” Harris replies. “That isn’t really what I mean. I mean, he managed to find it, by accident, somewhere where it wasn’t the night before. And at the same time, you’re sitting here with your window broken. So, I rather think you’ve played your last hand and lost. There’s no way Hooper stole that component and then just left it lying around in the doorway of his tent. No way at all. So I came to tell you that the game is up for you.”
He nods and gets to his feet. Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
“Well, then,” I answer, nervously. “What would he do? Either get rid of it straight away - or if that wasn’t possible, which it probably wouldn’t be, since he’d have to arrange things with his contacts - so most likely, he’d hide it somewhere and wait, until you had the rope around my neck and he could be sure he was safe.”
“Makes sense,” Harris agrees, cautiously. I can see he’s still not certain whether he can trust me. “Which means the question is, what can we do to rat him out?”
Let me see. There’s the bunk, nothing else. I have my jacket but nothing in the pockets - no handkerchief, for instance.
I toss the component away into the bushes behind Hooper’s tent and return to my barrack, wishing myself a long sleep followed by a morning, free of this business.
Satisfied, I return the short way up the paths between the huts to the barrack block and the broken window.
It’s a little harder getting back through - the window is higher off the ground than the floor inside - but after a decent bit of jumping and hauling I manage to get my elbows up, and then one leg, and finally I collapse inside, quite winded and out breath.
“It doesn’t matter. Just remember what I said. I’ve beaten you, Hooper. Remember that.”
I get to my feet and open the door of the Hut. The Captain storms back inside and I’m quickly thrown out. Harris hustles me over to the barracks. “I hope that’s the end of it,” he mutters as he pushes me up the steps.
“Just be sure to let him out,” I reply. “And then see where he goes.”
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. Thinking back, I should have wrapped the part from the Bombe in one of his shirts before hiding it, that would have been a clever move. I really do make a terrible spy.
Making a wide circuit I creep around the tent. It has plenty of other flaps and openings, tied down with Gordian complexity. But nothing afford itself to slipping the component inside.
“Yes. Something like that. It’s a very lonely life otherwise. And the work we do - well. It only makes it worse. There’s barely a moment to oneself.”
“That’s how it is in the Service,” Harris answers. “I know you didn’t sign up for it but, well. There’s plenty of other men who didn’t who are serving now, too. Now, go on with your confession.”
That gives me pause, for a moment. I hadn’t thought of it as such. But I suppose that’s what this is. I am about to admit what I did, after all.
“There’s not much else to say. I took the part from Bombe computing device. You seem to know that already. I had to. He was going to expose me if I didn’t.”
“This young man was blackmailing you over your affair?”
“Trust me. He hasn’t. If I know that man, and I do, he’ll have wanted to keep his options open as long as possible. If the component’s gone then he’s committed and he’ll be hung for what he’s done. He’ll want to wait a week at least, make sure he’s escaped suspicion. And then he’ll pass it on.”
“And if we keep applying pressure to him, you think the component will eventually just turn up?”
“Maybe I can help with that.”
“Oh, yes? And how, exactly?”
“We’re still in ear-shot if they let Hooper go. Best get us inside and then we can talk, if we must.”
“I’ve had enough of your voice for one day,” Harris replies grimly. He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
“It’s not that bad. I can still fix it.”
Harris shakes his head. “This isn’t a problem to be cracked. This isn’t a puzzle. I’m sorry, but this is bigger than you now. Look. You can go to prison for what you’ve done, or we can change your identity and move you somewhere where your... indiscretions... can’t hurt anyone any more. But right now none of that matters. What happens to you, doesn’t matter. All that matters is where that component is. So I’d like you to tell me, now. Where is it?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
Morning comes slowly, but I must fall asleep at some point, because the next thing I know the rooster is calling and a cool, fresh breeze is blowing through the open window. I barely have time to wipe the sleep from my eyes and brush myself down before the door opens and Harris enters.
He takes one look around, and sighs, a deep, wistful sigh.
“Things just get worse and worse for you, Manning,” he remarks. “You are your own worst enemy.”
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
I peer out of the window, but it looks out onto the little brook at the back of the compound, with no view of the other huts or the House. Who knows if there are men up, searching the base of Hut 2, following one another with flashlights...
The night draws on at its own pace. I suppose by morning I will know my fate.
“I don’t know what gives you the right to pick on me. I demand a lawyer.”
“This is time of war,” Harris answers. His tone of voice has fallen down into darkness. “And by God, if I have to shoot you to recover the component or stop it falling into the wrong hands, I will, do you understand me?”
There’s an icy silence. I’ve cracked him a little at least. He’s angry at my slippery answers. He waves an impetuous hand across the field table.
“Now, drink your tea and talk.”
Making a wide circuit I creep around the tent. It has plenty of other flaps and openings, tied down with Gordian complexity. But nothing afford itself to slipping the component inside.
Work carefully? It’s difficult to work carefully when all one’s has is a shoe.
“You mean he didn’t even hide it? Just put it in his shoe?”
“No,” Harris replies. “That isn’t really what I mean. I mean, he managed to find it, by accident, somewhere where it wasn’t the night before. And at the same time, you’re sitting here with your window broken. So, I rather think you’ve played your last hand and lost. There’s no way Hooper stole that component and then just left it lying around in the doorway of his tent. No way at all. So I came to tell you that the game is up for you.”
He nods and gets to his feet. Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
I go over to the window and try to jimmy it open. Not much luck, but in my struggling I notice this window only backs on the thin little brook that runs down the back of the compound. Which means, if I smashed it, I might get away with no-one seeing.
From outside, I hear a voice. Hooper’s. He’s haranguing someone, for something.
The window is my only way out of here. I just need a way to smash it.
The rest of the night passes slowly. I sleep a little, dozing mostly. Then I’m woken by the rooster in the yard. The door opens, and Harris comes in. He takes one look at the broken window and frowns with puzzlement.
“What happened there?”
I shift in my seat. “Not really. The boy was a simpleton, obviously. My intellectual inferior. His good opinion meant nothing to be. Harris, please do not misunderstand me. I was simply after his body.”
Harris, to his credit, doesn’t flinch. Well, perhaps not: but he’ll have nightmares of this moment tonight. I’m almost tempted to reach out and try to take his hand to worsen it for him, but I hold back.
“Go on with your confession,” he replies. I shrug.
“There’s not much else to say. I took the part from Bombe computing device. You seem to know that already. I had to. He was going to expose me if I didn’t.”
“This young man was blackmailing you over your affair?”
“All right,” he declares, gruffly. “We’ll try it. But if this doesn’t work, I might just put the both of you in front of a firing squad and be done with these games. Worse things happen in time of war, you know.”
“Alone,” I add.
“Alone?”
“Alone.”
Harris considers it. I watch his eyes, flicking backwards and forwards over mine, like a ribbon-reader trying to load in its program.
Let me see. There’s the bunk, a bucket, nothing else. I have my jacket but nothing in the pockets - no handkerchief, for instance.
“So would you,” I reply tartly. Harris raises an eyebrow.
“I’ve been through worse than this,” he replies matter-of-factly. “It’s hardly my fault if you sleep in your clothes.”
I glare back at him.
He goes over to the window, unlocks it and throws it open, relishing the fresh air from outside. “Hooper’s confessed, you know.”
Morning comes slowly, but I must fall asleep at some point, because the next thing I know the rooster is calling and a cool, fresh breeze is blowing through the open window. I barely have time to wipe the sleep from my eyes and brush myself down before the door opens and Harris enters.
He takes one look around, and sighs, a deep, wistful sigh.
“Things just get worse and worse for you, Manning,” he remarks. “You are your own worst enemy.”
“I can’t remember.”
He draws his gun and lays it lightly on the field table.
“I’m sorry to threaten you, friend. But His Majesty needs that brain of yours, and that brain alone. There are plenty of other parts to you that our country could do better without. Now I’ll ask you again. Did you hide the component?”
“I’ve thought so before.” Certainly in the matter of getting blackmailed.
“Let me tell you what happened this morning. Our men watching Hooper’s tent saw Hooper wake up, get dressed, clamber out of his tent and then remark with surprise as, while looking for his shoes, he stumbled on something just at the entrance of his tent.”
“No. It’s not treason. It’s a trade, plain and simple.”
“If you think I’ll do that then you’re crazy,” Hooper replies.
At that moment the door flies open and the Captain comes storming back inside.
Harris hustles me over to the barracks. “I hope that’s the end of it,” he mutters as he pushes me up the steps.
“Just be sure to let him out,” I reply. “And then see where he goes.”
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
I leave the cup exactly where it is. “Why?” I ask coldly. “What’s in it?”
“Lapsang Souchong,” he remarks, placing his own cup down on the table with a clink. “Such a curious flavour. It might almost not be tea at all. You might say it hides a multitude of sins. As do you, isn’t that correct?”
“Damn right I’m sore. Was it one of the others who put you up to this? Was it Hooper? He’s always been jealous of me. He’s...”
The Commander moustache bristles as he purses his lips. “Has he now? Of your achievements, do you think?” It’s difficult not to shake the sense that he’s mocking me. “Or of your brain? Or something else?”
“No.”
“Too bad.” Harris opens the door and pushes me inside. “Captain,” he calls. “Could I have a moment?”
The Captain, looking puzzled, steps out. The door is closed. Hooper stares at me, open-mouthed, about to say something. I probably have less than a minute before the Captain storms back in and declares this plan to be bunkum.
“I saw Hooper take it.”
“Did you?” The worst of his rage is passing; he is now moving into a kind of contemptuous despair. I can imagine him wrapping up our interview soon, leaving the hut, locking the door, and dropping the key down the well in the yard. And why wouldn’t he? With my name tarnished they will not let me back to work on the Bombe - if there is the slightest smell of treachery about my name I would be lucky not be locked up for the remainder of the war. “I wish you’d stop with your deceptions and get to the truth, man. Every minute matters.”
“Or be thrown into the river.”
“Hmm.” Harris chews his moustache thoughtfully. “Well, that would put us in a spot, seeing as how we’d never know for certain. We’d have to be ready to change our whole approach just in case the part had got through to the Germans. I don’t mind telling you, this is a disaster, this whole thing. What I want is to find that little bit of mechanical trickery anywhere. I don’t care where. In your luncheon box or under Hooper’s pillow, whatever. Just somewhere, and within the grounds of this place.”
“Then I’ll be going, on and getting on with my job of saving her, shall I?” I even rise half to my feet, before he slams the tabletop.
“Talk,” Harris demands. “Talk, now. Tell me where you’ve hidden it or who you’ve passed it to. Or God help me, but I’ll take your wretched pansy body to pieces looking for it, do you understand me?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
Work carefully? It’s difficult to work carefully when all one’s has is nothing but brute force.
I slide the component into the tent, work the zip closed, and move quickly away into the shadows. It takes a few minutes for my breath to slow, and my heart to stop hammering, but I see no other movement. If anyone is watching Hooper’s tent, they are asleep at their posts.
Satisfied, I return the short way up the paths between the huts to the barrack block and the broken window.
It’s a little harder getting back through - the window is higher off the ground than the floor inside - but after a decent bit of jumping and hauling I manage to get my elbows up, and then one leg, and finally I collapse inside, quite winded and out breath.
“I don’t know.”
“You can do better than that. Remember, there’s a hangman’s noose waiting for traitors.”
“I always meant to tell you,” I tell him. “I thought perhaps I could find out who they were. Lead you to them.”
Harris looks at me with contempt. “You wretched little man. Don’t think your tongue will be able to get you out of trouble. You’re going to pay for what you’ve done, and you’re going to pay dearly. If a single man loses his life because of your pride and your perversions then God help your eternal soul. The fact is you committed a crime.” If I had any sense that he understood my predicament, and that he felt for my state of being, it collapses like a chain with a broken link. “You thought you could repair it with another, more serious crime?” He shakes his head. “I thought you men were supposed to be clever. But this is the action of a frightened woman. So I’d like you to tell me, now. Where is it?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
“I broke it,” I reply. There doesn’t seem any use in trying to lie. “I thought I could escape. But I couldn’t get myself through.”
The Commander laughs. “Shame,” he remarks. “I should have left that window open and put a guard on you. Might have been interesting to see where you went. Anyway, I’m glad you’re still here, even if you do smell like a dog.”
I hang back a moment. Something does not seem quite right. After all, Hooper did not steal the component. He has no reason to confess to anything. Perhaps this is another trap?
“Well?” Harris asks. “What are you waiting for? Please don’t tell me you want to confess now as well, I don’t think my head could stand it.”
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
The bucket? Hardly. The bucket might do some good if I wanted to sweep up the glass afterwards, but it won’t help me smash the glass quietly.
I say nothing, my lips tightly, firmly sealed. It’s true I am a traitor, to the very laws of nature. The world has taught me that since a very early age. But not to my country - should the Reich win this war, I would hardly be treated as an honoured hero. I was doomed from the very start.
I explain none of this. How could a man like Harris understand?
The Commander takes one look back from the doorway as he pulls it to.
“It’s been a pleasure working with you, Mr Manning,” he declares. “You’ve done a great service to this country. If we come through, I’m sure they’ll remember you name. I’m sorry it had to end this way and I’ll do my best to keep it quiet. No-one need know what you did.”
Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
“What could I do?” I’m shaking now. The night is cold and the heat-lamp in this hut has been removed, presumably to keep me alert and on edge. “I don’t want to go to prison.”
“You committed a crime,” Harris answers. If I had any sense that he understood my predicament, and that he felt for my state of being, it collapses like a chain with a broken link. “You thought you could repair it with another, more serious crime?” He shakes his head. “I thought you men were supposed to be clever. But this is the action of a frightened woman. So I’d like you to tell me, now. Where is it?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
“That’s not important now. What matters is what you do, this evening. All you have to do is go to the back of Hut 2. There’s a breeze-block with a cavity. That’s where I’ve put it. I’ll be locked up overnight, I should think. But you can pick it up and pass it to my contact. He’ll be at the south fence around two AM.”
“If you think I’ll do that then you’re crazy,” Hooper replies.
At that moment the door flies open and the Captain comes storming back inside.
Harris hustles me over to the barracks. “I hope that’s the end of it,” he mutters as he pushes me up the steps.
“Just be sure to let him out,” I reply. “And then see where he goes.”
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
“It’s your problem. Your security breach. So much for your careful vetting process.” I lean back in my chair and fold my arms so the way they shake will not be visible. “You’d better get on with solving it, instead of wasting your time in here with me.”
Harris harrumphs. He’s thinking it all over.
“It’s not that bad. I can still fix it.”
Harris shakes his head. “This isn’t a problem to be cracked. This isn’t a puzzle. I’m sorry, but this is bigger than you now. Look. You can go to prison for what you’ve done, or we can change your identity and move you somewhere where your... indiscretions... can’t hurt anyone any more. But right now none of that matters. What happens to you, doesn’t matter. All that matters is where that component is. So I’d like you to tell me, now. Where is it?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
“Explain what you should be doing, do you mean, rather than bullying me? Certainly.” I fold my arms. “I know where your component is because it’s obvious where your component is. That doesn’t mean I took it, just because I can figure out a simple problem, any more than it means I’m a German spy because I can crack their codes.”
“Tell me, then,” he asks. “What’s your theory? You’re a smart fellow - as smart as they come around here, and that’s saying something. What’s your opinion on the missing component? Accident, perhaps? Or do you blame one of the other men?”
“Of my standing. My reputation.” I don’t like to talk of myself like this, but I carry on all the same. “Hooper simply can’t bear knowing that, once all this is over, I’ll be the one receiving the knighthood and he...”
“No-one will be getting a knighthood if the Germans invade,” Harris answers sharply. He casts a quick eye to the door of the Hut to check the latch is still down, then continues in more of a murmur: “Not you and not Hooper. Now answer me.” For the first time since the door closed, I wonder what the threat might be if I do not.
“Let’s get straight to the point. Do you have the component?” Harris demands. “Do you know where it is?”
“No. Not for more than a moment, of course. Everyone here is marked out by how little we would be willing to say about it.”
“Only you told this young man more than a little, didn’t you?”
I nod. “He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
I pause for a moment longer. It doesn’t do to be too careless...
Then the door locks turns. The door opens. Then Jeremy - one of the guards, rather - sticks his head through the door. “I thought I heard...”
He stops. Looks for a moment. Sees the bucket in my hand. Then without a moment’s further thought he blows his shrill whistles and hustles into the hut, grabbing me roughly by my arms.
I’ll never know if I hadn’t have waited that extra moment - maybe I still could have got away. But, how far?
I’m hustled into one of the huts. Nowhere to sleep, but they’re not interested in my comfort any longer. Harris comes in with the Captain.
“So,” Harris remarks. “Looks like your little trap worked. Only it worked to show you out for what you are.”
“Very well. I see there’s no point in covering up. You know everything anyway.”
Harris nods, and waits for me to continue.
“There was a young man, Harris. I met him in the town. A few months ago now. We got to talking - not about work. I said I was an accountant for a firm, just as I was supposed to. Although he seemed to know that wasn’t true. That got me wondering if he wasn’t one of us.”
Harris is not letting me off any more. “You seriously considered that possibility?”
I put my ear down to the keyhole, but there’s nothing now. Probably still a guard outside, of course, but they’re keeping mum.
If I leave the component here somewhere it should be somewhere I can rely on Hooper finding it, but no-one before Hooper. In particular.
I pat down my pockets but all I’m carrying is the intercept, which is no good at all.
I let him have his rant. He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
It depends, perhaps, on what his name his worth. If it were to prove valuable, well; perhaps I can concoct a few more such lovers with which to ease my later days.
Harris put the cuffs around my wrists. “I still have the intercept in my pocket,” I remark. “Wherever we’re going, could I have a pencil?”
He looks me in the eye.
“I’ll give you a stone to chisel notches in the wall. And that’s all the calculations you’ll be doing. And as you sit there, pissing into a bucket and growing a beard down to your toes, you have a think about how a smart man would conduct his illicit affairs. With a bit of due decorum you could have learnt off any squaddie. You scientists.” He drags me up to my feet. “You think you have to re-invent everything.”
With that, he hustles me out of the door and I can’t help thinking that, with a little more strategy, I could still have won the day. But too late now, of course.
“No, Harris. The young man wasn’t blackmailing me.” I take a deep breath. “It was Hooper.”
“Now look here,” Harris interrupts. “Don’t start that again.”
“It’s the truth, Harris. If I’m going to jail, then so be it, but I won’t hang at Traitor’s Gate. Hooper was the one who told the boy about our work. Hooper put the boy on to me. And then, once he had me compromised, he demanded I steal the part from the machine.”
“Which you did.” Harris leans forward. “And then what? You still have it? You put it somewhere?”
The bucket? Hardly. The bucket might do some good if I wanted to sweep up the glass afterwards, but it won’t help me smash the glass quietly.
That is Harris returning. Our little computation here is complete. I only hope one of the others will be able to explain to him that the part I stole will mean nothing to the Germans.
That is the true secret of the calculating engine, and the source of its power: not in the components themselves, but in how they are wired together. The diversity of patterns and structures they can form. Much like people - it is how they connect that determines our victories and tragedies, and not their genius.
Which makes me wonder. Should I give the young man who put me in this spot to them as well as myself?
I settle down to wait.
Night falls. The clockwork of the heavens keeps turning, whatever state I might be in. No-one can steal the components that make the sun go down and the stars come out. I watch it performing its operations. I can’t sleep.
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
It’s no good. That’s only half a solution. I couldn’t be happy with that.
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
“I can imagine how being surrounded by clever men is pretty threatening for you, Commander,” I reply with a sneer. “They don’t train you to think in the Armed Forces.”
“Talk,” Harris demands. “Talk, now. Tell me where you’ve hidden it or who you’ve passed it to. Or God help me, but I’ll take your wretched pansy body to pieces looking for it, do you understand me?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
I slide the component into the tent, work the zip closed, and move quickly away into the shadows. It takes a few minutes for my breath to slow, and my heart to stop hammering, but I see no other movement. If anyone is watching Hooper’s tent, they are asleep at their posts.
Satisfied, I return the short way up the paths between the huts to the barrack block and the broken window.
It’s a little harder getting back through - the window is higher off the ground than the floor inside - but after a decent bit of jumping and hauling I manage to get my elbows up, and then one leg, and finally I collapse inside, quite winded and out breath.
I look in through the door and catch Hooper’s expression. I had half expected him to be smiling be he isn’t. He looks shocked, almost hurt. “Iain,” he murmurs. “You couldn’t...”
The Captain comes outside, pulling the door to. “What’s this?” he asks. “A confession? Just like that?”
“No,” the Commander admits, in a low voice. “I’m afraid not. Rather more a scheme. The idea is to let Hooper go and see what he does. If he believes we have Manning here in irons, he’ll try to shift the component.”
“If he has it.”
“Indeed.”
The Captain peers at me for a moment, like I was some kind of curious insect.
“Sometimes, I think you people are magicians,” he remarks. “Other times you seem more like witches. Very well.”
With that he opens the door to the Hut and goes back inside. The Commander uses the moment to hustle me roughly forward.
“This scheme of yours had better come off,” he hisses in my ear. “Otherwise the Captain is going to start having men tailing me to see where I go on Saturdays.”
I let him have his rant. He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
“An accident, naturally.” I risk a smile. “That damned machine, Harris; it’s made from spare parts and string. Even these huts leak when it rains. It wouldn’t take more than one fellow to trip over a cable to shake out a component and have it roll away across the floor. Have you tried looking under the thing?”
Harris doesn’t smile. “Do you suppose we haven’t? Do you supposed we haven’t combed every inch of this place already?”
In a sudden moment I understand that his reply is a threat.
“Now,” he continues. “Are you sure there isn’t anything you want to tell me?”
Then pause. This is too transparent. Too blatant. If I leave it here, like this, Hooper will never be seen to go looking for it: he will stumble over it in plain sight, and the men watching will wonder why it was not there when he went to bed.
No, I must try something else - or nothing at all.
I peer out of the window, but it looks out onto the little brook at the back of the compound, with no view of the other huts or the House. Who knows if there are men up, searching the base of Hut 2, following one another with flashlights...
The night draws on at its own pace. I suppose by morning I will know my fate.
“Very well. I see there’s no point in covering up. You know everything anyway.”
Harris nods, and waits for me to continue.
“There was a young man, Harris. I met him in the town. A few months ago now. We got to talking - not about work. I said I was an accountant for a firm, just as I was supposed to. Although he seemed to know that wasn’t true. That got me wondering if he wasn’t one of us.”
Harris is not letting me off any more. “You seriously considered that possibility?”
“Now steady on,” I reply, gesturing for him to calm himself.
“Talk,” Harris demands. “Talk, now. Tell me where you’ve hidden it or who you’ve passed it to. Or God help me, but I’ll take your wretched pansy body to pieces looking for it, do you understand me?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
“You treated me like vermin. Like something abhorrent.”
“You are something abhorrent.”
“I wasn’t. Not when I came here. And I won’t be, once you’re gone.”
I get to my feet and open the door of the Hut. The Captain storms back inside and I’m quickly thrown out. Harris hustles me over to the barracks. “I hope that’s the end of it,” he mutters as he pushes me up the steps.
“Just be sure to let him out,” I reply. “And then see where he goes.”
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. Thinking back, I should have wrapped the part from the Bombe in one of his shirts before hiding it, that would have been a clever move. I really do make a terrible spy.
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
“I’m not trying to do anything except save my neck.”
“Let’s hope things work out,” Harris agrees darkly.
He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
“I always meant to tell you,” I tell him. “I thought perhaps I could find out who they were. Lead you to them.”
Harris looks at me with contempt. “You wretched little man. Don’t think your tongue will be able to get you out of trouble. You’re going to pay for what you’ve done, and you’re going to pay dearly. If a single man loses his life because of your pride and your perversions then God help your eternal soul. The fact is you committed a crime.” If I had any sense that he understood my predicament, and that he felt for my state of being, it collapses like a chain with a broken link. “You thought you could repair it with another, more serious crime?” He shakes his head. “I thought you men were supposed to be clever. But this is the action of a frightened woman. So I’d like you to tell me, now. Where is it?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
I settle down to wait.
Night falls. The clockwork of the heavens keeps turning, whatever state I might be in. No-one can steal the components that make the sun go down and the stars come out. I watch it performing its operations. I can’t sleep.
Has Hooper taken my bait?
I have no God to make peace with. I find it difficult to believe in goodness of any kind, in a world such as this.
But I am no traitor. At least, not to my country. To my sex, perhaps. But how could I support the Reich? If it were to come to power, I would be worse off than under the already dire circumstances of my existence.
In truth, it is men like Harris who are complex, not men like me. I live to make things ordered, systematic. I like my pencils sharpened and lined up in a row. I do not deal in difficult borders, or uncertainties, or alliances. If I could, I would reduce the world to something easier to understand, something finite. But of course, I cannot, not even here, in this little micro-world, this safe haven from the horrors of the war.
I have no place here. No way to fit. I am the intercept - caught, in the middle, cryptic and understood only thinly, through devices and machines.
“Damn right I’m sore. Was it one of the others who put you up to this? Was it Hooper? He’s always been jealous of me. He’s...”
The Commander moustache bristles as he purses his lips. “Has he now? Of your achievements, do you think?” It’s difficult not to shake the sense that he’s mocking me. “Or of your brain? Or something else?”
I slip off my jacket and hold it with one hand over the glass. This should do it. Then I heft back my arm, and take a strong swing, trying to imagine it’s Harris’ face on the other side.
The sound of the impact is muffled. With my arm still covered, I sweep out the remaining glass in the frame. I’m ready to escape. The only trouble is - when they look in on me in the morning, there will be no question what has happened. It won’t help me one jot with shifting suspicion off my back.
“Yes, perhaps. But also to ensure your name goes down in the annals of mathematics. All you have to do is go to the back of Hut 2. There’s a breeze-block with a cavity. That’s where I’ve put it. I’ll be locked up overnight, I should think. But you can pick it up and pass it to my contact. He’ll be at the south fence around two AM.”
“If you think I’ll do that then you’re crazy,” Hooper replies.
At that moment the door flies open and the Captain comes storming back inside.
Harris hustles me over to the barracks. “I hope that’s the end of it,” he mutters as he pushes me up the steps.
“Just be sure to let him out,” I reply. “And then see where he goes.”
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
“That’s exactly it,” I say quietly. “Harris. You understand. There are some things... which can get a man into a lot of trouble. Things one shouldn’t do.”
Harris, to his credit, doesn’t stiffen. He doesn’t lean away, or remove his hands from the table-top as though my condition might be infectious. I thought they trained them in the army to shoot my kind on sight but he does not.
Of course, he does not offer any sympathy either. He only nods, once. The understanding that has passed between us here is a mere turning cog in his calculations, with no meaning or righteousness to it.
“I’ve seen the same story a hundred times before,” he says. “A young man like yourself - clever, somewhat removed from the world. The kind that doesn’t go to parties, you might say. Who takes himself a little too seriously, perhaps. Takes things too far. Further than a man should allow a thing to go. That’s the story, isn’t it? You took things too far, and then you couldn’t take them back. And now they have you.”
“All right. I’ll tell you what happened.” And never mind my shame, I think.
“I can imagine how it starts,” he growls.
“There was a young man, Harris. I met him in the town. A few months ago now. We got to talking - not about work, you understand. I said I was an accountant for a firm, just as I was supposed to. Although he seemed to know that wasn’t true. That got me wondering if he wasn’t one of us.”
Harris is not letting me off any more. “You seriously considered that possibility?”
Making a wide circuit I creep around the tent. It has plenty of other flaps and openings, tied down with Gordian complexity. But nothing afford itself to slipping the component inside.
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
“So would you,” I reply tartly. Harris raises an eyebrow.
“I’ve been through worse than this,” he replies matter-of-factly. “It’s hardly my fault if you sleep in your clothes.”
I glare back at him.
He goes over to the window, unlocks it and throws it open, relishing the fresh air from outside. “Hooper’s confessed, you know.”
“That’s exactly it,” I say quietly. “Harris. You understand. There are some things... which can get a man into a lot of trouble. Things one shouldn’t do.”
Harris, to his credit, doesn’t stiffen. He doesn’t lean away, or remove his hands from the table-top as though my condition might be infectious. I thought they trained them in the army to shoot my kind on sight but he does not.
Of course, he does not offer any sympathy either. He only nods, once. The understanding that has passed between us here is a mere turning cog in his calculations, with no meaning or righteousness to it.
“I’ve seen the same story a hundred times before,” he says. “A young man like yourself - clever, somewhat removed from the world. The kind that doesn’t go to parties, you might say. Who takes himself a little too seriously, perhaps. Takes things too far. Further than a man should allow a thing to go. That’s the story, isn’t it? You took things too far, and then you couldn’t take them back. And now they have you.”
“If I wanted to escape, I would have made damn sure that I could,” I tell him sternly.
“Well, I’m afraid it is going to get worse for you,” Harris replies soberly. “We followed Hooper, and he took himself neatly to bed and slept like a boy scout. Which puts us back to square one, and you firmly in the frame. And I’m afraid I don’t have time for any more games. I want you to tell me where that component is, or we will hang you as a traitor.”
He passes a hand across his eyes with a long look of despair.
“I’m going to go outside and organise a rope. That’ll take about twelve minutes. That’s how long you have to decide.”
“Very well. I see there’s no point in covering up. You know everything anyway.”
Harris nods, and waits for me to continue.
“There was a young man, Harris. I met him in the town. A few months ago now. We got to talking - not about work. I said I was an accountant for a firm, just as I was supposed to. Although he seemed to know that wasn’t true. That got me wondering if he wasn’t one of us.”
Harris is not letting me off any more. “You seriously considered that possibility?”
I pause a moment, trying to choose my words. To just come out and say it, after a lifetime of hiding... I wouldn’t know how. To put it into words, bluntly and directly: that is a circle I cannot square.
“I’ve done things,” I begin, uncomfortably. “I didn’t want to. I tried not to. But in the end, you understand. I had to. It felt like cutting off my own arm not to. Things I know I shouldn’t have. Things I perhaps regret.”
“I see,” Harris answers. “You’ve left yourself open. To pressure. Is that what you’re saying?”
I slip off my jacket and hold it with one hand over the glass. This should do it. Then I heft back my arm, and take a strong swing, trying to imagine it’s Harris’ face on the other side.
The sound of the impact is muffled. With my arm still covered, I sweep out the remaining glass in the frame. I’m ready to escape. The only trouble is - when they look in on me in the morning, there will be no question what has happened. It won’t help me one jot with shifting suspicion off my back.
I lean back. “It’s your problem. Your security breach. So much for your careful vetting process.” I lean back in my chair and fold my arms so the way they shake will not be visible. “You’d better get on with solving it, instead of wasting your time in here with me.”
Harris harrumphs. He’s thinking it all over.
“I’m looking forward to having a bath.”
“Well, you should enjoy it. We found the missing component. Or rather, Hooper found it for us. He snuck out of his tent first thing in the morning and retrieved it from on top. Of all the damnest places - you would never have known it was there. He acted all surprised about it when we jumped him, of course, as you might expect - but it was good enough for me.”
“No, Harris. The young man wasn’t blackmailing me.” I take a deep breath. “It was Hooper.”
“Hooper!” Harris exclaims, in surprise.
“It’s the truth, Harris. If I’m going to jail, then so be it, but I won’t hang at Traitor’s Gate. Hooper was the one who told the boy about our work. Hooper put the boy on to me. And then, once he had me compromised, he demanded I steal the part from the machine.”
“Which you did.” Harris leans forward. “And then what? You still have it? You put it somewhere?”
“Maybe I can help with that.”
“Oh, yes? And how, exactly?”
I wait a few minutes, to be sure Hooper and the Captain will have gone, then try the door. It’s locked, all right. I’m not really one for picking locks. Never tried it. I don’t think I’ll be getting out that way.
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
“Oh, yes?”
“Yes. For what that’s worth. There’s still the issue of the component. It hasn’t turned up. He didn’t lead us to it. I guess he figured you must have had something on him. I don’t know.”
He looks quite put out by the whole affair. He is not the kind of man to deal well with ambiguities and probabilities, far preferred the clarity of fact and falsehood.
“Please, Hooper. You don’t understand what’s at stake. They have information on me. What I’ve done. I don’t need to tell you what I’ve done, you know. I know you do. And I know you think it’s wrong, but please man, have a soul. They were going to ruin me. And the component - it’s nothing. It’s not the secret of the Bombe, or even of what we’re doing here. It’s just a part. The German’s think it’s a weapon - a missile component or a detonator. Let them have it! Please, man. Just help me.”
“Help you?” Hooper stares, as I have gone mad. “Help you? You’re a traitor, Iain. You’re a traitor. A snake in the grass. And you’re queer.”
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
“The Captain thought it was a good scheme. You’ll most likely get a promotion.”
“Let’s hope things work out,” Harris agrees darkly.
He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
“So would you after the night I’ve had.”
“Well, I’m afraid it is going to get worse for you,” Harris replies soberly. “We followed Hooper, and he took himself neatly to bed and slept like a boy scout. Which puts us back to square one, and you firmly in the frame. And I’m afraid I don’t have time for any more games. I want you to tell me where that component is, or we will hang you as a traitor.”
He passes a hand across his eyes with a long look of despair.
“I’m going to go outside and organise a rope. That’ll take about twelve minutes. That’s how long you have to decide.”
“I don’t know what gives you the right to pick on me. Shouldn’t I have a lawyer?”
“This is time of war,” Harris answers. His tone of voice has fallen down into darkness. “And by God, if I have to shoot you to recover the component or stop it falling into the wrong hands, I will, do you understand me?”
There’s an icy silence. He’s angry at my slippery answers. He waves an impetuous hand across the field table.
“Now, drink your tea and talk.”
I wait a few minutes, to be sure Hooper and the Captain will have gone, then try the door. It’s locked, all right. I’m not really one for picking locks. Never tried it. I don’t think I’ll be getting out that way.
“Right now, I think you take that role, Harris,” I reply coolly.
“Very droll,” he replies. “Let me tell you what happened this morning, and see if it takes the smile off your face. Our men watching Hooper’s tent saw Hooper wake up, get dressed, clamber out of his tent and then remark with surprise as, while looking for his shoes, he stumbled on something just at the entrance of his tent.”
Of course not. I am alone; that is what they wanted me to be, because of who and what I love. So I have no nation, no country.
“I’m afraid we have only one option, Manning,” Harris says. “Please, man. Tell us where the component is.”
From where he’s sitting, I know Hooper can see me, so I keep my head down and look guilty as sin. The bastard is probably smiling.
The Captain comes outside, pulling the door to. “What’s this?” he asks. “A confession? Just like that?”
“No,” the Commander admits, in a low voice. “I’m afraid not. Rather more a scheme. The idea is to let Hooper go and see what he does. If he believes we have Manning here in irons, he’ll try to shift the component.”
“If he has it.”
“Indeed.”
The Captain peers at me for a moment, like I was some kind of curious insect.
“Sometimes, I think you people are magicians,” he remarks. “Other times you seem more like witches. Very well.”
With that he opens the door to the Hut and goes back inside. The Commander uses the moment to hustle me roughly forward.
“This scheme of yours had better come off,” he hisses in my ear. “Otherwise the Captain is going to start having men tailing me to see where I go on Saturdays.”
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
That is Harris returning. Our little computation here is complete.
That is the true secret of the calculating engine, and the source of its power: not in the components themselves, but in how they are wired together. The diversity of patterns and structures they can form. Much like people - it is how they connect that determines our victories and tragedies, and not their genius.
Which makes me wonder. Should I give the young man who put me in this spot to them as well as myself?
I leave the cup exactly where it is. “Why?” I ask coldly. “What’s in it?”
“Lapsang Souchong,” he remarks, placing his own cup down on the table with a clink. “Such a curious flavour. It might almost not be tea at all. You might say it hides a multitude of sins. As do you, isn’t that correct?”
“All right. All right. That’s exactly what happened.”
“Shame,” he remarks. “I should have left that window open and put a guard on you. Might have been interesting to see where you went. Anyway, I’m glad you’re still here, even if you do smell like a dog.”
In case I’m being followed, I divert around the perimeter of the compound. It’s a much longer path, and it takes me across some terrain that’s difficult to negotiate in the dark - muddy, and thick with thistles and nestles.
Still, I can be confident no-one is following, as I hear nothing. I crouch down behind the rear wall of Hut 2. The component is still there, wrapped in a tea-towel and shoved into a cavity in a breeze-block at the base of the Hut wall.
“No. Not for more than a moment, of course. Everyone here is marked out by how little we would be willing to say about it.”
“Only you told this young man more than a little, didn’t you?”
I nod. “He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
I creep forward to the tent, intent on lifting the zip to the front porch area just a little - enough to slip the component inside, and without the risk of the noise waking Hooper from his snoring.
The work is careful, and more than little fiddly - Hooper has tied the zips down on the inside, the fastidious little bastard! - but after a little work I manage to make a hole large enough for my hand.
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
“Heard what?”
“Hooper’s been taken away. They caught him, uncovering that missing Bombe component from a hiding place somewhere, apparently about to take it to his contact.” Russell harrumphs. “Quince was saying this morning, apparently his grandfather was German. So perhaps it’s to be expected. See you there?”
I wave to him and move away, my thoughts turning to the young man in the village. My lover. My contact. My blackmailer. Hooper may have taken the fall for the missing component, but if it was his recovering it from Hut 2 then I have nothing to sell to save my reputation.
If he didn’t, of course, and Harris was telling the truth about his sudden confession, then I will be able to buy my freedom once and for all.
“I don’t have it any more. I passed it through the fence to my contact straight after taking it, before it was discovered to be missing. It would have been idiocy to do differently. It’s long gone, I’m afraid.”
“You fool, Manning,” Harris curses, getting quickly to his feet. “You utter fool. Do you suppose you will be any better off living under Hitler? It’s men like you who will get us all killed. Men too feeble, too weak in their hearts to stand up and take a man’s responsibility for the world. You’re happier to stay a child all your life and play with your little childish toys.”
I slip off my jacket and hold it with one hand over the glass. This should do it. Then I heft the bucket - this really is quite a fiddly thing to be doing, and I need far longer arms, especially in cuffs - and take a strong swing, trying to imagine it’s Harris’ face on the other side.
The sound of the impact is muffled. With my arm still covered, I sweep out the remaining glass in the frame. I’m ready to escape. The only trouble is - when they look in on me in the morning, there will be no question what has happened. It won’t help me one jot with shifting suspicion off my back.
“Yes, I considered it. He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
“Put me in with Hooper. Maybe I can get something useful out of him. As his colleague.”
Harris shakes his head. “He despises you, doesn’t he? I don’t see why he’d give himself up to you.”
“Very well then.” I swallow nervously, to make it look more genuine. “No. I passed it on to Hooper.”
“I see. And what did he do with it?”
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
“Yes. Something like that. It’s a very lonely life otherwise. And the work we do - well. It only makes it worse. There’s barely a moment to oneself.”
“That’s how it is in the Service,” Harris answers. “I know you didn’t sign up for it but, well. There’s plenty of other men who didn’t who are serving now, too. Now, go on with your confession.”
That gives me pause, for a moment. I hadn’t thought of it as such. But I suppose that’s what this is. I am about to admit what I did, after all.
“There’s not much else to say. I took the part from Bombe computing device. You seem to know that already. I had to. He was going to expose me if I didn’t.”
“This young man was blackmailing you over your affair?”
“It’s your problem. Your security breach. So much for your careful vetting process.” I lean back in my chair and fold my arms so the way they shake will not be visible. “You’d better get on with solving it, instead of wasting your time in here with me.”
Harris harrumphs. He’s thinking it all over.
“I’m no traitor,” I answer smartly.
He stares back at me. “Let’s get straight to the point. Do you have the component?” Harris demands. “Do you know where it is?”
But of course I will. Perhaps I can persuade them to put him in my cell.
Harris put the cuffs around my wrists. “I still have the intercept in my pocket,” I remark. “Wherever we’re going, could I have a pencil?”
He looks me in the eye.
“I’ll give you a stone to chisel notches in the wall. And that’s all the calculations you’ll be doing. And as you sit there, pissing into a bucket and growing a beard down to your toes, you have a think about how a smart man would conduct his illicit affairs. With a bit of due decorum you could have learnt off any squaddie. You scientists.” He drags me up to my feet. “You think you have to re-invent everything.”
With that, he hustles me out of the door and I can’t help thinking that, with a little more strategy, I could still have won the day. But too late now, of course.
Morning comes slowly, but I must fall asleep at some point, because the next thing I know the rooster is calling and a cool, fresh breeze is blowing through the open window. I barely have time to wipe the sleep from my eyes and brush myself down before the door opens and Harris enters.
He takes one look around, and sighs, a deep, wistful sigh.
“Things just get worse and worse for you, Manning,” he remarks. “You are your own worst enemy.”
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
I go over to the window and try to jimmy it open. Not much luck, but in my struggling I notice this window only backs on the thin little brook that runs down the back of the compound. Which means, if I smashed it, I might get away with no-one seeing.
The bucket? Hardly. The bucket might do some good if I wanted to sweep up the glass afterwards, but it won’t help me smash the glass quietly.
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
“I don’t have it any more. I passed it through the fence to my contact straight after taking it, before it was discovered to be missing. It would have been idiocy to do differently. It’s long gone, I’m afraid.”
“You fool, Manning,” Harris curses, getting quickly to his feet. “You utter fool. Do you suppose you will be any better off living under Hitler? It’s men like you who will get us all killed. Men too feeble, too weak in their hearts to stand up and take a man’s responsibility for the world. You’re happier to stay a child all your life and play with your little childish toys.”
“I’m looking forward to a long bath,” I reply. “And getting back to work.”
“Well, I’m afraid it is going to get worse for you,” Harris replies soberly. “We followed Hooper, and he took himself neatly to bed and slept like a boy scout. Which puts us back to square one, and you firmly in the frame. And I’m afraid I don’t have time for any more games. I want you to tell me where that component is, or we will hang you as a traitor.”
He passes a hand across his eyes with a long look of despair.
“I’m going to go outside and organise a rope. That’ll take about twelve minutes. That’s how long you have to decide.”
“Try me. Just me and him.”
“Alone?”
“Alone.”
Harris considers it. I watch his eyes, flicking backwards and forwards over mine, like a ribbon-reader trying to load in its program.
“What could I do?” I’m shaking now. The night is cold and the heat-lamp in this hut has been removed, presumably to keep me alert and on edge. “I don’t want to go to prison.”
“You committed a crime,” Harris answers. If I had any sense that he understood my predicament, and that he felt for my state of being, it collapses like a chain with a broken link. “You thought you could repair it with another, more serious crime?” He shakes his head. “I thought you men were supposed to be clever. But this is the action of a frightened woman. So I’d like you to tell me, now. Where is it?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
“I don’t know what gives you the right to pick on me. Shouldn’t I have a lawyer?”
“This is time of war,” Harris answers. His tone of voice has fallen down into darkness. “And by God, if I have to shoot you to recover the component or stop it falling into the wrong hands, I will, do you understand me?”
There’s an icy silence. He’s angry at my slippery answers. He waves an impetuous hand across the field table.
“Now, drink your tea and talk.”
“No. Not for more than a moment, of course. Everyone here is marked out by how little we would be willing to say about it.”
“Only you told this young man more than a little, didn’t you?”
I nod. “He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
I put my ear to the keyhole but can make out nothing. Are there still guards posted? Perhaps, if Hooper has managed to incriminate himself, the guards have been removed?
Perhaps the door is unlocked and they left me to sleep? I try the handle. No such luck.
The night draws on at its own pace. I suppose by morning I will know my fate.
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
I slip off my jacket and hold it with one hand over the glass. This should do it. Then I heft the bucket - this really is quite a fiddly thing to be doing, and I need far longer arms, especially in cuffs - and take a strong swing, trying to imagine it’s Harris’ face on the other side.
The sound of the impact is muffled. With my arm still covered, I sweep out the remaining glass in the frame. I’m ready to escape. The only trouble is - when they look in on me in the morning, there will be no question what has happened. It won’t help me one jot with shifting suspicion off my back.
“Messy, without one missing cache!” I cry, laughing spitefully. It isn’t the best clue, hardly worthy of the Times, but it will have to do.
I only catch Hooper’s reaction for a moment - his eyebrow lifts in surprise and alarm. Good. If he thinks it is a threat then he just might be careless enough to go looking for what it might mean.
The Captain comes outside, pulling the door to. “What’s this?” he asks. “A confession? Just like that?”
“No,” the Commander admits, in a low voice. “I’m afraid not. Rather more a scheme. The idea is to let Hooper go and see what he does. If he believes we have Manning here in irons, he’ll try to shift the component.”
“If he has it.”
“Indeed.”
The Captain peers at me for a moment, like I was some kind of curious insect.
“Sometimes, I think you people are magicians,” he remarks. “Other times you seem more like witches. Very well.”
With that he opens the door to the Hut and goes back inside. The Commander uses the moment to hustle me roughly forward.
“And what was all that shouting about?” he hisses in my ear as we move towards the barracks. “Are you trying to pull something? Or just make me look incompetent?”
“Maybe I can help with that.”
“Oh, yes? And how, exactly?”
“All right. I’ll tell you what happened.” And never mind my shame, I think.
“I can imagine how it starts,” he growls.
“There was a young man, Harris. I met him in the town. A few months ago now. We got to talking - not about work, you understand. I said I was an accountant for a firm, just as I was supposed to. Although he seemed to know that wasn’t true. That got me wondering if he wasn’t one of us.”
Harris is not letting me off any more. “You seriously considered that possibility?”
“I don’t think Hooper could have planned this in advance. So he’d need to get word to whoever he’s working with, and that would take time. So I think he would have hidden it somewhere, and be waiting to make sure I soundly take the fall. That way, if anything goes wrong, he can arrange for the part to be conveniently re-found.”
“Makes sense,” Harris agrees, cautiously. I can see he’s still not entirely convinced by my tale, as well he might not be - I’ve hardly been entirely straight with him. “Which means the question is, what can we do to rat him out?”
After a chance like this? A chance - however real - to save my neck? To hand it over - what, to save Hooper’s worthless skin?
“No, Harris. The young man wasn’t blackmailing me.” I take a deep breath. “It was Hooper.”
“Now look here,” Harris interrupts. “Don’t start that again.”
“It’s the truth, Harris. If I’m going to jail, then so be it, but I won’t hang at Traitor’s Gate. Hooper was the one who told the boy about our work. Hooper put the boy on to me. I should have realised, of course. These things don’t happen by chance. I was a fool to think they might. And then, once he had me compromised, he demanded I steal the part from the machine.”
“Which you did.” Harris leans forward. “And then what? You still have it? You put it somewhere?”
“I don’t think Hooper could have planned this in advance. So he’d need to get word to whoever he’s working with, and that would take time. So I think he would have hidden it somewhere, and be waiting to make sure I soundly take the fall. That way, if anything goes wrong, he can arrange for the part to be conveniently re-found.”
“Makes sense,” Harris agrees, cautiously. I can see he’s still not entirely convinced by my tale, as well he might not be - I’ve hardly been entirely straight with him. “Which means the question is, what can we do to rat him out?”
“Put me in with Hooper. Maybe I can get something useful out of him. As his colleague.”
Harris shakes his head. “He despises you, doesn’t he? I don’t see why he’d give himself up to you.”
“No.”
“Too bad.” Harris opens the door and pushes me inside. “Captain,” he calls. “Could I have a moment?”
The Captain, looking puzzled, steps out. The door is closed. Hooper stares at me, open-mouthed, about to say something. I probably have less than a minute before the Captain storms back in and declares this plan to be bunkum.
“All right. All right. That’s exactly what happened.”
“Shame,” he remarks. “I should have left that window open and put a guard on you. Might have been interesting to see where you went. Anyway, I’m glad you’re still here, even if you do smell like a dog.”
“You’re right. Let me talk to him, then. As a colleague. Maybe I can get something useful out of him.”
Harris shakes his head. “He despises you, doesn’t he? I don’t see why he’d give himself up to you.”
“Yes, I considered it. He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
“So would you,” I reply tartly. Harris raises an eyebrow.
“I’ve been through worse than this,” he replies matter-of-factly. “It’s hardly my fault if you sleep in your clothes.”
I glare back at him.
He goes over to the window, unlocks it and throws it open, relishing the fresh air from outside. “Hooper’s confessed, you know.”
“I was quite certain, after a while. After we’d been talking. He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
I put my ear down to the keyhole, but there’s nothing now. Probably still a guard outside, of course, but they’re keeping mum.
The bucket? Hardly. The bucket might do some good if I wanted to sweep up the glass afterwards, but it won’t help me smash the glass quietly.
Well, then. To Hooper’s dorm. Time to wrap up this little game once and for all.
I creep around the outside of the Huts. All are quiet, steel-grey in the hazy moonlight; a few shining copper from arc-lamps strung from the trees. A few guards patrol the area at night but not many - after all, very few know this place even exists.
Our quarters are arranged away from the House; where we sleep is of less importance than where we work. We each have our own Hut, through some are less permanent than other’s. Hooper’s is a military issue tent: quite a large canopy, with two rooms inside and a short porch area where he insists people leave their shoes. It’s all zipped up for the night and no light shines from inside.
I hang back for a moment. If Harris is keeping to the terms of our deal then someone will be watching this place. But I can see no-one.
“When you have eliminated the impossible...” I begin, but Harris cuts me off.
“We are left with two possibilities, quite clearly. You, or Hooper.” The Commander pauses to smooth down his moustache. “Hooper’s in Hut 3 with the Captain, having a similar conversation.”
“It’s not that bad. I can still fix it.”
Harris shakes his head. “This isn’t a problem to be cracked. This isn’t a puzzle. I’m sorry, but this is bigger than you now. Look. You can go to prison for what you’ve done, or we can change your identity and move you somewhere where your... indiscretions... can’t hurt anyone any more. But right now none of that matters. What happens to you, doesn’t matter. All that matters is where that component is. So I’d like you to tell me, now. Where is it?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
“I don’t think Hooper could have planned this in advance. So he’d need to get word to whoever he’s working with, and that would take time. So I think he would have hidden it somewhere, and be waiting to make sure I soundly take the fall. That way, if anything goes wrong, he can arrange for the part to be conveniently re-found.”
“Makes sense,” Harris agrees, cautiously. I can see he’s still not entirely convinced by my tale, as well he might not be - I’ve hardly been entirely straight with him. “Which means the question is, what can we do to rat him out?”
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
Let me see. There’s the bunk, a bucket, nothing else. I have my jacket but nothing in the pockets - no handkerchief, for instance.
I go over to the window and try to jimmy it open. Not much luck, but in my struggling I notice this window only backs on the thin little brook that runs down the back of the compound. Which means, if I smashed it, I might get away with no-one seeing.
Well, then. To Hooper’s dorm. Time to wrap up this little game once and for all.
I creep around the outside of the Huts. All are quiet, steel-grey in the hazy moonlight; a few shining copper from arc-lamps strung from the trees. A few guards patrol the area at night but not many - after all, very few know this place even exists.
Our quarters are arranged away from the House; where we sleep is of less importance than where we work. We each have our own Hut, through some are less permanent than other’s. Hooper’s is a military issue tent: quite a large canopy, with two rooms inside and a short porch area where he insists people leave their shoes. It’s all zipped up for the night and no light shines from inside.
I hang back for a moment. If Harris is keeping to the terms of our deal then someone will be watching this place. But I can see no-one.
“Oh, yes?”
“Yes. For what that’s worth. There’s still the issue of the component. It hasn’t turned up. He didn’t lead us to it. I guess he figured you must have had something on him. I don’t know.”
He looks quite put out by the whole affair. He is not the kind of man to deal well with ambiguities and probabilities, far preferred the clarity of fact and falsehood.
I settle down to wait.
Night falls. The clockwork of the heavens keeps turning, whatever state I might be in. No-one can steal the components that make the sun go down and the stars come out. I watch it performing its operations. I can’t sleep.
Has Hooper taken my bait?
Ah, but of course! I slip off one shoe and heft it by the toe. The heel will make a decent enough hammer, if I give it enough wallop.
But I’ll cut my hand to ribbons doing it. And the noise would be terrible. There must be a way of making this easier. I’m supposed to be a thief now. What would a burglar do?
“No.”
“Too bad.” Harris opens the door and pushes me inside. “Captain,” he calls. “Could I have a moment?”
The Captain, looking puzzled, steps out. The door is closed. Hooper stares at me, open-mouthed, about to say something. I probably have less than a minute before the Captain storms back in and declares this plan to be bunkum.
“Then let him think he’s off the hook. Make a show of me. And then you’ll get your man.”
Somehow, I think. But that’s the part I need to work.
Harris gets to his feet. “All right,” he says. “I should no better than to trust a clever man, but we’ll give it a go.” Then, he smiles, with all his teeth, like a wolf. “Hooper’s in Hut 3 being debriefed by the Captain. Let’s see if we can’t get his attention somehow.”
He raps on the door for the guard and gives the man a quick instruction. He returns a moment later with a cool pair of iron cuffs.
“Put ‘em up,” Harris instructs, and I do so. The metal closes around my wrists like a trap. I stand and follow Harris willingly out through the door.
But whatever I’m doing with my body, my mind is scheming. Somehow, I’m thinking, I have to get away from these men long enough to get that component behind Hut 2 and put it somewhere Hooper will go. Or, otherwise, somehow get Hooper to go there himself...
Harris marches me over to Hut 3, and gestures for the guard to stand aside. Pushing me forward, he opens the door nice and wide.
“Captain. Manning talked. If you’d step out for a moment?”
The bunk has a solid metal frame, a blanket, a pillow, nothing more.
“What could I do?” I’m shaking now. The night is cold and the heat-lamp in this hut has been removed, presumably to keep me alert and on edge. “I don’t want to go to prison.”
“You committed a crime,” Harris answers. If I had any sense that he understood my predicament, and that he felt for my state of being, it collapses like a chain with a broken link. “You thought you could repair it with another, more serious crime?” He shakes his head. “I thought you men were supposed to be clever. But this is the action of a frightened woman. So I’d like you to tell me, now. Where is it?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
I see. Perhaps you think I bullied the man into giving himself up. Perhaps he understood my little clue far enough to know it was a threat against him, but not well enough to understand where he should look to find it. So he took the easy route out and folded. Gave me the hand.
Hardly sporting, is that it?
I go over to the window and try to jimmy it open. Not much luck, but in my struggling I notice this window only backs on the thin little brook that runs down the back of the compound. Which means, if I smashed it, I might get away with no-one seeing.
From outside, I hear a voice. Hooper’s. He’s haranguing someone, for something.
“Very well. I see there’s no point in covering up. You know everything anyway.”
Harris nods, and waits for me to continue.
“There was a young man, Harris. I met him in the town. A few months ago now. We got to talking - not about work. I said I was an accountant for a firm, just as I was supposed to. Although he seemed to know that wasn’t true. That got me wondering if he wasn’t one of us.”
Harris is not letting me off any more. “You seriously considered that possibility?”
“There’s nothing to explain,” I reply stiffly. “I know where your component is because it’s obvious where your component is. That doesn’t mean I took it, just because I can figure out a simple problem, any more than it means I’m a German spy because I can crack their codes.”
“Tell me, then,” he asks. “What’s your theory? You’re a smart fellow - as smart as they come around here, and that’s saying something. What’s your opinion on the missing component? Accident, perhaps? Or do you blame one of the other men?”
“I can imagine how being surrounded by clever men is pretty threatening for you, Commander,” I reply with a sneer. “They don’t train you to think in the Armed Forces.”
“Talk,” Harris demands. “Talk, now. Tell me where you’ve hidden it or who you’ve passed it to. Or God help me, but I’ll take your wretched pansy body to pieces looking for it, do you understand me?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
“I’m not sure. I was asleep: I woke up when someone broke the window. I looked out to see who it was, but they were already gone.”
Harris looks at me with puzzlement. “Someone came by to break the window, and then ran off? That’s absurd. That’s utterly absurd. Admit it, Manning. You tried to escape and you couldn’t get through.”
“I was quite certain, after a while. After we’d been talking. He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
“There’s nothing to explain,” I reply stiffly. “I know where your component is because it’s obvious where your component is. That doesn’t mean I took it, just because I can figure out a simple problem, any more than it means I’m a German spy because I can crack their codes.”
“Tell me, then,” he asks. “What’s your theory? You’re a smart fellow - as smart as they come around here, and that’s saying something. What’s your opinion on the missing component? Accident, perhaps? Or do you blame one of the other men? Hooper?”
I slip off my jacket and hold it with one hand over the glass. This should do it. Then I heft my shoe by its toe, and take a strong swing, trying to imagine it’s Harris’ face on the other side.
The sound of the impact is muffled. With my arm still covered, I sweep out the remaining glass in the frame. I’m ready to escape. The only trouble is - when they look in on me in the morning, there will be no question what has happened. It won’t help me one jot with shifting suspicion off my back.
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
I shake my head violently, to say no, that’s not it, but whatever is wrong with tongue is wrong with neck too. I look across at the table at Harris’ face and realise with a start how sympathetic he is. Such a kind, generous man. How can I hold anything back from him?
I take another mouthful of the bitter, strange-tasting tea before answering.
“That’s exactly it,” I say quietly. “Harris. You understand. There are some things... which can get a man into a lot of trouble. Things one shouldn’t do.”
Harris, to his credit, doesn’t stiffen. He doesn’t lean away, or remove his hands from the table-top as though my condition might be infectious. I thought they trained them in the army to shoot my kind on sight but he does not.
Of course, he does not offer any sympathy either. He only nods, once. The understanding that has passed between us here is a mere turning cog in his calculations, with no meaning or righteousness to it.
“I’ve seen the same story a hundred times before,” he says. “A young man like yourself - clever, somewhat removed from the world. The kind that doesn’t go to parties, you might say. Who takes himself a little too seriously, perhaps. Takes things too far. Further than a man should allow a thing to go. That’s the story, isn’t it? You took things too far, and then you couldn’t take them back. And now they have you.”
I have no God to make peace with. I find it difficult to believe in goodness of any kind, in a world such as this.
But I am no traitor. At least, not to my country. To my sex, perhaps. But how could I support the Reich? If it were to come to power, I would be worse off than under the already dire circumstances of my existence.
I have no place here. No way to fit. I am the intercept - caught, in the middle, cryptic and understood only thinly, through devices and machines.
I go over to the window and try to jimmy it open. Not much luck, but in my struggling I notice this window only backs on the thin little brook that runs down the back of the compound. Which means, if I smashed it, I might get away with no-one seeing.
From outside, I hear a voice. Hooper’s. He’s haranguing someone, for something.
“I was quite certain, after a while. After we’d been talking. He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
I pause a moment, trying to choose my words. To just come out and say it, after a lifetime of hiding... I wouldn’t know how. To put it into words, bluntly and directly: that is a circle I cannot square.
“I’ve done things,” I begin, uncomfortably. “I didn’t want to. I tried not to. But in the end, you understand. I had to. It felt like cutting off my own arm not to. Things I know I shouldn’t have. Things I perhaps regret.”
“I see,” Harris answers. “You’ve left yourself open. To pressure. Is that what you’re saying?”
I go over to the window and try to jimmy it open. Not much luck, but in my struggling I notice this window only backs on the thin little brook that runs down the back of the compound. Which means, if I smashed it, I might get away with no-one seeing.
“It will. Hooper’s running scared,” I reply, hoping I sound more confident than I feel.
“I think we’ve had enough drama today already,” Harris replies. “Let’s hope for a clean kill.”
He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
There’s no time to lose. Throwing caution to the wind I make my way quickly to Hut 2, and around the back. I don’t think I’ve been followed, or seen but if I have, it’s too late. My actions are suspicious enough for anyone’s noose. I have no choice but to follow through.
The component is still there, wrapped in a tea-towel and shoved into a cavity in a breeze-block at the base of the Hut wall.
Morning comes. I’m woken by a rooster calling from the yard behind the House. I must have slept after all. I pull myself up from the bunk, shivering slightly. There is condensation on the inside of the window. I have probably given myself a chill.
The door handle turns and without knocking, Harris comes inside. “You’re up,” he remarks, and then, “You smell like an animal.”
“You’re right.” I shake my head. “You’re right. I don’t see how I can help you after all. So, there’s only one conclusion.”
“Oh, yes? And what’s that?”
“It’s your problem. Your security breach. So much for your careful vetting process.” I lean back in my chair and fold my arms so the way they shake will not be visible. “You’d better get on with solving it, instead of wasting your time in here with me.”
Harris harrumphs. He’s thinking it all over.
In case I’m being followed, I divert around the perimeter of the compound. It’s a much longer path, and it takes me across some terrain that’s difficult to negotiate in the dark - muddy, and thick with thistles and nestles.
Still, I can be confident no-one is following, as I hear nothing. I crouch down behind the rear wall of Hut 2. The component is still there, wrapped in a tea-towel and shoved into a cavity in a breeze-block at the base of the Hut wall.
“No, I suppose not.” I push the teacup around on its base. “All I can say is, ever since I arrived here, he’s been looking to ways to bring me down a peg. I wouldn’t be surprised if he set this whole affair up just to have me court-martialled.”
“We don’t court-martial civilians,” Harris replies. “Traitors are simply hung at her Majesty’s pleasure.”
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
“No. Not for more than a moment, of course. Everyone here is marked out by how little we would be willing to say about it.”
“Only you told this young man more than a little, didn’t you?”
I nod. “He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
“You’re right.” I shake my head. “You’re right. I don’t see how I can help you after all. So, there’s only one conclusion.”
“Oh, yes? And what’s that?”
“It’s your problem. Your security breach. So much for your careful vetting process.” I lean back in my chair and fold my arms so the way they shake will not be visible. “You’d better get on with solving it, instead of wasting your time in here with me.”
Harris harrumphs. He’s thinking it all over.
I say quiet, listening, not sure how this will go.
“In case I’m not making myself clear,” Harris continues, “I mean, he managed to find it, by accident, somewhere where it wasn’t the night before. And at the same time, you’re sitting here with your window broken. So, I rather think you’ve played your last hand and lost. There’s no way Hooper stole that component and then just left it lying around in the doorway of his tent. No way at all. So I came to tell you that the game is up for you.”
He nods and gets to his feet. Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
“Perhaps Hooper had an accomplice. Someone else who works on site.”
Harris shakes his head, distractedly. “That doesn’t make sense,” he says. “Why go to all the trouble of stealing it only to give it back? And why like this?”
The bunk has a solid metal frame, a blanket, a pillow, nothing more.
I nod. “I don’t need twelve minutes. The missing component of the Bombe computer is hidden in a small cavity in a breeze-block supporting the left rear post of Hut 2. I put in there anticipating a search. I intended to dispose of it once the fuss had died down. I suppose I was foolish to think that it might.”
“Indeed you were. And, Mr Manning: God help you if you’re lying to me.”
Harris stands, and slips away smartly. Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
“Perhaps the accomplice thought it was Hooper being kept in here. Maybe they saw the guard...”
“This is all too far-fetched,” Harris says. “I’m glad to have this back, but I need to think.”
Getting to his feet, he nods once. “You’ll have to wait a little longer, I’m afraid, Manning.”
Then he steps out of the door, muttering to himself.
It’s useless. There’s nothing I can do but hope. I sit down on one corner of the bunk to wait.
Night falls. The clockwork of the heavens keeps turning, whatever state I might be in. No-one can steal the components that make the sun go down and the stars come out. I watch it performing its operations. I can’t sleep.
“How should I know?” I reply, defensively. “All I can say is, ever since I arrived here, he’s been looking to ways to bring me down a peg. I wouldn’t be surprised if he set this whole affair up just to have me court-martialled.”
“We don’t court-martial civilians,” Harris replies. “Traitors are simply hung at her Majesty’s pleasure.”
“I don’t know what gives you the right to pick on me. I demand a lawyer.”
“This is time of war,” Harris answers. His tone of voice has fallen down into darkness. “And by God, if I have to shoot you to recover the component or stop it falling into the wrong hands, I will, do you understand me?”
There’s an icy silence. He’s angry. He waves an impetuous hand across the field table.
“Now, drink your tea and talk.”
“No. I passed it on to Hooper.”
“I see. And what did he do with it?”
That is Harris returning. Our little computation here is complete. I only hope one of the others will be able to explain to him that the part I stole will mean nothing to the Germans.
That is the true secret of the calculating engine, and the source of its power: not in the components themselves, but in how they are wired together. The diversity of patterns and structures they can form. Much like people - it is how they connect that determines our victories and tragedies, and not their genius.
Which makes me wonder. Should I give the young man who put me in this spot to them as well as myself?
“I suppose I do rather.” I laugh, but Harris does not.
“This damn business gets worse and worse,” he says, talking as he goes over to unlock and throw open the window. “Hooper’s confessed, you know.”
No, I am content. I suppose I do not believe they will hang me. They will lock me up and continue to use my brain, if they can. I wonder what they will tell the world - perhaps that I have taken my own life. That would be simplest. The few who know me would believe it.
Well, then. Not a bad existence, in prison. Removed from temptation. A kind of imposed monasticism, with plenty more problems to solve, and more mysteries to fathom.
I wonder what else I might yet unravel before I’m done?
The bunk has a solid metal frame, a blanket, a pillow, nothing more.
But of course I will. Perhaps I can persuade them to put him in my cell.
Harris put the cuffs around my wrists. “I still have the intercept in my pocket,” I remark. “Wherever we’re going, could I have a pencil?”
He looks me in the eye.
“Certainly. And one of your computing things, if I get my way. And when we’re old, and smoking pipes together in The Rag like heroes, I’ll explain to you the way that decent men have affairs. You scientists.” He drags me up to my feet. “You think you have to re-invent everything.”
With that, he hustles me out of the door and I can’t help thinking that, with a little more strategy, I could still have won the day. But too late now, of course.
“You’re right.” I shake my head. “You’re right. I don’t see how I can help you after all. So, there’s only one conclusion.”
“Oh, yes? And what’s that?”
“It’s your problem. Your security breach. So much for your careful vetting process.” I lean back in my chair and fold my arms so the way they shake will not be visible. “You’d better get on with solving it, instead of wasting your time in here with me.”
Harris harrumphs. He’s thinking it all over.
I go over to the window and try to jimmy it open. Not much luck, but in my struggling I notice this window only backs on the thin little brook that runs down the back of the compound. Which means, if I smashed it, I might get away with no-one seeing.
“Quite right,” I answer smartly.
He stares back at me. “Let’s get straight to the point. Do you have the component?” Harris demands. “Do you know where it is?”
“No, I don’t. I’ve got work I should be doing tomorrow, and I need my rest...”
“Work that will be difficult for you to do, don’t you think?” Harris replies.
“They’ll have made a replacement by tomorrow,” I reply. “The war doesn’t stop over one missing reel.”
The reel went missing from the Bombe this afternoon. The four of us were in the Hut at the time, working on the latest intercept. It was Russell who noticed the machine producing strange results and found the gap in its plugboard. But as to who took it - it could have been any of us.
And indeed, it must have been. The machine had been functioning as normal when we began our calculations. And then, a short few hours later, it was gone. We had to stop. There was nothing more we could do until it was replaced. The part was vital, just as the machine was vital, and so were the contents of the message, still unread twenty four hours later.
“Let’s get straight to the point. Do you have the component?” Harris demands. “Do you know where it is?”
I shift in my seat. “Not really. The boy was a simpleton, obviously. My intellectual inferior. His good opinion meant nothing to be. Harris, please do not misunderstand me. I was simply after his body.”
Harris, to his credit, doesn’t flinch. Well, perhaps not: but he’ll have nightmares of this moment tonight. I’m almost tempted to reach out and try to take his hand to worsen it for him, but I hold back.
“Go on with your confession,” he replies. I shrug.
“There’s not much else to say. I took the part from Bombe computing device. You seem to know that already. I had to. He was going to expose me if I didn’t.”
“This young man was blackmailing you over your affair?”
“You’re right.” I shake my head. “You’re right. I don’t see how I can help you after all. So, there’s only one conclusion.”
“Oh, yes? And what’s that?”
“It’s your problem. Your security breach. So much for your careful vetting process.” I lean back in my chair and fold my arms so the way they shake will not be visible. “You’d better get on with solving it, instead of wasting your time in here with me.”
Harris harrumphs. He’s thinking it all over.
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
From inspiration - or desperation, I am not certain - a simple approach occurs to me. I toss the component away into the bushes behind Hooper’s tent and return to my barrack, wishing myself a long sleep followed by a morning, free of this business.
Satisfied, I return the short way up the paths between the huts to the barrack block and the broken window.
It’s a little harder getting back through - the window is higher off the ground than the floor inside - but after a decent bit of jumping and hauling I manage to get my elbows up, and then one leg, and finally I collapse inside, quite winded and out breath.
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
Enough of this. There isn’t any time to lose. Right now they’ll be following Hooper as he goes to bed, and goes to sleep; and then that’s it. The minute he closes his eyelids and drifts off that’s the moment that this trap swings shut on me.
So I punch out the glass with my fist and it shatters with a terrific noise. Then I stop, and wait, to see if anyone will come in through the door.
Nothing.
“I wouldn’t put it past him. He’s a creep.” I wipe a hand across my forehead. “All I can say is, ever since I arrived here, he’s been looking to ways to bring me down a peg. I wouldn’t be surprised if he set this whole affair up just to have me court-martialled.”
“We don’t court-martial civilians,” Harris replies. “Traitors are simply hung at her Majesty’s pleasure.”
Let me see. There’s the bunk, a bucket, nothing else. I have my jacket but nothing in the pockets - no handkerchief, for instance.
The bunk has a solid metal frame, a blanket, a pillow, nothing more.
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
I go over to the window and try to jimmy it open. Not much luck, but in my struggling I notice this window only backs on the thin little brook that runs down the back of the compound. Which means, if I smashed it, I might get away with no-one seeing.
From outside, I hear a voice. Hooper’s. He’s haranguing someone, for something.
I say nothing. It’s true, isn’t it? I can’t deny that I know there is a world out there, a complicated world of pain and suffering. And I can’t deny that I don’t think about it a moment longer than I have to. What use is thinking on a problem that cannot be solved? It is precisely our ability to avoid such endless spirals that makes us human and not machine.
“God have mercy on your soul,” Harris says finally, as he gets to his feet and heads for the door. “I fear no-one else will.” Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
I put my ear down to the keyhole, but there’s nothing now. Probably still a guard outside, of course, but they’re keeping mum.
I put my ear down to the keyhole, but there’s nothing now. Probably still a guard outside, of course, but they’re keeping mum.
Making a wide circuit I creep around the tent. It has plenty of other flaps and openings, tied down with Gordian complexity. But nothing afford itself to slipping the component inside.
“I suppose so,” I reply. “I’ve certainly done things I regret. Things I shouldn’t have done.”
“I see,” Harris answers. “You’ve left yourself open. To pressure. Is that what you’re saying?”
“I suppose I do rather.” I laugh, but Harris does not.
“This damn business gets worse and worse,” he says, talking as he goes over to unlock and throw open the window. “Hooper’s confessed, you know.”
“Yes. Something like that. It’s a very lonely life otherwise. And the work we do - well. It only makes it worse. There’s barely a moment to oneself.”
“That’s how it is in the Service,” Harris answers. “I know you didn’t sign up for it but, well. There’s plenty of other men who didn’t who are serving now, too. Now, go on with your confession.”
That gives me pause, for a moment. I hadn’t thought of it as such. But I suppose that’s what this is. I am about to admit what I did, after all.
“There’s not much else to say. I took the part from Bombe computing device. You seem to know that already. I had to. He was going to expose me if I didn’t.”
“This young man was blackmailing you over your affair?”
As Harris speaks I find myself suddenly sharply aware, as if waking from a long sleep. The table, the corrugated walls of the hut, everything seems suddenly more tangible than a moment before. Perhaps whatever it was they put in my drink is wearing off?
“At the moment when the machine halted, Peterson and Jefferies were by the work-table, Collins and Humph were out having a smoke. I was by the front of the machine checking over the dip-switches. Hooper was the only one around the back of the Bombe. No-one else could have done it.”
“That’s not quite the same as seeing him do it,” Harris remarks.
“Yes, I considered it. He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
“What could I do?” I’m shaking now. The night is cold and the heat-lamp in this hut has been removed, presumably to keep me alert and on edge. “I don’t want to go to prison.”
“You committed a crime,” Harris answers. If I had any sense that he understood my predicament, and that he felt for my state of being, it collapses like a chain with a broken link. “You thought you could repair it with another, more serious crime?” He shakes his head. “I thought you men were supposed to be clever. But this is the action of a frightened woman. So I’d like you to tell me, now. Where is it?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
“Absolutely.”
Harris opens the door and pushes me inside. “Captain,” he calls. “Could I have a moment?”
The Captain, looking puzzled, steps out. The door is closed. Hooper stares at me, open-mouthed, about to say something. I probably have less than a minute before the Captain storms back in and declares this plan to be bunkum.
Morning comes. I’m woken by a rooster calling from the yard behind the House. I must have slept after all. I pull myself up from the bunk, shivering slightly. There is condensation on the inside of the window. I have probably given myself a chill.
The door handle turns and without knocking, Harris comes inside. “You’re up,” he remarks, and then, “You smell like an animal.”
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
I hang back a moment. Something does not seem quite right. After all, Hooper did not steal the component. He has no reason to confess to anything. Perhaps this is another trap?
“Well?” Harris asks. “What are you waiting for? Please don’t tell me you want to confess now as well, I don’t think my head could stand it.”
“You want me to tell you what happened? You’ll be disgusted, I’m quite sure.”
“I can imagine how it starts,” he growls.
“There was a young man, Harris. I met him in the town. A few months ago now. We got to talking - not about work. I said I was an accountant for a firm, just as I was supposed to. Although he seemed to know that wasn’t true. That got me wondering if he wasn’t one of us.”
Harris is not letting me off any more. “You seriously considered that possibility?”
“Explain what you should be doing, do you mean, rather than bullying me? Certainly.” I fold my arms. “I know where your component is because it’s obvious where your component is. That doesn’t mean I took it, just because I can figure out a simple problem, any more than it means I’m a German spy because I can crack their codes.”
“Tell me, then,” he asks. “What’s your theory? You’re a smart fellow - as smart as they come around here, and that’s saying something. What’s your opinion on the missing component? Accident, perhaps? Or do you blame one of the other men? Hooper?”
I open my mouth to disagree, but somehow the words will not come out. It is like Harris has taken a screwdriver to the sides of my jaw. My tongue feels thick and heavy.
“I suppose so,” I reply. “I’ve certainly done things I regret. Things I shouldn’t have done.”
“I see,” Harris answers. “You’ve left yourself open. To pressure. Is that what you’re saying?”
The bunk has a solid metal frame, a blanket, a pillow, nothing more.
“There’s nothing to explain,” I reply stiffly. “I know where your component is because it’s obvious where your component is. That doesn’t mean I took it, just because I can figure out a simple problem, any more than it means I’m a German spy because I can crack their codes.”
“Tell me, then,” he asks. “What’s your theory? You’re a smart fellow - as smart as they come around here, and that’s saying something. What’s your opinion on the missing component? Accident, perhaps? Or do you blame one of the other men? Hooper?”
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
“Yes. Something like that. It’s a very lonely life otherwise. And the work we do - well. It only makes it worse. There’s barely a moment to oneself.”
“That’s how it is in the Service,” Harris answers. “I know you didn’t sign up for it but, well. There’s plenty of other men who didn’t who are serving now, too. Now, go on with your confession.”
That gives me pause, for a moment. I hadn’t thought of it as such. But I suppose that’s what this is. I am about to admit what I did, after all.
“There’s not much else to say. I took the part from Bombe computing device. You seem to know that already. I had to. He was going to expose me if I didn’t.”
“This young man was blackmailing you over your affair?”
I put my ear down to the keyhole, but there’s nothing now. Probably still a guard outside, of course, but they’re keeping mum.
I suppose I do not believe they will hang me. They will lock me up and continue to use my brain, if they can. I wonder what they will tell the world - perhaps that I have taken my own life. That would be simplest. The few who know me would believe it.
Well, then. Not a bad existence, in prison. Removed from temptation. A kind of imposed monasticism, with plenty more problems to solve, and more mysteries to fathom.
I wonder what else I might yet unravel before I’m done?
I wait a few minutes, to be sure Hooper and the Captain will have gone, then try the door. It’s locked, all right. I’m not really one for picking locks. Never tried it. I don’t think I’ll be getting out that way.
The bunk has a solid metal frame, a blanket, a pillow, nothing more.
“Of course I do,” I answer.
The reel went missing from the Bombe this afternoon. The four of us were in the Hut at the time, working on the latest intercept. It was Russell who noticed the machine producing strange results and found the gap in its plugboard. But as to who took it - it could have been any of us.
And indeed, it must have been. The machine had been functioning as normal when we began our calculations. And then, a short few hours later, it was gone. We had to stop. There was nothing more we could do until it was replaced. The part was vital, just as the machine was vital, and so were the contents of the message, still unread twenty four hours later.
“Let’s get straight to the point. Do you have the component?” Harris demands. “Do you know where it is?”
I shift in my seat. “Not really. The boy was a simpleton, obviously. My intellectual inferior. His good opinion meant nothing to be. Harris, please do not misunderstand me. I was simply after his body.”
Harris, to his credit, doesn’t flinch. Well, perhaps not: but he’ll have nightmares of this moment tonight. I’m almost tempted to reach out and try to take his hand to worsen it for him, but I hold back.
“Go on with your confession,” he replies. I shrug.
“There’s not much else to say. I took the part from Bombe computing device. You seem to know that already. I had to. He was going to expose me if I didn’t.”
“This young man was blackmailing you over your affair?”
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
“Right now, I think you take that role, Harris,” I reply coolly.
“Very droll,” he replies. “Let me tell you what happened this morning, and see if it takes the smile off your face. Our men watching Hooper’s tent saw Hooper wake up, get dressed, clamber out of his tent and then remark with surprise as, while looking for his shoes, he stumbled on something just at the entrance of his tent.”
“I don’t know what gives you the right to pick on me. I demand a lawyer.”
“This is time of war,” Harris answers. His tone of voice has fallen down into darkness. “And by God, if I have to shoot you to recover the component or stop it falling into the wrong hands, I will, do you understand me?”
There’s an icy silence. He’s angry at my slippery answers. He waves an impetuous hand across the field table.
“Now, drink your tea and talk.”
“The component?”
“Yes,” Harris replies levelly. “The component that went missing this afternoon. I doubt that you’ve forgotten.”
He’s talking about the missing reel from the Bombe. Russell discovered it this afternoon when the machine began producing strange results. We were all in the Hut when it happened and it had been in place when we sat down to work. The conclusions had been obvious to all four of us immediately, but had gone undiscussed, even after the empty socket was located, the wiring torn on either side.
“Lucky these things are easy to replace,” Russell had remarked, and that had been that. We had stopped work, sent out for a new part to be machined. And drunk our tea and watched each other.
“Come now,” Harris says, quite the reasonable gent. “As I told you. We’re not interviewing everyone. Only you. So. I think you can be a little more forthcoming.”
No. What would be the use? He will be long gone, and the name he told me is no doubt hokum. No: I was alone before in guilt, and I am thus alone again.
Harris put the cuffs around my wrists. “I still have the intercept in my pocket,” I remark. “Wherever we’re going, could I have a pencil?”
He looks me in the eye.
“I’ll give you a stone to chisel notches in the wall. And that’s all the calculations you’ll be doing. And as you sit there, pissing into a bucket and growing a beard down to your toes, you have a think about how a smart man would conduct his illicit affairs. With a bit of due decorum you could have learnt off any squaddie. You scientists.” He drags me up to my feet. “You think you have to re-invent everything.”
With that, he hustles me out of the door and I can’t help thinking that, with a little more strategy, I could still have won the day. But too late now, of course.
“It’s not that bad. I can still fix it.”
Harris shakes his head. “This isn’t a problem to be cracked. This isn’t a puzzle. I’m sorry, but this is bigger than you now. Look. You can go to prison for what you’ve done, or we can change your identity and move you somewhere where your... indiscretions... can’t hurt anyone any more. But right now none of that matters. What happens to you, doesn’t matter. All that matters is where that component is. So I’d like you to tell me, now. Where is it?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
“If you’ll excuse me, Russell. I was about to take a bath.”
“Oh, of course. Well, you’ll hear soon enough. Can hardly hide the fact there’ll only be three of us from now on.”
I wave to him and move away, my thoughts turning to the young man in the village. My lover. My contact. My blackmailer. Hooper may have taken the fall for the missing component, but if it was his recovering it from Hut 2 then I have nothing to sell to save my reputation.
If he didn’t, of course, and Harris was telling the truth about his sudden confession, then I will be able to buy my freedom once and for all.
“For God’s sake,” I answer, voice quivering. “I’m no traitor.”
He stares back at me. “Let’s get straight to the point. Do you have the component?” Harris demands. “Do you know where it is?”
“I can’t remember.”
He draws his gun and lays it lightly on the field table.
“I’m sorry to threaten you, friend. But His Majesty needs that brain of yours, and that brain alone. There are plenty of other parts to you that our country could do better without. Now I’ll ask you again. Did you hide the component?”
“Yes, perhaps. But also to ensure your name goes down in the annals of mathematics. All you have to do is go to the back of Hut 2. There’s a breeze-block with a cavity. That’s where I’ve put it. I’ll be locked up overnight, I should think. But you can pick it up and pass it to my contact. He’ll be at the south fence around two AM.”
“If you think I’ll do that then you’re crazy,” Hooper replies.
At that moment the door flies open and the Captain comes storming back inside.
Harris hustles me over to the barracks. “I hope that’s the end of it,” he mutters as he pushes me up the steps.
“Just be sure to let him out,” I reply. “And then see where he goes.”
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
I have in my head to blame Hooper, but somehow I cannot find a way to tell the story. Whatever they put in my tea, it has control of my tongue. Fighting as hard as I can, it does no good. I find myself collapsing, desperate to tell him everything, almost weeping with the shame of it.
“There was a young man, Harris. I met him in the town. A few months ago now. We got to talking - not about work, you understand. I said I was an accountant for a firm, just as I was supposed to. Although he seemed to know that wasn’t true. That got me wondering if he wasn’t one of us.”
Harris is not letting me off any more. “You seriously considered that possibility?”
I shift in my seat. “Not really. The boy was a simpleton, obviously. My intellectual inferior. His good opinion meant nothing to be. Harris, please do not misunderstand me. I was simply after his body.”
Harris, to his credit, doesn’t flinch. Well, perhaps not: but he’ll have nightmares of this moment tonight. I’m almost tempted to reach out and try to take his hand to worsen it for him, but I hold back.
“Go on with your confession,” he replies. I shrug.
“There’s not much else to say. I took the part from Bombe computing device. You seem to know that already. I had to. He was going to expose me if I didn’t.”
“This young man was blackmailing you over your affair?”
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
Plenty of time for that later. If there is nothing there, then Hooper discovered the component after all and Harris’ men will have swooped on him, and the story about his confession is just a ruse to test me out. And if the component is still there - well. It will be just as valuable to my young man in the village in a week’s time, and his deadline of the 31st is not quite upon us.
I head for my dorm, intent on a bath, breakfast, a glance at the crossword before the other men get to it, and then on with work. They should have replaced the component in the Bombe by now. We will be back to it, only a day behind.
And everything will proceed as before. The component will mean nothing to the Germans - this is the one fact I could never have explained to a man like Harris despite the fact that the principle behind the Bombe is the same as the principle behind an army. The individual pieces - the men, the components - do not matter. They are quite identical. It is how they are arranged that counts. The structures and patterns that they form.
I bump into Russell in the dorm hut. “Did you hear?” he whispers. “Terrible news about Hooper. Absolutely terrible.”
“Yes. Something like that. It’s a very lonely life otherwise. And the work we do - well. It only makes it worse. There’s barely a moment to oneself.”
“That’s how it is in the Service,” Harris answers. “I know you didn’t sign up for it but, well. There’s plenty of other men who didn’t who are serving now, too. Now, go on with your confession.”
That gives me pause, for a moment. I hadn’t thought of it as such. But I suppose that’s what this is. I am about to admit what I did, after all.
“There’s not much else to say. I took the part from Bombe computing device. You seem to know that already. I had to. He was going to expose me if I didn’t.”
“This young man was blackmailing you over your affair?”
“All right.” With a sigh, your defiance collapses."If you’re searched my things then I suppose you’ve found my letters. Haven’t you? In fact, if you haven’t, don’t tell me.
Harris nods once. “I’ve seen the same story a hundred times before,” he says. “A young man like yourself - clever, somewhat removed from the world. The kind that doesn’t go to parties, you might say. Who takes himself a little too seriously, perhaps. Takes things too far. Further than a man should allow a thing to go. That’s the story, isn’t it? You took things too far, and then you couldn’t take them back. And now they have you.”
“Ask the others,” I reply, leaning back. “They’ll tell you. If they haven’t already, that’s only because they’re protecting Hooper. Hoping he’ll come to his senses and stop being an idiot. I hope he does too. And if you lock him up in a freezing hut like you’ve done me, I’m sure he will.”
“We have,” Harris replies simply.
It’s all I can do not to gape.
“Hooper’s in Hut 3 with the Captain, having a similar conversation.”
“No. I have no idea.”
He’s talking about the missing reel from the Bombe. Russell discovered it this afternoon when the machine began producing strange results. We were all in the Hut when it happened and it had been in place when we sat down to work. The conclusions had been obvious to all four of us immediately, but had gone undiscussed, even after the empty socket was located, the wiring torn on either side.
“Lucky these things are easy to replace,” Russell had remarked, and that had been that. We had stopped work, sent out for a new part to be machined. And drunk our tea and watched each other.
“Come now,” Harris says, quite the reasonable gent. “As I told you. We’re not interviewing everyone. Only you. So. I think you can be a little more forthcoming.”
Plenty of time for that later. If there is nothing there, then Hooper discovered the component after all and Harris’ men will have swooped on him, and the story about his confession is just a ruse to test me out. And if the component is still there - well. It will be just as valuable to my young man in the village in a week’s time, and his deadline of the 31st is not quite upon us.
I head for my dorm, intent on a bath, breakfast, a glance at the crossword before the other men get to it, and then on with work. They should have replaced the component in the Bombe by now. We will be back to it, only a day behind.
And everything will proceed as before. The component will mean nothing to the Germans - this is the one fact I could never have explained to a man like Harris despite the fact that the principle behind the Bombe is the same as the principle behind an army. The individual pieces - the men, the components - do not matter. They are quite identical. It is how they are arranged that counts. The structures and patterns that they form.
I bump into Russell in the dorm hut. “Did you hear?” he whispers. “Terrible news about Hooper. Absolutely terrible.”
The bunk has a solid metal frame, a blanket, a pillow, nothing more.
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
“I don’t know what gives you the right to pick on me. I demand a lawyer.”
“This is time of war,” Harris answers. His tone of voice has fallen down into darkness. “And by God, if I have to shoot you to recover the component or stop it falling into the wrong hands, I will, do you understand me?”
There’s an icy silence. He’s angry at my slippery answers. He waves an impetuous hand across the field table.
“Now, drink your tea and talk.”
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
“Yes. Probably under my bunk.”
Harris smiles wryly. “We’ll know that for a fake, then. We’ve looked there already. I don’t mind telling you, this is a disaster, this whole thing. What I want is to find that little bit of mechanical trickery anywhere. I don’t care where. In your luncheon box or under Hooper’s pillow, whatever. Just somewhere, and within the grounds of this place.”
The bunk has a solid metal frame, a blanket, a pillow, nothing more.
It’s no good. Nothing I can do will be any less than obvious - something appearing where something was not there before. The men watching Hooper will know it is a deception and Hooper’s protestations will be taken at face value.
If I can’t find a way for Hooper to pick the component up, as if from a hiding place of his own devising, and be caught doing it, then I have no plan at all.
Next. To Hooper’s dorm. Time to wrap up this little game once and for all.
I creep around the outside of the Huts. All are quiet, steel-grey in the hazy moonlight; a few shining copper from arc-lamps strung from the trees. A few guards patrol the area at night but not many - after all, very few know this place even exists.
Our quarters are arranged away from the House; where we sleep is of less importance than where we work. We each have our own Hut, through some are less permanent than other’s. Hooper’s is a military issue tent: quite a large canopy, with two rooms inside and a short porch area where he insists people leave their shoes. It’s all zipped up for the night and no light shines from inside.
I hang back for a moment. If Harris is keeping to the terms of our deal then someone will be watching this place. But I can see no-one.
“Then you know I’m right. You knew all along. Why did you threaten me?”
“We don’t know anything, except that we have a traitor, holding the fate of the country in their hands. No-one here is in the business of guessing, you know that. Our business is to decode. To get to the bottom of whatever’s going on. You’ve not placed yourself beyond suspicion and until you do so...” Harris shrugs. “I’m afraid I have fewer and fewer choices as time goes on. If that component has left these grounds then every minute is critical.”
“It will. Hooper’s running scared,” I reply, hoping I sound more confident than I feel.
“I think we’ve had enough drama today already,” Harris replies. “Let’s hope for a clean kill.”
He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
“Well, then,” I answer, nervously. “What would he do? Either get rid of it straight away - or if that wasn’t possible, which it probably wouldn’t be, since he’d have to arrange things with his contacts - so most likely, he’d hide it somewhere and wait, until you had the rope around my neck and he could be sure he was safe.”
“Makes sense,” Harris agrees, cautiously. I can see he’s still not certain whether he can trust me. “Which means the question is, what can we do to rat him out?”
I open my mouth to disagree, but somehow the words will not come out. It is like Harris has taken a screwdriver to the sides of my jaw. My tongue feels thick and heavy.
“I suppose so,” I reply. “I’ve certainly done things I regret. Things I shouldn’t have done.”
“I see,” Harris answers. “You’ve left yourself open. To pressure. Is that what you’re saying?”
“I’m no traitor,” I answer smartly.
He stares back at me. “Let’s get straight to the point. Do you have the component?” Harris demands. “Do you know where it is?”
I wait a few minutes, to be sure Hooper and the Captain will have gone, then try the door. It’s locked, all right. I’m not really one for picking locks. Never tried it. I don’t think I’ll be getting out that way.
“It will. Hooper’s running scared,” I reply, hoping I sound more confident than I feel.
“I think we’ve had enough drama today already,” Harris replies. “Let’s hope for a clean kill.”
He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
“I don’t think Hooper could have planned this in advance. So he’d need to get word to whoever he’s working with, and that would take time. So I think he would have hidden it somewhere, and be waiting to make sure I soundly take the fall. That way, if anything goes wrong, he can arrange for the part to be conveniently re-found.”
“Makes sense,” Harris agrees, cautiously. I can see he’s still not certain whether he can trust me. “Which means the question is, what can we do to rat him out?”
I go over to the window and try to jimmy it open. Not much luck, but in my struggling I notice this window only backs on the thin little brook that runs down the back of the compound. Which means, if I smashed it, I might get away with no-one seeing.
They think I’m a traitor. They think I stole the component from the calculating machine. They’re searching my bunk, my bag, the whole barrack right now. Then they’ll come back and demand that I talk.
I’m a problem-solver. Good with figures, quick with crosswords, excellent at chess. But in this situation - in this trap - what is the winning play?
I go over to the window and try to jimmy it open. Not much luck, but in my struggling I notice this window only backs on the thin little brook that runs down the back of the compound. Which means, if I smashed it, I might get away with no-one seeing.
I put my ear down to the keyhole, but there’s nothing now. Probably still a guard outside, of course, but they’re keeping mum.
“I know nothing about it.” My voice is shaking as I try to speak. I’m not accustomed to facing off against the Commander - against any man with a gun in his holster. “I don’t know what gives you the right to pick on me. Shouldn’t I have a lawyer?”
“This is time of war,” Harris answers. His tone of voice has fallen down into darkness. “And by God, if I have to shoot you to recover the component or stop it falling into the wrong hands, I will, do you understand me?”
There’s an icy silence. He’s angry. He waves an impetuous hand across the field table.
“Now, drink your tea and talk.”
“I don’t know.”
“You can do better than that. Remember, there’s a hangman’s noose waiting for traitors.”
If I leave the component here somewhere it should be somewhere I can rely on Hooper finding it, but no-one before Hooper. In particular.
Enough of this. There isn’t any time to lose. Right now they’ll be following Hooper as he goes to bed, and goes to sleep; and then that’s it. The minute he closes his eyelids and drifts off that’s the moment that this trap swings shut on me.
So I punch out the glass with my shoe and it shatters with a terrific noise. Then I stop, and wait, to see if anyone will come in through the door.
Nothing.
I suppose this must be what it feels like to have a conscience, then. Very well.
“Harris, sir. I don’t know what Hooper’s playing at, sir. But I can’t let him do this.”
“Do what?”
“Take the rope for this. I took it, sir.
The missing component of the Bombe computer is hidden in a small cavity in a breeze-block supporting the left rear post of Hut 2. I put in there anticipating a search. I intended to dispose of it once the fuss had died down. I suppose I was foolish to think that it might."
“I thought as much. I hadn’t expected you to give it out so easily, however. You understand, Hooper has said nothing, of course. In fact, he went to Hut 2 directly after we released him and uncovered the component. But he told us you had instructed him where to go. Hence my little double bluff. Frankly, I’ll be glad when I’m shot of the lot of you mathematicians.”
Harris stands, and slips away smartly. Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
I wait a few minutes, to be sure Hooper and the Captain will have gone, then try the door. It’s locked, all right. I’m not really one for picking locks. Never tried it. I don’t think I’ll be getting out that way.
“He has? I knew he would. The worm.”
“Steady now. Matters aren’t over yet. There’s still the issue of the component. It hasn’t turned up. He didn’t lead us to it. I guess he figured you must have had something on him. I don’t know.”
He looks quite put out by the whole affair. He is not the kind of man to deal well with ambiguities and probabilities, far preferred the clarity of fact and falsehood.
“Quite right,” I answer smartly.
He stares back at me. “Let’s get straight to the point. Do you have the component?” Harris demands. “Do you know where it is?”
“All right. I’ll tell you what happened.” And never mind my shame, I think.
“I can imagine how it starts,” he growls.
“There was a young man, Harris. I met him in the town. A few months ago now. We got to talking - not about work, you understand. I said I was an accountant for a firm, just as I was supposed to. Although he seemed to know that wasn’t true. That got me wondering if he wasn’t one of us.”
Harris is not letting me off any more. “You seriously considered that possibility?”
“All right. All right. That’s exactly what happened.”
“Shame,” he remarks. “I should have left that window open and put a guard on you. Might have been interesting to see where you went. Anyway, I’m glad you’re still here, even if you do smell like a dog.”
I hang back a moment. Something does not seem quite right. After all, Hooper did not steal the component. He has no reason to confess to anything. Perhaps this is another trap?
“Well?” Harris asks. “What are you waiting for? Please don’t tell me you want to confess now as well, I don’t think my head could stand it.”
“What could I do?” I’m shaking now. The night is cold and the heat-lamp in this hut has been removed, presumably to keep me alert and on edge. “I don’t want to go to prison.”
“You committed a crime,” Harris answers. If I had any sense that he understood my predicament, and that he felt for my state of being, it collapses like a chain with a broken link. “You thought you could repair it with another, more serious crime?” He shakes his head. “I thought you men were supposed to be clever. But this is the action of a frightened woman. So I’d like you to tell me, now. Where is it?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
“I broke it,” I reply. There doesn’t seem any use in trying to lie. “I thought I could escape. But I couldn’t get myself through.”
The Commander laughs. “Shame,” he remarks. “I should have left that window open and put a guard on you. Might have been interesting to see where you went. Anyway, I’m glad you’re still here, even if you do smell like a dog.”
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
I shift in my seat. “Not really. The boy was a simpleton, obviously. My intellectual inferior. His good opinion meant nothing to be. Harris, please do not misunderstand me. I was simply after his body.”
Harris, to his credit, doesn’t flinch. Well, perhaps not: but he’ll have nightmares of this moment tonight. I’m almost tempted to reach out and try to take his hand to worsen it for him, but I hold back.
“Go on with your confession,” he replies. I shrug.
“There’s not much else to say. I took the part from Bombe computing device. You seem to know that already. I had to. He was going to expose me if I didn’t.”
“This young man was blackmailing you over your affair?”
I wait a few minutes, to be sure Hooper and the Captain will have gone, then try the door. It’s locked, all right. I’m not really one for picking locks. Never tried it. I don’t think I’ll be getting out that way.
Well, then. To Hooper’s dorm. Time to wrap up this little game once and for all.
I creep around the outside of the Huts. All are quiet, steel-grey in the hazy moonlight; a few shining copper from arc-lamps strung from the trees. A few guards patrol the area at night but not many - after all, very few know this place even exists.
Our quarters are arranged away from the House; where we sleep is of less importance than where we work. We each have our own Hut, through some are less permanent than other’s. Hooper’s is a military issue tent: quite a large canopy, with two rooms inside and a short porch area where he insists people leave their shoes. It’s all zipped up for the night and no light shines from inside.
I hang back for a moment. If Harris is keeping to the terms of our deal then someone will be watching this place. But I can see no-one.
Of course not. I am alone; that is what they wanted me to be, because of who and what I love. So I have no nation, no country.
“I’m afraid we have only one option, Manning,” Harris says. “Please, man. Tell us where the component is.”
“You want me to tell you what happened? You’ll be disgusted, I’m quite sure.”
“I can imagine how it starts,” he growls.
“There was a young man, Harris. I met him in the town. A few months ago now. We got to talking - not about work. I said I was an accountant for a firm, just as I was supposed to. Although he seemed to know that wasn’t true. That got me wondering if he wasn’t one of us.”
Harris is not letting me off any more. “You seriously considered that possibility?”
I wait a few minutes, to be sure Hooper and the Captain will have gone, then try the door. It’s locked, all right. I’m not really one for picking locks. Never tried it. I don’t think I’ll be getting out that way.
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
“I can’t remember.”
He draws his gun and lays it lightly on the field table.
“I’m sorry to threaten you, friend. But His Majesty needs that brain of yours, and that brain alone. There are plenty of other parts to you that our country could do better without. Now I’ll ask you again. Did you hide the component?”
The bunk has a solid metal frame, a blanket, a pillow, nothing more.
“You mean he confessed of his own accord? You didn’t catch him?”
“The Captain went back into that hut and he confessed immediately. We were so surprised we didn’t let you go.” He wrinkles his nose. “I’m rather sorry about that now, but I suppose we’ll let you go know. I suggest you have a wash.”
And with that he gestures to the doorway.
I put my ear down to the keyhole, but there’s nothing now. Probably still a guard outside, of course, but they’re keeping mum.
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
I put my ear down to the keyhole, but there’s nothing now. Probably still a guard outside, of course, but they’re keeping mum.
Quickly, I pull it free, and slip it into the pocket of my jacket.
Where now?
“I’m not sure. I was asleep: I woke up when someone broke the window. I looked out to see who it was, but they were already gone.”
Harris looks at me with puzzlement. “Someone came by to break the window, and then ran off? That’s absurd. That’s utterly absurd. Admit it, Manning. You tried to escape and you couldn’t get through.”
It’s no good. That’s only half a solution. I couldn’t be happy with that.
I give no reaction. She sighs to herself, as if this kind of behaviour is normal, and trots away inside the House to begin her duties.
I turn the corner of Hut 3 and walk down the short gravel path to Hut 2. It was a good spot to choose - Hut 2 is where the electricians work, and they’re generally focussed on what they’re doing. They don’t often come outside to smoke a cigarette so it’s easy to slip past the doorway unnoticed.
“No. I have no idea.”
“Come now,” Harris says, quite the reasonable gent. “I think you can be a little more forthcoming.”
I cast around the small room. There’s a bucket in one corner for emergencies - I suppose I could use that. I pick it up but it’s not very easy to heft. And the noise would be terrible. There must be a way of making this easier. I’m supposed to be a thief now. What would a burglar do?
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
“I don’t know.”
“You can do better than that. Remember, there’s a hangman’s noose waiting for traitors.”
“I know nothing about it.” My voice is shaking with anger as I try to speak. I’m not accustomed to facing off against the Commander - against any man with a gun in his holster. “I don’t know what gives you the right to pick on me. I demand a lawyer.”
“This is time of war,” Harris answers. His tone of voice has fallen down into darkness. “And by God, if I have to shoot you to recover the component or stop it falling into the wrong hands, I will, do you understand me?”
There’s an icy silence. He’s angry. He waves an impetuous hand across the field table.
“Now, drink your tea and talk.”
“Yes, I considered it. He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
“I don’t know what gives you the right to pick on me. Shouldn’t I have a lawyer?”
“This is time of war,” Harris answers. His tone of voice has fallen down into darkness. “And by God, if I have to shoot you to recover the component or stop it falling into the wrong hands, I will, do you understand me?”
There’s an icy silence. He’s angry. He waves an impetuous hand across the field table.
“Now, drink your tea and talk.”
I shrug, eloquently.
“This is all too far-fetched,” Harris says. “I’m glad to have this back, but I need to think.”
Getting to his feet, he nods once. “You’ll have to wait a little longer, I’m afraid, Manning.”
Then he steps out of the door, muttering to himself.
“Yes, I considered it. He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
I put my ear to the keyhole but can make out nothing. Are there still guards posted? Perhaps, if Hooper has managed to incriminate himself, the guards have been removed?
Perhaps the door is unlocked and they left me to sleep? I try the handle. No such luck.
The night draws on at its own pace. I suppose by morning I will know my fate.
“Yes, I considered it. He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
I go over to the window and try to jimmy it open. Not much luck, but in my struggling I notice this window only backs on the thin little brook that runs down the back of the compound. Which means, if I smashed it, I might get away with no-one seeing.
From outside, I hear a voice. Hooper’s. He’s haranguing someone, for something.
“Well, then,” I answer, nervously. “What would he do? Either get rid of it straight away - or if that wasn’t possible, which it probably wouldn’t be, since he’d have to arrange things with his contacts - so most likely, he’d hide it somewhere and wait, until you had the rope around my neck and he could be sure he was safe.”
“Makes sense,” Harris agrees, cautiously. I can see he’s still not entirely convinced by my tale, as well he might not be - I’ve hardly been entirely straight with him. “Which means the question is, what can we do to rat him out?”
“Tell Hooper I’ve confessed. In fact, better yet, let him see you march me off in handcuffs. Then let him go, and watch him. Ten to one he’ll go straight to wherever he’s hidden that component and his game will be up.”
Harris nods slowly, chewing over the idea. It isn’t a bad plan even - except, of course, Hooper has not hidden the component, and won’t lead them anywhere. But that’s a problem I might be able to solve once I’m out of this place; and once they’re busy, dogging Hooper’s steps from hut to hut.
“It’s an interesting idea,” the Commander muses. “But I’m not so sure he’ll be that stupid. And if he’s already passed the part on, well, the whole thing will only be a waste of time.”
“I don’t know what gives you the right to pick on me. I demand a lawyer.”
“This is time of war,” Harris answers. His tone of voice has fallen down into darkness. “And by God, if I have to shoot you to recover the component or stop it falling into the wrong hands, I will, do you understand me?”
There’s an icy silence. I’ve cracked him a little at least. He’s angry. He waves an impetuous hand across the field table.
“Now, drink your tea and talk.”
In case I’m being followed, I divert around the perimeter of the compound. It’s a much longer path, and it takes me across some terrain that’s difficult to negotiate in the dark - muddy, and thick with thistles and nestles.
Still, I can be confident no-one is following, as I hear nothing. I crouch down behind the rear wall of Hut 2. The component is still there, wrapped in a tea-towel and shoved into a cavity in a breeze-block at the base of the Hut wall.
I put my ear to the keyhole but can make out nothing. Are there still guards posted? Perhaps, if Hooper has managed to incriminate himself, the guards have been removed?
Perhaps the door is unlocked and they left me to sleep? I try the handle. No such luck.
The night draws on at its own pace. I suppose by morning I will know my fate.
“Well, I’m glad his conscience finally caught up with him,” I reply dismissively.
“The Captain went back into that hut and he confessed immediately. We were so surprised we didn’t let you go.” He wrinkles his nose. “I’m rather sorry about that now, but I suppose we’ll let you go know. I suggest you have a wash.”
And with that he gestures to the doorway.
I put my ear down to the keyhole, but there’s nothing now. Probably still a guard outside, of course, but they’re keeping mum.
I have no God to make peace with. I find it difficult to believe in goodness of any kind, in a world such as this.
But I am no traitor. At least, not to my country. To my sex, perhaps. But how could I support the Reich? If it were to come to power, I would be worse off than under the already dire circumstances of my existence.
In truth, it is men like Harris who are complex, not men like me. I live to make things ordered, systematic. I like my pencils sharpened and lined up in a row. I do not deal in difficult borders, or uncertainties, or alliances. If I could, I would reduce the world to something easier to understand, something finite. But of course, I cannot, not even here, in this little micro-world, this safe haven from the horrors of the war.
I have no place here. No way to fit. I am the intercept - caught, in the middle, cryptic and understood only thinly, through devices and machines.
“I suppose so,” I reply. “I’ve certainly done things I regret. Things I shouldn’t have done.”
“I see,” Harris answers. “You’ve left yourself open. To pressure. Is that what you’re saying?”
“I don’t know.”
“You can do better than that. Remember, there’s a hangman’s noose waiting for traitors.”
“Put me in with Hooper. Maybe I can get something useful out of him. As his colleague.”
Harris shakes his head. “He despises you, doesn’t he? I don’t see why he’d give himself up to you.”
“I’m not saying anything of the sort,” I snap back. “What is this, Harris? You’re accusing me of treachery but I don’t see a shred of evidence for it! Why don’t you put your cards on the table?”
“It’s simple enough,” Harris replies. “I’ve seen the same story a hundred times before,” he says. “A young man like yourself - clever, somewhat removed from the world. The kind that doesn’t go to parties, you might say. Who takes himself a little too seriously, perhaps. Takes things too far. Further than a man should allow a thing to go. That’s the story, isn’t it? You took things too far, and then you couldn’t take them back. And now they have you.”
“Right now, I think you take that role, Harris,” I reply coolly.
“Very droll,” he replies. “Let me tell you what happened this morning, and see if it takes the smile off your face. Our men watching Hooper’s tent saw Hooper wake up, get dressed, clamber out of his tent and then remark with surprise as, while looking for his shoes, he stumbled on something just at the entrance of his tent.”
“I’m looking forward to a long bath,” I reply. “And getting back to work.”
“Well, I’m afraid it is going to get worse for you,” Harris replies soberly. “We followed Hooper, and he took himself neatly to bed and slept like a boy scout. Which puts us back to square one, and you firmly in the frame. And I’m afraid I don’t have time for any more games. I want you to tell me where that component is, or we will hang you as a traitor.”
He passes a hand across his eyes with a long look of despair.
“I’m going to go outside and organise a rope. That’ll take about twelve minutes. That’s how long you have to decide.”
“All right. All right. That’s exactly what happened.”
“Shame,” he remarks. “I should have left that window open and put a guard on you. Might have been interesting to see where you went. Anyway, I’m glad you’re still here, even if you do smell like a dog.”
I put my ear down to the keyhole, but there’s nothing now. Probably still a guard outside, of course, but they’re keeping mum.
“Of course I do,” I answer.
The reel went missing from the Bombe this afternoon. The four of us were in the Hut at the time, working on the latest intercept. It was Russell who noticed the machine producing strange results and found the gap in its plugboard. But as to who took it - it could have been any of us.
And indeed, it must have been. The machine had been functioning as normal when we began our calculations. And then, a short few hours later, it was gone. We had to stop. There was nothing more we could do until it was replaced. The part was vital, just as the machine was vital, and so were the contents of the message, still unread twenty four hours later.
“Let’s get straight to the point. Do you have the component?” Harris demands. “Do you know where it is?”
“All right. I’ll tell you what happened.” And never mind my shame, I think.
“I can imagine how it starts,” he growls.
“There was a young man, Harris. I met him in the town. A few months ago now. We got to talking - not about work, you understand. I said I was an accountant for a firm, just as I was supposed to. Although he seemed to know that wasn’t true. That got me wondering if he wasn’t one of us.”
Harris is not letting me off any more. “You seriously considered that possibility?”
“It’s your problem. Your security breach. So much for your careful vetting process.” I lean back in my chair and fold my arms so the way they shake will not be visible. “You’d better get on with solving it, instead of wasting your time in here with me.”
Harris harrumphs. He’s thinking it all over.
“Only that this process is unreasonable, and I believe you’re behaving like a swine.”
“You imbecile,” Harris replies, with sudden force. He is half out of his chair. “You know the situation as well as I do, so why all this fencing? The Hun are poised like rats, ready to run all over this country. They’ll destroy everything, you do understand that, don’t you? You’re not so locked up inside your crossword puzzles that you don’t see that, are you? And this machine we have here - you men - you are the best and only hope this country has. God help her.”
I sit back, startled by the force of his outburst. His carefully sculpted expression has curled to angry disgust and there is spit flecking his lips. He really does hate me, I think. He’ll have my neck just for the taste of it.
“I’m sure you’ve handled worse,” I reply casually, looking him straight in the eye.
His gaze is unexpressive: I’ve seen Harris broad and full of laughter, but today he is rigid, as much part of the military machine as the devices in Hut 5.
“There really isn’t any time to be wasted,” he says. “But you know why you’re here, of course.”
The bucket? Hardly. The bucket might do some good if I wanted to sweep up the glass afterwards, but it won’t help me smash the glass quietly.
“For God’s sake,” I answer, voice quivering. “I’m no traitor.”
He stares back at me. “Let’s get straight to the point. Do you have the component?” Harris demands. “Do you know where it is?”
There is nothing I can do to speed up time. The night draws on at its own pace. I suppose by morning I will know my fate.
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
“I know nothing about it.” My voice is shaking as I try to speak. I’m not accustomed to facing off against the Commander - against any man with a gun in his holster. “I don’t know what gives you the right to pick on me. Shouldn’t I have a lawyer?”
“This is time of war,” Harris answers. His tone of voice has fallen down into darkness. “And by God, if I have to shoot you to recover the component or stop it falling into the wrong hands, I will, do you understand me?”
There’s an icy silence. He’s angry at my slippery answers. He waves an impetuous hand across the field table.
“Now, drink your tea and talk.”
“Try me. Just me and him.”
“Alone?”
“Alone.”
Harris considers it. I watch his eyes, flicking backwards and forwards over mine, like a ribbon-reader trying to load in its program.
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
“I was quite certain, after a while. After we’d been talking. He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
“Yes.”
Harris stares back at me.
“I see.” There’s a long pause, like the endless delay between feeding in a line of cypher to the Bombe and waiting for its valves and cylinders to heat up enough to being processing. “Would you like to explain?”
“I can imagine how being surrounded by clever men is pretty threatening for you, Commander,” I reply with a sneer. “They don’t train you to think in the Armed Forces.”
“Talk,” Harris demands. “Talk, now. Tell me where you’ve hidden it or who you’ve passed it to. Or God help me, but I’ll take your wretched pansy body to pieces looking for it, do you understand me?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
The blanket. Perfect. I scoop it up off the bed and hold it in place over the window. This should do it. Then I heft my shoe by its toe, and take a strong swing, trying to imagine it’s Harris’ face on the other side.
The sound of the impact is muffled. With my arm still covered, I sweep out the remaining glass in the frame. I’m ready to escape. The only trouble is - when they look in on me in the morning, there will be no question what has happened. It won’t help me one jot with shifting suspicion off my back.
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
“I don’t think Hooper could have planned this in advance. So he’d need to get word to whoever he’s working with, and that would take time. So I think he would have hidden it somewhere, and be waiting to make sure I soundly take the fall. That way, if anything goes wrong, he can arrange for the part to be conveniently re-found.”
“Makes sense,” Harris agrees, cautiously. I can see he’s still not certain whether he can trust me. “Which means the question is, what can we do to rat him out?”
“If I wanted to escape, I would have made damn sure that I could,” I tell him sternly.
“Well, I’m afraid it is going to get worse for you,” Harris replies soberly. “We followed Hooper, and he took himself neatly to bed and slept like a boy scout. Which puts us back to square one, and you firmly in the frame. And I’m afraid I don’t have time for any more games. I want you to tell me where that component is, or we will hang you as a traitor.”
He passes a hand across his eyes with a long look of despair.
“I’m going to go outside and organise a rope. That’ll take about twelve minutes. That’s how long you have to decide.”
“The Captain thought it was a good scheme. You’ll most likely get a promotion.”
“Let’s hope things work out,” Harris agrees darkly.
He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
Morning comes slowly, but I must fall asleep at some point, because the next thing I know the rooster is calling and a cool, fresh breeze is blowing through the open window. I barely have time to wipe the sleep from my eyes and brush myself down before the door opens and Harris enters.
He takes one look around, and sighs, a deep, wistful sigh.
“Things just get worse and worse for you, Manning,” he remarks. “You are your own worst enemy.”
“All right.” With a sigh, your defiance collapses."If you’re searched my things then I suppose you’ve found my letters. Haven’t you? In fact, if you haven’t, don’t tell me.
Harris nods once. “I’ve seen the same story a hundred times before,” he says. “A young man like yourself - clever, somewhat removed from the world. The kind that doesn’t go to parties, you might say. Who takes himself a little too seriously, perhaps. Takes things too far. Further than a man should allow a thing to go. That’s the story, isn’t it? You took things too far, and then you couldn’t take them back. And now they have you.”
“This proves nothing,” I reply stubbornly. “You still don’t have the component and without it, I don’t see what you can hope to prove.”
“Be quiet, man. We know all about your and your sordid affairs.” The Captain curls his lip. “Don’t you know there’s a war on? Do you know the kind of place they would have sent you if it haven’t had been for that brain of yours? Don’t you think you owe it to your country to use it a little more?”
Do I, I wonder? Do I owe this country anything, this country that has spurned who and what am I since the day I became a man?
“An accident, naturally.” I risk a smile. “That damned machine, Harris; it’s made from spare parts and string. Even these huts leak when it rains. It wouldn’t take more than one fellow to trip over a cable to shake out a component and have it roll away across the floor. Have you tried looking under the thing?”
Harris doesn’t smile. “Do you suppose we haven’t? Do you supposed we haven’t combed every inch of this place already?”
In a sudden moment I understand that his reply is a threat.
“Now,” he continues. “Are you sure there isn’t anything you want to tell me?”
“Very well then.” I swallow nervously, to make it look more genuine. “No. I passed it on to Hooper.”
“I see. And what did he do with it?”
“Try me. Just me and him.”
“Alone?”
“Alone.”
Harris considers it. I watch his eyes, flicking backwards and forwards over mine, like a ribbon-reader trying to load in its program.
I hang back a moment. Something does not seem quite right. After all, Hooper did not steal the component. He has no reason to confess to anything. Perhaps this is another trap?
“Well?” Harris asks. “What are you waiting for? Please don’t tell me you want to confess now as well, I don’t think my head could stand it.”
Ah, but of course! I slip off one shoe and heft it by the toe. The heel will make a decent enough hammer, if I give it enough wallop.
But I’ll cut my hand to ribbons doing it. And the noise would be terrible. There must be a way of making this easier. I’m supposed to be a thief now. What would a burglar do?
Well, then. To Hooper’s dorm. Time to wrap up this little game once and for all.
I creep around the outside of the Huts. All are quiet, steel-grey in the hazy moonlight; a few shining copper from arc-lamps strung from the trees. A few guards patrol the area at night but not many - after all, very few know this place even exists.
Our quarters are arranged away from the House; where we sleep is of less importance than where we work. We each have our own Hut, through some are less permanent than other’s. Hooper’s is a military issue tent: quite a large canopy, with two rooms inside and a short porch area where he insists people leave their shoes. It’s all zipped up for the night and no light shines from inside.
I hang back for a moment. If Harris is keeping to the terms of our deal then someone will be watching this place. But I can see no-one.
“Quite right,” I answer smartly.
He stares back at me. “Let’s get straight to the point. Do you have the component?” Harris demands. “Do you know where it is?”
“I don’t know what gives you the right to pick on me. I demand a lawyer.”
“This is time of war,” Harris answers. His tone of voice has fallen down into darkness. “And by God, if I have to shoot you to recover the component or stop it falling into the wrong hands, I will, do you understand me?”
There’s an icy silence. I’ve cracked him a little at least. He’s angry. He waves an impetuous hand across the field table.
“Now, drink your tea and talk.”
“Yes, I considered it. He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
I go over to the window and try to jimmy it open. Not much luck, but in my struggling I notice this window only backs on the thin little brook that runs down the back of the compound. Which means, if I smashed it, I might get away with no-one seeing.
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
I creep forward to the tent, intent on lifting the zip to the front porch area just a little - enough to slip the component inside, and without the risk of the noise waking Hooper from his snoring.
The work is careful, and more than little fiddly - Hooper has tied the zips down on the inside, the fastidious little bastard! - but after a little work I manage to make a hole large enough for my hand.
There’s no time to lose. Throwing caution to the wind I make my way quickly to Hut 2, and around the back. I don’t think I’ve been followed, or seen but if I have, it’s too late. My actions are suspicious enough for anyone’s noose. I have no choice but to follow through.
The component is still there, wrapped in a tea-towel and shoved into a cavity in a breeze-block at the base of the Hut wall.
I open my mouth to disagree, but somehow the words will not come out. It is like Harris has taken a screwdriver to the sides of my jaw. My tongue feels thick and heavy.
“I suppose so,” I reply. “I’ve certainly done things I regret. Things I shouldn’t have done.”
“I see,” Harris answers. “You’ve left yourself open. To pressure. Is that what you’re saying?”
“Someone threw this in through the window over night,” I reply, and open my jacket to reveal the component from the Bombe. “I couldn’t see who, it was too dark. But I know what it is.”
He reaches out and takes it. “Well, I’ll be damned,” he murmurs. “That’s it all right. And you didn’t have it on you when we put you in here. But it can’t have been Hooper - I had men watching him all night. And there’s no-one else it could have been.”
He turns the component over in his hands, bemused.
I have no God to make peace with. I find it difficult to believe in goodness of any kind, in a world such as this.
But I am no traitor. At least, not to my country. To my sex, perhaps. But how could I support the Reich? If it were to come to power, I would be worse off than under the already dire circumstances of my existence.
I have no place here. No way to fit. I am the intercept - caught, in the middle, cryptic and understood only thinly, through devices and machines.
I wait a few minutes, to be sure Hooper and the Captain will have gone, then try the door. It’s locked, all right. I’m not really one for picking locks. Never tried it. I don’t think I’ll be getting out that way.
“I imagine I’ll smell worse after another couple of days of this.”
“That won’t be necessary. We found the missing component. Or rather, Hooper found it for us. He snuck out of his tent first thing in the morning and retrieved it from on top. Of all the damnest places - you would never have known it was there. He acted all surprised about it when we jumped him, of course, as you might expect - but it was good enough for me.”
“I am what I am,” I reply. “I’m the way nature made me. But they’re going to hang me unless you help me, Hooper. Don’t let them hang me.”
“Assuming I wanted to help you,” he replies, carefully. “Which I don’t. What would I do?”
“Nothing. Almost nothing.
All you have to do is go to the back of Hut 2. There’s a breeze-block with a cavity. That’s where I’ve put it. I’ll be locked up overnight, I should think. But you can pick it up and pass it to my contact. He’ll be at the south fence around two AM."
“If you think I’ll do that then you’re crazy,” Hooper replies.
At that moment the door flies open and the Captain comes storming back inside.
Harris hustles me over to the barracks. “I hope that’s the end of it,” he mutters as he pushes me up the steps.
“Just be sure to let him out,” I reply. “And then see where he goes.”
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
“No. Not for more than a moment, of course. Everyone here is marked out by how little we would be willing to say about it.”
“Only you told this young man more than a little, didn’t you?”
I nod. “He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
I go over to the window and try to jimmy it open. Not much luck, but in my struggling I notice this window only backs on the thin little brook that runs down the back of the compound. Which means, if I smashed it, I might get away with no-one seeing.
From outside, I hear a voice. Hooper’s. He’s haranguing someone, for something.
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
“It’s not that bad. I can still fix it.”
Harris shakes his head. “This isn’t a problem to be cracked. This isn’t a puzzle. I’m sorry, but this is bigger than you now. Look. You can go to prison for what you’ve done, or we can change your identity and move you somewhere where your... indiscretions... can’t hurt anyone any more. But right now none of that matters. What happens to you, doesn’t matter. All that matters is where that component is. So I’d like you to tell me, now. Where is it?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
I have in my head to blame Hooper, but somehow I cannot find a way to tell the story. Whatever they put in my tea, it has control of my tongue. Fighting as hard as I can, it does no good. I find myself collapsing, desperate to tell him everything, almost weeping with the shame of it.
“There was a young man, Harris. I met him in the town. A few months ago now. We got to talking - not about work, you understand. I said I was an accountant for a firm, just as I was supposed to. Although he seemed to know that wasn’t true. That got me wondering if he wasn’t one of us.”
Harris is not letting me off any more. “You seriously considered that possibility?”
“No. I have no idea.”
He’s talking about the missing reel from the Bombe. Russell discovered it this afternoon when the machine began producing strange results. We were all in the Hut when it happened and it had been in place when we sat down to work. The conclusions had been obvious to all four of us immediately, but had gone undiscussed, even after the empty socket was located, the wiring torn on either side.
“Lucky these things are easy to replace,” Russell had remarked, and that had been that. We had stopped work, sent out for a new part to be machined. And drunk our tea and watched each other.
“Come now,” Harris says, quite the reasonable gent. “As I told you. We’re not interviewing everyone. Only you. So. I think you can be a little more forthcoming.”
The rest of the night passes slowly. I sleep a little, dozing mostly. Then I’m woken by the rooster in the yard. The door opens, and Harris comes in. He takes one look at the broken window and frowns with puzzlement.
“What happened there?”
I pause a moment, trying to choose my words. To just come out and say it, after a lifetime of hiding... I wouldn’t know how. To put it into words, bluntly and directly: that is a circle I cannot square.
“I’ve done things,” I begin, uncomfortably. “I didn’t want to. I tried not to. But in the end, you understand. I had to. It felt like cutting off my own arm not to. Things I know I shouldn’t have. Things I perhaps regret.”
“I see,” Harris answers. “You’ve left yourself open. To pressure. Is that what you’re saying?”
I have no God to make peace with. I find it difficult to believe in goodness of any kind, in a world such as this.
But I am no traitor. At least, not to my country. To my sex, perhaps. But how could I support the Reich? If it were to come to power, I would be worse off than under the already dire circumstances of my existence.
In truth, it is men like Harris who are complex, not men like me. I live to make things ordered, systematic. I like my pencils sharpened and lined up in a row. I do not deal in difficult borders, or uncertainties, or alliances. If I could, I would reduce the world to something easier to understand, something finite. But of course, I cannot, not even here, in this little micro-world, this safe haven from the horrors of the war.
I have no place here. No way to fit. I am the intercept - caught, in the middle, cryptic and understood only thinly, through devices and machines.
I head on around the back of the hut. The breeze-block with the cavity is on the left side.
I peer out of the window, but it looks out onto the little brook at the back of the compound, with no view of the other huts or the House. Who knows if there are men up, searching the base of Hut 2, following one another with flashlights...
The night draws on at its own pace. I suppose by morning I will know my fate.
“I don’t think Hooper could have planned this in advance. So he’d need to get word to whoever he’s working with, and that would take time. So I think he would have hidden it somewhere, and be waiting to make sure I soundly take the fall. That way, if anything goes wrong, he can arrange for the part to be conveniently re-found.”
“Makes sense,” Harris agrees, cautiously. I can see he’s still not certain whether he can trust me. “Which means the question is, what can we do to rat him out?”
I wait a few minutes, to be sure Hooper and the Captain will have gone, then try the door. It’s locked, all right. I’m not really one for picking locks. Never tried it. I don’t think I’ll be getting out that way.
“I’m no traitor, damn it. You know I’m not. How much work have I done here? Against the Germans? Cracking their codes? Understanding their secrets? I’ve given it my all! And you know as well as I do, if the Reich were to invade, I would be a dead man for being what I am. So please, Hooper. I’m not doing any of this lightly. But I’m in a jam!”
“Assuming I wanted to help you,” he replies, carefully. “Which I don’t. What would I do?”
“Nothing. Almost nothing.
All you have to do is go to the back of Hut 2. There’s a breeze-block with a cavity. That’s where I’ve put it. I’ll be locked up overnight, I should think. But you can pick it up and pass it to my contact. He’ll be at the south fence around two AM."
“If you think I’ll do that then you’re crazy,” Hooper replies.
At that moment the door flies open and the Captain comes storming back inside.
Harris hustles me over to the barracks. “I hope that’s the end of it,” he mutters as he pushes me up the steps.
“Just be sure to let him out,” I reply. “And then see where he goes.”
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
“The component?”
“Yes,” Harris replies levelly. “The component.”
“Well, as soon as it went missing the machine started to malfunction. We recognised the discrepancies in our results straight away...”
“Come now,” Harris says, quite the reasonable gent. “I think you can be a little more forthcoming.”
“Quite right,” I answer smartly.
He stares back at me. “Let’s get straight to the point. Do you have the component?” Harris demands. “Do you know where it is?”
“I can imagine how being surrounded by clever men is pretty threatening for you, Commander,” I reply with a sneer. “They don’t train you to think in the Armed Forces.”
“Talk,” Harris demands. “Talk, now. Tell me where you’ve hidden it or who you’ve passed it to. Or God help me, but I’ll take your wretched pansy body to pieces looking for it, do you understand me?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
I wait a few minutes, to be sure Hooper and the Captain will have gone, then try the door. It’s locked, all right. I’m not really one for picking locks. Never tried it. I don’t think I’ll be getting out that way.
I hang back a moment. Something does not seem quite right. After all, Hooper did not steal the component. He has no reason to confess to anything. Perhaps this is another trap?
“Well?” Harris asks. “What are you waiting for? Please don’t tell me you want to confess now as well, I don’t think my head could stand it.”
I settle down to wait.
Night falls. The clockwork of the heavens keeps turning, whatever state I might be in. No-one can steal the components that make the sun go down and the stars come out. I watch it performing its operations. I can’t sleep.
Has Hooper taken my bait?
“None of us are blameless, Harris. But you’re not my priest and I’m not yours. Now, please. Let me go. I’ll help you find this damn component, of course I will.”
He appears to consider the offer.
“Tell me, then,” he asks. “What’s your theory? You’re a smart fellow - as smart as they come around here, and that’s saying something. What’s your opinion on the missing component? Accident, perhaps? Or do you blame one of the other men?”
The bunk has a solid metal frame, a blanket, a pillow, nothing more.
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
I slip off my jacket and hold it with one hand over the glass. This should do it. Then I heft the bucket - this really is quite a fiddly thing to be doing, and I need far longer arms, especially in cuffs - and take a strong swing, trying to imagine it’s Harris’ face on the other side.
The sound of the impact is muffled. With my arm still covered, I sweep out the remaining glass in the frame. I’m ready to escape. The only trouble is - when they look in on me in the morning, there will be no question what has happened. It won’t help me one jot with shifting suspicion off my back.
“I’m not sure. I was asleep: I woke up when someone broke the window. I looked out to see who it was, but they were already gone.”
Harris looks at me with puzzlement. “Someone came by to break the window, and then ran off? That’s absurd. That’s utterly absurd. Admit it, Manning. You tried to escape and you couldn’t get through.”
“I’m sure I saw him this evening, talking to someone by the fence on the woodland side of the compound. He’s probably passed it on already. You’ll have to ask him.”
Harris harrumphs. He’s thinking it all over.
I settle down to wait.
Night falls. The clockwork of the heavens keeps turning, whatever state I might be in. No-one can steal the components that make the sun go down and the stars come out. I watch it performing its operations. I can’t sleep.
I have a single moment to shout something to Hooper before the door closes.
“I’ll get you Hooper, you’ll see!” I cry. Then:
“Yes. Something like that. It’s a very lonely life otherwise. And the work we do - well. It only makes it worse. There’s barely a moment to oneself.”
“That’s how it is in the Service,” Harris answers. “I know you didn’t sign up for it but, well. There’s plenty of other men who didn’t who are serving now, too. Now, go on with your confession.”
That gives me pause, for a moment. I hadn’t thought of it as such. But I suppose that’s what this is. I am about to admit what I did, after all.
“There’s not much else to say. I took the part from Bombe computing device. You seem to know that already. I had to. He was going to expose me if I didn’t.”
“This young man was blackmailing you over your affair?”
Well, then. To Hooper’s dorm. Time to wrap up this little game once and for all.
I creep around the outside of the Huts. All are quiet, steel-grey in the hazy moonlight; a few shining copper from arc-lamps strung from the trees. A few guards patrol the area at night but not many - after all, very few know this place even exists.
Our quarters are arranged away from the House; where we sleep is of less importance than where we work. We each have our own Hut, through some are less permanent than other’s. Hooper’s is a military issue tent: quite a large canopy, with two rooms inside and a short porch area where he insists people leave their shoes. It’s all zipped up for the night and no light shines from inside.
I hang back for a moment. If Harris is keeping to the terms of our deal then someone will be watching this place. But I can see no-one.
“It will. Hooper’s running scared,” I reply, hoping I sound more confident than I feel.
“I think we’ve had enough drama today already,” Harris replies. “Let’s hope for a clean kill.”
He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
It’s no good. That’s only half a solution. I couldn’t be happy with that.
There’s no time to lose. Throwing caution to the wind I make my way quickly to Hut 2, and around the back. I don’t think I’ve been followed, or seen but if I have, it’s too late. My actions are suspicious enough for anyone’s noose. I have no choice but to follow through.
The component is still there, wrapped in a tea-towel and shoved into a cavity in a breeze-block at the base of the Hut wall.
I pause a moment, trying to choose my words. To just come out and say it, after a lifetime of hiding... I wouldn’t know how. To put it into words, bluntly and directly: that is a circle I cannot square.
“I’ve done things,” I begin, uncomfortably. “I didn’t want to. I tried not to. But in the end, you understand. I had to. It felt like cutting off my own arm not to. Things I know I shouldn’t have. Things I perhaps regret.”
“I see,” Harris answers. “You’ve left yourself open. To pressure. Is that what you’re saying?”
I suppose my fist would do a good enough job. But I’d cut myself to ribbons, most likely. And the noise would be terrible. There must be a way of making this easier. I’m supposed to be a thief now. What would a burglar do?
The rest of the night passes slowly. I sleep a little, dozing mostly. Then I’m woken by the rooster in the yard. The door opens, and Harris comes in. He takes one look at the broken window and frowns with puzzlement.
“What happened there?”
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
There is nothing I can do to speed up time. The night draws on at its own pace. I suppose by morning I will know my fate.
“So would you after the night I’ve had.”
“Well, I’m afraid it is going to get worse for you,” Harris replies soberly. “We followed Hooper, and he took himself neatly to bed and slept like a boy scout. Which puts us back to square one, and you firmly in the frame. And I’m afraid I don’t have time for any more games. I want you to tell me where that component is, or we will hang you as a traitor.”
He passes a hand across his eyes with a long look of despair.
“I’m going to go outside and organise a rope. That’ll take about twelve minutes. That’s how long you have to decide.”
The bunk has a solid metal frame, a blanket, a pillow, nothing more.
“It’s not that bad. I can still fix it.”
Harris shakes his head. “This isn’t a problem to be cracked. This isn’t a puzzle. I’m sorry, but this is bigger than you now. Look. You can go to prison for what you’ve done, or we can change your identity and move you somewhere where your... indiscretions... can’t hurt anyone any more. But right now none of that matters. What happens to you, doesn’t matter. All that matters is where that component is. So I’d like you to tell me, now. Where is it?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
I peer out of the window, but it looks out onto the little brook at the back of the compound, with no view of the other huts or the House. Who knows if there are men up, searching the base of Hut 2, following one another with flashlights...
Perhaps Hooper is there, in the dark, trying to help me after all?
The night draws on at its own pace. I suppose by morning I will know my fate.
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
That is Harris returning. Our little computation here is complete.
That is the true secret of the calculating engine, and the source of its power: not in the components themselves, but in how they are wired together. The diversity of patterns and structures they can form. Much like people - it is how they connect that determines our victories and tragedies, and not their genius.
Which makes me wonder. Should I give up my beautiful young man to them as well as myself?
“Yes, perhaps. But also to ensure your name goes down in the annals of mathematics. All you have to do is go to the back of Hut 2. There’s a breeze-block with a cavity. That’s where I’ve put it. I’ll be locked up overnight, I should think. But you can pick it up and pass it to my contact. He’ll be at the south fence around two AM.”
“If you think I’ll do that then you’re crazy,” Hooper replies.
At that moment the door flies open and the Captain comes storming back inside.
Harris hustles me over to the barracks. “I hope that’s the end of it,” he mutters as he pushes me up the steps.
“Just be sure to let him out,” I reply. “And then see where he goes.”
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
I pause for a moment longer. It doesn’t do to be too careless...
Then the door locks turns. The door opens. Then Jeremy - one of the guards, rather - sticks his head through the door. “I thought I heard...”
He stops. Looks for a moment. Sees the broken window. Then without a moment’s further thought he blows his shrill whistles and hustles into the hut, grabbing me roughly by my arms.
I’ll never know if I hadn’t have waited that extra moment - maybe I still could have got away. But, how far?
I’m hustled into one of the huts. Nowhere to sleep, but they’re not interested in my comfort any longer. Harris comes in with the Captain.
“So,” Harris remarks. “Looks like your little trap worked. Only it worked to show you out for what you are.”
“I don’t know what gives you the right to pick on me. Shouldn’t I have a lawyer?”
“This is time of war,” Harris answers. His tone of voice has fallen down into darkness. “And by God, if I have to shoot you to recover the component or stop it falling into the wrong hands, I will, do you understand me?”
There’s an icy silence. He’s angry. He waves an impetuous hand across the field table.
“Now, drink your tea and talk.”
“That’s exactly it,” I say quietly. “Harris. You understand. There are some things... which can get a man into a lot of trouble. Things one shouldn’t do.”
Harris, to his credit, doesn’t stiffen. He doesn’t lean away, or remove his hands from the table-top as though my condition might be infectious. I thought they trained them in the army to shoot my kind on sight but he does not.
Of course, he does not offer any sympathy either. He only nods, once. The understanding that has passed between us here is a mere turning cog in his calculations, with no meaning or righteousness to it.
“I’ve seen the same story a hundred times before,” he says. “A young man like yourself - clever, somewhat removed from the world. The kind that doesn’t go to parties, you might say. Who takes himself a little too seriously, perhaps. Takes things too far. Further than a man should allow a thing to go. That’s the story, isn’t it? You took things too far, and then you couldn’t take them back. And now they have you.”
“The component?”
“Yes,” Harris replies levelly. “The component.”
“Well, as soon as it went missing the machine started to malfunction. We recognised the discrepancies in our results straight away...”
“Come now,” Harris says, quite the reasonable gent. “I think you can be a little more forthcoming.”
I have no God to make peace with. I find it difficult to believe in goodness of any kind, in a world such as this.
But I am no traitor. At least, not to my country. To my sex, perhaps. But how could I support the Reich? If it were to come to power, I would be worse off than under the already dire circumstances of my existence.
I have no place here. No way to fit. I am the intercept - caught, in the middle, cryptic and understood only thinly, through devices and machines.
I go over to the window and try to jimmy it open. Not much luck, but in my struggling I notice this window only backs on the thin little brook that runs down the back of the compound. Which means, if I smashed it, I might get away with no-one seeing.
From outside, I hear a voice. Hooper’s. He’s haranguing someone, for something.
“Only that this process is unreasonable, and I believe you’re behaving like a swine.”
“You imbecile,” Harris replies, with sudden force. He is half out of his chair. “You know the situation as well as I do, so why all this fencing? The Hun are poised like rats, ready to run all over this country. They’ll destroy everything, you do understand that, don’t you? You’re not so locked up inside your crossword puzzles that you don’t see that, are you? And this machine we have here - you men - you are the best and only hope this country has. God help her.”
I sit back, startled by the force of his outburst. His carefully sculpted expression has curled to angry disgust and there is spit flecking his lips. He really does hate me, I think. He’ll have my neck just for the taste of it.
“Oh, yes?”
“Yes. For what that’s worth. There’s still the issue of the component. It hasn’t turned up. He didn’t lead us to it. I guess he figured you must have had something on him. I don’t know.”
He looks quite put out by the whole affair. He is not the kind of man to deal well with ambiguities and probabilities, far preferred the clarity of fact and falsehood.
“That’s exactly it,” I say quietly. “Harris. You understand. There are some things... which can get a man into a lot of trouble. Things one shouldn’t do.”
Harris, to his credit, doesn’t stiffen. He doesn’t lean away, or remove his hands from the table-top as though my condition might be infectious. I thought they trained them in the army to shoot my kind on sight but he does not.
Of course, he does not offer any sympathy either. He only nods, once. The understanding that has passed between us here is a mere turning cog in his calculations, with no meaning or righteousness to it.
“I’ve seen the same story a hundred times before,” he says. “A young man like yourself - clever, somewhat removed from the world. The kind that doesn’t go to parties, you might say. Who takes himself a little too seriously, perhaps. Takes things too far. Further than a man should allow a thing to go. That’s the story, isn’t it? You took things too far, and then you couldn’t take them back. And now they have you.”
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
I have no God to make peace with. I find it difficult to believe in goodness of any kind, in a world such as this.
But I am no traitor. At least, not to my country. To my sex, perhaps. But how could I support the Reich? If it were to come to power, I would be worse off than under the already dire circumstances of my existence.
I have no place here. No way to fit. I am the intercept - caught, in the middle, cryptic and understood only thinly, through devices and machines.
I slide the component into the tent, work the zip closed, and move quickly away into the shadows. It takes a few minutes for my breath to slow, and my heart to stop hammering, but I see no other movement. If anyone is watching Hooper’s tent, they are asleep at their posts.
Satisfied, I return the short way up the paths between the huts to the barrack block and the broken window.
It’s a little harder getting back through - the window is higher off the ground than the floor inside - but after a decent bit of jumping and hauling I manage to get my elbows up, and then one leg, and finally I collapse inside, quite winded and out breath.
“I’m not sure. I was asleep: I woke up when someone broke the window. I looked out to see who it was, but they were already gone.”
Harris looks at me with puzzlement. “Someone came by to break the window, and then ran off? That’s absurd. That’s utterly absurd. Admit it, Manning. You tried to escape and you couldn’t get through.”
“Yes. Probably under my bunk.”
Harris smiles wryly. “We’ll know that for a fake, then. We’ve looked there already. I don’t mind telling you, this is a disaster, this whole thing. What I want is to find that little bit of mechanical trickery anywhere. I don’t care where. In your luncheon box or under Hooper’s pillow, whatever. Just somewhere, and within the grounds of this place.”
I slip off my jacket and hold it with one hand over the glass. This should do it. Then I heft back my arm, and take a strong swing, trying to imagine it’s Harris’ face on the other side.
The sound of the impact is muffled. With my arm still covered, I sweep out the remaining glass in the frame. I’m ready to escape. The only trouble is - when they look in on me in the morning, there will be no question what has happened. It won’t help me one jot with shifting suspicion off my back.
“All right,” he declares, gruffly. “We’ll try it. But if this doesn’t work, I might just put the both of you in front of a firing squad and be done with these games. Worse things happen in time of war, you know.”
“Alone,” I add.
“Alone?”
“Alone.”
Harris considers it. I watch his eyes, flicking backwards and forwards over mine, like a ribbon-reader trying to load in its program.
Work carefully? It’s difficult to work carefully when all one’s has is a shoe.
“The Captain thought it was a good scheme. You’ll most likely get a promotion.”
“Let’s hope things work out,” Harris agrees darkly.
He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
Well, then. To Hooper’s dorm. Time to wrap up this little game once and for all.
I creep around the outside of the Huts. All are quiet, steel-grey in the hazy moonlight; a few shining copper from arc-lamps strung from the trees. A few guards patrol the area at night but not many - after all, very few know this place even exists.
Our quarters are arranged away from the House; where we sleep is of less importance than where we work. We each have our own Hut, through some are less permanent than other’s. Hooper’s is a military issue tent: quite a large canopy, with two rooms inside and a short porch area where he insists people leave their shoes. It’s all zipped up for the night and no light shines from inside.
I hang back for a moment. If Harris is keeping to the terms of our deal then someone will be watching this place. But I can see no-one.
The bucket? Hardly. The bucket might do some good if I wanted to sweep up the glass afterwards, but it won’t help me smash the glass quietly.
“Yes.”
Harris smiles with satisfaction, as if your willingness to talk was somehow a result of his clever techniques.
“I see.” There’s a long pause, like the endless delay between feeding in a line of cypher to the Bombe and waiting for its valves and cylinders to heat up enough to being processing. “Would you like to explain?”
“All right,” he declares, gruffly. “We’ll try it. But if this doesn’t work, I might just put the both of you in front of a firing squad and be done with these games. Worse things happen in time of war, you know.”
“Alone,” I add.
“Alone?”
“Alone.”
Harris considers it. I watch his eyes, flicking backwards and forwards over mine, like a ribbon-reader trying to load in its program.
“We’ll fool him. He’s waiting to be sure that I’ve been strung up for this, so let’s give him what he wants. If he sees me taken away, clapped in irons - he’ll go straight to that component and set about getting rid of it.”
Harris gets to his feet. “All right,” he says. “I should no better than to trust a clever man, but we’ll give it a go.” Then, he smiles, with all his teeth, like a wolf. “Hooper’s in Hut 3 being debriefed by the Captain. Let’s see if we can’t get his attention somehow.”
He raps on the door for the guard and gives the man a quick instruction. He returns a moment later with a cool pair of iron cuffs.
“Put ‘em up,” Harris instructs, and I do so. The metal closes around my wrists like a trap. I stand and follow Harris willingly out through the door.
But whatever I’m doing with my body, my mind is scheming. Somehow, I’m thinking, I have to get away from these men long enough to get that component behind Hut 2 and put it somewhere Hooper will go. Or, otherwise, somehow get Hooper to go there himself...
Harris marches me over to Hut 3, and gestures for the guard to stand aside. Pushing me forward, he opens the door nice and wide.
“Captain. Manning talked. If you’d step out for a moment?”
I suppose I do not believe they will hang me. They will lock me up and continue to use my brain, if they can. I wonder what they will tell the world - perhaps that I have taken my own life. That would be simplest. The few who know me would believe it.
Well, then. Not a bad existence, in prison. Removed from temptation. A kind of imposed monasticism, with plenty more problems to solve, and more mysteries to fathom.
I wonder what else I might yet unravel before I’m done?
“I don’t know.”
“You can do better than that. Remember, there’s a hangman’s noose waiting for traitors.”
“I’m suggesting you save your own skin. I’ve wrapped that component in one of your shirts, Hooper. They’ll be searching this place top to bottom. They’ll find it eventually, and when they do, that’s the thing that will swing it against you. So take my advice now.”
“If you think I’ll do that then you’re crazy,” Hooper replies.
At that moment the door flies open and the Captain comes storming back inside.
Harris hustles me over to the barracks. “I hope that’s the end of it,” he mutters as he pushes me up the steps.
“Just be sure to let him out,” I reply. “And then see where he goes.”
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. Thinking back, I should have wrapped the part from the Bombe in one of his shirts before hiding it, that would have been a clever move. I really do make a terrible spy.
“I don’t think Hooper could have planned this in advance. So he’d need to get word to whoever he’s working with, and that would take time. So I think he would have hidden it somewhere, and be waiting to make sure I soundly take the fall. That way, if anything goes wrong, he can arrange for the part to be conveniently re-found.”
“Makes sense,” Harris agrees, cautiously. I can see he’s still not certain whether he can trust me. “Which means the question is, what can we do to rat him out?”
Morning comes. I’m woken by a rooster calling from the yard behind the House. I must have slept after all. I pull myself up from the bunk, shivering slightly. There is condensation on the inside of the window. I have probably given myself a chill.
The door handle turns and without knocking, Harris comes inside. “You’re up,” he remarks, and then, “You smell like an animal.”
“I don’t think Hooper could have planned this in advance. So he’d need to get word to whoever he’s working with, and that would take time. So I think he would have hidden it somewhere, and be waiting to make sure I soundly take the fall. That way, if anything goes wrong, he can arrange for the part to be conveniently re-found.”
“Makes sense,” Harris agrees, cautiously. I can see he’s still not entirely convinced by my tale, as well he might not be - I’ve hardly been entirely straight with him. “Which means the question is, what can we do to rat him out?”
The bucket? Hardly. The bucket might do some good if I wanted to sweep up the glass afterwards, but it won’t help me smash the glass quietly.
Quickly, I pull it free, and slip it into the pocket of my jacket.
Where now?
“You’re right.” I shake my head. “You’re right. I don’t see how I can help you after all. So, there’s only one conclusion.”
“Oh, yes? And what’s that?”
“It’s your problem. Your security breach. So much for your careful vetting process.” I lean back in my chair and fold my arms so the way they shake will not be visible. “You’d better get on with solving it, instead of wasting your time in here with me.”
Harris harrumphs. He’s thinking it all over.
“Try me. Just me and him.”
“Alone?”
“Alone.”
Harris considers it. I watch his eyes, flicking backwards and forwards over mine, like a ribbon-reader trying to load in its program.
I put my ear down to the keyhole, but there’s nothing now. Probably still a guard outside, of course, but they’re keeping mum.
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
I wait a few minutes, to be sure Hooper and the Captain will have gone, then try the door. It’s locked, all right. I’m not really one for picking locks. Never tried it. I don’t think I’ll be getting out that way.
I see. Perhaps you think I bullied the man into giving himself up. Perhaps he understood my little clue far enough to know it was a threat against him, but not well enough to understand where he should look to find it. So he took the easy route out and folded. Gave me the hand.
Hardly sporting, is that it?
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
“I don’t know what I’m suggesting. I don’t understand what’s going on.”
“But of course you do.” Harris narrows his eyes. “Let’s get straight to the point. Do you have the component?” Harris demands. “Do you know where it is?”
I wait a few minutes, to be sure the Commander will have gone, then try the door. It’s locked, all right. I’m not really one for picking locks. Never tried it. I don’t think I’ll be getting out that way.
From outside, I hear a voice. Hooper’s. He’s haranguing someone, for something.
Quickly, I pull it free, and slip it into the pocket of my jacket.
Where now?
Work carefully? It’s difficult to work carefully when all one’s has is a shoe.
“No. Not for more than a moment, of course. Everyone here is marked out by how little we would be willing to say about it.”
“Only you told this young man more than a little, didn’t you?”
I nod. “He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
I suppose my fist would do a good enough job. But I’d cut myself to ribbons, most likely. And the noise would be terrible. There must be a way of making this easier. I’m supposed to be a thief now. What would a burglar do?
“Put me in with Hooper. Maybe I can get something useful out of him. As his colleague.”
Harris shakes his head. “He despises you, doesn’t he? I don’t see why he’d give himself up to you.”
I slip off my jacket and hold it with one hand over the glass. This should do it. Then I heft the bucket - this really is quite a fiddly thing to be doing, and I need far longer arms, especially in cuffs - and take a strong swing, trying to imagine it’s Harris’ face on the other side.
The sound of the impact is muffled. With my arm still covered, I sweep out the remaining glass in the frame. I’m ready to escape. The only trouble is - when they look in on me in the morning, there will be no question what has happened. It won’t help me one jot with shifting suspicion off my back.
“Listen to me, Hooper. We were the only men in that hut today, so we know what happened. But I want you to know this. I put the component inside a breeze-block in the foundations of Hut 2, wrapped in one of your shirts. They’re going to find it eventually, and that’s going to be what tips the balance. And there’s nothing you can do to stop any of that from happening.”
His eyes bulge with terror. “What did I do, to you? What did I ever do?”
“I saw him take it,” I reply, stubbornly. “Collins and Humph were outside having a cigarette, I think. The other two men were at the table. But I was at the front of the machine. I saw Hooper go around the side, and lean down, and pull something free. I even challenged him on it. I said, ‘What’s that? Someone put a nail through somewhere they shouldn’t have?’ He didn’t reply.”
“We are left with two possibilities, quite clearly. You, or Hooper.” The Commander pauses to smooth down his moustache. “Hooper’s in Hut 3 with the Captain, having a similar conversation.”
Ah, but of course! I slip off one shoe and heft it by the toe. The heel will make a decent enough hammer, if I give it enough wallop.
But I’ll cut my hand to ribbons doing it. And the noise would be terrible. There must be a way of making this easier. I’m supposed to be a thief now. What would a burglar do?
“Only that this process is unreasonable, and I believe you’re behaving like a swine.”
“You imbecile,” Harris replies, with sudden force. He is half out of his chair. “You know the situation as well as I do, so why all this fencing? The Hun are poised like rats, ready to run all over this country. They’ll destroy everything, you do understand that, don’t you? You’re not so locked up inside your crossword puzzles that you don’t see that, are you? And this machine we have here - you men - you are the best and only hope this country has. God help her.”
I sit back, startled by the force of his outburst. His carefully sculpted expression has curled to angry disgust and there is spit flecking his lips. He really does hate me, I think. He’ll have my neck just for the taste of it.
No, I am content. I suppose I do not believe they will hang me. They will lock me up and continue to use my brain, if they can. I wonder what they will tell the world - perhaps that I have taken my own life. That would be simplest. The few who know me would believe it.
Well, then. Not a bad existence, in prison. Removed from temptation. A kind of imposed monasticism, with plenty more problems to solve, and more mysteries to fathom.
I wonder what else I might yet unravel before I’m done?
I suppose I do not believe they will hang me. They will lock me up and continue to use my brain, if they can. I wonder what they will tell the world - perhaps that I have taken my own life. That would be simplest. The few who know me would believe it.
Well, then. Not a bad existence, in prison. Removed from temptation. A kind of imposed monasticism, with plenty more problems to solve, and more mysteries to fathom.
I wonder what else I might yet unravel before I’m done?
“The Captain thought it was a good scheme. You’ll most likely get a promotion.”
“Let’s hope things work out,” Harris agrees darkly.
He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
From inspiration - or desperation, I am not certain - a simple approach occurs to me. I toss the component away into the bushes behind Hooper’s tent and return to my barrack, wishing myself a long sleep followed by a morning, free of this business.
Satisfied, I return the short way up the paths between the huts to the barrack block and the broken window.
It’s a little harder getting back through - the window is higher off the ground than the floor inside - but after a decent bit of jumping and hauling I manage to get my elbows up, and then one leg, and finally I collapse inside, quite winded and out breath.
I go over to the window and try to jimmy it open. Not much luck, but in my struggling I notice this window only backs on the thin little brook that runs down the back of the compound. Which means, if I smashed it, I might get away with no-one seeing.
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
The bucket? Hardly. The bucket might do some good if I wanted to sweep up the glass afterwards, but it won’t help me smash the glass quietly.
I let him have his rant. He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
“Absolutely.”
Harris opens the door and pushes me inside. “Captain,” he calls. “Could I have a moment?”
The Captain, looking puzzled, steps out. The door is closed. Hooper stares at me, open-mouthed, about to say something. I probably have less than a minute before the Captain storms back in and declares this plan to be bunkum.
“Quite right,” I answer smartly.
He stares back at me. “Let’s get straight to the point. Do you have the component?” Harris demands. “Do you know where it is?”
“Quite right,” I answer smartly.
He stares back at me. “Let’s get straight to the point. Do you have the component?” Harris demands. “Do you know where it is?”
Let me see. There’s the bunk, a bucket, nothing else. I have my jacket but nothing in the pockets - no handkerchief, for instance.
“Maybe I can help with that.”
“Oh, yes? And how, exactly?”
“Yes, I considered it. He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
“No. I passed it on to Hooper.”
“I see. And what did he do with it?”
“Yes.”
Harris stares back at me.
“I see.” There’s a long pause, like the endless delay between feeding in a line of cypher to the Bombe and waiting for its valves and cylinders to heat up enough to being processing. “Would you like to explain?”
I put my ear down to the keyhole, but there’s nothing now. Probably still a guard outside, of course, but they’re keeping mum.
“I was quite certain, after a while. After we’d been talking. He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
“I know nothing about it.” My voice is shaking as I try to speak. I’m not accustomed to facing off against the Commander - against any man with a gun in his holster. “I don’t know what gives you the right to pick on me. Shouldn’t I have a lawyer?”
“This is time of war,” Harris answers. His tone of voice has fallen down into darkness. “And by God, if I have to shoot you to recover the component or stop it falling into the wrong hands, I will, do you understand me?”
There’s an icy silence. He’s angry at my slippery answers. He waves an impetuous hand across the field table.
“Now, drink your tea and talk.”
“I can’t remember.”
He draws his gun and lays it lightly on the field table.
“I’m sorry to threaten you, friend. But His Majesty needs that brain of yours, and that brain alone. There are plenty of other parts to you that our country could do better without. Now I’ll ask you again. Did you hide the component?”
Enough of this place. Time for me to get moving. I can get to the train station on foot, catch the postal train to Scotland and be somewhere else before anyone realises that I’m gone.
Of course, then they’ll be looking for me in earnest. As a confirmed traitor.
I go over to the window and try to jimmy it open. Not much luck, but in my struggling I notice this window only backs on the thin little brook that runs down the back of the compound. Which means, if I smashed it, I might get away with no-one seeing.
“Absolutely.”
Harris opens the door and pushes me inside. “Captain,” he calls. “Could I have a moment?”
The Captain, looking puzzled, steps out. The door is closed. Hooper stares at me, open-mouthed, about to say something. I probably have less than a minute before the Captain storms back in and declares this plan to be bunkum.
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
“I climbed out of the window overnight,” I explain. “I went and got this from where it was hidden, and brought it back here.”
“This is all too far-fetched,” Harris says. “I’m glad to have this back, but I need to think.”
Getting to his feet, he nods once. “You’ll have to wait a little longer, I’m afraid, Manning.”
Then he steps out of the door, muttering to himself.
“Well, I’m glad his conscience finally caught up with him,” I reply dismissively.
“The Captain went back into that hut and he confessed immediately. We were so surprised we didn’t let you go.” He wrinkles his nose. “I’m rather sorry about that now, but I suppose we’ll let you go know. I suggest you have a wash.”
And with that he gestures to the doorway.
“Very well. I see there’s no point in covering up. You know everything anyway.”
Harris nods, and waits for me to continue.
“There was a young man, Harris. I met him in the town. A few months ago now. We got to talking - not about work. I said I was an accountant for a firm, just as I was supposed to. Although he seemed to know that wasn’t true. That got me wondering if he wasn’t one of us.”
Harris is not letting me off any more. “You seriously considered that possibility?”
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
“I’ve done nothing that I’m ashamed of.”
“Tell me, then,” he asks. “What’s your theory? You’re a smart fellow - as smart as they come around here, and that’s saying something. What’s your opinion on the missing component? Accident, perhaps? Or do you blame one of the other men? Hooper?”
I wait a few minutes, to be sure Hooper and the Captain will have gone, then try the door. It’s locked, all right. I’m not really one for picking locks. Never tried it. I don’t think I’ll be getting out that way.
I shift in my seat. “Not really. The boy was a simpleton, obviously. My intellectual inferior. His good opinion meant nothing to be. Harris, please do not misunderstand me. I was simply after his body.”
Harris, to his credit, doesn’t flinch. Well, perhaps not: but he’ll have nightmares of this moment tonight. I’m almost tempted to reach out and try to take his hand to worsen it for him, but I hold back.
“Go on with your confession,” he replies. I shrug.
“There’s not much else to say. I took the part from Bombe computing device. You seem to know that already. I had to. He was going to expose me if I didn’t.”
“This young man was blackmailing you over your affair?”
“You want me to tell you what happened? You’ll be disgusted, I’m quite sure.”
“I can imagine how it starts,” he growls.
“There was a young man, Harris. I met him in the town. A few months ago now. We got to talking - not about work. I said I was an accountant for a firm, just as I was supposed to. Although he seemed to know that wasn’t true. That got me wondering if he wasn’t one of us.”
Harris is not letting me off any more. “You seriously considered that possibility?”
No, I am content. I suppose I do not believe they will hang me. They will lock me up and continue to use my brain, if they can. I wonder what they will tell the world - perhaps that I have taken my own life. That would be simplest. The few who know me would believe it.
Well, then. Not a bad existence, in prison. Removed from temptation. A kind of imposed monasticism, with plenty more problems to solve, and more mysteries to fathom.
I wonder what else I might yet unravel before I’m done?
“I don’t know what I’m suggesting. I don’t understand what’s going on.”
“But of course you do.” Harris narrows his eyes. “Let’s get straight to the point. Do you have the component?” Harris demands. “Do you know where it is?”
“I’m fine,” I reply. “This is all some misunderstanding and the quicker we have it cleared up the better.”
“I couldn’t agree more.” And then he comes right out with it, with an accusation. “Let’s get straight to the point. Do you have the component?” Harris demands. “Do you know where it is?”
I will have to leave that question for another day. To return there now, when they’re probably watching my every step, would be suicide. After all, if Hooper followed my clue, he will have explained it to them to save his neck. They won’t believe him - but they won’t quite disbelieve him either. We’re locked in a cycle now, him and me, of half-truth and probability. There’s nothing either of us can do to put the other entirely into blame.
Nothing, that is, except to act as if there is no game being played. I’ll have a bath, then start work as normal. I’ve got a week to find something to give my blackmailer. Something will turn up.
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
“Perhaps the accomplice thought it was Hooper being kept in here. Maybe they saw the guard...”
“This is all too far-fetched,” Harris says. “I’m glad to have this back, but I need to think.”
Getting to his feet, he nods once. “You’ll have to wait a little longer, I’m afraid, Manning.”
Then he steps out of the door, muttering to himself.
“No, I don’t. I’ve got work I should be doing tomorrow, and I need my rest...”
“Work that will be difficult for you to do, don’t you think?” Harris replies.
“They’ll have made a replacement by tomorrow,” I reply. “The war doesn’t stop over one missing reel.”
The reel went missing from the Bombe this afternoon. The four of us were in the Hut at the time, working on the latest intercept. It was Russell who noticed the machine producing strange results and found the gap in its plugboard. But as to who took it - it could have been any of us.
And indeed, it must have been. The machine had been functioning as normal when we began our calculations. And then, a short few hours later, it was gone. We had to stop. There was nothing more we could do until it was replaced. The part was vital, just as the machine was vital, and so were the contents of the message, still unread twenty four hours later.
“Let’s get straight to the point. Do you have the component?” Harris demands. “Do you know where it is?”
I go over to the window and try to jimmy it open. Not much luck, but in my struggling I notice this window only backs on the thin little brook that runs down the back of the compound. Which means, if I smashed it, I might get away with no-one seeing.
The blanket. Perfect. I scoop it up off the bed and hold it in place over the window. This should do it. Then I heft my shoe by its toe, and take a strong swing, trying to imagine it’s Harris’ face on the other side.
The sound of the impact is muffled. With my arm still covered, I sweep out the remaining glass in the frame. I’m ready to escape. The only trouble is - when they look in on me in the morning, there will be no question what has happened. It won’t help me one jot with shifting suspicion off my back.
I will have to leave that question for another day. To return there now, when they’re probably watching my every step, would be suicide. After all, if Hooper understood my clue, he will have explained it to them to save his neck. They won’t believe him - but they won’t quite disbelieve him either. We’re locked in a cycle now, him and me, of half-truth and probability. There’s nothing either of us can do to put the other entirely into blame.
Nothing, that is, except to act as if there is no game being played. I’ll have a bath, then start work as normal. I’ve got a week to find something to give my blackmailer. Something will turn up.
It’s useless. There’s nothing I can do but hope. I sit down on one corner of the bunk to wait.
Night falls. The clockwork of the heavens keeps turning, whatever state I might be in. No-one can steal the components that make the sun go down and the stars come out. I watch it performing its operations. I can’t sleep.
I slide the component into the tent, work the zip closed, and move quickly away into the shadows. It takes a few minutes for my breath to slow, and my heart to stop hammering, but I see no other movement. If anyone is watching Hooper’s tent, they are asleep at their posts.
Satisfied, I return the short way up the paths between the huts to the barrack block and the broken window.
It’s a little harder getting back through - the window is higher off the ground than the floor inside - but after a decent bit of jumping and hauling I manage to get my elbows up, and then one leg, and finally I collapse inside, quite winded and out breath.
I wait a few minutes, to be sure Hooper and the Captain will have gone, then try the door. It’s locked, all right. I’m not really one for picking locks. Never tried it. I don’t think I’ll be getting out that way.
I lift the cup and take a sip, staring him hard in the eye as I do so. He watches as I do so.
“Lapsang Souchong,” he remarks, placing his own cup down on the table with a clink. “Such a curious flavour. It might almost not be tea at all. You might say it hides a multitude of sins. As do you, isn’t that correct?”
“He has? I knew he would. The worm.”
“Steady now. Matters aren’t over yet. There’s still the issue of the component. It hasn’t turned up. He didn’t lead us to it. I guess he figured you must have had something on him. I don’t know.”
He looks quite put out by the whole affair. He is not the kind of man to deal well with ambiguities and probabilities, far preferred the clarity of fact and falsehood.
That is Harris returning. Our little computation here is complete. I only hope one of the others will be able to explain to him that the part I stole will mean nothing to the Germans.
That is the true secret of the calculating engine, and the source of its power: not in the components themselves, but in how they are wired together. The diversity of patterns and structures they can form. Much like people - it is how they connect that determines our victories and tragedies, and not their genius.
Which makes me wonder. Should I give up my beautiful young man to them as well as myself?
After a chance like this? A chance - however real - to save my neck? To hand it over - what, to save Hooper’s worthless skin?
I shift in my seat. “Not really. The boy was a simpleton, obviously. My intellectual inferior. His good opinion meant nothing to be. Harris, please do not misunderstand me. I was simply after his body.”
Harris, to his credit, doesn’t flinch. Well, perhaps not: but he’ll have nightmares of this moment tonight. I’m almost tempted to reach out and try to take his hand to worsen it for him, but I hold back.
“Go on with your confession,” he replies. I shrug.
“There’s not much else to say. I took the part from Bombe computing device. You seem to know that already. I had to. He was going to expose me if I didn’t.”
“This young man was blackmailing you over your affair?”
“I suppose I do rather.” I laugh, but Harris does not.
“This damn business gets worse and worse,” he says, talking as he goes over to unlock and throw open the window. “Hooper’s confessed, you know.”
The bucket? Hardly. The bucket might do some good if I wanted to sweep up the glass afterwards, but it won’t help me smash the glass quietly.
“No. I have no idea.”
He’s talking about the missing reel from the Bombe. Russell discovered it this afternoon when the machine began producing strange results. We were all in the Hut when it happened and it had been in place when we sat down to work. The conclusions had been obvious to all four of us immediately, but had gone undiscussed, even after the empty socket was located, the wiring torn on either side.
“Lucky these things are easy to replace,” Russell had remarked, and that had been that. We had stopped work, sent out for a new part to be machined. And drunk our tea and watched each other.
“Come now,” Harris says, quite the reasonable gent. “As I told you. We’re not interviewing everyone. Only you. So. I think you can be a little more forthcoming.”
I say nothing, my lips tightly, firmly sealed. It’s true I am a traitor, to the very laws of nature. The world has taught me that since a very early age. But not to my country - should the Reich win this war, I would hardly be treated as an honoured hero. I was doomed from the very start.
I explain none of this. How could a man like Harris understand?
The Commander takes one look back from the doorway as he pulls it to.
“It’s been a pleasure working with you, Mr Manning,” he declares. “You’ve done a great service to this country. If we come through, I’m sure they’ll remember you name. I’m sorry it had to end this way and I’ll do my best to keep it quiet. No-one need know what you did.”
The Commander holds the door for his superior, and follows him out. Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
I pat down my pockets but all I’m carrying is the intercept, which is no good at all.
Moving quickly and quietly, I hoist myself up onto the window-frame and worm my way outside into the freezing night air. Then I’m away, slipping down the paths between the Huts, sticking to the shadows, on my way to Hut 2.
“Perhaps the accomplice thought it was Hooper being kept in here. Maybe they saw the guard...”
“This is all too far-fetched,” Harris says. “I’m glad to have this back, but I need to think.”
Getting to his feet, he nods once. “You’ll have to wait a little longer, I’m afraid, Manning.”
Then he steps out of the door, muttering to himself.
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
The bunk has a solid metal frame, a blanket, a pillow, nothing more.
I settle down to wait.
Night falls. The clockwork of the heavens keeps turning, whatever state I might be in. No-one can steal the components that make the sun go down and the stars come out. I watch it performing its operations. I can’t sleep.
I put my ear down to the keyhole, but there’s nothing now. Probably still a guard outside, of course, but they’re keeping mum.
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
“Yes.”
Harris smiles with satisfaction, as if your willingness to talk was somehow a result of his clever techniques.
“I see.” There’s a long pause, like the endless delay between feeding in a line of cypher to the Bombe and waiting for its valves and cylinders to heat up enough to being processing. “Would you like to explain?”
I wait a few minutes, to be sure Hooper and the Captain will have gone, then try the door. It’s locked, all right. I’m not really one for picking locks. Never tried it. I don’t think I’ll be getting out that way.
I wait a few minutes, to be sure Hooper and the Captain will have gone, then try the door. It’s locked, all right. I’m not really one for picking locks. Never tried it. I don’t think I’ll be getting out that way.
“I’m not trying to do anything except save my neck.”
“Let’s hope things work out,” Harris agrees darkly.
He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. I can only hope that Hooper bites on my baited hook. If he thinks I’m mad and bitter enough to have framed him somehow, and arrogant enough to have taunted him with a clue to where the damning evidence is hidden... if he hates me enough, and is paranoid enough, then he might unravel my little riddle and go searching around Hut 2.
Thinking back, I should have wrapped the part from the Bombe in one of his shirts before hiding it, that would have been a clever move. I really do make a terrible spy.
“Well, then,” I answer, nervously. “What would he do? Either get rid of it straight away - or if that wasn’t possible, which it probably wouldn’t be, since he’d have to arrange things with his contacts - so most likely, he’d hide it somewhere and wait, until you had the rope around my neck and he could be sure he was safe.”
“Makes sense,” Harris agrees, cautiously. I can see he’s still not certain whether he can trust me. “Which means the question is, what can we do to rat him out?”
“Well, I’m glad his conscience finally caught up with him,” I reply dismissively.
“The Captain went back into that hut and he confessed immediately. We were so surprised we didn’t let you go.” He wrinkles his nose. “I’m rather sorry about that now, but I suppose we’ll let you go know. I suggest you have a wash.”
And with that he gestures to the doorway.
I slip off my jacket and hold it with one hand over the glass. This should do it. Then I heft the bucket - this really is quite a fiddly thing to be doing, and I need far longer arms, especially in cuffs - and take a strong swing, trying to imagine it’s Harris’ face on the other side.
The sound of the impact is muffled. With my arm still covered, I sweep out the remaining glass in the frame. I’m ready to escape. The only trouble is - when they look in on me in the morning, there will be no question what has happened. It won’t help me one jot with shifting suspicion off my back.
“Yes, perhaps. But also to ensure your name goes down in the annals of mathematics. All you have to do is go to the back of Hut 2. There’s a breeze-block with a cavity. That’s where I’ve put it. I’ll be locked up overnight, I should think. But you can pick it up and pass it to my contact. He’ll be at the south fence around two AM.”
“If you think I’ll do that then you’re crazy,” Hooper replies.
At that moment the door flies open and the Captain comes storming back inside.
Harris hustles me over to the barracks. “I hope that’s the end of it,” he mutters as he pushes me up the steps.
“Just be sure to let him out,” I reply. “And then see where he goes.”
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
I wait a few minutes, to be sure the Commander will have gone, then try the door. It’s locked, all right. I’m not really one for picking locks. Never tried it. I don’t think I’ll be getting out that way.
From outside, I hear a voice. Hooper’s. He’s haranguing someone, for something.
“I don’t think Hooper could have planned this in advance. So he’d need to get word to whoever he’s working with, and that would take time. So I think he would have hidden it somewhere, and be waiting to make sure I soundly take the fall. That way, if anything goes wrong, he can arrange for the part to be conveniently re-found.”
“Makes sense,” Harris agrees, cautiously. I can see he’s still not entirely convinced by my tale, as well he might not be - I’ve hardly been entirely straight with him. “Which means the question is, what can we do to rat him out?”
Morning comes slowly, but I must fall asleep at some point, because the next thing I know the rooster is calling and a cool, fresh breeze is blowing through the open window. I barely have time to wipe the sleep from my eyes and brush myself down before the door opens and Harris enters.
He takes one look around, and sighs, a deep, wistful sigh.
“Things just get worse and worse for you, Manning,” he remarks. “You are your own worst enemy.”
No, I am content. I suppose I do not believe they will hang me. They will lock me up and continue to use my brain, if they can. I wonder what they will tell the world - perhaps that I have taken my own life. That would be simplest. The few who know me would believe it.
Well, then. Not a bad existence, in prison. Removed from temptation. A kind of imposed monasticism, with plenty more problems to solve, and more mysteries to fathom.
I wonder what else I might yet unravel before I’m done?
“No. It’s not treason. It’s a trade, plain and simple.”
“If you think I’ll do that then you’re crazy,” Hooper replies.
At that moment the door flies open and the Captain comes storming back inside.
Harris hustles me over to the barracks. “I hope that’s the end of it,” he mutters as he pushes me up the steps.
“Just be sure to let him out,” I reply. “And then see where he goes.”
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
Ah, but of course! I slip off one shoe and heft it by the toe. The heel will make a decent enough hammer, if I give it enough wallop.
But I’ll cut my hand to ribbons doing it. And the noise would be terrible. There must be a way of making this easier. I’m supposed to be a thief now. What would a burglar do?
Ah, but of course! I slip off one shoe and heft it by the toe. The heel will make a decent enough hammer, if I give it enough wallop.
But I’ll cut my hand to ribbons doing it. And the noise would be terrible. There must be a way of making this easier. I’m supposed to be a thief now. What would a burglar do?
“Absolutely.”
Harris opens the door and pushes me inside. “Captain,” he calls. “Could I have a moment?”
The Captain, looking puzzled, steps out. The door is closed. Hooper stares at me, open-mouthed, about to say something. I probably have less than a minute before the Captain storms back in and declares this plan to be bunkum.
The rest of the night passes slowly. I sleep a little, dozing mostly. Then I’m woken by the rooster in the yard. The door opens, and Harris comes in. He takes one look at the broken window and frowns with puzzlement.
“What happened there?”
“No, Harris. I don’t think you can understand.”
“Go on with your confession,” he replies. That gives me pause, for a moment. I hadn’t thought of it as such. But I suppose that’s what this is. I am about to admit what I did, after all.
“There’s not much else to say. I took the part from Bombe computing device. You seem to know that already. I had to. He was going to expose me if I didn’t.”
“This young man was blackmailing you over your affair?”
As Harris speaks I find myself suddenly sharply aware, as if waking from a long sleep. The table, the corrugated walls of the hut, everything seems suddenly more tangible than a moment before. Perhaps whatever it was they put in my drink is wearing off?
I have a single moment to shout something to Hooper before the door closes.
“I’ll get you Hooper, you’ll see!” I cry. Then:
I put my ear down to the keyhole, but there’s nothing now. Probably still a guard outside, of course, but they’re keeping mum.
“An accident, naturally.” I risk a smile. “That damned machine, Harris; it’s made from spare parts and string. Even these huts leak when it rains. It wouldn’t take more than one fellow to trip over a cable to shake out a component and have it roll away across the floor. Have you tried looking under the thing?”
Harris doesn’t smile. “Do you suppose we haven’t? Do you supposed we haven’t combed every inch of this place already?”
In a sudden moment I understand that his reply is a threat.
“Now,” he continues. “Are you sure there isn’t anything you want to tell me?”
“I don’t know what gives you the right to pick on me. I demand a lawyer.”
“This is time of war,” Harris answers. His tone of voice has fallen down into darkness. “And by God, if I have to shoot you to recover the component or stop it falling into the wrong hands, I will, do you understand me?”
There’s an icy silence. He’s angry at my slippery answers. He waves an impetuous hand across the field table.
“Now, drink your tea and talk.”
Satisfied, I return the short way up the paths between the huts to the barrack block and the broken window.
It’s a little harder getting back through - the window is higher off the ground than the floor inside - but after a decent bit of jumping and hauling I manage to get my elbows up, and then one leg, and finally I collapse inside, quite winded and out breath.
“No. I have no idea.”
He’s talking about the missing reel from the Bombe. Russell discovered it this afternoon when the machine began producing strange results. We were all in the Hut when it happened and it had been in place when we sat down to work. The conclusions had been obvious to all four of us immediately, but had gone undiscussed, even after the empty socket was located, the wiring torn on either side.
“Lucky these things are easy to replace,” Russell had remarked, and that had been that. We had stopped work, sent out for a new part to be machined. And drunk our tea and watched each other.
“Come now,” Harris says, quite the reasonable gent. “As I told you. We’re not interviewing everyone. Only you. So. I think you can be a little more forthcoming.”
I leave the cup exactly where it is. “Why?” I ask coldly. “What’s in it?”
“Lapsang Souchong,” he remarks, placing his own cup down on the table with a clink. “Such a curious flavour. It might almost not be tea at all. You might say it hides a multitude of sins. As do you, isn’t that correct?”
“All right,” he declares, gruffly. “We’ll try it. But if this doesn’t work, I might just put the both of you in front of a firing squad and be done with these games. Worse things happen in time of war, you know.”
“Alone,” I add.
“Alone?”
“Alone.”
Harris considers it. I watch his eyes, flicking backwards and forwards over mine, like a ribbon-reader trying to load in its program.
I suppose my fist would do a good enough job. But I’d cut myself to ribbons, most likely. And the noise would be terrible. There must be a way of making this easier. I’m supposed to be a thief now. What would a burglar do?
This battle will be one of misinformation, just as the war raging in Europe and over British skies is more one of plans and messages and interceptions than it is of bullets, guns and planes. My only hope is create a story they prefer to the truth.
They leave me plenty of time to lay my plans. Half an hour goes by before Commander Harris returns to the hut. He seems careful to leave the door open only for a moment, as if worried a loose word or two might slip inside.
He’s brought two cups of tea in metal mugs: he sets them down on the tabletop between us.
“Well then,” he begins, a little awkwardly. This is an unseemly situation, it would be appear. He pushes one cup halfway towards me. A small gesture of friendship. Is that enough to give me some hope?
Enough of this. There isn’t any time to lose. Right now they’ll be following Hooper as he goes to bed, and goes to sleep; and then that’s it. The minute he closes his eyelids and drifts off that’s the moment that this trap swings shut on me.
So I punch out the glass with my shoe and it shatters with a terrific noise. Then I stop, and wait, to see if anyone will come in through the door.
Nothing.
“Well?”
“We’ll be outside the door,” Harris replies, seriously. “The first sign of any funny business and we’ll have you both on the floor in minutes. You understand? The country needs your brain, but it’s not too worried about your legs. Remember that.”
Then he gets to his feet, and opens the door, and marches me out and across the yard. The evening is drawing in and there’s a chill in the air. My mind is racing. I have one opportunity here - a moment in which to put the fear of God into Hooper and make him do something foolish to place himself in harm’s way. But how to achieve it?
“You ready?” Harris demands.
“I know nothing about it.” My voice is shaking as I try to speak. I’m not accustomed to facing off against the Commander - against any man with a gun in his holster. “I don’t know what gives you the right to pick on me. Shouldn’t I have a lawyer?”
“This is time of war,” Harris answers. His tone of voice has fallen down into darkness. “And by God, if I have to shoot you to recover the component or stop it falling into the wrong hands, I will, do you understand me?”
There’s an icy silence. He’s angry. He waves an impetuous hand across the field table.
“Now, drink your tea and talk.”
I look in through the door and catch Hooper’s expression. I had half expected him to be smiling be he isn’t. He looks shocked, almost hurt. “Iain,” he murmurs. “You couldn’t...”
The Captain comes outside, pulling the door to. “What’s this?” he asks. “A confession? Just like that?”
“No,” the Commander admits, in a low voice. “I’m afraid not. Rather more a scheme. The idea is to let Hooper go and see what he does. If he believes we have Manning here in irons, he’ll try to shift the component.”
“If he has it.”
“Indeed.”
The Captain peers at me for a moment, like I was some kind of curious insect.
“Sometimes, I think you people are magicians,” he remarks. “Other times you seem more like witches. Very well.”
With that he opens the door to the Hut and goes back inside. The Commander uses the moment to hustle me roughly forward.
“This scheme of yours had better come off,” he hisses in my ear. “Otherwise the Captain is going to start having men tailing me to see where I go on Saturdays.”
No, I am content. I suppose I do not believe they will hang me. They will lock me up and continue to use my brain, if they can. I wonder what they will tell the world - perhaps that I have taken my own life. That would be simplest. The few who know me would believe it.
Well, then. Not a bad existence, in prison. Removed from temptation. A kind of imposed monasticism, with plenty more problems to solve, and more mysteries to fathom.
I wonder what else I might yet unravel before I’m done?
Work carefully? It’s difficult to work carefully when all one’s has is a shoe.
I slide the component into the tent, work the zip closed, and move quickly away into the shadows. It takes a few minutes for my breath to slow, and my heart to stop hammering, but I see no other movement. If anyone is watching Hooper’s tent, they are asleep at their posts.
Satisfied, I return the short way up the paths between the huts to the barrack block and the broken window.
It’s a little harder getting back through - the window is higher off the ground than the floor inside - but after a decent bit of jumping and hauling I manage to get my elbows up, and then one leg, and finally I collapse inside, quite winded and out breath.
“I always meant to tell you,” I tell him. “I thought perhaps I could find out who they were. Lead you to them.”
Harris looks at me with contempt. “You wretched little man. Don’t think your tongue will be able to get you out of trouble. You’re going to pay for what you’ve done, and you’re going to pay dearly. If a single man loses his life because of your pride and your perversions then God help your eternal soul. The fact is you committed a crime.” If I had any sense that he understood my predicament, and that he felt for my state of being, it collapses like a chain with a broken link. “You thought you could repair it with another, more serious crime?” He shakes his head. “I thought you men were supposed to be clever. But this is the action of a frightened woman. So I’d like you to tell me, now. Where is it?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
“There’s nothing to explain,” I reply stiffly. “I know where your component is because it’s obvious where your component is. That doesn’t mean I took it, just because I can figure out a simple problem, any more than it means I’m a German spy because I can crack their codes.”
“Tell me, then,” he asks. “What’s your theory? You’re a smart fellow - as smart as they come around here, and that’s saying something. What’s your opinion on the missing component? Accident, perhaps? Or do you blame one of the other men? Hooper?”
“You’re right.” I shake my head. “You’re right. I don’t see how I can help you after all. So, there’s only one conclusion.”
“Oh, yes? And what’s that?”
“It’s your problem. Your security breach. So much for your careful vetting process.” I lean back in my chair and fold my arms so the way they shake will not be visible. “You’d better get on with solving it, instead of wasting your time in here with me.”
Harris harrumphs. He’s thinking it all over.
“You mean he confessed of his own accord? You didn’t catch him?”
“The Captain went back into that hut and he confessed immediately. We were so surprised we didn’t let you go.” He wrinkles his nose. “I’m rather sorry about that now, but I suppose we’ll let you go know. I suggest you have a wash.”
And with that he gestures to the doorway.
“You’re the one applying pressure here,” I answer somewhat miserably. “I’m just waiting until you tell me what is really going on.”
“It’s simple enough,” Harris replies. “I’ve seen the same story a hundred times before,” he says. “A young man like yourself - clever, somewhat removed from the world. The kind that doesn’t go to parties, you might say. Who takes himself a little too seriously, perhaps. Takes things too far. Further than a man should allow a thing to go. That’s the story, isn’t it? You took things too far, and then you couldn’t take them back. And now they have you.”
“It’s not that bad. I can still fix it.”
Harris shakes his head. “This isn’t a problem to be cracked. This isn’t a puzzle. I’m sorry, but this is bigger than you now. Look. You can go to prison for what you’ve done, or we can change your identity and move you somewhere where your... indiscretions... can’t hurt anyone any more. But right now none of that matters. What happens to you, doesn’t matter. All that matters is where that component is. So I’d like you to tell me, now. Where is it?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
That is Harris returning. Our little computation here is complete.
That is the true secret of the calculating engine, and the source of its power: not in the components themselves, but in how they are wired together. The diversity of patterns and structures they can form. Much like people - it is how they connect that determines our victories and tragedies, and not their genius.
Which makes me wonder. Should I give the young man who put me in this spot to them as well as myself?
“You mean he confessed of his own accord? You didn’t catch him?”
“The Captain went back into that hut and he confessed immediately. We were so surprised we didn’t let you go.” He wrinkles his nose. “I’m rather sorry about that now, but I suppose we’ll let you go know. I suggest you have a wash.”
And with that he gestures to the doorway.
I pause for a moment longer. It doesn’t do to be too careless...
Then the door locks turns. The door opens. Then Jeremy - one of the guards, rather - sticks his head through the door. “I thought I heard...”
He stops. Looks for a moment. Sees the broken window. Then without a moment’s further thought he blows his shrill whistles and hustles into the hut, grabbing me roughly by my arms.
I’ll never know if I hadn’t have waited that extra moment - maybe I still could have got away. But, how far?
I’m hustled into one of the huts. Nowhere to sleep, but they’re not interested in my comfort any longer. Harris comes in with the Captain.
“So,” Harris remarks. “Looks like your little trap worked. Only it worked to show you out for what you are.”
I have no God to make peace with. I find it difficult to believe in goodness of any kind, in a world such as this.
But I am no traitor. At least, not to my country. To my sex, perhaps. But how could I support the Reich? If it were to come to power, I would be worse off than under the already dire circumstances of my existence.
I have no place here. No way to fit. I am the intercept - caught, in the middle, cryptic and understood only thinly, through devices and machines.
“I’m not trying to do anything except save my neck.”
“Let’s hope things work out,” Harris agrees darkly.
He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
Making a wide circuit I creep around the tent. It has plenty of other flaps and openings, tied down with Gordian complexity. But nothing afford itself to slipping the component inside.
“You’re right. Let me talk to him, then. As a colleague. Maybe I can get something useful out of him.”
Harris shakes his head. “He despises you, doesn’t he? I don’t see why he’d give himself up to you.”
“I’ve thought so before.” Certainly in the matter of getting blackmailed.
“Let me tell you what happened this morning. Our men watching Hooper’s tent saw Hooper wake up, get dressed, clamber out of his tent and then remark with surprise as, while looking for his shoes, he stumbled on something just at the entrance of his tent.”
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
Work carefully? It’s difficult to work carefully when all one’s has is nothing but brute force.
“For God’s sake, man, what do you have to lose?”
“We’ll be outside the door,” Harris replies, seriously. “The first sign of any funny business and we’ll have you both on the floor in minutes. You understand? The country needs your brain, but it’s not too worried about your legs. Remember that.”
Then he gets to his feet, and opens the door, and marches me out and across the yard. The evening is drawing in and there’s a chill in the air. My mind is racing. I have one opportunity here - a moment in which to put the fear of God into Hooper and make him do something foolish to place himself in harm’s way. But how to achieve it?
“You ready?” Harris demands.
After a chance like this? A chance - however real - to save my neck? To hand it over - what, to save Hooper’s worthless skin?
Next. To Hooper’s dorm. Time to wrap up this little game once and for all.
I creep around the outside of the Huts. All are quiet, steel-grey in the hazy moonlight; a few shining copper from arc-lamps strung from the trees. A few guards patrol the area at night but not many - after all, very few know this place even exists.
Our quarters are arranged away from the House; where we sleep is of less importance than where we work. We each have our own Hut, through some are less permanent than other’s. Hooper’s is a military issue tent: quite a large canopy, with two rooms inside and a short porch area where he insists people leave their shoes. It’s all zipped up for the night and no light shines from inside.
I hang back for a moment. If Harris is keeping to the terms of our deal then someone will be watching this place. But I can see no-one.
I shrug, eloquently.
“This is all too far-fetched,” Harris says. “I’m glad to have this back, but I need to think.”
Getting to his feet, he nods once. “You’ll have to wait a little longer, I’m afraid, Manning.”
Then he steps out of the door, muttering to himself.
“So he’s an idiot, and he hid it in his shoe.”
“No,” Harris replies. “That isn’t really what I mean. I mean, he managed to find it, by accident, somewhere where it wasn’t the night before. And at the same time, you’re sitting here with your window broken. So, I rather think you’ve played your last hand and lost. There’s no way Hooper stole that component and then just left it lying around in the doorway of his tent. No way at all. So I came to tell you that the game is up for you.”
He nods and gets to his feet. Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
I put my ear down to the keyhole, but there’s nothing now. Probably still a guard outside, of course, but they’re keeping mum.
“Yes. Probably under my bunk.”
Harris smiles wryly. “We’ll know that for a fake, then. We’ve looked there already. I don’t mind telling you, this is a disaster, this whole thing. What I want is to find that little bit of mechanical trickery anywhere. I don’t care where. In your luncheon box or under Hooper’s pillow, whatever. Just somewhere, and within the grounds of this place.”
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
I put my ear to the keyhole but can make out nothing. Are there still guards posted? Perhaps, if Hooper has managed to incriminate himself, the guards have been removed?
Perhaps the door is unlocked and they left me to sleep? I try the handle. No such luck.
The night draws on at its own pace. I suppose by morning I will know my fate.
“Ask not for whom the bell tolls!”
He stares back at me, as if were a madman and perhaps for a split second I see him shudder.
The Captain comes outside, pulling the door to. “What’s this?” he asks. “A confession? Just like that?”
“No,” the Commander admits, in a low voice. “I’m afraid not. Rather more a scheme. The idea is to let Hooper go and see what he does. If he believes we have Manning here in irons, he’ll try to shift the component.”
“If he has it.”
“Indeed.”
The Captain peers at me for a moment, like I was some kind of curious insect.
“Sometimes, I think you people are magicians,” he remarks. “Other times you seem more like witches. Very well.”
With that he opens the door to the Hut and goes back inside. The Commander uses the moment to hustle me roughly forward.
“And what was all that shouting about?” he hisses in my ear as we move towards the barracks. “Are you trying to pull something? Or just make me look incompetent?”
“We don’t have to believe anyone,” Harris replies sternly. “I intend to know the truth and be happy with nothing else. Right now, your story doesn’t hold water. It doesn’t tie up. We know you’ve been leaving yourself open to accusations. We’ve been watching your activities for some time. But we thought you were endangering the reputation of this site with the Government; not risking the country herself. Perhaps I put too much trust in your intellectual pride.”
He pauses for a moment, considering something. Then he continues:
“It might have been Hooper. It might have been you. No-one here is in the business of guessing, you know that. Our business is to decode. To get to the bottom of whatever’s going on. You’ve not placed yourself beyond suspicion and until you do so...” Harris shrugs. “I’m afraid I have fewer and fewer choices as time goes on. If that component has left these grounds then every minute is critical.”
“Now steady on,” I reply, gesturing for him to calm himself.
“Talk,” Harris demands. “Talk, now. Tell me where you’ve hidden it or who you’ve passed it to. Or God help me, but I’ll take your wretched pansy body to pieces looking for it, do you understand me?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
The weight of the Bombe component safely in my jacket, I return the short way up the paths between the huts to the barrack block and the broken window.
It’s a little harder getting back through - the window is higher off the ground than the floor inside - but after a decent bit of jumping and hauling I manage to get my elbows up, and then one leg, and finally I collapse inside, quite winded and out breath.
“Perhaps Hooper had an accomplice. Someone else who works on site.”
Harris shakes his head, distractedly. “That doesn’t make sense,” he says. “Why go to all the trouble of stealing it only to give it back? And why like this?”
“Well, I’m glad his conscience finally caught up with him,” I reply dismissively.
“The Captain went back into that hut and he confessed immediately. We were so surprised we didn’t let you go.” He wrinkles his nose. “I’m rather sorry about that now, but I suppose we’ll let you go know. I suggest you have a wash.”
And with that he gestures to the doorway.
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
“I don’t know what gives you the right to pick on me. I demand a lawyer.”
“This is time of war,” Harris answers. His tone of voice has fallen down into darkness. “And by God, if I have to shoot you to recover the component or stop it falling into the wrong hands, I will, do you understand me?”
There’s an icy silence. He’s angry. He waves an impetuous hand across the field table.
“Now, drink your tea and talk.”
Making a wide circuit I creep around the tent. It has plenty of other flaps and openings, tied down with Gordian complexity. But nothing afford itself to slipping the component inside.
“Very well then.” I swallow nervously, to make it look more genuine. “No. I passed it on to Hooper.”
“I see. And what did he do with it?”
“Yes. I didn’t have long, but I had long enough. The missing component of the Bombe computer is hidden in a small cavity in a breeze-block supporting the left rear post of Hut 2. I put in there anticipating a search. I intended to pass it to Hooper once the fuss had died down. I suppose I was foolish to think that it might.”
“Indeed you were. And, Mr Manning: God help you if you’re lying to me.”
Harris stands, and slips away smartly. Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
“I’m not trying to do anything except save my neck.”
“Let’s hope things work out,” Harris agrees darkly.
He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
“Quite terrible. I would never have guessed.”
“Well.” Russell harrumphs. “Quince was saying this morning, apparently his grandfather was German. So perhaps it’s to be expected. See you there?”
I wave to him and move away, my thoughts turning to the young man in the village. My lover. My contact. My blackmailer. Hooper may have taken the fall for the missing component, but its recovery does mean I have nothing to sell to save my reputation, if I have any left.
The bucket? Hardly. The bucket might do some good if I wanted to sweep up the glass afterwards, but it won’t help me smash the glass quietly.
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
“Yes. Something like that. It’s a very lonely life otherwise. And the work we do - well. It only makes it worse. There’s barely a moment to oneself.”
“That’s how it is in the Service,” Harris answers. “I know you didn’t sign up for it but, well. There’s plenty of other men who didn’t who are serving now, too. Now, go on with your confession.”
That gives me pause, for a moment. I hadn’t thought of it as such. But I suppose that’s what this is. I am about to admit what I did, after all.
“There’s not much else to say. I took the part from Bombe computing device. You seem to know that already. I had to. He was going to expose me if I didn’t.”
“This young man was blackmailing you over your affair?”
“I don’t know what gives you the right to pick on me. I demand a lawyer.”
“This is time of war,” Harris answers. His tone of voice has fallen down into darkness. “And by God, if I have to shoot you to recover the component or stop it falling into the wrong hands, I will, do you understand me?”
There’s an icy silence. He’s angry. He waves an impetuous hand across the field table.
“Now, drink your tea and talk.”
“Then I’ll be going, on and getting on with my job of saving her, shall I?” I even rise half to my feet, before he slams the tabletop.
“Talk,” Harris demands. “Talk, now. Tell me where you’ve hidden it or who you’ve passed it to. Or God help me, but I’ll take your wretched pansy body to pieces looking for it, do you understand me?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
“Ask not for whom the bell tolls!”
He stares back at me, as if were a madman and perhaps for a split second I see him shudder.
The Captain comes outside, pulling the door to. “What’s this?” he asks. “A confession? Just like that?”
“No,” the Commander admits, in a low voice. “I’m afraid not. Rather more a scheme. The idea is to let Hooper go and see what he does. If he believes we have Manning here in irons, he’ll try to shift the component.”
“If he has it.”
“Indeed.”
The Captain peers at me for a moment, like I was some kind of curious insect.
“Sometimes, I think you people are magicians,” he remarks. “Other times you seem more like witches. Very well.”
With that he opens the door to the Hut and goes back inside. The Commander uses the moment to hustle me roughly forward.
“And what was all that shouting about?” he hisses in my ear as we move towards the barracks. “Are you trying to pull something? Or just make me look incompetent?”
I shift in my seat. “Not really. The boy was a simpleton, obviously. My intellectual inferior. His good opinion meant nothing to be. Harris, please do not misunderstand me. I was simply after his body.”
Harris, to his credit, doesn’t flinch. Well, perhaps not: but he’ll have nightmares of this moment tonight. I’m almost tempted to reach out and try to take his hand to worsen it for him, but I hold back.
“Go on with your confession,” he replies. I shrug.
“There’s not much else to say. I took the part from Bombe computing device. You seem to know that already. I had to. He was going to expose me if I didn’t.”
“This young man was blackmailing you over your affair?”
“Someone threw this in through the window over night,” I reply, and open my jacket to reveal the component from the Bombe. “I couldn’t see who, it was too dark. But I know what it is.”
He reaches out and takes it. “Well, I’ll be damned,” he murmurs. “That’s it all right. And you didn’t have it on you when we put you in here. But it can’t have been Hooper - I had men watching him all night. And there’s no-one else it could have been.”
He turns the component over in his hands, bemused.
I go over to the window and try to jimmy it open. Not much luck, but in my struggling I notice this window only backs on the thin little brook that runs down the back of the compound. Which means, if I smashed it, I might get away with no-one seeing.
“Harris. They were blackmailing me. They knew about... certain indiscretions. You can understand, can’t you, Harris? I was in an impossible bind...”
“Be quiet, man. We know all about your and your sordid affairs.” The Captain curls his lip. “Don’t you know there’s a war on? Do you know the kind of place they would have sent you if it haven’t had been for that brain of yours? Don’t you think you owe it to your country to use it a little more?”
Do I, I wonder? Do I owe this country anything, this country that has spurned who and what am I since the day I became a man?
“Of my standing. My reputation.” I don’t like to talk of myself like this, but I carry on all the same. “Hooper simply can’t bear knowing that, once all this is over, I’ll be the one receiving the knighthood and he...”
“No-one will be getting a knighthood if the Germans invade,” Harris answers sharply. He casts a quick eye to the door of the Hut to check the latch is still down, then continues in more of a murmur: “Not you and not Hooper. Now answer me.” For the first time since the door closed, I wonder what the threat might be if I do not.
“Let’s get straight to the point. Do you have the component?” Harris demands. “Do you know where it is?”
I slip off my jacket and hold it with one hand over the glass. This should do it. Then I heft the bucket - this really is quite a fiddly thing to be doing, and I need far longer arms, especially in cuffs - and take a strong swing, trying to imagine it’s Harris’ face on the other side.
The sound of the impact is muffled. With my arm still covered, I sweep out the remaining glass in the frame. I’m ready to escape. The only trouble is - when they look in on me in the morning, there will be no question what has happened. It won’t help me one jot with shifting suspicion off my back.
“I saw him take it,” I reply, stubbornly. “Collins and Humph were outside having a cigarette, I think. The other two men were at the table. But I was at the front of the machine. I saw Hooper go around the side, and lean down, and pull something free. I even challenged him on it. I said, ‘What’s that? Someone put a nail through somewhere they shouldn’t have?’ He didn’t reply.”
“We are left with two possibilities, quite clearly. You, or Hooper.” The Commander pauses to smooth down his moustache. “Hooper’s in Hut 3 with the Captain, having a similar conversation.”
“Very well. I see there’s no point in covering up. You know everything anyway.”
Harris nods, and waits for me to continue.
“There was a young man, Harris. I met him in the town. A few months ago now. We got to talking - not about work. I said I was an accountant for a firm, just as I was supposed to. Although he seemed to know that wasn’t true. That got me wondering if he wasn’t one of us.”
Harris is not letting me off any more. “You seriously considered that possibility?”
“Trust me. He hasn’t. If I know that man, and I do, he’ll have wanted to keep his options open as long as possible. If the component’s gone then he’s committed and he’ll be hung for what he’s done. He’ll want to wait a week at least, make sure he’s escaped suspicion. And then he’ll pass it on.”
“And if we keep applying pressure to him, you think the component will eventually just turn up?”
“No.”
“Too bad.” Harris opens the door and pushes me inside. “Captain,” he calls. “Could I have a moment?”
The Captain, looking puzzled, steps out. The door is closed. Hooper stares at me, open-mouthed, about to say something. I probably have less than a minute before the Captain storms back in and declares this plan to be bunkum.
I have no God to make peace with. I find it difficult to believe in goodness of any kind, in a world such as this.
But I am no traitor. At least, not to my country. To my sex, perhaps. But how could I support the Reich? If it were to come to power, I would be worse off than under the already dire circumstances of my existence.
I have no place here. No way to fit. I am the intercept - caught, in the middle, cryptic and understood only thinly, through devices and machines.
“What could I do?” I’m shaking now. The night is cold and the heat-lamp in this hut has been removed, presumably to keep me alert and on edge. “I don’t want to go to prison.”
“You committed a crime,” Harris answers. If I had any sense that he understood my predicament, and that he felt for my state of being, it collapses like a chain with a broken link. “You thought you could repair it with another, more serious crime?” He shakes his head. “I thought you men were supposed to be clever. But this is the action of a frightened woman. So I’d like you to tell me, now. Where is it?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
I go over to the window and try to jimmy it open. Not much luck, but in my struggling I notice this window only backs on the thin little brook that runs down the back of the compound. Which means, if I smashed it, I might get away with no-one seeing.
From outside, I hear a voice. Hooper’s. He’s haranguing someone, for something.
I shift in my seat. “Not really. The boy was a simpleton, obviously. My intellectual inferior. His good opinion meant nothing to be. Harris, please do not misunderstand me. I was simply after his body.”
Harris, to his credit, doesn’t flinch. Well, perhaps not: but he’ll have nightmares of this moment tonight. I’m almost tempted to reach out and try to take his hand to worsen it for him, but I hold back.
“Go on with your confession,” he replies. I shrug.
“There’s not much else to say. I took the part from Bombe computing device. You seem to know that already. I had to. He was going to expose me if I didn’t.”
“This young man was blackmailing you over your affair?”
I creep forward to the tent, intent on lifting the zip to the front porch area just a little - enough to slip the component inside, and without the risk of the noise waking Hooper from his snoring.
The work is careful, and more than little fiddly - Hooper has tied the zips down on the inside, the fastidious little bastard! - but after a little work I manage to make a hole large enough for my hand.
Moving quickly and quietly, I hoist myself up onto the window-frame and worm my way outside into the freezing night air. Then I’m away, slipping down the paths between the Huts, sticking to the shadows, on my way to Hut 2.
“I saw him take it,” I reply, stubbornly. “Collins and Humph were outside having a cigarette, I think. The other two men were at the table. But I was at the front of the machine. I saw Hooper go around the side, and lean down, and pull something free. I even challenged him on it. I said, ‘What’s that? Someone put a nail through somewhere they shouldn’t have?’ He didn’t reply.”
“We are left with two possibilities, quite clearly. You, or Hooper.” The Commander pauses to smooth down his moustache. “Hooper’s in Hut 3 with the Captain, having a similar conversation.”
The blanket. Perfect. I scoop it up off the bed and hold it in place over the window. This should do it. Then I heft my shoe by its toe, and take a strong swing, trying to imagine it’s Harris’ face on the other side.
The sound of the impact is muffled. With my arm still covered, I sweep out the remaining glass in the frame. I’m ready to escape. The only trouble is - when they look in on me in the morning, there will be no question what has happened. It won’t help me one jot with shifting suspicion off my back.
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
I put my ear to the keyhole but can make out nothing. Are there still guards posted? Perhaps the component has been found and the crisis is over.
Perhaps the door is unlocked and they left me to sleep? I try the handle. No such luck.
The night draws on at its own pace. I suppose by morning I will know my fate.
I leave the cup exactly where it is. “Why?” I ask coldly. “What’s in it?”
“Lapsang Souchong,” he remarks, placing his own cup down on the table with a clink. “Such a curious flavour. It might almost not be tea at all. You might say it hides a multitude of sins. As do you, isn’t that correct?”
“We’re still in ear-shot if they let Hooper go. Best get us inside and then we can talk, if we must.”
“I’ve had enough of your voice for one day,” Harris replies grimly. He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
“I suppose so,” I reply. “I’ve certainly done things I regret. Things I shouldn’t have done.”
“I see,” Harris answers. “You’ve left yourself open. To pressure. Is that what you’re saying?”
I have a single moment to shout something to Hooper before the door closes.
“I’ll get you Hooper, you’ll see!” I cry. Then:
“I always meant to tell you,” I tell him. “I thought perhaps I could find out who they were. Lead you to them.”
Harris looks at me with contempt. “You wretched little man. Don’t think your tongue will be able to get you out of trouble. You’re going to pay for what you’ve done, and you’re going to pay dearly. If a single man loses his life because of your pride and your perversions then God help your eternal soul. The fact is you committed a crime.” If I had any sense that he understood my predicament, and that he felt for my state of being, it collapses like a chain with a broken link. “You thought you could repair it with another, more serious crime?” He shakes his head. “I thought you men were supposed to be clever. But this is the action of a frightened woman. So I’d like you to tell me, now. Where is it?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
“Then I’ll be going, on and getting on with my job of saving her, shall I?” I even rise half to my feet, before he slams the tabletop.
“Talk,” Harris demands. “Talk, now. Tell me where you’ve hidden it or who you’ve passed it to. Or God help me, but I’ll take your wretched pansy body to pieces looking for it, do you understand me?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
“I don’t think Hooper could have planned this in advance. So he’d need to get word to whoever he’s working with, and that would take time. So I think he would have hidden it somewhere, and be waiting to make sure I soundly take the fall. That way, if anything goes wrong, he can arrange for the part to be conveniently re-found.”
“Makes sense,” Harris agrees, cautiously. I can see he’s still not entirely convinced by my tale, as well he might not be - I’ve hardly been entirely straight with him. “Which means the question is, what can we do to rat him out?”
“Perhaps Hooper had an accomplice. Someone else who works on site.”
Harris shakes his head, distractedly. “That doesn’t make sense,” he says. “Why go to all the trouble of stealing it only to give it back? And why like this?”
No, I am content. I suppose I do not believe they will hang me. They will lock me up and continue to use my brain, if they can. I wonder what they will tell the world - perhaps that I have taken my own life. That would be simplest. The few who know me would believe it.
Well, then. Not a bad existence, in prison. Removed from temptation. A kind of imposed monasticism, with plenty more problems to solve, and more mysteries to fathom.
I wonder what else I might yet unravel before I’m done?
I let him have his rant. He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
“Quite right,” I answer smartly.
He stares back at me. “Let’s get straight to the point. Do you have the component?” Harris demands. “Do you know where it is?”
“You want me to tell you what happened? You’ll be disgusted, I’m quite sure.”
“I can imagine how it starts,” he growls.
“There was a young man, Harris. I met him in the town. A few months ago now. We got to talking - not about work. I said I was an accountant for a firm, just as I was supposed to. Although he seemed to know that wasn’t true. That got me wondering if he wasn’t one of us.”
Harris is not letting me off any more. “You seriously considered that possibility?”
I cast around the small room. There’s a bucket in one corner for emergencies - I suppose I could use that. I pick it up but it’s not very easy to heft. And the noise would be terrible. There must be a way of making this easier. I’m supposed to be a thief now. What would a burglar do?
I have no God to make peace with. I find it difficult to believe in goodness of any kind, in a world such as this.
I have no place here. No way to fit. I am the intercept - caught, in the middle, cryptic and understood only thinly, through devices and machines.
I lift the cup and take a sip, staring him hard in the eye as I do so. He watches as I do so.
“Lapsang Souchong,” he remarks, placing his own cup down on the table with a clink. “Such a curious flavour. It might almost not be tea at all. You might say it hides a multitude of sins. As do you, isn’t that correct?”
“I always meant to tell you,” I tell him. “I thought perhaps I could find out who they were. Lead you to them.”
Harris looks at me with contempt. “You wretched little man. Don’t think your tongue will be able to get you out of trouble. You’re going to pay for what you’ve done, and you’re going to pay dearly. If a single man loses his life because of your pride and your perversions then God help your eternal soul. The fact is you committed a crime.” If I had any sense that he understood my predicament, and that he felt for my state of being, it collapses like a chain with a broken link. “You thought you could repair it with another, more serious crime?” He shakes his head. “I thought you men were supposed to be clever. But this is the action of a frightened woman. So I’d like you to tell me, now. Where is it?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
Enough of this place. Time for me to get moving. I can get to the train station on foot, catch the postal train to Scotland and be somewhere else before anyone realises that I’m gone.
Of course, then they’ll be looking for me in earnest. As a confirmed traitor.
I suppose I do not believe they will hang me. They will lock me up and continue to use my brain, if they can. I wonder what they will tell the world - perhaps that I have taken my own life. That would be simplest. The few who know me would believe it.
Well, then. Not a bad existence, in prison. Removed from temptation. A kind of imposed monasticism, with plenty more problems to solve, and more mysteries to fathom.
I wonder what else I might yet unravel before I’m done?
“Very well then.” I swallow nervously, to make it look more genuine. “No. I passed it on to Hooper.”
“I see. And what did he do with it?”
“None of us are blameless, Harris. But I’ve done nothing to deserve this treatment. Now, please. Let me go. I’ll help you find this damn component, of course I will.”
He appears to consider the offer.
“Tell me, then,” he asks. “What’s your theory? You’re a smart fellow - as smart as they come around here, and that’s saying something. What’s your opinion on the missing component? Accident, perhaps? Or do you blame one of the other men? Hooper?”
“Explain what you should be doing, do you mean, rather than bullying me? Certainly.” I fold my arms. “I know where your component is because it’s obvious where your component is. That doesn’t mean I took it, just because I can figure out a simple problem, any more than it means I’m a German spy because I can crack their codes.”
“Tell me, then,” he asks. “What’s your theory? You’re a smart fellow - as smart as they come around here, and that’s saying something. What’s your opinion on the missing component? Accident, perhaps? Or do you blame one of the other men?”
I cast around the small room. There’s a bucket in one corner for emergencies - I suppose I could use that. I pick it up but it’s not very easy to heft. And the noise would be terrible. There must be a way of making this easier. I’m supposed to be a thief now. What would a burglar do?
I put my ear down to the keyhole, but there’s nothing now. Probably still a guard outside, of course, but they’re keeping mum.
I suppose this must be what it feels like to have a conscience, then. Very well.
“Harris, sir. I don’t know what Hooper’s playing at, sir. But I can’t let him do this.”
“Do what?”
“Take the rope for this. I took it, sir.
The missing component of the Bombe computer is hidden in a small cavity in a breeze-block supporting the left rear post of Hut 2. I put in there anticipating a search. I intended to dispose of it once the fuss had died down. I suppose I was foolish to think that it might."
“I thought as much. I hadn’t expected you to give it out so easily, however. You understand, Hooper has said nothing, of course. In fact, he went to Hut 2 directly after we released him and uncovered the component. But he told us you had instructed him where to go. Hence my little double bluff. Frankly, I’ll be glad when I’m shot of the lot of you mathematicians.”
Harris stands, and slips away smartly. Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
“Oh, yes?”
“Yes. For what that’s worth. There’s still the issue of the component. It hasn’t turned up. He didn’t lead us to it. I guess he figured you must have had something on him. I don’t know.”
He looks quite put out by the whole affair. He is not the kind of man to deal well with ambiguities and probabilities, far preferred the clarity of fact and falsehood.
I shrug, eloquently.
“This is all too far-fetched,” Harris says. “I’m glad to have this back, but I need to think.”
Getting to his feet, he nods once. “You’ll have to wait a little longer, I’m afraid, Manning.”
Then he steps out of the door, muttering to himself.
“I am what I am,” I reply. “I’m the way nature made me. But they’re going to hang me unless you help me, Hooper. Don’t let them hang me.”
“Assuming I wanted to help you,” he replies, carefully. “Which I don’t. What would I do?”
“Nothing. Almost nothing.
All you have to do is go to the back of Hut 2. There’s a breeze-block with a cavity. That’s where I’ve put it. I’ll be locked up overnight, I should think. But you can pick it up and pass it to my contact. He’ll be at the south fence around two AM."
“If you think I’ll do that then you’re crazy,” Hooper replies.
At that moment the door flies open and the Captain comes storming back inside.
Harris hustles me over to the barracks. “I hope that’s the end of it,” he mutters as he pushes me up the steps.
“Just be sure to let him out,” I reply. “And then see where he goes.”
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
Enough of this place. Time for me to get moving. I can get to the train station on foot, catch the postal train to Scotland and be somewhere else before anyone realises that I’m gone.
Of course, then they’ll be looking for me in earnest. As a confirmed traitor.
“I’m no traitor, damn it. You know I’m not. How much work have I done here? Against the Germans? Cracking their codes? Understanding their secrets? I’ve given it my all! And you know as well as I do, if the Reich were to invade, I would be a dead man for being what I am. So please, Hooper. I’m not doing any of this lightly. But I’m in a jam!”
“Assuming I wanted to help you,” he replies, carefully. “Which I don’t. What would I do?”
“Nothing. Almost nothing.
All you have to do is go to the back of Hut 2. There’s a breeze-block with a cavity. That’s where I’ve put it. I’ll be locked up overnight, I should think. But you can pick it up and pass it to my contact. He’ll be at the south fence around two AM."
“If you think I’ll do that then you’re crazy,” Hooper replies.
At that moment the door flies open and the Captain comes storming back inside.
Harris hustles me over to the barracks. “I hope that’s the end of it,” he mutters as he pushes me up the steps.
“Just be sure to let him out,” I reply. “And then see where he goes.”
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
“I know nothing about it.” My voice is shaking as I try to speak. I’m not accustomed to facing off against the Commander - against any man with a gun in his holster. “I don’t know what gives you the right to pick on me. Shouldn’t I have a lawyer?”
“This is time of war,” Harris answers. His tone of voice has fallen down into darkness. “And by God, if I have to shoot you to recover the component or stop it falling into the wrong hands, I will, do you understand me?”
There’s an icy silence. He’s angry at my slippery answers. He waves an impetuous hand across the field table.
“Now, drink your tea and talk.”
“Now steady on,” I reply, gesturing for him to calm himself.
“Talk,” Harris demands. “Talk, now. Tell me where you’ve hidden it or who you’ve passed it to. Or God help me, but I’ll take your wretched pansy body to pieces looking for it, do you understand me?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
I put my ear down to the keyhole, but there’s nothing now. Probably still a guard outside, of course, but they’re keeping mum.
“It’s not that bad. I can still fix it.”
Harris shakes his head. “This isn’t a problem to be cracked. This isn’t a puzzle. I’m sorry, but this is bigger than you now. Look. You can go to prison for what you’ve done, or we can change your identity and move you somewhere where your... indiscretions... can’t hurt anyone any more. But right now none of that matters. What happens to you, doesn’t matter. All that matters is where that component is. So I’d like you to tell me, now. Where is it?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
“I don’t know.”
“You can do better than that. Remember, there’s a hangman’s noose waiting for traitors.”
I slip off my jacket and hold it with one hand over the glass. This should do it. Then I heft my shoe by its toe, and take a strong swing, trying to imagine it’s Harris’ face on the other side.
The sound of the impact is muffled. With my arm still covered, I sweep out the remaining glass in the frame. I’m ready to escape. The only trouble is - when they look in on me in the morning, there will be no question what has happened. It won’t help me one jot with shifting suspicion off my back.
“All right. I’ll tell you what happened.” And never mind my shame, I think.
“I can imagine how it starts,” he growls.
“There was a young man, Harris. I met him in the town. A few months ago now. We got to talking - not about work, you understand. I said I was an accountant for a firm, just as I was supposed to. Although he seemed to know that wasn’t true. That got me wondering if he wasn’t one of us.”
Harris is not letting me off any more. “You seriously considered that possibility?”
“Ask not for whom the bell tolls!”
He stares back at me, as if were a madman and perhaps for a split second I see him shudder.
The Captain comes outside, pulling the door to. “What’s this?” he asks. “A confession? Just like that?”
“No,” the Commander admits, in a low voice. “I’m afraid not. Rather more a scheme. The idea is to let Hooper go and see what he does. If he believes we have Manning here in irons, he’ll try to shift the component.”
“If he has it.”
“Indeed.”
The Captain peers at me for a moment, like I was some kind of curious insect.
“Sometimes, I think you people are magicians,” he remarks. “Other times you seem more like witches. Very well.”
With that he opens the door to the Hut and goes back inside. The Commander uses the moment to hustle me roughly forward.
“And what was all that shouting about?” he hisses in my ear as we move towards the barracks. “Are you trying to pull something? Or just make me look incompetent?”
“Then you’d better get searching,” I reply, tiring of his complaining. A war is a war, you have to expect an enemy. “It’s your problem. Your security breach. So much for your careful vetting process.” I lean back in my chair and fold my arms so the way they shake will not be visible. “You’d better get on with solving it, instead of wasting your time in here with me.”
Harris harrumphs. He’s thinking it all over.
“Well, I’m glad his conscience finally caught up with him,” I reply dismissively.
“The Captain went back into that hut and he confessed immediately. We were so surprised we didn’t let you go.” He wrinkles his nose. “I’m rather sorry about that now, but I suppose we’ll let you go know. I suggest you have a wash.”
And with that he gestures to the doorway.
“The Captain thought it was a good scheme. You’ll most likely get a promotion.”
“Let’s hope things work out,” Harris agrees darkly.
He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
I set the cup carefully down on the table once more. “Why?” I ask coldly. “What’s in it?”
“Lapsang Souchong,” he remarks, placing his own cup down on the table with a clink. “Such a curious flavour. It might almost not be tea at all. You might say it hides a multitude of sins. As do you, isn’t that correct?”
I let him have his rant. He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
“I broke it,” I reply. There doesn’t seem any use in trying to lie. “I thought I could escape. But I couldn’t get myself through.”
The Commander laughs. “Shame,” he remarks. “I should have left that window open and put a guard on you. Might have been interesting to see where you went. Anyway, I’m glad you’re still here, even if you do smell like a dog.”
“No.”
“Too bad.” Harris opens the door and pushes me inside. “Captain,” he calls. “Could I have a moment?”
The Captain, looking puzzled, steps out. The door is closed. Hooper stares at me, open-mouthed, about to say something. I probably have less than a minute before the Captain storms back in and declares this plan to be bunkum.
“Right now, I think you take that role, Harris,” I reply coolly.
“Very droll,” he replies. “Let me tell you what happened this morning, and see if it takes the smile off your face. Our men watching Hooper’s tent saw Hooper wake up, get dressed, clamber out of his tent and then remark with surprise as, while looking for his shoes, he stumbled on something just at the entrance of his tent.”
“I’m looking forward to a long bath,” I reply. “And getting back to work.”
“Well, I’m afraid it is going to get worse for you,” Harris replies soberly. “We followed Hooper, and he took himself neatly to bed and slept like a boy scout. Which puts us back to square one, and you firmly in the frame. And I’m afraid I don’t have time for any more games. I want you to tell me where that component is, or we will hang you as a traitor.”
He passes a hand across his eyes with a long look of despair.
“I’m going to go outside and organise a rope. That’ll take about twelve minutes. That’s how long you have to decide.”
“I can’t remember.”
He draws his gun and lays it lightly on the field table.
“I’m sorry to threaten you, friend. But His Majesty needs that brain of yours, and that brain alone. There are plenty of other parts to you that our country could do better without. Now I’ll ask you again. Did you hide the component?”
“I saw Hooper take it.”
“Did you?” The worst of his rage is passing; he is now moving into a kind of contemptuous despair. I can imagine him wrapping up our interview soon, leaving the hut, locking the door, and dropping the key down the well in the yard. And why wouldn’t he? With my name tarnished they will not let me back to work on the Bombe - if there is the slightest smell of treachery about my name I would be lucky not be locked up for the remainder of the war. “I wish you’d stop with your deceptions and get to the truth, man. Every minute matters.”
It’s useless. There’s nothing I can do but hope. I sit down on one corner of the bunk to wait.
Night falls. The clockwork of the heavens keeps turning, whatever state I might be in. No-one can steal the components that make the sun go down and the stars come out. I watch it performing its operations. I can’t sleep.
I suppose I do not believe they will hang me. They will lock me up and continue to use my brain, if they can. I wonder what they will tell the world - perhaps that I have taken my own life. That would be simplest. The few who know me would believe it.
Well, then. Not a bad existence, in prison. Removed from temptation. A kind of imposed monasticism, with plenty more problems to solve, and more mysteries to fathom.
I wonder what else I might yet unravel before I’m done?
“You mean he confessed of his own accord? You didn’t catch him?”
“The Captain went back into that hut and he confessed immediately. We were so surprised we didn’t let you go.” He wrinkles his nose. “I’m rather sorry about that now, but I suppose we’ll let you go know. I suggest you have a wash.”
And with that he gestures to the doorway.
“No, Harris. The young man wasn’t blackmailing me.” I take a deep breath. “It was Hooper.”
“Now look here,” Harris interrupts. “Don’t start that again.”
“It’s the truth, Harris. If I’m going to jail, then so be it, but I won’t hang at Traitor’s Gate. Hooper was the one who told the boy about our work. Hooper put the boy on to me. I should have realised, of course. These things don’t happen by chance. I was a fool to think they might. And then, once he had me compromised, he demanded I steal the part from the machine.”
“Which you did.” Harris leans forward. “And then what? You still have it? You put it somewhere?”
If I leave the component here somewhere it should be somewhere I can rely on Hooper finding it, but no-one before Hooper. In particular.
“Absolutely.”
Harris opens the door and pushes me inside. “Captain,” he calls. “Could I have a moment?”
The Captain, looking puzzled, steps out. The door is closed. Hooper stares at me, open-mouthed, about to say something. I probably have less than a minute before the Captain storms back in and declares this plan to be bunkum.
“No. It’s not treason. It’s a trade, plain and simple.”
“If you think I’ll do that then you’re crazy,” Hooper replies.
At that moment the door flies open and the Captain comes storming back inside.
Harris hustles me over to the barracks. “I hope that’s the end of it,” he mutters as he pushes me up the steps.
“Just be sure to let him out,” I reply. “And then see where he goes.”
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
There is nothing I can do to speed up time. The night draws on at its own pace. I suppose by morning I will know my fate.
The bucket? Hardly. The bucket might do some good if I wanted to sweep up the glass afterwards, but it won’t help me smash the glass quietly.
“It’s not that bad. I can still fix it.”
Harris shakes his head. “This isn’t a problem to be cracked. This isn’t a puzzle. I’m sorry, but this is bigger than you now. Look. You can go to prison for what you’ve done, or we can change your identity and move you somewhere where your... indiscretions... can’t hurt anyone any more. But right now none of that matters. What happens to you, doesn’t matter. All that matters is where that component is. So I’d like you to tell me, now. Where is it?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
Ah, but of course! I slip off one shoe and heft it by the toe. The heel will make a decent enough hammer, if I give it enough wallop.
But I’ll cut my hand to ribbons doing it. And the noise would be terrible. There must be a way of making this easier. I’m supposed to be a thief now. What would a burglar do?
“If I wanted to escape, I would have made damn sure that I could,” I tell him sternly.
“Well, I’m afraid it is going to get worse for you,” Harris replies soberly. “We followed Hooper, and he took himself neatly to bed and slept like a boy scout. Which puts us back to square one, and you firmly in the frame. And I’m afraid I don’t have time for any more games. I want you to tell me where that component is, or we will hang you as a traitor.”
He passes a hand across his eyes with a long look of despair.
“I’m going to go outside and organise a rope. That’ll take about twelve minutes. That’s how long you have to decide.”
Let me see. There’s the bunk, nothing else. I have my jacket but nothing in the pockets - no handkerchief, for instance.
“Yes.”
Harris stares back at me.
“I see.” There’s a long pause, like the endless delay between feeding in a line of cypher to the Bombe and waiting for its valves and cylinders to heat up enough to being processing. “Would you like to explain?”
“All right,” he declares, gruffly. “We’ll try it. But if this doesn’t work, I might just put the both of you in front of a firing squad and be done with these games. Worse things happen in time of war, you know.”
“Alone,” I add.
“Alone?”
“Alone.”
Harris considers it. I watch his eyes, flicking backwards and forwards over mine, like a ribbon-reader trying to load in its program.
“Tell Hooper I’ve confessed. In fact, better yet, let him see you march me off in handcuffs. Then let him go, and watch him. Ten to one he’ll go straight to wherever he’s hidden that component and his game will be up.”
Harris nods slowly, chewing over the idea. It isn’t a bad plan even - except, of course, Hooper has not hidden the component, and won’t lead them anywhere. But that’s a problem I might be able to solve once I’m out of this place; and once they’re busy, dogging Hooper’s steps from hut to hut.
“It’s an interesting idea,” the Commander muses. “But I’m not so sure he’ll be that stupid. And if he’s already passed the part on, well, the whole thing will only be a waste of time.”
“I don’t know what gives you the right to pick on me. Shouldn’t I have a lawyer?”
“This is time of war,” Harris answers. His tone of voice has fallen down into darkness. “And by God, if I have to shoot you to recover the component or stop it falling into the wrong hands, I will, do you understand me?”
There’s an icy silence. He’s angry. He waves an impetuous hand across the field table.
“Now, drink your tea and talk.”
“All right. All right. That’s exactly what happened.”
“Shame,” he remarks. “I should have left that window open and put a guard on you. Might have been interesting to see where you went. Anyway, I’m glad you’re still here, even if you do smell like a dog.”
I put my ear down to the keyhole, but there’s nothing now. Probably still a guard outside, of course, but they’re keeping mum.
A neat idea strikes me. If I could place it on top of the canvas, somewhere in the middle where it would bow the cloth inwards, then it would be invisible to anyone passing by. But to Hooper, it would be above him: a shadow staring him in the face as he awoke. What could be more natural than getting up, coming out, and looking to see what had fallen on him during the night?
It’s the work of a moment. I was once an excellent bowler for the second XI back at school. This time I throw underarm, of course, but I still land the vital missing component exactly where I want it to go.
For a second I hold my breath, but nothing and no-one stirs. Satisfied, I return the short way up the paths between the huts to the barrack block and the broken window.
It’s a little harder getting back through - the window is higher off the ground than the floor inside - but after a decent bit of jumping and hauling I manage to get my elbows up, and then one leg, and finally I collapse inside, quite winded and out breath.
“I was quite certain, after a while. After we’d been talking. He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
“No. I have no idea.”
He’s talking about the missing reel from the Bombe. Russell discovered it this afternoon when the machine began producing strange results. We were all in the Hut when it happened and it had been in place when we sat down to work. The conclusions had been obvious to all four of us immediately, but had gone undiscussed, even after the empty socket was located, the wiring torn on either side.
“Lucky these things are easy to replace,” Russell had remarked, and that had been that. We had stopped work, sent out for a new part to be machined. And drunk our tea and watched each other.
“Come now,” Harris says, quite the reasonable gent. “As I told you. We’re not interviewing everyone. Only you. So. I think you can be a little more forthcoming.”
The bunk has a solid metal frame, a blanket, a pillow, nothing more.
I suppose I do not believe they will hang me. They will lock me up and continue to use my brain, if they can. I wonder what they will tell the world - perhaps that I have taken my own life. That would be simplest. The few who know me would believe it.
Well, then. Not a bad existence, in prison. Removed from temptation. A kind of imposed monasticism, with plenty more problems to solve, and more mysteries to fathom.
I wonder what else I might yet unravel before I’m done?
“What could I do?” I’m shaking now. The night is cold and the heat-lamp in this hut has been removed, presumably to keep me alert and on edge. “I don’t want to go to prison.”
“You committed a crime,” Harris answers. If I had any sense that he understood my predicament, and that he felt for my state of being, it collapses like a chain with a broken link. “You thought you could repair it with another, more serious crime?” He shakes his head. “I thought you men were supposed to be clever. But this is the action of a frightened woman. So I’d like you to tell me, now. Where is it?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
“I know nothing about it.” My voice is shaking as I try to speak. I’m not accustomed to facing off against the Commander - against any man with a gun in his holster. “I don’t know what gives you the right to pick on me. Shouldn’t I have a lawyer?”
“This is time of war,” Harris answers. His tone of voice has fallen down into darkness. “And by God, if I have to shoot you to recover the component or stop it falling into the wrong hands, I will, do you understand me?”
There’s an icy silence. He’s angry. He waves an impetuous hand across the field table.
“Now, drink your tea and talk.”
I wait a few minutes, to be sure Hooper and the Captain will have gone, then try the door. It’s locked, all right. I’m not really one for picking locks. Never tried it. I don’t think I’ll be getting out that way.
“Only that this process is unreasonable, and I believe you’re behaving like a swine.”
“You imbecile,” Harris replies, with sudden force. He is half out of his chair. “You know the situation as well as I do, so why all this fencing? The Hun are poised like rats, ready to run all over this country. They’ll destroy everything, you do understand that, don’t you? You’re not so locked up inside your crossword puzzles that you don’t see that, are you? And this machine we have here - you men - you are the best and only hope this country has. God help her.”
I sit back, startled by the force of his outburst. His carefully sculpted expression has curled to angry disgust and there is spit flecking his lips. He really does hate me, I think. He’ll have my neck just for the taste of it.
“I can’t remember.”
He draws his gun and lays it lightly on the field table.
“I’m sorry to threaten you, friend. But His Majesty needs that brain of yours, and that brain alone. There are plenty of other parts to you that our country could do better without. Now I’ll ask you again. Did you hide the component?”
“Explain what you should be doing, do you mean, rather than bullying me? Certainly.” I fold my arms. “I know where your component is because it’s obvious where your component is. That doesn’t mean I took it, just because I can figure out a simple problem, any more than it means I’m a German spy because I can crack their codes.”
“Tell me, then,” he asks. “What’s your theory? You’re a smart fellow - as smart as they come around here, and that’s saying something. What’s your opinion on the missing component? Accident, perhaps? Or do you blame one of the other men? Hooper?”
I go over to the window and try to jimmy it open. Not much luck, but in my struggling I notice this window only backs on the thin little brook that runs down the back of the compound. Which means, if I smashed it, I might get away with no-one seeing.
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
“I’ve done nothing that I’m ashamed of.”
“Tell me, then,” he asks. “What’s your theory? You’re a smart fellow - as smart as they come around here, and that’s saying something. What’s your opinion on the missing component? Accident, perhaps? Or do you blame one of the other men?”
“I suppose so,” I reply. “I’ve certainly done things I regret. Things I shouldn’t have done.”
“I see,” Harris answers. “You’ve left yourself open. To pressure. Is that what you’re saying?”
I have no God to make peace with. I find it difficult to believe in goodness of any kind, in a world such as this.
But I am no traitor. At least, not to my country. To my sex, perhaps. But how could I support the Reich? If it were to come to power, I would be worse off than under the already dire circumstances of my existence.
I have no place here. No way to fit. I am the intercept - caught, in the middle, cryptic and understood only thinly, through devices and machines.
“Quite right,” I answer smartly.
He stares back at me. “Let’s get straight to the point. Do you have the component?” Harris demands. “Do you know where it is?”
“No, Harris. The young man wasn’t blackmailing me.” I take a deep breath. “It was Hooper.”
“Now look here,” Harris interrupts. “Don’t start that again.”
“It’s the truth, Harris. If I’m going to jail, then so be it, but I won’t hang at Traitor’s Gate. Hooper was the one who told the boy about our work. Hooper put the boy on to me. And then, once he had me compromised, he demanded I steal the part from the machine.”
“Which you did.” Harris leans forward. “And then what? You still have it? You put it somewhere?”
Ah, but of course! I slip off one shoe and heft it by the toe. The heel will make a decent enough hammer, if I give it enough wallop.
But I’ll cut my hand to ribbons doing it. And the noise would be terrible. There must be a way of making this easier. I’m supposed to be a thief now. What would a burglar do?
I put my ear to the keyhole but can make out nothing. Are there still guards posted? Perhaps the component has been found and the crisis is over.
Perhaps the door is unlocked and they left me to sleep? I try the handle. No such luck.
The night draws on at its own pace. I suppose by morning I will know my fate.
“Now steady on,” I reply, gesturing for him to calm himself.
“Talk,” Harris demands. “Talk, now. Tell me where you’ve hidden it or who you’ve passed it to. Or God help me, but I’ll take your wretched pansy body to pieces looking for it, do you understand me?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
“I don’t need twelve minutes. Here it is.”
I open my jacket and pull the Bombe component out of my pocket. Harris takes it from me, whistling, curious.
“Well, I’ll be. That’s it all right.”
“That’s it.”
“But you didn’t have it on you yesterday.”
“When you have eliminated the impossible...” I begin, but Harris cuts me off.
“We are left with two possibilities, quite clearly. You, or Hooper.” The Commander pauses to smooth down his moustache. “Hooper’s in Hut 3 with the Captain, having a similar conversation.”
I toss the component away into the bushes behind Hooper’s tent and return to my barrack, wishing myself a long sleep followed by a morning, free of this business.
Satisfied, I return the short way up the paths between the huts to the barrack block and the broken window.
It’s a little harder getting back through - the window is higher off the ground than the floor inside - but after a decent bit of jumping and hauling I manage to get my elbows up, and then one leg, and finally I collapse inside, quite winded and out breath.
It won’t take a moment to settle the matter. I can justify a walk past Hut 2 as part of my morning stroll. It will be obvious in a moment if the component is still there.
On my way across the paddocks, between the huts and the House, I catch sight of young Miss Lyon, arriving for work on her bicycle. She giggles as she sees me and waves.
The window is my only way out of here. I just need a way to smash it.
The blanket. Perfect. I scoop it up off the bed and hold it in place over the window. This should do it. Then I heft the bucket - this really is quite a fiddly thing to be doing, and I need far longer arms, especially in cuffs - and take a strong swing, trying to imagine it’s Harris’ face on the other side.
The sound of the impact is muffled. With my arm still covered, I sweep out the remaining glass in the frame. I’m ready to escape. The only trouble is - when they look in on me in the morning, there will be no question what has happened. It won’t help me one jot with shifting suspicion off my back.
The bunk has a solid metal frame, a blanket, a pillow, nothing more.
“No. Not for more than a moment, of course. Everyone here is marked out by how little we would be willing to say about it.”
“Only you told this young man more than a little, didn’t you?”
I nod. “He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
I peer out of the window, but it looks out onto the little brook at the back of the compound, with no view of the other huts or the House. Who knows if there are men up, searching the base of Hut 2, following one another with flashlights...
The night draws on at its own pace. I suppose by morning I will know my fate.
“I don’t think Hooper could have planned this in advance. So he’d need to get word to whoever he’s working with, and that would take time. So I think he would have hidden it somewhere, and be waiting to make sure I soundly take the fall. That way, if anything goes wrong, he can arrange for the part to be conveniently re-found.”
“Makes sense,” Harris agrees, cautiously. I can see he’s still not certain whether he can trust me. “Which means the question is, what can we do to rat him out?”
“Very well. I see there’s no point in covering up. You know everything anyway.”
Harris nods, and waits for me to continue.
“There was a young man, Harris. I met him in the town. A few months ago now. We got to talking - not about work. I said I was an accountant for a firm, just as I was supposed to. Although he seemed to know that wasn’t true. That got me wondering if he wasn’t one of us.”
Harris is not letting me off any more. “You seriously considered that possibility?”
I go over to the window and try to jimmy it open. Not much luck, but in my struggling I notice this window only backs on the thin little brook that runs down the back of the compound. Which means, if I smashed it, I might get away with no-one seeing.
From outside, I hear a voice. Hooper’s. He’s haranguing someone, for something.
It’s no good. That’s only half a solution. I couldn’t be happy with that.
“For God’s sake,” I answer, voice quivering. “I’m no traitor.”
He stares back at me. “Let’s get straight to the point. Do you have the component?” Harris demands. “Do you know where it is?”
“I can imagine how being surrounded by clever men is pretty threatening for you, Commander,” I reply with a sneer. “They don’t train you to think in the Armed Forces.”
“Talk,” Harris demands. “Talk, now. Tell me where you’ve hidden it or who you’ve passed it to. Or God help me, but I’ll take your wretched pansy body to pieces looking for it, do you understand me?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
I say nothing, my lips tightly, firmly sealed. It’s true I am a traitor, to the very laws of nature. The world has taught me that since a very early age. But not to my country - should the Reich win this war, I would hardly be treated as an honoured hero. I was doomed from the very start.
I explain none of this. How could a man like Harris understand?
The Commander takes one look back from the doorway as he pulls it to.
“It’s been a pleasure working with you, Mr Manning,” he declares. “You’ve done a great service to this country. If we come through, I’m sure they’ll remember you name. I’m sorry it had to end this way and I’ll do my best to keep it quiet. No-one need know what you did.”
Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
“He has? I knew he would. The worm.”
“Steady now. Matters aren’t over yet. There’s still the issue of the component. It hasn’t turned up. He didn’t lead us to it. I guess he figured you must have had something on him. I don’t know.”
He looks quite put out by the whole affair. He is not the kind of man to deal well with ambiguities and probabilities, far preferred the clarity of fact and falsehood.
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
It’s useless. There’s nothing I can do but hope. I sit down on one corner of the bunk to wait.
Night falls. The clockwork of the heavens keeps turning, whatever state I might be in. No-one can steal the components that make the sun go down and the stars come out. I watch it performing its operations. I can’t sleep.
“Yes. Something like that. It’s a very lonely life otherwise. And the work we do - well. It only makes it worse. There’s barely a moment to oneself.”
“That’s how it is in the Service,” Harris answers. “I know you didn’t sign up for it but, well. There’s plenty of other men who didn’t who are serving now, too. Now, go on with your confession.”
That gives me pause, for a moment. I hadn’t thought of it as such. But I suppose that’s what this is. I am about to admit what I did, after all.
“There’s not much else to say. I took the part from Bombe computing device. You seem to know that already. I had to. He was going to expose me if I didn’t.”
“This young man was blackmailing you over your affair?”
As Harris speaks I find myself suddenly sharply aware, as if waking from a long sleep. The table, the corrugated walls of the hut, everything seems suddenly more tangible than a moment before. Perhaps whatever it was they put in my drink is wearing off?
Enough of this place. Time for me to get moving. I can get to the train station on foot, catch the postal train to Scotland and be somewhere else before anyone realises that I’m gone.
Of course, then they’ll be looking for me in earnest. As a confirmed traitor.
“I’ll talk to him.”
“What?”
“Put me in with Hooper. Maybe I can get something useful out of him. As his colleague.”
Harris shakes his head. “He despises you, doesn’t he? I don’t see why he’d give himself up to you.”
“I am what I am,” I reply. “I’m the way nature made me. But they’re going to hang me unless you help me, Hooper. Don’t let them hang me.”
“Assuming I wanted to help you,” he replies, carefully. “Which I don’t. What would I do?”
“Nothing. Almost nothing.
All you have to do is go to the back of Hut 2. There’s a breeze-block with a cavity. That’s where I’ve put it. I’ll be locked up overnight, I should think. But you can pick it up and pass it to my contact. He’ll be at the south fence around two AM."
“If you think I’ll do that then you’re crazy,” Hooper replies.
At that moment the door flies open and the Captain comes storming back inside.
Harris hustles me over to the barracks. “I hope that’s the end of it,” he mutters as he pushes me up the steps.
“Just be sure to let him out,” I reply. “And then see where he goes.”
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
I wait a few minutes, to be sure Hooper and the Captain will have gone, then try the door. It’s locked, all right. I’m not really one for picking locks. Never tried it. I don’t think I’ll be getting out that way.
Enough of this. There isn’t any time to lose. Right now they’ll be following Hooper as he goes to bed, and goes to sleep; and then that’s it. The minute he closes his eyelids and drifts off that’s the moment that this trap swings shut on me.
So I punch out the glass with my bucket and it shatters with a terrific noise. Then I stop, and wait, to see if anyone will come in through the door.
Nothing.
“So would you after the night I’ve had.”
“Well, I’m afraid it is going to get worse for you,” Harris replies soberly. “We followed Hooper, and he took himself neatly to bed and slept like a boy scout. Which puts us back to square one, and you firmly in the frame. And I’m afraid I don’t have time for any more games. I want you to tell me where that component is, or we will hang you as a traitor.”
He passes a hand across his eyes with a long look of despair.
“I’m going to go outside and organise a rope. That’ll take about twelve minutes. That’s how long you have to decide.”
“I always meant to tell you,” I tell him. “I thought perhaps I could find out who they were. Lead you to them.”
Harris looks at me with contempt. “You wretched little man. Don’t think your tongue will be able to get you out of trouble. You’re going to pay for what you’ve done, and you’re going to pay dearly. If a single man loses his life because of your pride and your perversions then God help your eternal soul. The fact is you committed a crime.” If I had any sense that he understood my predicament, and that he felt for my state of being, it collapses like a chain with a broken link. “You thought you could repair it with another, more serious crime?” He shakes his head. “I thought you men were supposed to be clever. But this is the action of a frightened woman. So I’d like you to tell me, now. Where is it?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
Then pause. This is too transparent. Too blatant. If I leave it here, like this, Hooper will never be seen to go looking for it: he will stumble over it in plain sight, and the men watching will wonder why it was not there when he went to bed.
No, I must try something else - or nothing at all.
“For God’s sake, man, what do you have to lose?”
“We’ll be outside the door,” Harris replies, seriously. “The first sign of any funny business and we’ll have you both on the floor in minutes. You understand? The country needs your brain, but it’s not too worried about your legs. Remember that.”
Then he gets to his feet, and opens the door, and marches me out and across the yard. The evening is drawing in and there’s a chill in the air. My mind is racing. I have one opportunity here - a moment in which to put the fear of God into Hooper and make him do something foolish to place himself in harm’s way. But how to achieve it?
“You ready?” Harris demands.
I say nothing, my lips tightly, firmly sealed. It’s true I am a traitor, to the very laws of nature. The world has taught me that since a very early age. But not to my country - should the Reich win this war, I would hardly be treated as an honoured hero. I was doomed from the very start.
I explain none of this. How could a man like Harris understand?
The Commander takes one look back from the doorway as he pulls it to.
“It’s been a pleasure working with you, Mr Manning,” he declares. “You’ve done a great service to this country. If we come through, I’m sure they’ll remember you name. I’m sorry it had to end this way and I’ll do my best to keep it quiet. No-one need know what you did.”
The Commander holds the door for his superior, and follows him out. Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
“Ask not for whom the bell tolls!”
He stares back at me, as if were a madman and perhaps for a split second I see him shudder.
The Captain comes outside, pulling the door to. “What’s this?” he asks. “A confession? Just like that?”
“No,” the Commander admits, in a low voice. “I’m afraid not. Rather more a scheme. The idea is to let Hooper go and see what he does. If he believes we have Manning here in irons, he’ll try to shift the component.”
“If he has it.”
“Indeed.”
The Captain peers at me for a moment, like I was some kind of curious insect.
“Sometimes, I think you people are magicians,” he remarks. “Other times you seem more like witches. Very well.”
With that he opens the door to the Hut and goes back inside. The Commander uses the moment to hustle me roughly forward.
“And what was all that shouting about?” he hisses in my ear as we move towards the barracks. “Are you trying to pull something? Or just make me look incompetent?”
With my jacket wrapped round my arm, I sweep out the remaining shards of glass. It’s not a big window, but I’m not a big man. If I was Harris, I’d be stuffed, but as it is...
Then the door locks turns. The door opens. Then Jeremy - one of the guards, rather - sticks his head through the door. “I thought I heard...”
He stops. Looks for a moment. Sees the broken window. Then without a moment’s further thought he blows his shrill whistles and hustles into the hut, grabbing me roughly by my arms.
I’m hustled into one of the huts. Nowhere to sleep, but they’re not interested in my comfort any longer. Harris comes in with the Captain.
“So,” Harris remarks. “Looks like your little trap worked. Only it worked to show you out for what you are.”
I slide the component into the tent, work the zip closed, and move quickly away into the shadows. It takes a few minutes for my breath to slow, and my heart to stop hammering, but I see no other movement. If anyone is watching Hooper’s tent, they are asleep at their posts.
Satisfied, I return the short way up the paths between the huts to the barrack block and the broken window.
It’s a little harder getting back through - the window is higher off the ground than the floor inside - but after a decent bit of jumping and hauling I manage to get my elbows up, and then one leg, and finally I collapse inside, quite winded and out breath.
“And the other men? Do we have a hut each? Surely there aren’t enough senior officers to go round.”
“Collins and Humph were outside when the theft occurred. Everyone confirms that,” Harris replies. “That leaves you, Hooper, and the other two, who vouch for each other and frankly I’m inclined to believe them. But that’s all we know. No-one here is in the business of guessing, you know that. Our business is to decode. To get to the bottom of whatever’s going on. You’ve not placed yourself beyond suspicion and until you do so...” Harris shrugs. “I’m afraid I have fewer and fewer choices as time goes on. If that component has left these grounds then every minute is critical.”
“Then let him think he’s off the hook. Make a show of me. And then you’ll get your man.”
Somehow, I think. But that’s the part I need to work.
Harris gets to his feet. “All right,” he says. “I should no better than to trust a clever man, but we’ll give it a go.” Then, he smiles, with all his teeth, like a wolf. “Hooper’s in Hut 3 being debriefed by the Captain. Let’s see if we can’t get his attention somehow.”
He raps on the door for the guard and gives the man a quick instruction. He returns a moment later with a cool pair of iron cuffs.
“Put ‘em up,” Harris instructs, and I do so. The metal closes around my wrists like a trap. I stand and follow Harris willingly out through the door.
But whatever I’m doing with my body, my mind is scheming. Somehow, I’m thinking, I have to get away from these men long enough to get that component behind Hut 2 and put it somewhere Hooper will go. Or, otherwise, somehow get Hooper to go there himself...
Harris marches me over to Hut 3, and gestures for the guard to stand aside. Pushing me forward, he opens the door nice and wide.
“Captain. Manning talked. If you’d step out for a moment?”
“No, I don’t. I’ve got work I should be doing tomorrow, and I need my rest...”
“Work that will be difficult for you to do, don’t you think?” Harris replies.
“They’ll have made a replacement by tomorrow,” I reply. “The war doesn’t stop over one missing reel.”
The reel went missing from the Bombe this afternoon. The four of us were in the Hut at the time, working on the latest intercept. It was Russell who noticed the machine producing strange results and found the gap in its plugboard. But as to who took it - it could have been any of us.
And indeed, it must have been. The machine had been functioning as normal when we began our calculations. And then, a short few hours later, it was gone. We had to stop. There was nothing more we could do until it was replaced. The part was vital, just as the machine was vital, and so were the contents of the message, still unread twenty four hours later.
“Let’s get straight to the point. Do you have the component?” Harris demands. “Do you know where it is?”
Enough of this. There isn’t any time to lose. Right now they’ll be following Hooper as he goes to bed, and goes to sleep; and then that’s it. The minute he closes his eyelids and drifts off that’s the moment that this trap swings shut on me.
So I punch out the glass with my shoe and it shatters with a terrific noise. Then I stop, and wait, to see if anyone will come in through the door.
Nothing.
“Yes, I considered it. He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
The blanket. Perfect. I scoop it up off the bed and hold it in place over the window. This should do it. Then I heft my shoe by its toe, and take a strong swing, trying to imagine it’s Harris’ face on the other side.
The sound of the impact is muffled. With my arm still covered, I sweep out the remaining glass in the frame. I’m ready to escape. The only trouble is - when they look in on me in the morning, there will be no question what has happened. It won’t help me one jot with shifting suspicion off my back.
“When you have eliminated the impossible...” I begin, but Harris cuts me off.
“We are left with two possibilities, quite clearly. You, or Hooper.” The Commander pauses to smooth down his moustache. “Hooper’s in Hut 3 with the Captain, having a similar conversation.”
I go over to the window and try to jimmy it open. Not much luck, but in my struggling I notice this window only backs on the thin little brook that runs down the back of the compound. Which means, if I smashed it, I might get away with no-one seeing.
I leave the cup exactly where it is. “Why?” I ask coldly. “What’s in it?”
“Lapsang Souchong,” he remarks, placing his own cup down on the table with a clink. “Such a curious flavour. It might almost not be tea at all. You might say it hides a multitude of sins. As do you, isn’t that correct?”
“No. Not for more than a moment, of course. Everyone here is marked out by how little we would be willing to say about it.”
“Only you told this young man more than a little, didn’t you?”
I nod. “He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
“Then I’ll be going, on and getting on with my job of saving her, shall I?” I even rise half to my feet, before he slams the tabletop.
“Talk,” Harris demands. “Talk, now. Tell me where you’ve hidden it or who you’ve passed it to. Or God help me, but I’ll take your wretched pansy body to pieces looking for it, do you understand me?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
“No. I have no idea.”
“Come now,” Harris says, quite the reasonable gent. “I think you can be a little more forthcoming.”
The bucket? Hardly. The bucket might do some good if I wanted to sweep up the glass afterwards, but it won’t help me smash the glass quietly.
I suppose I do not believe they will hang me. They will lock me up and continue to use my brain, if they can. I wonder what they will tell the world - perhaps that I have taken my own life. That would be simplest. The few who know me would believe it.
Well, then. Not a bad existence, in prison. Removed from temptation. A kind of imposed monasticism, with plenty more problems to solve, and more mysteries to fathom.
I wonder what else I might yet unravel before I’m done?
“Of my standing. My reputation.” I’m aware of how arrogant I must sound but I plough on all the same. “Hooper simply can’t bear knowing that, once all this is over, I’ll be the one receiving the knighthood and he...”
“No-one will be getting a knighthood if the Germans invade,” Harris answers sharply. He casts a quick eye to the door of the Hut to check the latch is still down, then continues in more of a murmur: “Not you and not Hooper. Now answer me.” For the first time since the door closed, I wonder what the threat might be if I do not.
“Let’s get straight to the point. Do you have the component?” Harris demands. “Do you know where it is?”
Morning comes. I’m woken by a rooster calling from the yard behind the House. I must have slept after all. I pull myself up from the bunk, shivering slightly. There is condensation on the inside of the window. I have probably given myself a chill.
The door handle turns and without knocking, Harris comes inside. “You’re up,” he remarks, and then, “You smell like an animal.”
I put my ear down to the keyhole, but there’s nothing now. Probably still a guard outside, of course, but they’re keeping mum.
“I know where it is.”
Harris stares back at me.
“I see.” There’s a long pause, like the endless delay between feeding in a line of cypher to the Bombe and waiting for its valves and cylinders to heat up enough to being processing. “Would you like to explain?”
“No,” Harris declares, finally. “I think you’re lying about Hooper. I think you’re a clever, scheming young man - that’s why we hired you - and you’re looking for the only reasonable out this situation has to offer. But I’m not taking it. We know you were in the room with the machine, we know you’re of a perverted persuasion, we know you have compromised yourself. There’s nothing more to say here. Either you tell me what you’ve done with that component, or we will hang you and search just as hard. It’s your choice.”
He gets to his feet, and gathers his gloves from the table top.
“I’m going to go outside and organise a rope. That’ll take about twelve minutes. That’s how long you have to decide.”
“Yes.”
Harris stares back at me.
“I see.” There’s a long pause, like the endless delay between feeding in a line of cypher to the Bombe and waiting for its valves and cylinders to heat up enough to being processing. “Would you like to explain?”
“I’ll talk to him.”
“What?”
“Put me in with Hooper. Maybe I can get something useful out of him. As his colleague.”
Harris shakes his head. “He despises you, doesn’t he? I don’t see why he’d give himself up to you.”
“I don’t know what gives you the right to pick on me. I demand a lawyer.”
“This is time of war,” Harris answers. His tone of voice has fallen down into darkness. “And by God, if I have to shoot you to recover the component or stop it falling into the wrong hands, I will, do you understand me?”
There’s an icy silence. He’s angry. He waves an impetuous hand across the field table.
“Now, drink your tea and talk.”
I say nothing, my lips tightly, firmly sealed. It’s true I am a traitor, to the very laws of nature. The world has taught me that since a very early age. But not to my country - should the Reich win this war, I would hardly be treated as an honoured hero. I was doomed from the very start.
I explain none of this. How could a man like Harris understand?
The Commander takes one look back from the doorway as he pulls it to.
“It’s been a pleasure working with you, Mr Manning,” he declares. “You’ve done a great service to this country. If we come through, I’m sure they’ll remember you name. I’m sorry it had to end this way and I’ll do my best to keep it quiet. No-one need know what you did.”
Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
“Very well. I see there’s no point in covering up. You know everything anyway.”
Harris nods, and waits for me to continue.
“There was a young man, Harris. I met him in the town. A few months ago now. We got to talking - not about work. I said I was an accountant for a firm, just as I was supposed to. Although he seemed to know that wasn’t true. That got me wondering if he wasn’t one of us.”
Harris is not letting me off any more. “You seriously considered that possibility?”
“Just adding to the drama,” I tell him, confidently. “I’m sure you can understand that.”
“I think we’ve had enough drama today already,” Harris replies. “Let’s hope for a clean kill.”
He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. I can only hope that Hooper bites on my baited hook. If he thinks I’m mad and bitter enough to have framed him somehow, and arrogant enough to have taunted him with a clue to where the damning evidence is hidden... if he hates me enough, and is paranoid enough, then he might unravel my little riddle and go searching around Hut 2.
Thinking back, I should have wrapped the part from the Bombe in one of his shirts before hiding it, that would have been a clever move. I really do make a terrible spy.
“I’d be happy to help,” I answer, sympathetically, leaning forward across the table. “I’m sure there’s something I could do.”
“Like what, exactly?”
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
“He has? I knew he would. The worm.”
“Steady now. Matters aren’t over yet. There’s still the issue of the component. It hasn’t turned up. He didn’t lead us to it. I guess he figured you must have had something on him. I don’t know.”
He looks quite put out by the whole affair. He is not the kind of man to deal well with ambiguities and probabilities, far preferred the clarity of fact and falsehood.
“No,” Harris declares, finally. “I think you’re lying about Hooper. I think you’re a clever, scheming young man - that’s why we hired you - and you’re looking for the only reasonable out this situation has to offer. But I’m not taking it. We know you were in the room with the machine, we know you’re of a perverted persuasion, we know you have compromised yourself. There’s nothing more to say here. Either you tell me what you’ve done with that component, or we will hang you and search just as hard. It’s your choice.”
He gets to his feet, and gathers his gloves from the table top.
“I’m going to go outside and organise a rope. That’ll take about twelve minutes. That’s how long you have to decide.”
“No. Not for more than a moment, of course. Everyone here is marked out by how little we would be willing to say about it.”
“Only you told this young man more than a little, didn’t you?”
I nod. “He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
“Oh, yes?”
“Yes. For what that’s worth. There’s still the issue of the component. It hasn’t turned up. He didn’t lead us to it. I guess he figured you must have had something on him. I don’t know.”
He looks quite put out by the whole affair. He is not the kind of man to deal well with ambiguities and probabilities, far preferred the clarity of fact and falsehood.
“Yes. I didn’t have long, but I had long enough. The missing component of the Bombe computer is hidden in a small cavity in a breeze-block supporting the left rear post of Hut 2. I put in there anticipating a search. I intended to pass it to Hooper once the fuss had died down. I suppose I was foolish to think that it might.”
“Indeed you were. And, Mr Manning: God help you if you’re lying to me.”
Harris stands, and slips away smartly. Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
From where he’s sitting, I know Hooper can see me, so I keep my head down and look guilty as sin. The bastard is probably smiling.
The Captain comes outside, pulling the door to. “What’s this?” he asks. “A confession? Just like that?”
“No,” the Commander admits, in a low voice. “I’m afraid not. Rather more a scheme. The idea is to let Hooper go and see what he does. If he believes we have Manning here in irons, he’ll try to shift the component.”
“If he has it.”
“Indeed.”
The Captain peers at me for a moment, like I was some kind of curious insect.
“Sometimes, I think you people are magicians,” he remarks. “Other times you seem more like witches. Very well.”
With that he opens the door to the Hut and goes back inside. The Commander uses the moment to hustle me roughly forward.
“This scheme of yours had better come off,” he hisses in my ear. “Otherwise the Captain is going to start having men tailing me to see where I go on Saturdays.”
“If you’ll excuse me, Russell. I was about to take a bath.”
“Oh, of course. Well, you’ll hear soon enough. Can hardly hide the fact there’ll only be three of us from now on.”
I wave to him and move away, my thoughts turning to the young man in the village. My lover. My contact. My blackmailer. Hooper may have taken the fall for the missing component, but if it was his recovering it from Hut 2 then I have nothing to sell to save my reputation, if I have any left.
If he didn’t, of course, and Harris was telling the truth about his sudden confession, then I will be able to buy my freedom once and for all.
“I don’t know what I’m suggesting. I don’t understand what’s going on.”
“But of course you do.” Harris narrows his eyes. “Let’s get straight to the point. Do you have the component?” Harris demands. “Do you know where it is?”
“Well?”
“We’ll be outside the door,” Harris replies, seriously. “The first sign of any funny business and we’ll have you both on the floor in minutes. You understand? The country needs your brain, but it’s not too worried about your legs. Remember that.”
Then he gets to his feet, and opens the door, and marches me out and across the yard. The evening is drawing in and there’s a chill in the air. My mind is racing. I have one opportunity here - a moment in which to put the fear of God into Hooper and make him do something foolish to place himself in harm’s way. But how to achieve it?
“You ready?” Harris demands.
“I don’t need twelve minutes. Here it is.”
I open my jacket and pull the Bombe component out of my pocket. Harris takes it from me, whistling, curious.
“Well, I’ll be. That’s it all right.”
“That’s it.”
“But you didn’t have it on you yesterday.”
“I suppose so,” I reply. “I’ve certainly done things I regret. Things I shouldn’t have done.”
“I see,” Harris answers. “You’ve left yourself open. To pressure. Is that what you’re saying?”
I pause a moment, trying to choose my words. To just come out and say it, after a lifetime of hiding... I wouldn’t know how. To put it into words, bluntly and directly: that is a circle I cannot square.
“I’ve done things,” I begin, uncomfortably. “I didn’t want to. I tried not to. But in the end, you understand. I had to. It felt like cutting off my own arm not to. Things I know I shouldn’t have. Things I perhaps regret.”
“I see,” Harris answers. “You’ve left yourself open. To pressure. Is that what you’re saying?”
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
“I was quite certain, after a while. After we’d been talking. He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
“We’ll fool him. He’s waiting to be sure that I’ve been strung up for this, so let’s give him what he wants. If he sees me taken away, clapped in irons - he’ll go straight to that component and set about getting rid of it.”
Harris gets to his feet. “All right,” he says. “I should no better than to trust a clever man, but we’ll give it a go.” Then, he smiles, with all his teeth, like a wolf. “Hooper’s in Hut 3 being debriefed by the Captain. Let’s see if we can’t get his attention somehow.”
He raps on the door for the guard and gives the man a quick instruction. He returns a moment later with a cool pair of iron cuffs.
“Put ‘em up,” Harris instructs, and I do so. The metal closes around my wrists like a trap. I stand and follow Harris willingly out through the door.
But whatever I’m doing with my body, my mind is scheming. Somehow, I’m thinking, I have to get away from these men long enough to get that component behind Hut 2 and put it somewhere Hooper will go. Or, otherwise, somehow get Hooper to go there himself...
Harris marches me over to Hut 3, and gestures for the guard to stand aside. Pushing me forward, he opens the door nice and wide.
“Captain. Manning talked. If you’d step out for a moment?”
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
I peer out of the window, but it looks out onto the little brook at the back of the compound, with no view of the other huts or the House. Who knows if there are men up, searching the base of Hut 2, following one another with flashlights...
The night draws on at its own pace. I suppose by morning I will know my fate.
The bunk has a solid metal frame, a blanket, a pillow, nothing more.
The bucket? Hardly. The bucket might do some good if I wanted to sweep up the glass afterwards, but it won’t help me smash the glass quietly.
“No. I passed it on to Hooper.”
“I see. And what did he do with it?”
“Explain what you should be doing, do you mean, rather than bullying me? Certainly.” I fold my arms. “I know where your component is because it’s obvious where your component is. That doesn’t mean I took it, just because I can figure out a simple problem, any more than it means I’m a German spy because I can crack their codes.”
“Tell me, then,” he asks. “What’s your theory? You’re a smart fellow - as smart as they come around here, and that’s saying something. What’s your opinion on the missing component? Accident, perhaps? Or do you blame one of the other men?”
“Well, then,” I answer, nervously. “What would he do? Either get rid of it straight away - or if that wasn’t possible, which it probably wouldn’t be, since he’d have to arrange things with his contacts - so most likely, he’d hide it somewhere and wait, until you had the rope around my neck and he could be sure he was safe.”
“Makes sense,” Harris agrees, cautiously. I can see he’s still not certain whether he can trust me. “Which means the question is, what can we do to rat him out?”
Let me see. There’s the bunk, nothing else. I have my jacket but nothing in the pockets - no handkerchief, for instance.
“The Captain thought it was a good scheme. You’ll most likely get a promotion.”
“Let’s hope things work out,” Harris agrees darkly.
He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
I slip off my jacket and hold it with one hand over the glass. This should do it. Then I heft back my arm, and take a strong swing, trying to imagine it’s Harris’ face on the other side.
The sound of the impact is muffled. With my arm still covered, I sweep out the remaining glass in the frame. I’m ready to escape. The only trouble is - when they look in on me in the morning, there will be no question what has happened. It won’t help me one jot with shifting suspicion off my back.
I peer out of the window, but it looks out onto the little brook at the back of the compound, with no view of the other huts or the House. Who knows if there are men up, searching the base of Hut 2, following one another with flashlights...
The night draws on at its own pace. I suppose by morning I will know my fate.
“Well, then,” I answer, nervously. “What would he do? Either get rid of it straight away - or if that wasn’t possible, which it probably wouldn’t be, since he’d have to arrange things with his contacts - so most likely, he’d hide it somewhere and wait, until you had the rope around my neck and he could be sure he was safe.”
“Makes sense,” Harris agrees, cautiously. I can see he’s still not certain whether he can trust me. “Which means the question is, what can we do to rat him out?”
“I don’t know.”
“You can do better than that. Remember, there’s a hangman’s noose waiting for traitors.”
“We don’t have to believe anyone,” Harris replies sternly. “I intend to know the truth and be happy with nothing else. Right now, your story doesn’t hold water. It doesn’t tie up. We know you’ve been leaving yourself open to accusations. We’ve been watching your activities for some time. But we thought you were endangering the reputation of this site with the Government; not risking the country herself. Perhaps I put too much trust in your intellectual pride.”
He pauses for a moment, considering something. Then he continues:
“It might have been Hooper. It might have been you. No-one here is in the business of guessing, you know that. Our business is to decode. To get to the bottom of whatever’s going on. You’ve not placed yourself beyond suspicion and until you do so...” Harris shrugs. “I’m afraid I have fewer and fewer choices as time goes on. If that component has left these grounds then every minute is critical.”
“No, Harris. The young man wasn’t blackmailing me.” I take a deep breath. “It was Hooper.”
“Hooper!” Harris exclaims, in surprise.
“It’s the truth, Harris. If I’m going to jail, then so be it, but I won’t hang at Traitor’s Gate. Hooper was the one who told the boy about our work. Hooper put the boy on to me. And then, once he had me compromised, he demanded I steal the part from the machine.”
“Which you did.” Harris leans forward. “And then what? You still have it? You put it somewhere?”
I look in through the door and catch Hooper’s expression. I had half expected him to be smiling be he isn’t. He looks shocked, almost hurt. “Iain,” he murmurs. “You couldn’t...”
The Captain comes outside, pulling the door to. “What’s this?” he asks. “A confession? Just like that?”
“No,” the Commander admits, in a low voice. “I’m afraid not. Rather more a scheme. The idea is to let Hooper go and see what he does. If he believes we have Manning here in irons, he’ll try to shift the component.”
“If he has it.”
“Indeed.”
The Captain peers at me for a moment, like I was some kind of curious insect.
“Sometimes, I think you people are magicians,” he remarks. “Other times you seem more like witches. Very well.”
With that he opens the door to the Hut and goes back inside. The Commander uses the moment to hustle me roughly forward.
“This scheme of yours had better come off,” he hisses in my ear. “Otherwise the Captain is going to start having men tailing me to see where I go on Saturdays.”
Work carefully? It’s difficult to work carefully when all one’s has is nothing but brute force.
No, I am content. I suppose I do not believe they will hang me. They will lock me up and continue to use my brain, if they can. I wonder what they will tell the world - perhaps that I have taken my own life. That would be simplest. The few who know me would believe it.
Well, then. Not a bad existence, in prison. Removed from temptation. A kind of imposed monasticism, with plenty more problems to solve, and more mysteries to fathom.
I wonder what else I might yet unravel before I’m done?
“All right. I’ll tell you what happened.” And never mind my shame, I think.
“I can imagine how it starts,” he growls.
“There was a young man, Harris. I met him in the town. A few months ago now. We got to talking - not about work, you understand. I said I was an accountant for a firm, just as I was supposed to. Although he seemed to know that wasn’t true. That got me wondering if he wasn’t one of us.”
Harris is not letting me off any more. “You seriously considered that possibility?”
“Just adding to the drama,” I tell him, confidently. “I’m sure you can understand that.”
“I think we’ve had enough drama today already,” Harris replies. “Let’s hope for a clean kill.”
He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
I go over to the window and try to jimmy it open. Not much luck, but in my struggling I notice this window only backs on the thin little brook that runs down the back of the compound. Which means, if I smashed it, I might get away with no-one seeing.
I say nothing. It’s true, isn’t it? I can’t deny that I know there is a world out there, a complicated world of pain and suffering. And I can’t deny that I don’t think about it a moment longer than I have to. What use is thinking on a problem that cannot be solved? It is precisely our ability to avoid such endless spirals that makes us human and not machine.
“God have mercy on your soul,” Harris says finally, as he gets to his feet and heads for the door. “I fear no-one else will.” Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
I pause a moment, trying to choose my words. To just come out and say it, after a lifetime of hiding... I wouldn’t know how. To put it into words, bluntly and directly: that is a circle I cannot square.
“I’ve done things,” I begin, uncomfortably. “I didn’t want to. I tried not to. But in the end, you understand. I had to. It felt like cutting off my own arm not to. Things I know I shouldn’t have. Things I perhaps regret.”
“I see,” Harris answers. “You’ve left yourself open. To pressure. Is that what you’re saying?”
“Yes.”
Harris smiles with satisfaction, as if your willingness to talk was somehow a result of his clever techniques.
“I see.” There’s a long pause, like the endless delay between feeding in a line of cypher to the Bombe and waiting for its valves and cylinders to heat up enough to being processing. “Would you like to explain?”
“He never could be trusted. You should never have hired him. A below average intelligence can’t cope with the pressures in this place.”
Harris rolls his eyes, but he might almost be smiling. “You’d better get along, Mr Intelligent. There’s a 24-hour-out-of-date message to be tackled and we’re a genius short. So you’d better be ready to work twice as hard.”
“Tell Hooper I’ve confessed. In fact, better yet, let him see you march me off in handcuffs. Then let him go, and watch him. Ten to one he’ll go straight to wherever he’s hidden that component and his game will be up.”
Harris nods slowly, chewing over the idea. It isn’t a bad plan even - except, of course, Hooper has not hidden the component, and won’t lead them anywhere. But that’s a problem I might be able to solve once I’m out of this place; and once they’re busy, dogging Hooper’s steps from hut to hut.
“It’s an interesting idea,” the Commander muses. “But I’m not so sure he’ll be that stupid. And if he’s already passed the part on, well, the whole thing will only be a waste of time.”
The bunk has a solid metal frame, a blanket, a pillow, nothing more.
It’s useless. There’s nothing I can do but hope. I sit down on one corner of the bunk to wait.
Night falls. The clockwork of the heavens keeps turning, whatever state I might be in. No-one can steal the components that make the sun go down and the stars come out. I watch it performing its operations. I can’t sleep.
“Very well then.” I swallow nervously, to make it look more genuine. “No. I passed it on to Hooper.”
“I see. And what did he do with it?”
“I was quite certain, after a while. After we’d been talking. He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
“He’s petty enough, certainly. He’s a creep.” I wipe a hand across my forehead. “All I can say is, ever since I arrived here, he’s been looking to ways to bring me down a peg. I wouldn’t be surprised if he set this whole affair up just to have me court-martialled.”
“We don’t court-martial civilians,” Harris replies. “Traitors are simply hung at her Majesty’s pleasure.”
“You want me to tell you what happened? You’ll be disgusted, I’m quite sure.”
“I can imagine how it starts,” he growls.
“There was a young man, Harris. I met him in the town. A few months ago now. We got to talking - not about work. I said I was an accountant for a firm, just as I was supposed to. Although he seemed to know that wasn’t true. That got me wondering if he wasn’t one of us.”
Harris is not letting me off any more. “You seriously considered that possibility?”
I put my ear to the keyhole but can make out nothing. Are there still guards posted? Perhaps the component has been found and the crisis is over.
Perhaps the door is unlocked and they left me to sleep? I try the handle. No such luck.
The night draws on at its own pace. I suppose by morning I will know my fate.
I hop up the steps and put my head inside all the same. Nobody about. Still too early in the AM for sparks, I suppose.
I head on around the back of the hut. The breeze-block with the cavity is on the left side.
“I don’t know what gives you the right to pick on me. I demand a lawyer.”
“This is time of war,” Harris answers. His tone of voice has fallen down into darkness. “And by God, if I have to shoot you to recover the component or stop it falling into the wrong hands, I will, do you understand me?”
There’s an icy silence. I’ve cracked him a little at least. He’s angry at my slippery answers. He waves an impetuous hand across the field table.
“Now, drink your tea and talk.”
“No. Not for more than a moment, of course. Everyone here is marked out by how little we would be willing to say about it.”
“Only you told this young man more than a little, didn’t you?”
I nod. “He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
The window is my only way out of here. I just need a way to smash it.
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
I peer out of the window, but it looks out onto the little brook at the back of the compound, with no view of the other huts or the House. Who knows if there are men up, searching the base of Hut 2, following one another with flashlights...
The night draws on at its own pace. I suppose by morning I will know my fate.
The bunk has a solid metal frame, a blanket, a pillow, nothing more.
“No, Harris. The young man wasn’t blackmailing me.” I take a deep breath. “It was Hooper.”
“Hooper!” Harris exclaims, in surprise.
“It’s the truth, Harris. If I’m going to jail, then so be it, but I won’t hang at Traitor’s Gate. Hooper was the one who told the boy about our work. Hooper put the boy on to me. And then, once he had me compromised, he demanded I steal the part from the machine.”
“Which you did.” Harris leans forward. “And then what? You still have it? You put it somewhere?”
“No. I passed it on to Hooper.”
“I see. And what did he do with it?”
“For God’s sake,” I answer, voice quivering. “I’m no traitor.”
He stares back at me. “Let’s get straight to the point. Do you have the component?” Harris demands. “Do you know where it is?”
I suppose I do not believe they will hang me. They will lock me up and continue to use my brain, if they can. I wonder what they will tell the world - perhaps that I have taken my own life. That would be simplest. The few who know me would believe it.
Well, then. Not a bad existence, in prison. Removed from temptation. A kind of imposed monasticism, with plenty more problems to solve, and more mysteries to fathom.
I wonder what else I might yet unravel before I’m done?
Moving quickly and quietly, I hoist myself up onto the window-frame and worm my way outside into the freezing night air. Then I’m away, slipping down the paths between the Huts, sticking to the shadows, on my way to Hut 2.
“It’s not that bad. I can still fix it.”
Harris shakes his head. “This isn’t a problem to be cracked. This isn’t a puzzle. I’m sorry, but this is bigger than you now. Look. You can go to prison for what you’ve done, or we can change your identity and move you somewhere where your... indiscretions... can’t hurt anyone any more. But right now none of that matters. What happens to you, doesn’t matter. All that matters is where that component is. So I’d like you to tell me, now. Where is it?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
After a chance like this? A chance - however real - to save my neck? To hand it over - what, to save Hooper’s worthless skin?
“I don’t need twelve minutes. Here it is.”
I open my jacket and pull the Bombe component out of my pocket. Harris takes it from me, whistling, curious.
“Well, I’ll be. That’s it all right.”
“That’s it.”
“But you didn’t have it on you yesterday.”
I have no God to make peace with. I find it difficult to believe in goodness of any kind, in a world such as this.
But I am no traitor. At least, not to my country. To my sex, perhaps. But how could I support the Reich? If it were to come to power, I would be worse off than under the already dire circumstances of my existence.
I have no place here. No way to fit. I am the intercept - caught, in the middle, cryptic and understood only thinly, through devices and machines.
“You’re right.” I shake my head. “You’re right. I don’t see how I can help you after all. So, there’s only one conclusion.”
“Oh, yes? And what’s that?”
“It’s your problem. Your security breach. So much for your careful vetting process.” I lean back in my chair and fold my arms so the way they shake will not be visible. “You’d better get on with solving it, instead of wasting your time in here with me.”
Harris harrumphs. He’s thinking it all over.
I put my ear down to the keyhole, but there’s nothing now. Probably still a guard outside, of course, but they’re keeping mum.
I say quiet, listening, not sure how this will go.
“In case I’m not making myself clear,” Harris continues, “I mean, he managed to find it, by accident, somewhere where it wasn’t the night before. And at the same time, you’re sitting here with your window broken. So, I rather think you’ve played your last hand and lost. There’s no way Hooper stole that component and then just left it lying around in the doorway of his tent. No way at all. So I came to tell you that the game is up for you.”
He nods and gets to his feet. Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
“Listen to me, Hooper. We were the only men in that hut today, so we know what happened. But I want you to know this. I put the component inside a breeze-block in the foundations of Hut 2, wrapped in one of your shirts. They’re going to find it eventually, and that’s going to be what tips the balance. And there’s nothing you can do to stop any of that from happening.”
His eyes bulge with terror. “What did I do, to you? What did I ever do?”
“I was quite certain, after a while. After we’d been talking. He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
I go over to the window and try to jimmy it open. Not much luck, but in my struggling I notice this window only backs on the thin little brook that runs down the back of the compound. Which means, if I smashed it, I might get away with no-one seeing.
But of course I will. Perhaps I can persuade them to put him in my cell.
“We recovered the part, just where you said it was,” Harris reports, as he puts the cuffs around my wrists. “Of course, a couple of the men swear blind they searched there yesterday, so I’m afraid, what with the broken window... we’ve formed a perfectly good theory which doesn’t bode well for you.”
“I see.” It doesn’t seem worth arguing any further. “I still have the intercept in my pocket,” I remark. “Wherever we’re going, could I have a pencil?”
He looks me in the eye.
“Certainly. And one of your computing things, if I get my way. And when we’re old, and smoking pipes together in The Rag like heroes, I’ll explain to you the way that decent men have affairs. You scientists.” He drags me up to my feet. “You think you have to re-invent everything.”
With that, he hustles me out of the door and I can’t help thinking that, with a little more strategy, I could still have won the day. But too late now, of course.
“Very well. I see there’s no point in covering up. You know everything anyway.”
Harris nods, and waits for me to continue.
“There was a young man, Harris. I met him in the town. A few months ago now. We got to talking - not about work. I said I was an accountant for a firm, just as I was supposed to. Although he seemed to know that wasn’t true. That got me wondering if he wasn’t one of us.”
Harris is not letting me off any more. “You seriously considered that possibility?”
“No.”
“Too bad.” Harris opens the door and pushes me inside. “Captain,” he calls. “Could I have a moment?”
The Captain, looking puzzled, steps out. The door is closed. Hooper stares at me, open-mouthed, about to say something. I probably have less than a minute before the Captain storms back in and declares this plan to be bunkum.
“That’s not important now. What matters is what you do, this evening. All you have to do is go to the back of Hut 2. There’s a breeze-block with a cavity. That’s where I’ve put it. I’ll be locked up overnight, I should think. But you can pick it up and pass it to my contact. He’ll be at the south fence around two AM.”
“If you think I’ll do that then you’re crazy,” Hooper replies.
At that moment the door flies open and the Captain comes storming back inside.
Harris hustles me over to the barracks. “I hope that’s the end of it,” he mutters as he pushes me up the steps.
“Just be sure to let him out,” I reply. “And then see where he goes.”
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
“No, I don’t. I’ve got work I should be doing tomorrow, and I need my rest...”
“Work that will be difficult for you to do, don’t you think?” Harris replies.
“They’ll have made a replacement by tomorrow,” I reply. “The war doesn’t stop over one missing reel.”
The reel went missing from the Bombe this afternoon. The four of us were in the Hut at the time, working on the latest intercept. It was Russell who noticed the machine producing strange results and found the gap in its plugboard. But as to who took it - it could have been any of us.
And indeed, it must have been. The machine had been functioning as normal when we began our calculations. And then, a short few hours later, it was gone. We had to stop. There was nothing more we could do until it was replaced. The part was vital, just as the machine was vital, and so were the contents of the message, still unread twenty four hours later.
“Let’s get straight to the point. Do you have the component?” Harris demands. “Do you know where it is?”
“Oh, yes?”
“Yes. For what that’s worth. There’s still the issue of the component. It hasn’t turned up. He didn’t lead us to it. I guess he figured you must have had something on him. I don’t know.”
He looks quite put out by the whole affair. He is not the kind of man to deal well with ambiguities and probabilities, far preferred the clarity of fact and falsehood.
I peer out of the window, but it looks out onto the little brook at the back of the compound, with no view of the other huts or the House. Who knows if there are men up, searching the base of Hut 2, following one another with flashlights...
The night draws on at its own pace. I suppose by morning I will know my fate.
“I was quite certain, after a while. After we’d been talking. He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
I put my ear down to the keyhole, but there’s nothing now. Probably still a guard outside, of course, but they’re keeping mum.
“We don’t have to believe anyone,” Harris replies sternly. “I intend to know the truth and be happy with nothing else. Right now, your story doesn’t hold water. It doesn’t tie up. We know you’ve been leaving yourself open to accusations. We’ve been watching your activities for some time. But we thought you were endangering the reputation of this site with the Government; not risking the country herself. Perhaps I put too much trust in your intellectual pride.”
He pauses for a moment, considering something. Then he continues:
“It might have been Hooper. It might have been you. No-one here is in the business of guessing, you know that. Our business is to decode. To get to the bottom of whatever’s going on. You’ve not placed yourself beyond suspicion and until you do so...” Harris shrugs. “I’m afraid I have fewer and fewer choices as time goes on. If that component has left these grounds then every minute is critical.”
Making a wide circuit I creep around the tent. It has plenty of other flaps and openings, tied down with Gordian complexity. But nothing afford itself to slipping the component inside.
I leave the cup exactly where it is. “Why?” I ask coldly. “What’s in it?”
“Lapsang Souchong,” he remarks, placing his own cup down on the table with a clink. “Such a curious flavour. It might almost not be tea at all. You might say it hides a multitude of sins. As do you, isn’t that correct?”
Enough of this. There isn’t any time to lose. Right now they’ll be following Hooper as he goes to bed, and goes to sleep; and then that’s it. The minute he closes his eyelids and drifts off that’s the moment that this trap swings shut on me.
So I punch out the glass with my bucket and it shatters with a terrific noise. Then I stop, and wait, to see if anyone will come in through the door.
Nothing.
“Messy, without one missing cache!” I cry, laughing spitefully. It isn’t the best clue, hardly worthy of the Times, but it will have to do.
I only catch Hooper’s reaction for a moment - his eyebrow lifts in surprise and alarm. Good. If he thinks it is a threat then he just might be careless enough to go looking for what it might mean.
The Captain comes outside, pulling the door to. “What’s this?” he asks. “A confession? Just like that?”
“No,” the Commander admits, in a low voice. “I’m afraid not. Rather more a scheme. The idea is to let Hooper go and see what he does. If he believes we have Manning here in irons, he’ll try to shift the component.”
“If he has it.”
“Indeed.”
The Captain peers at me for a moment, like I was some kind of curious insect.
“Sometimes, I think you people are magicians,” he remarks. “Other times you seem more like witches. Very well.”
With that he opens the door to the Hut and goes back inside. The Commander uses the moment to hustle me roughly forward.
“And what was all that shouting about?” he hisses in my ear as we move towards the barracks. “Are you trying to pull something? Or just make me look incompetent?”
“Well, then,” I answer, nervously. “What would he do? Either get rid of it straight away - or if that wasn’t possible, which it probably wouldn’t be, since he’d have to arrange things with his contacts - so most likely, he’d hide it somewhere and wait, until you had the rope around my neck and he could be sure he was safe.”
“Makes sense,” Harris agrees, cautiously. I can see he’s still not certain whether he can trust me. “Which means the question is, what can we do to rat him out?”
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
“I’m no traitor, damn it. You know I’m not. How much work have I done here? Against the Germans? Cracking their codes? Understanding their secrets? I’ve given it my all! And you know as well as I do, if the Reich were to invade, I would be a dead man for being what I am. So please, Hooper. I’m not doing any of this lightly. But I’m in a jam!”
“Assuming I wanted to help you,” he replies, carefully. “Which I don’t. What would I do?”
“Nothing. Almost nothing.
All you have to do is go to the back of Hut 2. There’s a breeze-block with a cavity. That’s where I’ve put it. I’ll be locked up overnight, I should think. But you can pick it up and pass it to my contact. He’ll be at the south fence around two AM."
“If you think I’ll do that then you’re crazy,” Hooper replies.
At that moment the door flies open and the Captain comes storming back inside.
Harris hustles me over to the barracks. “I hope that’s the end of it,” he mutters as he pushes me up the steps.
“Just be sure to let him out,” I reply. “And then see where he goes.”
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
“No. I have no idea.”
“Come now,” Harris says, quite the reasonable gent. “I think you can be a little more forthcoming.”
“No. Not for more than a moment, of course. Everyone here is marked out by how little we would be willing to say about it.”
“Only you told this young man more than a little, didn’t you?”
I nod. “He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
“I’ll talk to him.”
“What?”
“Put me in with Hooper. Maybe I can get something useful out of him. As his colleague.”
Harris shakes his head. “He despises you, doesn’t he? I don’t see why he’d give himself up to you.”
I put my ear down to the keyhole, but there’s nothing now. Probably still a guard outside, of course, but they’re keeping mum.
I go over to the window and try to jimmy it open. Not much luck, but in my struggling I notice this window only backs on the thin little brook that runs down the back of the compound. Which means, if I smashed it, I might get away with no-one seeing.
If I leave the component here somewhere it should be somewhere I can rely on Hooper finding it, but no-one before Hooper. In particular.
“Very well then.” I swallow nervously, to make it look more genuine. “No. I passed it on to Hooper.”
“I see. And what did he do with it?”
Moving quickly and quietly, I hoist myself up onto the window-frame and worm my way outside into the freezing night air. Then I’m away, slipping down the paths between the Huts, sticking to the shadows, on my way to Hut 2.
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
I wait a few minutes, to be sure the Commander will have gone, then try the door. It’s locked, all right. I’m not really one for picking locks. Never tried it. I don’t think I’ll be getting out that way.
From outside, I hear a voice. Hooper’s. He’s haranguing someone, for something.
“Just adding to the drama,” I tell him, confidently. “I’m sure you can understand that.”
“I think we’ve had enough drama today already,” Harris replies. “Let’s hope for a clean kill.”
He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
“Trust me. He hasn’t. If I know that man, and I do, he’ll have wanted to keep his options open as long as possible. If the component’s gone then he’s committed and he’ll be hung for what he’s done. He’ll want to wait a week at least, make sure he’s escaped suspicion. And then he’ll pass it on.”
“And if we keep applying pressure to him, you think the component will eventually just turn up?”
“You’re right.” I shake my head. “You’re right. I don’t see how I can help you after all. So, there’s only one conclusion.”
“Oh, yes? And what’s that?”
“It’s your problem. Your security breach. So much for your careful vetting process.” I lean back in my chair and fold my arms so the way they shake will not be visible. “You’d better get on with solving it, instead of wasting your time in here with me.”
Harris harrumphs. He’s thinking it all over.
“So he’s an idiot, and he hid it in his shoe.”
“No,” Harris replies. “That isn’t really what I mean. I mean, he managed to find it, by accident, somewhere where it wasn’t the night before. And at the same time, you’re sitting here with your window broken. So, I rather think you’ve played your last hand and lost. There’s no way Hooper stole that component and then just left it lying around in the doorway of his tent. No way at all. So I came to tell you that the game is up for you.”
He nods and gets to his feet. Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
“You’re right.” I shake my head. “You’re right. I don’t see how I can help you after all. So, there’s only one conclusion.”
“Oh, yes? And what’s that?”
“It’s your problem. Your security breach. So much for your careful vetting process.” I lean back in my chair and fold my arms so the way they shake will not be visible. “You’d better get on with solving it, instead of wasting your time in here with me.”
Harris harrumphs. He’s thinking it all over.
Work carefully? It’s difficult to work carefully when all one’s has is a bucket. It’s rather like the sledgehammer for the proverbial nut.
“Yes.”
Harris stares back at me.
“I see.” There’s a long pause, like the endless delay between feeding in a line of cypher to the Bombe and waiting for its valves and cylinders to heat up enough to being processing. “Would you like to explain?”
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
I go over to the window and try to jimmy it open. Not much luck, but in my struggling I notice this window only backs on the thin little brook that runs down the back of the compound. Which means, if I smashed it, I might get away with no-one seeing.
I put my ear to the keyhole but can make out nothing. Are there still guards posted? Perhaps, if Hooper has managed to incriminate himself, the guards have been removed?
Perhaps the door is unlocked and they left me to sleep? I try the handle. No such luck.
The night draws on at its own pace. I suppose by morning I will know my fate.
“It’s not that bad. I can still fix it.”
Harris shakes his head. “This isn’t a problem to be cracked. This isn’t a puzzle. I’m sorry, but this is bigger than you now. Look. You can go to prison for what you’ve done, or we can change your identity and move you somewhere where your... indiscretions... can’t hurt anyone any more. But right now none of that matters. What happens to you, doesn’t matter. All that matters is where that component is. So I’d like you to tell me, now. Where is it?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
“Trust me. He hasn’t. If I know that man, and I do, he’ll have wanted to keep his options open as long as possible. If the component’s gone then he’s committed and he’ll be hung for what he’s done. He’ll want to wait a week at least, make sure he’s escaped suspicion. And then he’ll pass it on.”
“And if we keep applying pressure to him, you think the component will eventually just turn up?”
Let me see. There’s the bunk, a bucket, nothing else. I have my jacket but nothing in the pockets - no handkerchief, for instance.
“I don’t have it any more. I passed it through the fence to my contact straight after taking it, before it was discovered to be missing. It would have been idiocy to do differently. It’s long gone, I’m afraid.”
“You fool, Manning,” Harris curses, getting quickly to his feet. “You utter fool. Do you suppose you will be any better off living under Hitler? It’s men like you who will get us all killed. Men too feeble, too weak in their hearts to stand up and take a man’s responsibility for the world. You’re happier to stay a child all your life and play with your little childish toys.”
“I’m looking forward to having a wash and a change of clothes; which should make a little less evil to be around.”
“Very droll,” he replies. “Let me tell you what happened this morning, and see if it takes the smile off your face. Our men watching Hooper’s tent saw Hooper wake up, get dressed, clamber out of his tent and then remark with surprise as, while looking for his shoes, he stumbled on something just at the entrance of his tent.”
I see. Perhaps you think I bullied the man into giving himself up. Perhaps he understood my little clue far enough to know it was a threat against him, but not well enough to understand where he should look to find it. So he took the easy route out and folded. Gave me the hand.
Hardly sporting, is that it?
I suppose I do not believe they will hang me. They will lock me up and continue to use my brain, if they can. I wonder what they will tell the world - perhaps that I have taken my own life. That would be simplest. The few who know me would believe it.
Well, then. Not a bad existence, in prison. Removed from temptation. A kind of imposed monasticism, with plenty more problems to solve, and more mysteries to fathom.
I wonder what else I might yet unravel before I’m done?
“There’s nothing to explain,” I reply stiffly. “I know where your component is because it’s obvious where your component is. That doesn’t mean I took it, just because I can figure out a simple problem, any more than it means I’m a German spy because I can crack their codes.”
“Tell me, then,” he asks. “What’s your theory? You’re a smart fellow - as smart as they come around here, and that’s saying something. What’s your opinion on the missing component? Accident, perhaps? Or do you blame one of the other men?”
“I don’t see why,” I reply, looking him straight in the eye.
His gaze is unexpressive: I’ve seen Harris broad and full of laughter, but today he is rigid, as much part of the military machine as the devices in Hut 5.
“There really isn’t any time to be wasted,” he says. “But you know why you’re here, of course.”
“You’re right.” I shake my head. “You’re right. I don’t see how I can help you after all. So, there’s only one conclusion.”
“Oh, yes? And what’s that?”
“It’s your problem. Your security breach. So much for your careful vetting process.” I lean back in my chair and fold my arms so the way they shake will not be visible. “You’d better get on with solving it, instead of wasting your time in here with me.”
Harris harrumphs. He’s thinking it all over.
“Yes, I considered it. He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
That is Harris returning. Our little computation here is complete. I only hope one of the others will be able to explain to him that the part I stole will mean nothing to the Germans.
That is the true secret of the calculating engine, and the source of its power: not in the components themselves, but in how they are wired together. The diversity of patterns and structures they can form. Much like people - it is how they connect that determines our victories and tragedies, and not their genius.
Which makes me wonder. Should I give up my beautiful young man to them as well as myself?
“I suppose I do rather.” I laugh, but Harris does not.
“This damn business gets worse and worse,” he says, talking as he goes over to unlock and throw open the window. “Hooper’s confessed, you know.”
“You want me to tell you what happened? You’ll be disgusted, I’m quite sure.”
“I can imagine how it starts,” he growls.
“There was a young man, Harris. I met him in the town. A few months ago now. We got to talking - not about work. I said I was an accountant for a firm, just as I was supposed to. Although he seemed to know that wasn’t true. That got me wondering if he wasn’t one of us.”
Harris is not letting me off any more. “You seriously considered that possibility?”
“I always meant to tell you,” I tell him. “I thought perhaps I could find out who they were. Lead you to them.”
Harris looks at me with contempt. “You wretched little man. Don’t think your tongue will be able to get you out of trouble. You’re going to pay for what you’ve done, and you’re going to pay dearly. If a single man loses his life because of your pride and your perversions then God help your eternal soul. The fact is you committed a crime.” If I had any sense that he understood my predicament, and that he felt for my state of being, it collapses like a chain with a broken link. “You thought you could repair it with another, more serious crime?” He shakes his head. “I thought you men were supposed to be clever. But this is the action of a frightened woman. So I’d like you to tell me, now. Where is it?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
If I leave the component here somewhere it should be somewhere I can rely on Hooper finding it, but no-one before Hooper. In particular.
“He has? I knew he would. The worm.”
“Steady now. Matters aren’t over yet. There’s still the issue of the component. It hasn’t turned up. He didn’t lead us to it. I guess he figured you must have had something on him. I don’t know.”
He looks quite put out by the whole affair. He is not the kind of man to deal well with ambiguities and probabilities, far preferred the clarity of fact and falsehood.
The blanket. Perfect. I scoop it up off the bed and hold it in place over the window. This should do it. Then I heft back my arm, and take a strong swing, trying to imagine it’s Harris’ face on the other side.
The sound of the impact is muffled. With my arm still covered, I sweep out the remaining glass in the frame. I’m ready to escape. The only trouble is - when they look in on me in the morning, there will be no question what has happened. It won’t help me one jot with shifting suspicion off my back.
“The component?”
“Yes,” Harris replies levelly. “The component that went missing this afternoon. I doubt that you’ve forgotten.”
He’s talking about the missing reel from the Bombe. Russell discovered it this afternoon when the machine began producing strange results. We were all in the Hut when it happened and it had been in place when we sat down to work. The conclusions had been obvious to all four of us immediately, but had gone undiscussed, even after the empty socket was located, the wiring torn on either side.
“Lucky these things are easy to replace,” Russell had remarked, and that had been that. We had stopped work, sent out for a new part to be machined. And drunk our tea and watched each other.
“Come now,” Harris says, quite the reasonable gent. “As I told you. We’re not interviewing everyone. Only you. So. I think you can be a little more forthcoming.”
“Well, then,” I answer, nervously. “What would he do? Either get rid of it straight away - or if that wasn’t possible, which it probably wouldn’t be, since he’d have to arrange things with his contacts - so most likely, he’d hide it somewhere and wait, until you had the rope around my neck and he could be sure he was safe.”
“Makes sense,” Harris agrees, cautiously. I can see he’s still not entirely convinced by my tale, as well he might not be - I’ve hardly been entirely straight with him. “Which means the question is, what can we do to rat him out?”
I peer out of the window, but it looks out onto the little brook at the back of the compound, with no view of the other huts or the House. Who knows if there are men up, searching the base of Hut 2, following one another with flashlights...
Perhaps Hooper is there, in the dark, trying to help me after all?
The night draws on at its own pace. I suppose by morning I will know my fate.
Let me see. There’s the bunk, a bucket, nothing else. I have my jacket but nothing in the pockets - no handkerchief, for instance.
“No.”
“Too bad.” Harris opens the door and pushes me inside. “Captain,” he calls. “Could I have a moment?”
The Captain, looking puzzled, steps out. The door is closed. Hooper stares at me, open-mouthed, about to say something. I probably have less than a minute before the Captain storms back in and declares this plan to be bunkum.
“Yes.”
Harris stares back at me.
“I see.” There’s a long pause, like the endless delay between feeding in a line of cypher to the Bombe and waiting for its valves and cylinders to heat up enough to being processing. “Would you like to explain?”
“It’s not that bad. I can still fix it.”
Harris shakes his head. “This isn’t a problem to be cracked. This isn’t a puzzle. I’m sorry, but this is bigger than you now. Look. You can go to prison for what you’ve done, or we can change your identity and move you somewhere where your... indiscretions... can’t hurt anyone any more. But right now none of that matters. What happens to you, doesn’t matter. All that matters is where that component is. So I’d like you to tell me, now. Where is it?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
“Please, Hooper. You don’t understand what’s at stake. They have information on me. What I’ve done. I don’t need to tell you what I’ve done, you know. I know you do. And I know you think it’s wrong, but please man, have a soul. They were going to ruin me. And the component - it’s nothing. It’s not the secret of the Bombe, or even of what we’re doing here. It’s just a part. The German’s think it’s a weapon - a missile component or a detonator. Let them have it! Please, man. Just help me.”
“Help you?” Hooper stares, as I have gone mad. “Help you? You’re a traitor, Iain. You’re a traitor. A snake in the grass. And you’re queer.”
I have no God to make peace with. I find it difficult to believe in goodness of any kind, in a world such as this.
But I am no traitor. At least, not to my country. To my sex, perhaps. But how could I support the Reich? If it were to come to power, I would be worse off than under the already dire circumstances of my existence.
I have no place here. No way to fit. I am the intercept - caught, in the middle, cryptic and understood only thinly, through devices and machines.
“Damn right I’m sore. Was it one of the others who put you up to this? Was it Hooper? He’s always been jealous of me. He’s...”
The Commander moustache bristles as he purses his lips. “Has he now? Of your achievements, do you think?” It’s difficult not to shake the sense that he’s mocking me. “Or of your brain? Or something else?”
“Awkward,” I reply, sipping at my tea as if we were the best of friends.
His gaze is unexpressive: I’ve seen Harris broad and full of laughter, but today he is rigid, as much part of the military machine as the devices in Hut 5.
“I’m sorry to pull you up so roughly,” he says. “But you know why you’re here, of course.”
“Well, then,” I answer, nervously. “What would he do? Either get rid of it straight away - or if that wasn’t possible, which it probably wouldn’t be, since he’d have to arrange things with his contacts - so most likely, he’d hide it somewhere and wait, until you had the rope around my neck and he could be sure he was safe.”
“Makes sense,” Harris agrees, cautiously. I can see he’s still not entirely convinced by my tale, as well he might not be - I’ve hardly been entirely straight with him. “Which means the question is, what can we do to rat him out?”
“I’m sure you’ve handled worse,” I reply casually, sipping at my tea as if we were the best of friends.
His gaze is unexpressive: I’ve seen Harris broad and full of laughter, but today he is rigid, as much part of the military machine as the devices in Hut 5.
“I’m sorry to pull you up so roughly,” he says. “But you know why you’re here, of course.”
“Look, I know where it is. The missing piece of the Bombe is in the long grasses behind Hooper’s tent. I saw him throw it there right after we finished work. He knew you’d scour the camp but I suppose he thought you’d more obvious places first. I suppose he was right about that. Look there. That proves his guilt.”
“That doesn’t prove anything,” Harris returns sharply. “But we’ll check what you say, all the same.” He gets to his feet and heads out of the door.
Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
“I don’t see why,” I reply, sipping at my tea as if we were the best of friends.
His gaze is unexpressive: I’ve seen Harris broad and full of laughter, but today he is rigid, as much part of the military machine as the devices in Hut 5.
“I’m sorry to pull you up so roughly,” he says. “But you know why you’re here, of course.”
Morning comes slowly, but I must fall asleep at some point, because the next thing I know the rooster is calling and a cool, fresh breeze is blowing through the open window. I barely have time to wipe the sleep from my eyes and brush myself down before the door opens and Harris enters.
He takes one look around, and sighs, a deep, wistful sigh.
“Things just get worse and worse for you, Manning,” he remarks. “You are your own worst enemy.”
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
“We don’t have to believe anyone,” Harris replies sternly. “I intend to know the truth and be happy with nothing else. Right now, your story doesn’t hold water. It doesn’t tie up. We know you’ve been leaving yourself open to accusations. We’ve been watching your activities for some time. But we thought you were endangering the reputation of this site with the Government; not risking the country herself. Perhaps I put too much trust in your intellectual pride.”
He pauses for a moment, considering something. Then he continues:
“It might have been Hooper. It might have been you. No-one here is in the business of guessing, you know that. Our business is to decode. To get to the bottom of whatever’s going on. You’ve not placed yourself beyond suspicion and until you do so...” Harris shrugs. “I’m afraid I have fewer and fewer choices as time goes on. If that component has left these grounds then every minute is critical.”
“Then you know I’m right. You knew all along. Why did you threaten me?”
“We don’t know anything, except that we have a traitor, holding the fate of the country in their hands. No-one here is in the business of guessing, you know that. Our business is to decode. To get to the bottom of whatever’s going on. You’ve not placed yourself beyond suspicion and until you do so...” Harris shrugs. “I’m afraid I have fewer and fewer choices as time goes on. If that component has left these grounds then every minute is critical.”
“I don’t think Hooper could have planned this in advance. So he’d need to get word to whoever he’s working with, and that would take time. So I think he would have hidden it somewhere, and be waiting to make sure I soundly take the fall. That way, if anything goes wrong, he can arrange for the part to be conveniently re-found.”
“Makes sense,” Harris agrees, cautiously. I can see he’s still not entirely convinced by my tale, as well he might not be - I’ve hardly been entirely straight with him. “Which means the question is, what can we do to rat him out?”
I go over to the window and try to jimmy it open. Not much luck, but in my struggling I notice this window only backs on the thin little brook that runs down the back of the compound. Which means, if I smashed it, I might get away with no-one seeing.
Morning comes with the call of a rooster from the yard of the House. I must have slept after all. I pull myself up off the bunk, shivering slightly. There is condensation on the inside of the window. I have probably given myself a chill.
It’s not long after that Harris enters the hut. He closes the door behind him, careful as ever, then takes a chair across from me.
“You smell like a dog,” he remarks.
“I don’t think Hooper could have planned this in advance. So he’d need to get word to whoever he’s working with, and that would take time. So I think he would have hidden it somewhere, and be waiting to make sure I soundly take the fall. That way, if anything goes wrong, he can arrange for the part to be conveniently re-found.”
“Makes sense,” Harris agrees, cautiously. I can see he’s still not certain whether he can trust me. “Which means the question is, what can we do to rat him out?”
“I know nothing about it.” My voice is shaking with anger as I try to speak. I’m not accustomed to facing off against the Commander - against any man with a gun in his holster. “I don’t know what gives you the right to pick on me. I demand a lawyer.”
“This is time of war,” Harris answers. His tone of voice has fallen down into darkness. “And by God, if I have to shoot you to recover the component or stop it falling into the wrong hands, I will, do you understand me?”
There’s an icy silence. I’ve cracked him a little at least. He’s angry. He waves an impetuous hand across the field table.
“Now, drink your tea and talk.”
“No. I passed it on to Hooper.”
“I see. And what did he do with it?”
The bunk has a solid metal frame, a blanket, a pillow, nothing more.
I go over to the window and try to jimmy it open. Not much luck, but in my struggling I notice this window only backs on the thin little brook that runs down the back of the compound. Which means, if I smashed it, I might get away with no-one seeing.
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
“Then let him think he’s off the hook. Make a show of me. And then you’ll get your man.”
Somehow, I think. But that’s the part I need to work.
Harris gets to his feet. “All right,” he says. “I should no better than to trust a clever man, but we’ll give it a go.” Then, he smiles, with all his teeth, like a wolf. “Especially since this is a plan that involves keeping you in handcuffs. I don’t see what I have to lose.”
He raps on the door for the guard and gives the man a quick instruction. He returns a moment later with a cool pair of iron cuffs.
“Put ‘em up,” Harris instructs, and I do so. The metal closes around my wrists like a trap. I stand and follow Harris willingly out through the door.
But whatever I’m doing with my body, my mind is scheming. Somehow, I’m thinking, I have to get away from these men long enough to get that component behind Hut 2 and put it somewhere Hooper will go. Or, otherwise, somehow get Hooper to go there himself...
Harris marches me over to Hut 3, and gestures for the guard to stand aside. Pushing me forward, he opens the door nice and wide.
“Captain. Manning talked. If you’d step out for a moment?”
“I saw Hooper take it.”
“I see.” He is starting to lose his temper - I can see it in the creases of his face. I have seen Harris angry a few times, with lackeys and secretaries and the like, usually over things sent late or incorrectly. But never with us. With the “brains” he has always been so cautious, treating us like children. And now I see that, like a father, he wants only to smack us when we disobey him. “I wish you’d stop with your deceptions and get to the truth, man. Every minute matters.”
“Perhaps the accomplice thought it was Hooper being kept in here. Maybe they saw the guard...”
“This is all too far-fetched,” Harris says. “I’m glad to have this back, but I need to think.”
Getting to his feet, he nods once. “You’ll have to wait a little longer, I’m afraid, Manning.”
Then he steps out of the door, muttering to himself.
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
“Of my standing. My reputation.” I’m aware of how arrogant I must sound but I plough on all the same. “Hooper simply can’t bear knowing that, once all this is over, I’ll be the one receiving the knighthood and he...”
“No-one will be getting a knighthood if the Germans invade,” Harris answers sharply. He casts a quick eye to the door of the Hut to check the latch is still down, then continues in more of a murmur: “Not you and not Hooper. Now answer me.” For the first time since the door closed, I wonder what the threat might be if I do not.
“Let’s get straight to the point. Do you have the component?” Harris demands. “Do you know where it is?”
“I was quite certain, after a while. After we’d been talking. He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
That is Harris returning. Our little computation here is complete. I only hope one of the others will be able to explain to him that the part I stole will mean nothing to the Germans.
That is the true secret of the calculating engine, and the source of its power: not in the components themselves, but in how they are wired together. The diversity of patterns and structures they can form. Much like people - it is how they connect that determines our victories and tragedies, and not their genius.
Which makes me wonder. Should I give up my beautiful young man to them as well as myself?
Morning comes with the call of a rooster from the yard of the House. I must have slept after all. I pull myself up off the bunk, shivering slightly. There is condensation on the inside of the window. I have probably given myself a chill.
It’s not long after that Harris enters the hut. He closes the door behind him, careful as ever, then takes a chair across from me.
“You smell like a dog,” he remarks.
“It’s your problem. Your security breach. So much for your careful vetting process.” I lean back in my chair and fold my arms so the way they shake will not be visible. “You’d better get on with solving it, instead of wasting your time in here with me.”
Harris harrumphs. He’s thinking it all over.
“All right.” I am beaten, after all. “The missing component of the Bombe computer is hidden in a small cavity in a breeze-block supporting the left rear post of Hut 2. I put in there anticipating a search. I intended to dispose of it once the fuss had died down. I suppose I was foolish to think that it might.”
“Indeed you were. And, Mr Manning: God help you if you’re lying to me.”
Harris stands, and slips away smartly. The Commander holds the door for his superior, and follows him out. Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
There is nothing to be gained here. I have the component now; maybe it will be of some value tomorrow.
“All right. I’ll tell you what happened.” And never mind my shame, I think.
“I can imagine how it starts,” he growls.
“There was a young man, Harris. I met him in the town. A few months ago now. We got to talking - not about work, you understand. I said I was an accountant for a firm, just as I was supposed to. Although he seemed to know that wasn’t true. That got me wondering if he wasn’t one of us.”
Harris is not letting me off any more. “You seriously considered that possibility?”
“Of my standing. My reputation.” I’m aware of how arrogant I must sound but I plough on all the same. “Hooper simply can’t bear knowing that, once all this is over, I’ll be the one receiving the knighthood and he...”
“No-one will be getting a knighthood if the Germans invade,” Harris answers sharply. He casts a quick eye to the door of the Hut to check the latch is still down, then continues in more of a murmur: “Not you and not Hooper. Now answer me.” For the first time since the door closed, I wonder what the threat might be if I do not.
“Let’s get straight to the point. Do you have the component?” Harris demands. “Do you know where it is?”
I have no God to make peace with. I find it difficult to believe in goodness of any kind, in a world such as this.
I have no place here. No way to fit. I am the intercept - caught, in the middle, cryptic and understood only thinly, through devices and machines.
I wait a few minutes, to be sure Hooper and the Captain will have gone, then try the door. It’s locked, all right. I’m not really one for picking locks. Never tried it. I don’t think I’ll be getting out that way.
If I leave the component here somewhere it should be somewhere I can rely on Hooper finding it, but no-one before Hooper. In particular.
“Of course I do,” I answer.
The reel went missing from the Bombe this afternoon. The four of us were in the Hut at the time, working on the latest intercept. It was Russell who noticed the machine producing strange results and found the gap in its plugboard. But as to who took it - it could have been any of us.
And indeed, it must have been. The machine had been functioning as normal when we began our calculations. And then, a short few hours later, it was gone. We had to stop. There was nothing more we could do until it was replaced. The part was vital, just as the machine was vital, and so were the contents of the message, still unread twenty four hours later.
“Let’s get straight to the point. Do you have the component?” Harris demands. “Do you know where it is?”
I fold my arms, intended firmly to say nothing. But somehow, watching Harris’ face, I cannot bring myself to do it. I want to confess. I want to tell him everything I can, to explain myself to him, to earn his forgiveness. The sensation is so strong my will is powerless in the face of it.
Something is wrong with me, I am sure of it. There is a strange, bitter flavour on my tongue. I taste it as words start to form.
“I’ve done things,” I begin, uncomfortably. “I didn’t want to. I tried not to. But in the end, you understand. I had to. It felt like cutting off my own arm not to. Things I know I shouldn’t have. Things I perhaps regret.”
“I see,” Harris answers. “You’ve left yourself open. To pressure. Is that what you’re saying?”
“Tell Hooper I’ve confessed. In fact, better yet, let him see you march me off in handcuffs. Then let him go, and watch him. Ten to one he’ll go straight to wherever he’s hidden that component and his game will be up.”
Harris nods slowly, chewing over the idea. It isn’t a bad plan even - except, of course, Hooper has not hidden the component, and won’t lead them anywhere. But that’s a problem I might be able to solve once I’m out of this place; and once they’re busy, dogging Hooper’s steps from hut to hut.
“It’s an interesting idea,” the Commander muses. “But I’m not so sure he’ll be that stupid. And if he’s already passed the part on, well, the whole thing will only be a waste of time.”
I suppose my fist would do a good enough job. But I’d cut myself to ribbons, most likely. And the noise would be terrible. There must be a way of making this easier. I’m supposed to be a thief now. What would a burglar do?
I have no God to make peace with. I find it difficult to believe in goodness of any kind, in a world such as this.
I have no place here. No way to fit. I am the intercept - caught, in the middle, cryptic and understood only thinly, through devices and machines.
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
“No. Not for more than a moment, of course. Everyone here is marked out by how little we would be willing to say about it.”
“Only you told this young man more than a little, didn’t you?”
I nod. “He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
The window is my only way out of here. I just need a way to smash it.
I have in my head to blame Hooper, but somehow I cannot find a way to tell the story. Whatever they put in my tea, it has control of my tongue. Fighting as hard as I can, it does no good. I find myself collapsing, desperate to tell him everything, almost weeping with the shame of it.
“There was a young man, Harris. I met him in the town. A few months ago now. We got to talking - not about work, you understand. I said I was an accountant for a firm, just as I was supposed to. Although he seemed to know that wasn’t true. That got me wondering if he wasn’t one of us.”
Harris is not letting me off any more. “You seriously considered that possibility?”
I put my ear down to the keyhole, but there’s nothing now. Probably still a guard outside, of course, but they’re keeping mum.
“Tell Hooper I’ve confessed. In fact, better yet, let him see you march me off in handcuffs. Then let him go, and watch him. Ten to one he’ll go straight to wherever he’s hidden that component and his game will be up.”
Harris nods slowly, chewing over the idea. It isn’t a bad plan even - except, of course, Hooper has not hidden the component, and won’t lead them anywhere. But that’s a problem I might be able to solve once I’m out of this place; and once they’re busy, dogging Hooper’s steps from hut to hut.
“It’s an interesting idea,” the Commander muses. “But I’m not so sure he’ll be that stupid. And if he’s already passed the part on, well, the whole thing will only be a waste of time.”
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
“I’ve thought so before.”
“Let me tell you what happened this morning. Our men watching Hooper’s tent saw Hooper wake up, get dressed, clamber out of his tent and then remark with surprise as, while looking for his shoes, he stumbled on something just at the entrance of his tent.”
“I can’t remember.”
He draws his gun and lays it lightly on the field table.
“I’m sorry to threaten you, friend. But His Majesty needs that brain of yours, and that brain alone. There are plenty of other parts to you that our country could do better without. Now I’ll ask you again. Did you hide the component?”
“You want me to tell you what happened? You’ll be disgusted, I’m quite sure.”
“I can imagine how it starts,” he growls.
“There was a young man, Harris. I met him in the town. A few months ago now. We got to talking - not about work. I said I was an accountant for a firm, just as I was supposed to. Although he seemed to know that wasn’t true. That got me wondering if he wasn’t one of us.”
Harris is not letting me off any more. “You seriously considered that possibility?”
The blanket. Perfect. I scoop it up off the bed and hold it in place over the window. This should do it. Then I heft the bucket - this really is quite a fiddly thing to be doing, and I need far longer arms, especially in cuffs - and take a strong swing, trying to imagine it’s Harris’ face on the other side.
The sound of the impact is muffled. With my arm still covered, I sweep out the remaining glass in the frame. I’m ready to escape. The only trouble is - when they look in on me in the morning, there will be no question what has happened. It won’t help me one jot with shifting suspicion off my back.
“The component?”
“Yes,” Harris replies levelly. “The component that went missing this afternoon. I doubt that you’ve forgotten.”
He’s talking about the missing reel from the Bombe. Russell discovered it this afternoon when the machine began producing strange results. We were all in the Hut when it happened and it had been in place when we sat down to work. The conclusions had been obvious to all four of us immediately, but had gone undiscussed, even after the empty socket was located, the wiring torn on either side.
“Lucky these things are easy to replace,” Russell had remarked, and that had been that. We had stopped work, sent out for a new part to be machined. And drunk our tea and watched each other.
“Come now,” Harris says, quite the reasonable gent. “As I told you. We’re not interviewing everyone. Only you. So. I think you can be a little more forthcoming.”
The weight of the Bombe component safely in my jacket, I return the short way up the paths between the huts to the barrack block and the broken window.
It’s a little harder getting back through - the window is higher off the ground than the floor inside - but after a decent bit of jumping and hauling I manage to get my elbows up, and then one leg, and finally I collapse inside, quite winded and out breath.
“He has? I knew he would. The worm.”
“Steady now. Matters aren’t over yet. There’s still the issue of the component. It hasn’t turned up. He didn’t lead us to it. I guess he figured you must have had something on him. I don’t know.”
He looks quite put out by the whole affair. He is not the kind of man to deal well with ambiguities and probabilities, far preferred the clarity of fact and falsehood.
“You mean he confessed of his own accord? You didn’t catch him?”
“The Captain went back into that hut and he confessed immediately. We were so surprised we didn’t let you go.” He wrinkles his nose. “I’m rather sorry about that now, but I suppose we’ll let you go know. I suggest you have a wash.”
And with that he gestures to the doorway.
“Please, Hooper. You don’t understand what’s at stake. They have information on me. What I’ve done. I don’t need to tell you what I’ve done, you know. I know you do. And I know you think it’s wrong, but please man, have a soul. They were going to ruin me. And the component - it’s nothing. It’s not the secret of the Bombe, or even of what we’re doing here. It’s just a part. The German’s think it’s a weapon - a missile component or a detonator. Let them have it! Please, man. Just help me.”
“Help you?” Hooper stares, as I have gone mad. “Help you? You’re a traitor, Iain. You’re a traitor. A snake in the grass. And you’re queer.”
I lean back. “It’s your problem. Your security breach. So much for your careful vetting process.” I lean back in my chair and fold my arms so the way they shake will not be visible. “You’d better get on with solving it, instead of wasting your time in here with me.”
Harris harrumphs. He’s thinking it all over.
“You’re right.” I shake my head. “You’re right. I don’t see how I can help you after all. So, there’s only one conclusion.”
“Oh, yes? And what’s that?”
“It’s your problem. Your security breach. So much for your careful vetting process.” I lean back in my chair and fold my arms so the way they shake will not be visible. “You’d better get on with solving it, instead of wasting your time in here with me.”
Harris harrumphs. He’s thinking it all over.
I slip off my jacket and hold it with one hand over the glass. This should do it. Then I heft back my arm, and take a strong swing, trying to imagine it’s Harris’ face on the other side.
The sound of the impact is muffled. With my arm still covered, I sweep out the remaining glass in the frame. I’m ready to escape. The only trouble is - when they look in on me in the morning, there will be no question what has happened. It won’t help me one jot with shifting suspicion off my back.
It’s no good. That’s only half a solution. I couldn’t be happy with that.
“I’m not sure. I was asleep: I woke up when someone broke the window. I looked out to see who it was, but they were already gone.”
Harris looks at me with puzzlement. “Someone came by to break the window, and then ran off? That’s absurd. That’s utterly absurd. Admit it, Manning. You tried to escape and you couldn’t get through.”
I peer out of the window, but it looks out onto the little brook at the back of the compound, with no view of the other huts or the House. Who knows if there are men up, searching the base of Hut 2, following one another with flashlights...
The night draws on at its own pace. I suppose by morning I will know my fate.
I pause a moment, trying to choose my words. To just come out and say it, after a lifetime of hiding... I wouldn’t know how. To put it into words, bluntly and directly: that is a circle I cannot square.
“I’ve done things,” I begin, uncomfortably. “I didn’t want to. I tried not to. But in the end, you understand. I had to. It felt like cutting off my own arm not to. Things I know I shouldn’t have. Things I perhaps regret.”
“I see,” Harris answers. “You’ve left yourself open. To pressure. Is that what you’re saying?”
Ah, but of course! I slip off one shoe and heft it by the toe. The heel will make a decent enough hammer, if I give it enough wallop.
But I’ll cut my hand to ribbons doing it. And the noise would be terrible. There must be a way of making this easier. I’m supposed to be a thief now. What would a burglar do?
“I saw Hooper take it.”
“I see.” He is starting to lose his temper - I can see it in the creases of his face. I have seen Harris angry a few times, with lackeys and secretaries and the like, usually over things sent late or incorrectly. But never with us. With the “brains” he has always been so cautious, treating us like children. And now I see that, like a father, he wants only to smack us when we disobey him. “I wish you’d stop with your deceptions and get to the truth, man. Every minute matters.”
“Yes. Something like that. It’s a very lonely life otherwise. And the work we do - well. It only makes it worse. There’s barely a moment to oneself.”
“That’s how it is in the Service,” Harris answers. “I know you didn’t sign up for it but, well. There’s plenty of other men who didn’t who are serving now, too. Now, go on with your confession.”
That gives me pause, for a moment. I hadn’t thought of it as such. But I suppose that’s what this is. I am about to admit what I did, after all.
“There’s not much else to say. I took the part from Bombe computing device. You seem to know that already. I had to. He was going to expose me if I didn’t.”
“This young man was blackmailing you over your affair?”
The bunk has a solid metal frame, a blanket, a pillow, nothing more.
“All right. I’ll tell you what happened.” And never mind my shame, I think.
“I can imagine how it starts,” he growls.
“There was a young man, Harris. I met him in the town. A few months ago now. We got to talking - not about work, you understand. I said I was an accountant for a firm, just as I was supposed to. Although he seemed to know that wasn’t true. That got me wondering if he wasn’t one of us.”
Harris is not letting me off any more. “You seriously considered that possibility?”
“I’m looking forward to a long bath,” I reply. “And getting back to work.”
“Well, I’m afraid it is going to get worse for you,” Harris replies soberly. “We followed Hooper, and he took himself neatly to bed and slept like a boy scout. Which puts us back to square one, and you firmly in the frame. And I’m afraid I don’t have time for any more games. I want you to tell me where that component is, or we will hang you as a traitor.”
He passes a hand across his eyes with a long look of despair.
“I’m going to go outside and organise a rope. That’ll take about twelve minutes. That’s how long you have to decide.”
“You mean he confessed of his own accord? You didn’t catch him?”
“The Captain went back into that hut and he confessed immediately. We were so surprised we didn’t let you go.” He wrinkles his nose. “I’m rather sorry about that now, but I suppose we’ll let you go know. I suggest you have a wash.”
And with that he gestures to the doorway.
Let me see. There’s the bunk, a bucket, nothing else. I have my jacket but nothing in the pockets - no handkerchief, for instance.
I wait a few minutes, to be sure Hooper and the Captain will have gone, then try the door. It’s locked, all right. I’m not really one for picking locks. Never tried it. I don’t think I’ll be getting out that way.
“Of my genius. Hooper simply can’t stand that I’m cleverer than he is. We work so closely together, cooped up in that Hut all day. It drives him to distraction. To worse.”
“You’re suggesting Hooper would sabotage this country’s future simply to spite you?” Harris chooses his words like the military man he is, each lining up to create a ring around me.
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
“No. I have no idea.”
He’s talking about the missing reel from the Bombe. Russell discovered it this afternoon when the machine began producing strange results. We were all in the Hut when it happened and it had been in place when we sat down to work. The conclusions had been obvious to all four of us immediately, but had gone undiscussed, even after the empty socket was located, the wiring torn on either side.
“Lucky these things are easy to replace,” Russell had remarked, and that had been that. We had stopped work, sent out for a new part to be machined. And drunk our tea and watched each other.
“Come now,” Harris says, quite the reasonable gent. “As I told you. We’re not interviewing everyone. Only you. So. I think you can be a little more forthcoming.”
I have a single moment to shout something to Hooper before the door closes.
“I’ll get you Hooper, you’ll see!” I cry. Then:
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
I lean back. “It’s your problem. Your security breach. So much for your careful vetting process.” I lean back in my chair and fold my arms so the way they shake will not be visible. “You’d better get on with solving it, instead of wasting your time in here with me.”
Harris harrumphs. He’s thinking it all over.
I lift the cup and take a sip, staring him hard in the eye as I do so. He watches as I do so.
“Lapsang Souchong,” he remarks, placing his own cup down on the table with a clink. “Such a curious flavour. It might almost not be tea at all. You might say it hides a multitude of sins. As do you, isn’t that correct?”
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
The bucket? Hardly. The bucket might do some good if I wanted to sweep up the glass afterwards, but it won’t help me smash the glass quietly.
“The component?”
“Yes,” Harris replies levelly. “The component that went missing this afternoon. I doubt that you’ve forgotten.”
He’s talking about the missing reel from the Bombe. Russell discovered it this afternoon when the machine began producing strange results. We were all in the Hut when it happened and it had been in place when we sat down to work. The conclusions had been obvious to all four of us immediately, but had gone undiscussed, even after the empty socket was located, the wiring torn on either side.
“Lucky these things are easy to replace,” Russell had remarked, and that had been that. We had stopped work, sent out for a new part to be machined. And drunk our tea and watched each other.
“Come now,” Harris says, quite the reasonable gent. “As I told you. We’re not interviewing everyone. Only you. So. I think you can be a little more forthcoming.”
“I know nothing about it.” My voice is shaking as I try to speak. I’m not accustomed to facing off against the Commander - against any man with a gun in his holster. “I don’t know what gives you the right to pick on me. Shouldn’t I have a lawyer?”
“This is time of war,” Harris answers. His tone of voice has fallen down into darkness. “And by God, if I have to shoot you to recover the component or stop it falling into the wrong hands, I will, do you understand me?”
There’s an icy silence. He’s angry. He waves an impetuous hand across the field table.
“Now, drink your tea and talk.”
I set the cup carefully down on the table once more. “Why?” I ask coldly. “What’s in it?”
“Lapsang Souchong,” he remarks, placing his own cup down on the table with a clink. “Such a curious flavour. It might almost not be tea at all. You might say it hides a multitude of sins. As do you, isn’t that correct?”
“Yes. Something like that. It’s a very lonely life otherwise. And the work we do - well. It only makes it worse. There’s barely a moment to oneself.”
“That’s how it is in the Service,” Harris answers. “I know you didn’t sign up for it but, well. There’s plenty of other men who didn’t who are serving now, too. Now, go on with your confession.”
That gives me pause, for a moment. I hadn’t thought of it as such. But I suppose that’s what this is. I am about to admit what I did, after all.
“There’s not much else to say. I took the part from Bombe computing device. You seem to know that already. I had to. He was going to expose me if I didn’t.”
“This young man was blackmailing you over your affair?”
I put my ear down to the keyhole, but there’s nothing now. Probably still a guard outside, of course, but they’re keeping mum.
“Very well then.” I swallow nervously, to make it look more genuine. “No. I passed it on to Hooper.”
“I see. And what did he do with it?”
“I don’t think Hooper could have planned this in advance. So he’d need to get word to whoever he’s working with, and that would take time. So I think he would have hidden it somewhere, and be waiting to make sure I soundly take the fall. That way, if anything goes wrong, he can arrange for the part to be conveniently re-found.”
“Makes sense,” Harris agrees, cautiously. I can see he’s still not certain whether he can trust me. “Which means the question is, what can we do to rat him out?”
“You treated me like vermin. Like something abhorrent.”
“You are something abhorrent.”
“I wasn’t. Not when I came here. And I won’t be, once you’re gone.”
I get to my feet and open the door of the Hut. The Captain storms back inside and I’m quickly thrown out. Harris hustles me over to the barracks. “I hope that’s the end of it,” he mutters as he pushes me up the steps.
“Just be sure to let him out,” I reply. “And then see where he goes.”
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. Thinking back, I should have wrapped the part from the Bombe in one of his shirts before hiding it, that would have been a clever move. I really do make a terrible spy.
I say nothing, my lips tightly, firmly sealed. It’s true I am a traitor, to the very laws of nature. The world has taught me that since a very early age. But not to my country - should the Reich win this war, I would hardly be treated as an honoured hero. I was doomed from the very start.
I explain none of this. How could a man like Harris understand?
The Commander takes one look back from the doorway as he pulls it to.
“It’s been a pleasure working with you, Mr Manning,” he declares. “You’ve done a great service to this country. If we come through, I’m sure they’ll remember you name. I’m sorry it had to end this way and I’ll do my best to keep it quiet. No-one need know what you did.”
Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
“Yes, I considered it. He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
“No. Not for more than a moment, of course. Everyone here is marked out by how little we would be willing to say about it.”
“Only you told this young man more than a little, didn’t you?”
I nod. “He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
“I don’t know what gives you the right to pick on me. Shouldn’t I have a lawyer?”
“This is time of war,” Harris answers. His tone of voice has fallen down into darkness. “And by God, if I have to shoot you to recover the component or stop it falling into the wrong hands, I will, do you understand me?”
There’s an icy silence. He’s angry at my slippery answers. He waves an impetuous hand across the field table.
“Now, drink your tea and talk.”
“I know nothing about it.” My voice is shaking as I try to speak. I’m not accustomed to facing off against the Commander - against any man with a gun in his holster. “I don’t know what gives you the right to pick on me. Shouldn’t I have a lawyer?”
“This is time of war,” Harris answers. His tone of voice has fallen down into darkness. “And by God, if I have to shoot you to recover the component or stop it falling into the wrong hands, I will, do you understand me?”
There’s an icy silence. He’s angry. He waves an impetuous hand across the field table.
“Now, drink your tea and talk.”
“You mean he confessed of his own accord? You didn’t catch him?”
“The Captain went back into that hut and he confessed immediately. We were so surprised we didn’t let you go.” He wrinkles his nose. “I’m rather sorry about that now, but I suppose we’ll let you go know. I suggest you have a wash.”
And with that he gestures to the doorway.
“Yes, I considered it. He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
“I saw him take it,” I reply, stubbornly. “Collins and Humph were outside having a cigarette, I think. The other two men were at the table. But I was at the front of the machine. I saw Hooper go around the side, and lean down, and pull something free. I even challenged him on it. I said, ‘What’s that? Someone put a nail through somewhere they shouldn’t have?’ He didn’t reply.”
“We are left with two possibilities, quite clearly. You, or Hooper.” The Commander pauses to smooth down his moustache. “Hooper’s in Hut 3 with the Captain, having a similar conversation.”
The rest of the night passes slowly. I sleep a little, dozing mostly. Then I’m woken by the rooster in the yard. The door opens, and Harris comes in. He takes one look at the broken window and frowns with puzzlement.
“What happened there?”
The bunk has a solid metal frame, a blanket, a pillow, nothing more.
“So would you after the night I’ve had.”
“Well, I’m afraid it is going to get worse for you,” Harris replies soberly. “We followed Hooper, and he took himself neatly to bed and slept like a boy scout. Which puts us back to square one, and you firmly in the frame. And I’m afraid I don’t have time for any more games. I want you to tell me where that component is, or we will hang you as a traitor.”
He passes a hand across his eyes with a long look of despair.
“I’m going to go outside and organise a rope. That’ll take about twelve minutes. That’s how long you have to decide.”
Moving quickly and quietly, I hoist myself up onto the window-frame and worm my way outside into the freezing night air. Then I’m away, slipping down the paths between the Huts, sticking to the shadows, on my way to Hut 2.
“All right. I’ll tell you what happened.” And never mind my shame, I think.
“I can imagine how it starts,” he growls.
“There was a young man, Harris. I met him in the town. A few months ago now. We got to talking - not about work, you understand. I said I was an accountant for a firm, just as I was supposed to. Although he seemed to know that wasn’t true. That got me wondering if he wasn’t one of us.”
Harris is not letting me off any more. “You seriously considered that possibility?”
In a week’s time, this whole affair will be in the past and quite forgotten. I’m quite sure of that.
I’ve more important problems to think about now. There’s still yesterday’s intercept to be resolved. The Bombe needs to be set up once more and set running.
It’s time I tackled a problem I can solve.
“No, I suppose not.” I push the teacup around on its base. “All I can say is, ever since I arrived here, he’s been looking to ways to bring me down a peg. I wouldn’t be surprised if he set this whole affair up just to have me court-martialled.”
“We don’t court-martial civilians,” Harris replies. “Traitors are simply hung at her Majesty’s pleasure.”
“Perhaps Hooper had an accomplice. Someone else who works on site.”
Harris shakes his head, distractedly. “That doesn’t make sense,” he says. “Why go to all the trouble of stealing it only to give it back? And why like this?”
“Yes, I considered it. He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
I wait a few minutes, to be sure the Commander will have gone, then try the door. It’s locked, all right. I’m not really one for picking locks. Never tried it. I don’t think I’ll be getting out that way.
From outside, I hear a voice. Hooper’s. He’s haranguing someone, for something.
“So would you after the night I’ve had.”
“Well, I’m afraid it is going to get worse for you,” Harris replies soberly. “We followed Hooper, and he took himself neatly to bed and slept like a boy scout. Which puts us back to square one, and you firmly in the frame. And I’m afraid I don’t have time for any more games. I want you to tell me where that component is, or we will hang you as a traitor.”
He passes a hand across his eyes with a long look of despair.
“I’m going to go outside and organise a rope. That’ll take about twelve minutes. That’s how long you have to decide.”
“Or be thrown into the river.”
“Hmm.” Harris chews his moustache thoughtfully. “Well, that would put us in a spot, seeing as how we’d never know for certain. We’d have to be ready to change our whole approach just in case the part had got through to the Germans. I don’t mind telling you, this is a disaster, this whole thing. What I want is to find that little bit of mechanical trickery anywhere. I don’t care where. In your luncheon box or under Hooper’s pillow, whatever. Just somewhere, and within the grounds of this place.”
“I can’t remember.”
He draws his gun and lays it lightly on the field table.
“I’m sorry to threaten you, friend. But His Majesty needs that brain of yours, and that brain alone. There are plenty of other parts to you that our country could do better without. Now I’ll ask you again. Did you hide the component?”
I pause a moment, trying to choose my words. To just come out and say it, after a lifetime of hiding... I wouldn’t know how. To put it into words, bluntly and directly: that is a circle I cannot square.
“I’ve done things,” I begin, uncomfortably. “I didn’t want to. I tried not to. But in the end, you understand. I had to. It felt like cutting off my own arm not to. Things I know I shouldn’t have. Things I perhaps regret.”
“I see,” Harris answers. “You’ve left yourself open. To pressure. Is that what you’re saying?”
“That’s exactly it,” I say quietly. “Harris. You understand. There are some things... which can get a man into a lot of trouble. Things one shouldn’t do.”
Harris, to his credit, doesn’t stiffen. He doesn’t lean away, or remove his hands from the table-top as though my condition might be infectious. I thought they trained them in the army to shoot my kind on sight but he does not.
Of course, he does not offer any sympathy either. He only nods, once. The understanding that has passed between us here is a mere turning cog in his calculations, with no meaning or righteousness to it.
“I’ve seen the same story a hundred times before,” he says. “A young man like yourself - clever, somewhat removed from the world. The kind that doesn’t go to parties, you might say. Who takes himself a little too seriously, perhaps. Takes things too far. Further than a man should allow a thing to go. That’s the story, isn’t it? You took things too far, and then you couldn’t take them back. And now they have you.”
I pat down my pockets but all I’m carrying is the intercept, which is no good at all.
“Look, I know where it is. The missing piece of the Bombe is in the long grasses behind Hooper’s tent. I saw him throw it there right after we finished work. He knew you’d scour the camp but I suppose he thought you’d more obvious places first. I suppose he was right about that. Look there. That proves his guilt.”
“That doesn’t prove anything,” Harris returns sharply. “But we’ll check what you say, all the same.” He gets to his feet and heads out of the door.
Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
I put my ear down to the keyhole, but there’s nothing now. Probably still a guard outside, of course, but they’re keeping mum.
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
I shake my head violently, to say no, that’s not it, but whatever is wrong with tongue is wrong with neck too. I look across at the table at Harris’ face and realise with a start how sympathetic he is. Such a kind, generous man. How can I hold anything back from him?
I take another mouthful of the bitter, strange-tasting tea before answering.
“That’s exactly it,” I say quietly. “Harris. You understand. There are some things... which can get a man into a lot of trouble. Things one shouldn’t do.”
Harris, to his credit, doesn’t stiffen. He doesn’t lean away, or remove his hands from the table-top as though my condition might be infectious. I thought they trained them in the army to shoot my kind on sight but he does not.
Of course, he does not offer any sympathy either. He only nods, once. The understanding that has passed between us here is a mere turning cog in his calculations, with no meaning or righteousness to it.
“I’ve seen the same story a hundred times before,” he says. “A young man like yourself - clever, somewhat removed from the world. The kind that doesn’t go to parties, you might say. Who takes himself a little too seriously, perhaps. Takes things too far. Further than a man should allow a thing to go. That’s the story, isn’t it? You took things too far, and then you couldn’t take them back. And now they have you.”
Ah, but of course! I slip off one shoe and heft it by the toe. The heel will make a decent enough hammer, if I give it enough wallop.
But I’ll cut my hand to ribbons doing it. And the noise would be terrible. There must be a way of making this easier. I’m supposed to be a thief now. What would a burglar do?
I have no God to make peace with. I find it difficult to believe in goodness of any kind, in a world such as this.
But I am no traitor. At least, not to my country. To my sex, perhaps. But how could I support the Reich? If it were to come to power, I would be worse off than under the already dire circumstances of my existence.
I have no place here. No way to fit. I am the intercept - caught, in the middle, cryptic and understood only thinly, through devices and machines.
“Yes. Something like that. It’s a very lonely life otherwise. And the work we do - well. It only makes it worse. There’s barely a moment to oneself.”
“That’s how it is in the Service,” Harris answers. “I know you didn’t sign up for it but, well. There’s plenty of other men who didn’t who are serving now, too. Now, go on with your confession.”
That gives me pause, for a moment. I hadn’t thought of it as such. But I suppose that’s what this is. I am about to admit what I did, after all.
“There’s not much else to say. I took the part from Bombe computing device. You seem to know that already. I had to. He was going to expose me if I didn’t.”
“This young man was blackmailing you over your affair?”
“I’m not trying to do anything except save my neck.”
“Let’s hope things work out,” Harris agrees darkly.
He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
There’s no time to lose. Throwing caution to the wind I make my way quickly to Hut 2, and around the back. I don’t think I’ve been followed, or seen but if I have, it’s too late. My actions are suspicious enough for anyone’s noose. I have no choice but to follow through.
The component is still there, wrapped in a tea-towel and shoved into a cavity in a breeze-block at the base of the Hut wall.
“Of course I do,” I answer.
The reel went missing from the Bombe this afternoon. The four of us were in the Hut at the time, working on the latest intercept. It was Russell who noticed the machine producing strange results and found the gap in its plugboard. But as to who took it - it could have been any of us.
And indeed, it must have been. The machine had been functioning as normal when we began our calculations. And then, a short few hours later, it was gone. We had to stop. There was nothing more we could do until it was replaced. The part was vital, just as the machine was vital, and so were the contents of the message, still unread twenty four hours later.
“Let’s get straight to the point. Do you have the component?” Harris demands. “Do you know where it is?”
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
“No. I passed it on to Hooper.”
“I see. And what did he do with it?”
“We’ll fool him. He’s waiting to be sure that I’ve been strung up for this, so let’s give him what he wants. If he sees me taken away, clapped in irons - he’ll go straight to that component and set about getting rid of it.”
Harris gets to his feet. “All right,” he says. “I should no better than to trust a clever man, but we’ll give it a go.” Then, he smiles, with all his teeth, like a wolf. “Hooper’s in Hut 3 being debriefed by the Captain. Let’s see if we can’t get his attention somehow.”
He raps on the door for the guard and gives the man a quick instruction. He returns a moment later with a cool pair of iron cuffs.
“Put ‘em up,” Harris instructs, and I do so. The metal closes around my wrists like a trap. I stand and follow Harris willingly out through the door.
But whatever I’m doing with my body, my mind is scheming. Somehow, I’m thinking, I have to get away from these men long enough to get that component behind Hut 2 and put it somewhere Hooper will go. Or, otherwise, somehow get Hooper to go there himself...
Harris marches me over to Hut 3, and gestures for the guard to stand aside. Pushing me forward, he opens the door nice and wide.
“Captain. Manning talked. If you’d step out for a moment?”
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
“Really, Commander,” I reply. “It rather sounds like you want to spank me.”
“For God’s sake,” he declares with thick disgust, then swoops away out of the room. Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
“Then I’ll be going, on and getting on with my job of saving her, shall I?” I even rise half to my feet, before he slams the tabletop.
“Talk,” Harris demands. “Talk, now. Tell me where you’ve hidden it or who you’ve passed it to. Or God help me, but I’ll take your wretched pansy body to pieces looking for it, do you understand me?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
“I’ll talk to him.”
“What?”
“Put me in with Hooper. Maybe I can get something useful out of him. As his colleague.”
Harris shakes his head. “He despises you, doesn’t he? I don’t see why he’d give himself up to you.”
After a chance like this? A chance - however real - to save my neck? To hand it over - what, to save Hooper’s worthless skin?
“Of course I do,” I answer.
The reel went missing from the Bombe this afternoon. The four of us were in the Hut at the time, working on the latest intercept. It was Russell who noticed the machine producing strange results and found the gap in its plugboard. But as to who took it - it could have been any of us.
And indeed, it must have been. The machine had been functioning as normal when we began our calculations. And then, a short few hours later, it was gone. We had to stop. There was nothing more we could do until it was replaced. The part was vital, just as the machine was vital, and so were the contents of the message, still unread twenty four hours later.
“Let’s get straight to the point. Do you have the component?” Harris demands. “Do you know where it is?”
From where he’s sitting, I know Hooper can see me, so I keep my head down and look guilty as sin. The bastard is probably smiling.
The Captain comes outside, pulling the door to. “What’s this?” he asks. “A confession? Just like that?”
“No,” the Commander admits, in a low voice. “I’m afraid not. Rather more a scheme. The idea is to let Hooper go and see what he does. If he believes we have Manning here in irons, he’ll try to shift the component.”
“If he has it.”
“Indeed.”
The Captain peers at me for a moment, like I was some kind of curious insect.
“Sometimes, I think you people are magicians,” he remarks. “Other times you seem more like witches. Very well.”
With that he opens the door to the Hut and goes back inside. The Commander uses the moment to hustle me roughly forward.
“This scheme of yours had better come off,” he hisses in my ear. “Otherwise the Captain is going to start having men tailing me to see where I go on Saturdays.”
“Or be thrown into the river.”
“Hmm.” Harris chews his moustache thoughtfully. “Well, that would put us in a spot, seeing as how we’d never know for certain. We’d have to be ready to change our whole approach just in case the part had got through to the Germans. I don’t mind telling you, this is a disaster, this whole thing. What I want is to find that little bit of mechanical trickery anywhere. I don’t care where. In your luncheon box or under Hooper’s pillow, whatever. Just somewhere, and within the grounds of this place.”
I put my ear down to the keyhole, but there’s nothing now. Probably still a guard outside, of course, but they’re keeping mum.
“Please, Hooper. You don’t understand what’s at stake. They have information on me. What I’ve done. I don’t need to tell you what I’ve done, you know. I know you do. And I know you think it’s wrong, but please man, have a soul. They were going to ruin me. And the component - it’s nothing. It’s not the secret of the Bombe, or even of what we’re doing here. It’s just a part. The German’s think it’s a weapon - a missile component or a detonator. Let them have it! Please, man. Just help me.”
“Help you?” Hooper stares, as I have gone mad. “Help you? You’re a traitor, Iain. You’re a traitor. A snake in the grass. And you’re queer.”
“Here at Bletchley? Of course I do”
“Here, now,” Harris replies firmly. “We’re not talking to everyone, you understand. I can imagine you might feel pretty sore about that, old man. I can imagine you feeling picked on.”
I put my ear down to the keyhole, but there’s nothing now. Probably still a guard outside, of course, but they’re keeping mum.
If I leave the component here somewhere it should be somewhere I can rely on Hooper finding it, but no-one before Hooper. In particular.
No, I am content. I suppose I do not believe they will hang me. They will lock me up and continue to use my brain, if they can. I wonder what they will tell the world - perhaps that I have taken my own life. That would be simplest. The few who know me would believe it.
Well, then. Not a bad existence, in prison. Removed from temptation. A kind of imposed monasticism, with plenty more problems to solve, and more mysteries to fathom.
I wonder what else I might yet unravel before I’m done?
“He’s petty enough, certainly. He’s a creep.” I wipe a hand across my forehead. “All I can say is, ever since I arrived here, he’s been looking to ways to bring me down a peg. I wouldn’t be surprised if he set this whole affair up just to have me court-martialled.”
“We don’t court-martial civilians,” Harris replies. “Traitors are simply hung at her Majesty’s pleasure.”
I have no God to make peace with. I find it difficult to believe in goodness of any kind, in a world such as this.
But I am no traitor. At least, not to my country. To my sex, perhaps. But how could I support the Reich? If it were to come to power, I would be worse off than under the already dire circumstances of my existence.
I have no place here. No way to fit. I am the intercept - caught, in the middle, cryptic and understood only thinly, through devices and machines.
“He has? I knew he would. The worm.”
“Steady now. Matters aren’t over yet. There’s still the issue of the component. It hasn’t turned up. He didn’t lead us to it. I guess he figured you must have had something on him. I don’t know.”
He looks quite put out by the whole affair. He is not the kind of man to deal well with ambiguities and probabilities, far preferred the clarity of fact and falsehood.
The bunk has a solid metal frame, a blanket, a pillow, nothing more.
I have no God to make peace with. I find it difficult to believe in goodness of any kind, in a world such as this.
But I am no traitor. At least, not to my country. To my sex, perhaps. But how could I support the Reich? If it were to come to power, I would be worse off than under the already dire circumstances of my existence.
I have no place here. No way to fit. I am the intercept - caught, in the middle, cryptic and understood only thinly, through devices and machines.
“How should I know?” I reply, defensively. “All I can say is, ever since I arrived here, he’s been looking to ways to bring me down a peg. I wouldn’t be surprised if he set this whole affair up just to have me court-martialled.”
“We don’t court-martial civilians,” Harris replies. “Traitors are simply hung at her Majesty’s pleasure.”
I slip off my jacket and hold it with one hand over the glass. This should do it. Then I heft back my arm, and take a strong swing, trying to imagine it’s Harris’ face on the other side.
The sound of the impact is muffled. With my arm still covered, I sweep out the remaining glass in the frame. I’m ready to escape. The only trouble is - when they look in on me in the morning, there will be no question what has happened. It won’t help me one jot with shifting suspicion off my back.
“I don’t know.”
“You can do better than that. Remember, there’s a hangman’s noose waiting for traitors.”
“That’s exactly it,” I say quietly. “Harris. You understand. There are some things... which can get a man into a lot of trouble. Things one shouldn’t do.”
Harris, to his credit, doesn’t stiffen. He doesn’t lean away, or remove his hands from the table-top as though my condition might be infectious. I thought they trained them in the army to shoot my kind on sight but he does not.
Of course, he does not offer any sympathy either. He only nods, once. The understanding that has passed between us here is a mere turning cog in his calculations, with no meaning or righteousness to it.
“I’ve seen the same story a hundred times before,” he says. “A young man like yourself - clever, somewhat removed from the world. The kind that doesn’t go to parties, you might say. Who takes himself a little too seriously, perhaps. Takes things too far. Further than a man should allow a thing to go. That’s the story, isn’t it? You took things too far, and then you couldn’t take them back. And now they have you.”
“An accident, naturally.” I risk a smile. “That damned machine, Harris; it’s made from spare parts and string. Even these huts leak when it rains. It wouldn’t take more than one fellow to trip over a cable to shake out a component and have it roll away across the floor. Have you tried looking under the thing?”
Harris doesn’t smile. “Do you suppose we haven’t? Do you supposed we haven’t combed every inch of this place already?”
In a sudden moment I understand that his reply is a threat.
“Now,” he continues. “Are you sure there isn’t anything you want to tell me?”
“Quite terrible. I would never have guessed.”
“Well.” Russell harrumphs. “Quince was saying this morning, apparently his grandfather was German. So perhaps it’s to be expected. See you there?”
I wave to him and move away, my thoughts turning to the young man in the village. My lover. My contact. My blackmailer. Hooper may have taken the fall for the missing component, but if it was his recovering it from Hut 2 then I have nothing to sell to save my reputation.
If he didn’t, of course, and Harris was telling the truth about his sudden confession, then I will be able to buy my freedom once and for all.
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
“It will. Hooper’s running scared,” I reply, hoping I sound more confident than I feel.
“I think we’ve had enough drama today already,” Harris replies. “Let’s hope for a clean kill.”
He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
The rest of the night passes slowly. I sleep a little, dozing mostly. Then I’m woken by the rooster in the yard. The door opens, and Harris comes in. He takes one look at the broken window and frowns with puzzlement.
“What happened there?”
“I spoke to Russell. He said he saw Hooper doing something round here. I wanted to see what it was.”
“Enough.” Harris gestures for me to start walking. “This story couldn’t be simpler. You took it to cover your back. You hid it. You lied to get Hooper into trouble, and when you thought you’d won, you came to scoop your prize. A good hand but ultimately, you told Hooper where to look with your little riddle.”
He leads me across the yard. Back towards Hut 5 to be decoded, and taken to pieces, once again.
I lift the cup and take a sip, staring him hard in the eye as I do so. He watches as I do so.
“Lapsang Souchong,” he remarks, placing his own cup down on the table with a clink. “Such a curious flavour. It might almost not be tea at all. You might say it hides a multitude of sins. As do you, isn’t that correct?”
“Heard what?”
“Hooper’s been taken away. They caught him, uncovering that missing Bombe component from a hiding place somewhere, apparently about to take it to his contact.” Russell harrumphs. “Quince was saying this morning, apparently his grandfather was German. So perhaps it’s to be expected. See you there?”
I wave to him and move away, my thoughts turning to the young man in the village. My lover. My contact. My blackmailer. Hooper may have taken the fall for the missing component, but if it was his recovering it from Hut 2 then I have nothing to sell to save my reputation, if I have any left.
If he didn’t, of course, and Harris was telling the truth about his sudden confession, then I will be able to buy my freedom once and for all.
“Ask not for whom the bell tolls!”
He stares back at me, as if were a madman and perhaps for a split second I see him shudder.
The Captain comes outside, pulling the door to. “What’s this?” he asks. “A confession? Just like that?”
“No,” the Commander admits, in a low voice. “I’m afraid not. Rather more a scheme. The idea is to let Hooper go and see what he does. If he believes we have Manning here in irons, he’ll try to shift the component.”
“If he has it.”
“Indeed.”
The Captain peers at me for a moment, like I was some kind of curious insect.
“Sometimes, I think you people are magicians,” he remarks. “Other times you seem more like witches. Very well.”
With that he opens the door to the Hut and goes back inside. The Commander uses the moment to hustle me roughly forward.
“And what was all that shouting about?” he hisses in my ear as we move towards the barracks. “Are you trying to pull something? Or just make me look incompetent?”
It’s no good. Nothing I can do will be any less than obvious - something appearing where something was not there before. The men watching Hooper will know it is a deception and Hooper’s protestations will be taken at face value.
If I can’t find a way for Hooper to pick the component up, as if from a hiding place of his own devising, and be caught doing it, then I have no plan at all.
“Maybe I can help with that.”
“Oh, yes? And how, exactly?”
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
I shift in my seat. “Not really. The boy was a simpleton, obviously. My intellectual inferior. His good opinion meant nothing to be. Harris, please do not misunderstand me. I was simply after his body.”
Harris, to his credit, doesn’t flinch. Well, perhaps not: but he’ll have nightmares of this moment tonight. I’m almost tempted to reach out and try to take his hand to worsen it for him, but I hold back.
“Go on with your confession,” he replies. I shrug.
“There’s not much else to say. I took the part from Bombe computing device. You seem to know that already. I had to. He was going to expose me if I didn’t.”
“This young man was blackmailing you over your affair?”
“What could I do?” I’m shaking now. The night is cold and the heat-lamp in this hut has been removed, presumably to keep me alert and on edge. “I won’t go to prison.”
“You committed a crime,” Harris answers. If I had any sense that he understood my predicament, and that he felt for my state of being, it collapses like a chain with a broken link. “You thought you could repair it with another, more serious crime?” He shakes his head. “I thought you men were supposed to be clever. But this is the action of a frightened woman. So I’d like you to tell me, now. Where is it?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
“I’d be happy to help,” I answer, sympathetically, leaning forward across the table. “I’m sure there’s something I could do.”
“Like what, exactly?”
“Right now, I think you take that role, Harris,” I reply coolly.
“Very droll,” he replies. “Let me tell you what happened this morning, and see if it takes the smile off your face. Our men watching Hooper’s tent saw Hooper wake up, get dressed, clamber out of his tent and then remark with surprise as, while looking for his shoes, he stumbled on something just at the entrance of his tent.”
“Ask not for whom the bell tolls!”
He stares back at me, as if were a madman and perhaps for a split second I see him shudder.
The Captain comes outside, pulling the door to. “What’s this?” he asks. “A confession? Just like that?”
“No,” the Commander admits, in a low voice. “I’m afraid not. Rather more a scheme. The idea is to let Hooper go and see what he does. If he believes we have Manning here in irons, he’ll try to shift the component.”
“If he has it.”
“Indeed.”
The Captain peers at me for a moment, like I was some kind of curious insect.
“Sometimes, I think you people are magicians,” he remarks. “Other times you seem more like witches. Very well.”
With that he opens the door to the Hut and goes back inside. The Commander uses the moment to hustle me roughly forward.
“And what was all that shouting about?” he hisses in my ear as we move towards the barracks. “Are you trying to pull something? Or just make me look incompetent?”
“He has? I knew he would. The worm.”
“Steady now. Matters aren’t over yet. There’s still the issue of the component. It hasn’t turned up. He didn’t lead us to it. I guess he figured you must have had something on him. I don’t know.”
He looks quite put out by the whole affair. He is not the kind of man to deal well with ambiguities and probabilities, far preferred the clarity of fact and falsehood.
“None of us are blameless, Harris. But I’ve done nothing to deserve this treatment. Now, please. Let me go. I’ll help you find this damn component, of course I will.”
He appears to consider the offer.
“Tell me, then,” he asks. “What’s your theory? You’re a smart fellow - as smart as they come around here, and that’s saying something. What’s your opinion on the missing component? Accident, perhaps? Or do you blame one of the other men?”
“All right. I’ll tell you what happened.” And never mind my shame, I think.
“I can imagine how it starts,” he growls.
“There was a young man, Harris. I met him in the town. A few months ago now. We got to talking - not about work, you understand. I said I was an accountant for a firm, just as I was supposed to. Although he seemed to know that wasn’t true. That got me wondering if he wasn’t one of us.”
Harris is not letting me off any more. “You seriously considered that possibility?”
“I’m not sure. I was asleep: I woke up when someone broke the window. I looked out to see who it was, but they were already gone.”
Harris looks at me with puzzlement. “Someone came by to break the window, and then ran off? That’s absurd. That’s utterly absurd. Admit it, Manning. You tried to escape and you couldn’t get through.”
Work carefully? It’s difficult to work carefully when all one’s has is a shoe.
“Yes.”
Harris stares back at me. He cannot have expected it to be so easy to break me.
“I see.” There’s a long pause, like the endless delay between feeding in a line of cypher to the Bombe and waiting for its valves and cylinders to heat up enough to being processing. “Would you like to explain?”
“Very well. I see there’s no point in covering up. You know everything anyway.”
Harris nods, and waits for me to continue.
“There was a young man, Harris. I met him in the town. A few months ago now. We got to talking - not about work. I said I was an accountant for a firm, just as I was supposed to. Although he seemed to know that wasn’t true. That got me wondering if he wasn’t one of us.”
Harris is not letting me off any more. “You seriously considered that possibility?”
“I know nothing about it.” My voice is shaking as I try to speak. I’m not accustomed to facing off against the Commander - against any man with a gun in his holster. “I don’t know what gives you the right to pick on me. Shouldn’t I have a lawyer?”
“This is time of war,” Harris answers. His tone of voice has fallen down into darkness. “And by God, if I have to shoot you to recover the component or stop it falling into the wrong hands, I will, do you understand me?”
There’s an icy silence. He’s angry at my slippery answers. He waves an impetuous hand across the field table.
“Now, drink your tea and talk.”
I wait a few minutes, to be sure Hooper and the Captain will have gone, then try the door. It’s locked, all right. I’m not really one for picking locks. Never tried it. I don’t think I’ll be getting out that way.
“Very well then.” I swallow nervously, to make it look more genuine. “No. I passed it on to Hooper.”
“I see. And what did he do with it?”
“If I wanted to escape, I would have made damn sure that I could,” I tell him sternly.
“Well, I’m afraid it is going to get worse for you,” Harris replies soberly. “We followed Hooper, and he took himself neatly to bed and slept like a boy scout. Which puts us back to square one, and you firmly in the frame. And I’m afraid I don’t have time for any more games. I want you to tell me where that component is, or we will hang you as a traitor.”
He passes a hand across his eyes with a long look of despair.
“I’m going to go outside and organise a rope. That’ll take about twelve minutes. That’s how long you have to decide.”
I go over to the window and try to jimmy it open. Not much luck, but in my struggling I notice this window only backs on the thin little brook that runs down the back of the compound. Which means, if I smashed it, I might get away with no-one seeing.
“I saw him take it,” I reply, stubbornly. “Collins and Humph were outside having a cigarette, I think. The other two men were at the table. But I was at the front of the machine. I saw Hooper go around the side, and lean down, and pull something free. I even challenged him on it. I said, ‘What’s that? Someone put a nail through somewhere they shouldn’t have?’ He didn’t reply.”
“We are left with two possibilities, quite clearly. You, or Hooper.” The Commander pauses to smooth down his moustache. “Hooper’s in Hut 3 with the Captain, having a similar conversation.”
Let me see. There’s the bunk, a bucket, nothing else. I have my jacket but nothing in the pockets - no handkerchief, for instance.
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
I say nothing, my lips tightly, firmly sealed. It’s true I am a traitor, to the very laws of nature. The world has taught me that since a very early age. But not to my country - should the Reich win this war, I would hardly be treated as an honoured hero. I was doomed from the very start.
I explain none of this. How could a man like Harris understand?
The Commander takes one look back from the doorway as he pulls it to.
“It’s been a pleasure working with you, Mr Manning,” he declares. “You’ve done a great service to this country. If we come through, I’m sure they’ll remember you name. I’m sorry it had to end this way and I’ll do my best to keep it quiet. No-one need know what you did.”
Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
“You’re the one applying pressure here,” I answer smartly. “I’m just waiting until you tell me what is really going on.”
“It’s simple enough,” Harris replies. “I’ve seen the same story a hundred times before,” he says. “A young man like yourself - clever, somewhat removed from the world. The kind that doesn’t go to parties, you might say. Who takes himself a little too seriously, perhaps. Takes things too far. Further than a man should allow a thing to go. That’s the story, isn’t it? You took things too far, and then you couldn’t take them back. And now they have you.”
Work carefully? It’s difficult to work carefully when all one’s has is a shoe.
“I’m no traitor,” I answer smartly.
He stares back at me. “Let’s get straight to the point. Do you have the component?” Harris demands. “Do you know where it is?”
“The component?”
“Yes,” Harris replies levelly. “The component that went missing this afternoon. I doubt that you’ve forgotten.”
He’s talking about the missing reel from the Bombe. Russell discovered it this afternoon when the machine began producing strange results. We were all in the Hut when it happened and it had been in place when we sat down to work. The conclusions had been obvious to all four of us immediately, but had gone undiscussed, even after the empty socket was located, the wiring torn on either side.
“Lucky these things are easy to replace,” Russell had remarked, and that had been that. We had stopped work, sent out for a new part to be machined. And drunk our tea and watched each other.
“Come now,” Harris says, quite the reasonable gent. “As I told you. We’re not interviewing everyone. Only you. So. I think you can be a little more forthcoming.”
My anger deflates like a collapsing equation, all arguments cancelling each other out. The world, of course, owes me nothing; and I owe it everything.
“I’m afraid we have only one option, Manning,” Harris says. “Please, man. Tell us where the component is.”
“Tell Hooper I’ve confessed. In fact, better yet, let him see you march me off in handcuffs. Then let him go, and watch him. Ten to one he’ll go straight to wherever he’s hidden that component and his game will be up.”
Harris nods slowly, chewing over the idea. It isn’t a bad plan even - except, of course, Hooper has not hidden the component, and won’t lead them anywhere. But that’s a problem I might be able to solve once I’m out of this place; and once they’re busy, dogging Hooper’s steps from hut to hut.
“It’s an interesting idea,” the Commander muses. “But I’m not so sure he’ll be that stupid. And if he’s already passed the part on, well, the whole thing will only be a waste of time.”
“I don’t need twelve minutes. The component is in the long grass behind Hooper’s tent. I threw it there hoping to somehow frame him, but now I see that won’t be possible. I was naive, I suppose.”
“Indeed you were. And, Mr Manning: God help you if you’re lying to me.”
Harris stands, and slips away smartly. Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
The rest of the night passes slowly. I sleep a little, dozing mostly. Then I’m woken by the rooster in the yard. The door opens, and Harris comes in. He takes one look at the broken window and frowns with puzzlement.
“What happened there?”
“Ask not for whom the bell tolls!”
He stares back at me, as if were a madman and perhaps for a split second I see him shudder.
The Captain comes outside, pulling the door to. “What’s this?” he asks. “A confession? Just like that?”
“No,” the Commander admits, in a low voice. “I’m afraid not. Rather more a scheme. The idea is to let Hooper go and see what he does. If he believes we have Manning here in irons, he’ll try to shift the component.”
“If he has it.”
“Indeed.”
The Captain peers at me for a moment, like I was some kind of curious insect.
“Sometimes, I think you people are magicians,” he remarks. “Other times you seem more like witches. Very well.”
With that he opens the door to the Hut and goes back inside. The Commander uses the moment to hustle me roughly forward.
“And what was all that shouting about?” he hisses in my ear as we move towards the barracks. “Are you trying to pull something? Or just make me look incompetent?”
Making a wide circuit I creep around the tent. It has plenty of other flaps and openings, tied down with Gordian complexity. But nothing afford itself to slipping the component inside.
No, I am content. I suppose I do not believe they will hang me. They will lock me up and continue to use my brain, if they can. I wonder what they will tell the world - perhaps that I have taken my own life. That would be simplest. The few who know me would believe it.
Well, then. Not a bad existence, in prison. Removed from temptation. A kind of imposed monasticism, with plenty more problems to solve, and more mysteries to fathom.
I wonder what else I might yet unravel before I’m done?
The blanket. Perfect. I scoop it up off the bed and hold it in place over the window. This should do it. Then I heft my shoe by its toe, and take a strong swing, trying to imagine it’s Harris’ face on the other side.
The sound of the impact is muffled. With my arm still covered, I sweep out the remaining glass in the frame. I’m ready to escape. The only trouble is - when they look in on me in the morning, there will be no question what has happened. It won’t help me one jot with shifting suspicion off my back.
“No. I have no idea.”
He’s talking about the missing reel from the Bombe. Russell discovered it this afternoon when the machine began producing strange results. We were all in the Hut when it happened and it had been in place when we sat down to work. The conclusions had been obvious to all four of us immediately, but had gone undiscussed, even after the empty socket was located, the wiring torn on either side.
“Lucky these things are easy to replace,” Russell had remarked, and that had been that. We had stopped work, sent out for a new part to be machined. And drunk our tea and watched each other.
“Come now,” Harris says, quite the reasonable gent. “As I told you. We’re not interviewing everyone. Only you. So. I think you can be a little more forthcoming.”
“Someone threw this in through the window over night,” I reply, and open my jacket to reveal the component from the Bombe. “I couldn’t see who, it was too dark. But I know what it is.”
He reaches out and takes it. “Well, I’ll be damned,” he murmurs. “That’s it all right. And you didn’t have it on you when we put you in here. But it can’t have been Hooper - I had men watching him all night. And there’s no-one else it could have been.”
He turns the component over in his hands, bemused.
“You mean he confessed of his own accord? You didn’t catch him?”
“The Captain went back into that hut and he confessed immediately. We were so surprised we didn’t let you go.” He wrinkles his nose. “I’m rather sorry about that now, but I suppose we’ll let you go know. I suggest you have a wash.”
And with that he gestures to the doorway.
“I don’t think Hooper could have planned this in advance. So he’d need to get word to whoever he’s working with, and that would take time. So I think he would have hidden it somewhere, and be waiting to make sure I soundly take the fall. That way, if anything goes wrong, he can arrange for the part to be conveniently re-found.”
“Makes sense,” Harris agrees, cautiously. I can see he’s still not certain whether he can trust me. “Which means the question is, what can we do to rat him out?”
I put my ear down to the keyhole, but there’s nothing now. Probably still a guard outside, of course, but they’re keeping mum.
The bucket? Hardly. The bucket might do some good if I wanted to sweep up the glass afterwards, but it won’t help me smash the glass quietly.
“Well, then,” I answer, nervously. “What would he do? Either get rid of it straight away - or if that wasn’t possible, which it probably wouldn’t be, since he’d have to arrange things with his contacts - so most likely, he’d hide it somewhere and wait, until you had the rope around my neck and he could be sure he was safe.”
“Makes sense,” Harris agrees, cautiously. I can see he’s still not entirely convinced by my tale, as well he might not be - I’ve hardly been entirely straight with him. “Which means the question is, what can we do to rat him out?”
I pat down my pockets but all I’m carrying is the intercept, which is no good at all.
I put my ear down to the keyhole, but there’s nothing now. Probably still a guard outside, of course, but they’re keeping mum.
Enough of this place. Time for me to get moving. I can get to the train station on foot, catch the postal train to Scotland and be somewhere else before anyone realises that I’m gone.
Of course, then they’ll be looking for me in earnest. As a confirmed traitor.
I shift in my seat. “Not really. The boy was a simpleton, obviously. My intellectual inferior. His good opinion meant nothing to be. Harris, please do not misunderstand me. I was simply after his body.”
Harris, to his credit, doesn’t flinch. Well, perhaps not: but he’ll have nightmares of this moment tonight. I’m almost tempted to reach out and try to take his hand to worsen it for him, but I hold back.
“Go on with your confession,” he replies. I shrug.
“There’s not much else to say. I took the part from Bombe computing device. You seem to know that already. I had to. He was going to expose me if I didn’t.”
“This young man was blackmailing you over your affair?”
I have no God to make peace with. I find it difficult to believe in goodness of any kind, in a world such as this.
But I am no traitor. At least, not to my country. To my sex, perhaps. But how could I support the Reich? If it were to come to power, I would be worse off than under the already dire circumstances of my existence.
I have no place here. No way to fit. I am the intercept - caught, in the middle, cryptic and understood only thinly, through devices and machines.
“The component?”
“Yes,” Harris replies levelly. “The component that went missing this afternoon. I doubt that you’ve forgotten.”
He’s talking about the missing reel from the Bombe. Russell discovered it this afternoon when the machine began producing strange results. We were all in the Hut when it happened and it had been in place when we sat down to work. The conclusions had been obvious to all four of us immediately, but had gone undiscussed, even after the empty socket was located, the wiring torn on either side.
“Lucky these things are easy to replace,” Russell had remarked, and that had been that. We had stopped work, sent out for a new part to be machined. And drunk our tea and watched each other.
“Come now,” Harris says, quite the reasonable gent. “As I told you. We’re not interviewing everyone. Only you. So. I think you can be a little more forthcoming.”
“So would you after the night I’ve had.”
“Well, I’m afraid it is going to get worse for you,” Harris replies soberly. “We followed Hooper, and he took himself neatly to bed and slept like a boy scout. Which puts us back to square one, and you firmly in the frame. And I’m afraid I don’t have time for any more games. I want you to tell me where that component is, or we will hang you as a traitor.”
He passes a hand across his eyes with a long look of despair.
“I’m going to go outside and organise a rope. That’ll take about twelve minutes. That’s how long you have to decide.”
I slip off my jacket and hold it with one hand over the glass. This should do it. Then I heft the bucket - this really is quite a fiddly thing to be doing, and I need far longer arms, especially in cuffs - and take a strong swing, trying to imagine it’s Harris’ face on the other side.
The sound of the impact is muffled. With my arm still covered, I sweep out the remaining glass in the frame. I’m ready to escape. The only trouble is - when they look in on me in the morning, there will be no question what has happened. It won’t help me one jot with shifting suspicion off my back.
“Only that this process is unreasonable, and I believe you’re behaving like a swine.”
“You imbecile,” Harris replies, with sudden force. He is half out of his chair. “You know the situation as well as I do, so why all this fencing? The Hun are poised like rats, ready to run all over this country. They’ll destroy everything, you do understand that, don’t you? You’re not so locked up inside your crossword puzzles that you don’t see that, are you? And this machine we have here - you men - you are the best and only hope this country has. God help her.”
I sit back, startled by the force of his outburst. His carefully sculpted expression has curled to angry disgust and there is spit flecking his lips. He really does hate me, I think. He’ll have my neck just for the taste of it.
“I can imagine how being surrounded by clever men is pretty threatening for you, Commander,” I reply with a sneer. “They don’t train you to think in the Armed Forces.”
“Talk,” Harris demands. “Talk, now. Tell me where you’ve hidden it or who you’ve passed it to. Or God help me, but I’ll take your wretched pansy body to pieces looking for it, do you understand me?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
“I’m fine,” I reply. “This is all some misunderstanding and the quicker we have it cleared up the better.”
“I couldn’t agree more.” And then he comes right out with it, with an accusation. “Let’s get straight to the point. Do you have the component?” Harris demands. “Do you know where it is?”
“Or be thrown into the river.”
“Hmm.” Harris chews his moustache thoughtfully. “Well, that would put us in a spot, seeing as how we’d never know for certain. We’d have to be ready to change our whole approach just in case the part had got through to the Germans. I don’t mind telling you, this is a disaster, this whole thing. What I want is to find that little bit of mechanical trickery anywhere. I don’t care where. In your luncheon box or under Hooper’s pillow, whatever. Just somewhere, and within the grounds of this place.”
I say nothing, my lips tightly, firmly sealed. It’s true I am a traitor, to the very laws of nature. The world has taught me that since a very early age. But not to my country - should the Reich win this war, I would hardly be treated as an honoured hero. I was doomed from the very start.
I explain none of this. How could a man like Harris understand?
The Commander takes one look back from the doorway as he pulls it to.
“It’s been a pleasure working with you, Mr Manning,” he declares. “You’ve done a great service to this country. If we come through, I’m sure they’ll remember you name. I’m sorry it had to end this way and I’ll do my best to keep it quiet. No-one need know what you did.”
Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
With my jacket wrapped round my arm, I sweep out the remaining shards of glass. It’s not a big window, but I’m not a big man. If I was Harris, I’d be stuffed, but as it is...
Then the door locks turns. The door opens. Then Jeremy - one of the guards, rather - sticks his head through the door. “I thought I heard...”
He stops. Looks for a moment. Sees the bucket in my hand. Then without a moment’s further thought he blows his shrill whistles and hustles into the hut, grabbing me roughly by my arms.
I’m hustled into one of the huts. Nowhere to sleep, but they’re not interested in my comfort any longer. Harris comes in with the Captain.
“So,” Harris remarks. “Looks like your little trap worked. Only it worked to show you out for what you are.”
I go over to the window and try to jimmy it open. Not much luck, but in my struggling I notice this window only backs on the thin little brook that runs down the back of the compound. Which means, if I smashed it, I might get away with no-one seeing.
The bucket? Hardly. The bucket might do some good if I wanted to sweep up the glass afterwards, but it won’t help me smash the glass quietly.
“I had to get out, Harris. I had to provoke Hooper into doing something that would incriminate himself fully. He’s too clever, you see...”
“Be quiet, man. We know all about your and your sordid affairs.” The Captain curls his lip. “Don’t you know there’s a war on? Do you know the kind of place they would have sent you if it haven’t had been for that brain of yours? Don’t you think you owe it to your country to use it a little more?”
Do I, I wonder? Do I owe this country anything, this country that has spurned who and what am I since the day I became a man?
“No. I have no idea.”
He’s talking about the missing reel from the Bombe. Russell discovered it this afternoon when the machine began producing strange results. We were all in the Hut when it happened and it had been in place when we sat down to work. The conclusions had been obvious to all four of us immediately, but had gone undiscussed, even after the empty socket was located, the wiring torn on either side.
“Lucky these things are easy to replace,” Russell had remarked, and that had been that. We had stopped work, sent out for a new part to be machined. And drunk our tea and watched each other.
“Come now,” Harris says, quite the reasonable gent. “As I told you. We’re not interviewing everyone. Only you. So. I think you can be a little more forthcoming.”
I say nothing, my lips tightly, firmly sealed. It’s true I am a traitor, to the very laws of nature. The world has taught me that since a very early age. But not to my country - should the Reich win this war, I would hardly be treated as an honoured hero. I was doomed from the very start.
I explain none of this. How could a man like Harris understand?
The Commander takes one look back from the doorway as he pulls it to.
“It’s been a pleasure working with you, Mr Manning,” he declares. “You’ve done a great service to this country. If we come through, I’m sure they’ll remember you name. I’m sorry it had to end this way and I’ll do my best to keep it quiet. No-one need know what you did.”
Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
“No. Not for more than a moment, of course. Everyone here is marked out by how little we would be willing to say about it.”
“Only you told this young man more than a little, didn’t you?”
I nod. “He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
“I certainly don’t. But still, I’m surprised. I had Hooper down for a full-blown double agent, a traitor. He knows he’ll face the rope, doesn’t he?”
“Don’t ask me to explain why he did what he did,” Harris sighs. “Just be grateful that he did, and you’re now off the hook.”
Curiouser and curiouser. I nod once to Harris and slip outside into the cold morning air.
Hooper’s confession only makes sense in one way - and that’s that he believed me, and reasoned that he would be followed. So to try and uncover the component would have got him arrest, to confess was just the same. He simply caved, and threw in his hand.
Of course, however, there is only one way to be certain that Harris is telling the truth, and that is to find a quiet moment and check the breeze-block at the back of Hut 2.
I suppose I do not believe they will hang me. They will lock me up and continue to use my brain, if they can. I wonder what they will tell the world - perhaps that I have taken my own life. That would be simplest. The few who know me would believe it.
Well, then. Not a bad existence, in prison. Removed from temptation. A kind of imposed monasticism, with plenty more problems to solve, and more mysteries to fathom.
I wonder what else I might yet unravel before I’m done?
But too important to guess. I move back around the side of the hut.
Harris is there, leaning in against the wall. He holds a stub pistol in his hand.
“Queen to rook two,” he declares. “I wouldn’t have fathomed it but Hooper did. Explained it right after we sprung him doing what you’re doing now. We weren’t sure what to believe but now, you seem to have resolved that for us.”
“I always meant to tell you,” I tell him. “I thought perhaps I could find out who they were. Lead you to them.”
Harris looks at me with contempt. “You wretched little man. Don’t think your tongue will be able to get you out of trouble. You’re going to pay for what you’ve done, and you’re going to pay dearly. If a single man loses his life because of your pride and your perversions then God help your eternal soul. The fact is you committed a crime.” If I had any sense that he understood my predicament, and that he felt for my state of being, it collapses like a chain with a broken link. “You thought you could repair it with another, more serious crime?” He shakes his head. “I thought you men were supposed to be clever. But this is the action of a frightened woman. So I’d like you to tell me, now. Where is it?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
“Only that this process is unreasonable, and I believe you’re behaving like a swine.”
“You imbecile,” Harris replies, with sudden force. He is half out of his chair. “You know the situation as well as I do, so why all this fencing? The Hun are poised like rats, ready to run all over this country. They’ll destroy everything, you do understand that, don’t you? You’re not so locked up inside your crossword puzzles that you don’t see that, are you? And this machine we have here - you men - you are the best and only hope this country has. God help her.”
I sit back, startled by the force of his outburst. His carefully sculpted expression has curled to angry disgust and there is spit flecking his lips. He really does hate me, I think. He’ll have my neck just for the taste of it.
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Hooper’s been taken away. They caught him, uncovering that missing Bombe component from a hiding place somewhere, apparently about to take it to his contact.” Russell harrumphs. “Quince was saying this morning, apparently his grandfather was German. So perhaps it’s to be expected. See you there?”
I wave to him and move away, my thoughts turning to the young man in the village. My lover. My contact. My blackmailer. Hooper may have taken the fall for the missing component, but if it was his recovering it from Hut 2 then I have nothing to sell to save my reputation, if I have any left.
If he didn’t, of course, and Harris was telling the truth about his sudden confession, then I will be able to buy my freedom once and for all.
It’s no good. That’s only half a solution. I couldn’t be happy with that.
“I’m sure I saw him this evening, talking to someone by the fence on the woodland side of the compound. He’s probably passed it on already. You’ll have to ask him.”
Harris harrumphs. He’s thinking it all over.
“I don’t know.”
“You can do better than that. Remember, there’s a hangman’s noose waiting for traitors.”
Enough of this place. Time for me to get moving. I can get to the train station on foot, catch the postal train to Scotland and be somewhere else before anyone realises that I’m gone.
Of course, then they’ll be looking for me in earnest. As a confirmed traitor.
I hang back a moment. Something does not seem quite right. After all, Hooper did not steal the component. He has no reason to confess to anything. Perhaps this is another trap?
“Well?” Harris asks. “What are you waiting for? Please don’t tell me you want to confess now as well, I don’t think my head could stand it.”
“So he’s an idiot, and he hid it in his shoe.”
“No,” Harris replies. “That isn’t really what I mean. I mean, he managed to find it, by accident, somewhere where it wasn’t the night before. And at the same time, you’re sitting here with your window broken. So, I rather think you’ve played your last hand and lost. There’s no way Hooper stole that component and then just left it lying around in the doorway of his tent. No way at all. So I came to tell you that the game is up for you.”
He nods and gets to his feet. Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
“I was quite certain, after a while. After we’d been talking. He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
“Well, then,” I answer, nervously. “What would he do? Either get rid of it straight away - or if that wasn’t possible, which it probably wouldn’t be, since he’d have to arrange things with his contacts - so most likely, he’d hide it somewhere and wait, until you had the rope around my neck and he could be sure he was safe.”
“Makes sense,” Harris agrees, cautiously. I can see he’s still not entirely convinced by my tale, as well he might not be - I’ve hardly been entirely straight with him. “Which means the question is, what can we do to rat him out?”
“So would you after the night I’ve had.”
“Well, I’m afraid it is going to get worse for you,” Harris replies soberly. “We followed Hooper, and he took himself neatly to bed and slept like a boy scout. Which puts us back to square one, and you firmly in the frame. And I’m afraid I don’t have time for any more games. I want you to tell me where that component is, or we will hang you as a traitor.”
He passes a hand across his eyes with a long look of despair.
“I’m going to go outside and organise a rope. That’ll take about twelve minutes. That’s how long you have to decide.”
I wait a few minutes, to be sure Hooper and the Captain will have gone, then try the door. It’s locked, all right. I’m not really one for picking locks. Never tried it. I don’t think I’ll be getting out that way.
I go over to the window and try to jimmy it open. Not much luck, but in my struggling I notice this window only backs on the thin little brook that runs down the back of the compound. Which means, if I smashed it, I might get away with no-one seeing.
From outside, I hear a voice. Hooper’s. He’s haranguing someone, for something.
“At the moment when the machine halted, Peterson and Jefferies were by the work-table, Collins and Humph were out having a smoke. I was by the front of the machine checking over the dip-switches. Hooper was the only one around the back of the Bombe. No-one else could have done it.”
“That’s not quite the same as seeing him do it,” Harris remarks.
“I did.”
I have become, somehow, an accustomed liar - the words roll easily off my tongue. Perhaps I am a traitor, I think, now that I dissemble as easily as one.
“Go on,” Harris says, giving me no indication of whether he believes my tale.
The bucket? Hardly. The bucket might do some good if I wanted to sweep up the glass afterwards, but it won’t help me smash the glass quietly.
“You’re right.” I shake my head. “You’re right. I don’t see how I can help you after all. So, there’s only one conclusion.”
“Oh, yes? And what’s that?”
“It’s your problem. Your security breach. So much for your careful vetting process.” I lean back in my chair and fold my arms so the way they shake will not be visible. “You’d better get on with solving it, instead of wasting your time in here with me.”
Harris harrumphs. He’s thinking it all over.
I wait a few minutes, to be sure the Commander will have gone, then try the door. It’s locked, all right. I’m not really one for picking locks. Never tried it. I don’t think I’ll be getting out that way.
From outside, I hear a voice. Hooper’s. He’s haranguing someone, for something.
I put my ear down to the keyhole, but there’s nothing now. Probably still a guard outside, of course, but they’re keeping mum.
“Here at Bletchley? Of course I do...”
“Here, now,” Harris replies firmly. “We’re not talking to everyone, you understand. I can imagine you might feel pretty sore about that, old man. I can imagine you feeling picked on. You always were a sensitive soul.”
“Yes. Something like that. It’s a very lonely life otherwise. And the work we do - well. It only makes it worse. There’s barely a moment to oneself.”
“That’s how it is in the Service,” Harris answers. “I know you didn’t sign up for it but, well. There’s plenty of other men who didn’t who are serving now, too. Now, go on with your confession.”
That gives me pause, for a moment. I hadn’t thought of it as such. But I suppose that’s what this is. I am about to admit what I did, after all.
“There’s not much else to say. I took the part from Bombe computing device. You seem to know that already. I had to. He was going to expose me if I didn’t.”
“This young man was blackmailing you over your affair?”
“We’re still in ear-shot if they let Hooper go. Best get us inside and then we can talk, if we must.”
“I’ve had enough of your voice for one day,” Harris replies grimly. He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
I go over to the window and try to jimmy it open. Not much luck, but in my struggling I notice this window only backs on the thin little brook that runs down the back of the compound. Which means, if I smashed it, I might get away with no-one seeing.
“Of my genius. Hooper simply can’t stand that I’m cleverer than he is. We work so closely together, cooped up in that Hut all day. It drives him to distraction. To worse.”
“You’re suggesting Hooper would sabotage this country’s future simply to spite you?” Harris chooses his words like the military man he is, each lining up to create a ring around me.
I hang back a moment. Something does not seem quite right. After all, Hooper did not steal the component. He has no reason to confess to anything. Perhaps this is another trap?
“Well?” Harris asks. “What are you waiting for? Please don’t tell me you want to confess now as well, I don’t think my head could stand it.”
“Yes, I considered it. He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
“I certainly don’t. But still, I’m surprised. I had Hooper down for a full-blown double agent, a traitor. He knows he’ll face the rope, doesn’t he?”
“Don’t ask me to explain why he did what he did,” Harris sighs. “Just be grateful that he did, and you’re now off the hook.”
Curiouser and curiouser. I nod once to Harris and slip outside into the cold morning air.
Hooper’s confession only makes sense in one way - and that’s that he believed me, and reasoned that he would be followed. So to try and uncover the component would have got him arrest, to confess was just the same. He simply caved, and threw in his hand.
Of course, however, there is only one way to be certain that Harris is telling the truth, and that is to find a quiet moment and check the breeze-block at the back of Hut 2.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Hooper’s been taken away. They caught him, uncovering that missing Bombe component from a hiding place somewhere, apparently about to take it to his contact.” Russell harrumphs. “Quince was saying this morning, apparently his grandfather was German. So perhaps it’s to be expected. See you there?”
I wave to him and move away, my thoughts turning to the young man in the village. My lover. My contact. My blackmailer. Hooper may have taken the fall for the missing component, but its recovery does mean I have nothing to sell to save my reputation, if I have any left.
The bunk has a solid metal frame, a blanket, a pillow, nothing more.
“No. Not for more than a moment, of course. Everyone here is marked out by how little we would be willing to say about it.”
“Only you told this young man more than a little, didn’t you?”
I nod. “He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
“I’m not saying anything of the sort,” I snap back. “What is this, Harris? You’re accusing me of treachery but I don’t see a shred of evidence for it! Why don’t you put your cards on the table?”
“It’s simple enough,” Harris replies. “I’ve seen the same story a hundred times before,” he says. “A young man like yourself - clever, somewhat removed from the world. The kind that doesn’t go to parties, you might say. Who takes himself a little too seriously, perhaps. Takes things too far. Further than a man should allow a thing to go. That’s the story, isn’t it? You took things too far, and then you couldn’t take them back. And now they have you.”
“Then let him think he’s off the hook. Make a show of me. And then you’ll get your man.”
Somehow, I think. But that’s the part I need to work.
Harris gets to his feet. “All right,” he says. “I should no better than to trust a clever man, but we’ll give it a go.” Then, he smiles, with all his teeth, like a wolf. “Hooper’s in Hut 3 being debriefed by the Captain. Let’s see if we can’t get his attention somehow.”
He raps on the door for the guard and gives the man a quick instruction. He returns a moment later with a cool pair of iron cuffs.
“Put ‘em up,” Harris instructs, and I do so. The metal closes around my wrists like a trap. I stand and follow Harris willingly out through the door.
But whatever I’m doing with my body, my mind is scheming. Somehow, I’m thinking, I have to get away from these men long enough to get that component behind Hut 2 and put it somewhere Hooper will go. Or, otherwise, somehow get Hooper to go there himself...
Harris marches me over to Hut 3, and gestures for the guard to stand aside. Pushing me forward, he opens the door nice and wide.
“Captain. Manning talked. If you’d step out for a moment?”
“I still have it. Not on me, of course. The missing component of the Bombe computer is hidden in a small cavity in a breeze-block supporting the left rear post of Hut 2. I put in there anticipating a search. I intended to dispose of it once the fuss had died down. I suppose I was foolish to think that it might.”
“Indeed you were. And, Mr Manning: God help you if you’re lying to me.”
Harris stands, and slips away smartly. Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
“I suppose so,” I reply. “I’ve certainly done things I regret. Things I shouldn’t have done.”
“I see,” Harris answers. “You’ve left yourself open. To pressure. Is that what you’re saying?”
“I’m sure I saw him this evening, talking to someone by the fence on the woodland side of the compound. He’s probably passed it on already. You’ll have to ask him.”
Harris harrumphs. He’s thinking it all over.
“Hooper, I’ll make a deal with you. We both know what happened in that hut this afternoon. I know because I did it, and you know because you know you didn’t. But once this is done I’ll be rich, and I’ll split that with you. I’ll let you have the results, too. Your name on the discovery of the Bombe. And it won’t hurt the war effort - you know as well as me that the component on its own is worthless, it’s the wiring of the Bombe, the usage, that’s what’s valuable. So how about it?”
Hooper looks back at me, appalled. “You’re asking me to commit treason?”
“The component?”
“Yes,” Harris replies levelly. “The component that went missing this afternoon. I doubt that you’ve forgotten.”
He’s talking about the missing reel from the Bombe. Russell discovered it this afternoon when the machine began producing strange results. We were all in the Hut when it happened and it had been in place when we sat down to work. The conclusions had been obvious to all four of us immediately, but had gone undiscussed, even after the empty socket was located, the wiring torn on either side.
“Lucky these things are easy to replace,” Russell had remarked, and that had been that. We had stopped work, sent out for a new part to be machined. And drunk our tea and watched each other.
“Come now,” Harris says, quite the reasonable gent. “As I told you. We’re not interviewing everyone. Only you. So. I think you can be a little more forthcoming.”
“I suppose so,” I reply. “I’ve certainly done things I regret. Things I shouldn’t have done.”
“I see,” Harris answers. “You’ve left yourself open. To pressure. Is that what you’re saying?”
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
From where he’s sitting, I know Hooper can see me, so I keep my head down and look guilty as sin. The bastard is probably smiling.
The Captain comes outside, pulling the door to. “What’s this?” he asks. “A confession? Just like that?”
“No,” the Commander admits, in a low voice. “I’m afraid not. Rather more a scheme. The idea is to let Hooper go and see what he does. If he believes we have Manning here in irons, he’ll try to shift the component.”
“If he has it.”
“Indeed.”
The Captain peers at me for a moment, like I was some kind of curious insect.
“Sometimes, I think you people are magicians,” he remarks. “Other times you seem more like witches. Very well.”
With that he opens the door to the Hut and goes back inside. The Commander uses the moment to hustle me roughly forward.
“This scheme of yours had better come off,” he hisses in my ear. “Otherwise the Captain is going to start having men tailing me to see where I go on Saturdays.”
Morning comes. I’m woken by a rooster calling from the yard behind the House. I must have slept after all. I pull myself up from the bunk, shivering slightly. There is condensation on the inside of the window. I have probably given myself a chill.
The door handle turns and without knocking, Harris comes inside. “You’re up,” he remarks, and then, “You smell like an animal.”
The bucket? Hardly. The bucket might do some good if I wanted to sweep up the glass afterwards, but it won’t help me smash the glass quietly.
“Yes, I considered it. He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
I suppose my fist would do a good enough job. But I’d cut myself to ribbons, most likely. And the noise would be terrible. There must be a way of making this easier. I’m supposed to be a thief now. What would a burglar do?
“We’re still in ear-shot if they let Hooper go. Best get us inside and then we can talk, if we must.”
“I’ve had enough of your voice for one day,” Harris replies grimly. He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. I can only hope that Hooper bites on my baited hook. If he thinks I’m mad and bitter enough to have framed him somehow, and arrogant enough to have taunted him with a clue to where the damning evidence is hidden... if he hates me enough, and is paranoid enough, then he might unravel my little riddle and go searching around Hut 2.
Thinking back, I should have wrapped the part from the Bombe in one of his shirts before hiding it, that would have been a clever move. I really do make a terrible spy.
“I don’t know what gives you the right to pick on me. Shouldn’t I have a lawyer?”
“This is time of war,” Harris answers. His tone of voice has fallen down into darkness. “And by God, if I have to shoot you to recover the component or stop it falling into the wrong hands, I will, do you understand me?”
There’s an icy silence. He’s angry. He waves an impetuous hand across the field table.
“Now, drink your tea and talk.”
“I can’t remember.”
He draws his gun and lays it lightly on the field table.
“I’m sorry to threaten you, friend. But His Majesty needs that brain of yours, and that brain alone. There are plenty of other parts to you that our country could do better without. Now I’ll ask you again. Did you hide the component?”
Morning comes with the call of a rooster from the yard of the House. I must have slept after all. I pull myself up off the bunk, shivering slightly. There is condensation on the inside of the window. I have probably given myself a chill.
It’s not long after that Harris enters the hut. He closes the door behind him, careful as ever, then takes a chair across from me.
“You smell like a dog,” he remarks.
“And the other men? Do we have a hut each? Surely there aren’t enough senior officers to go round.”
“Collins and Humph were outside when the theft occurred. Everyone confirms that,” Harris replies. “That leaves you, Hooper, and the other two, who vouch for each other and frankly I’m inclined to believe them. But that’s all we know. No-one here is in the business of guessing, you know that. Our business is to decode. To get to the bottom of whatever’s going on. You’ve not placed yourself beyond suspicion and until you do so...” Harris shrugs. “I’m afraid I have fewer and fewer choices as time goes on. If that component has left these grounds then every minute is critical.”
I put my ear down to the keyhole, but there’s nothing now. Probably still a guard outside, of course, but they’re keeping mum.
“No. It’s not treason. It’s a trade, plain and simple.”
“If you think I’ll do that then you’re crazy,” Hooper replies.
At that moment the door flies open and the Captain comes storming back inside.
Harris hustles me over to the barracks. “I hope that’s the end of it,” he mutters as he pushes me up the steps.
“Just be sure to let him out,” I reply. “And then see where he goes.”
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
It’s no good. Nothing I can do will be any less than obvious - something appearing where something was not there before. The men watching Hooper will know it is a deception and Hooper’s protestations will be taken at face value.
If I can’t find a way for Hooper to pick the component up, as if from a hiding place of his own devising, and be caught doing it, then I have no plan at all.
“I’ve thought so before.”
“Let me tell you what happened this morning. Our men watching Hooper’s tent saw Hooper wake up, get dressed, clamber out of his tent and then remark with surprise as, while looking for his shoes, he stumbled on something just at the entrance of his tent.”
I go over to the window and try to jimmy it open. Not much luck, but in my struggling I notice this window only backs on the thin little brook that runs down the back of the compound. Which means, if I smashed it, I might get away with no-one seeing.
“I still have it. Not on me, of course. The missing component of the Bombe computer is hidden in a small cavity in a breeze-block supporting the left rear post of Hut 2. I put in there anticipating a search. I intended to dispose of it once the fuss had died down. I suppose I was foolish to think that it might.”
“Indeed you were. And, Mr Manning: God help you if you’re lying to me.”
Harris stands, and slips away smartly. Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
There’s no time to lose. Throwing caution to the wind I make my way quickly to Hut 2, and around the back. I don’t think I’ve been followed, or seen but if I have, it’s too late. My actions are suspicious enough for anyone’s noose. I have no choice but to follow through.
The component is still there, wrapped in a tea-towel and shoved into a cavity in a breeze-block at the base of the Hut wall.
I slide the component into the tent, work the zip closed, and move quickly away into the shadows. It takes a few minutes for my breath to slow, and my heart to stop hammering, but I see no other movement. If anyone is watching Hooper’s tent, they are asleep at their posts.
Satisfied, I return the short way up the paths between the huts to the barrack block and the broken window.
It’s a little harder getting back through - the window is higher off the ground than the floor inside - but after a decent bit of jumping and hauling I manage to get my elbows up, and then one leg, and finally I collapse inside, quite winded and out breath.
I cast around the small room. There’s a bucket in one corner for emergencies - I suppose I could use that. I pick it up but it’s not very easy to heft. And the noise would be terrible. There must be a way of making this easier. I’m supposed to be a thief now. What would a burglar do?
Work carefully? It’s difficult to work carefully when all one’s has is nothing but brute force.
That is Harris returning. Our little computation here is complete.
That is the true secret of the calculating engine, and the source of its power: not in the components themselves, but in how they are wired together. The diversity of patterns and structures they can form. Much like people - it is how they connect that determines our victories and tragedies, and not their genius.
Which makes me wonder. Should I give up my beautiful young man to them as well as myself?
“I know nothing about it.” My voice is shaking with anger as I try to speak. I’m not accustomed to facing off against the Commander - against any man with a gun in his holster. “I don’t know what gives you the right to pick on me. I demand a lawyer.”
“This is time of war,” Harris answers. His tone of voice has fallen down into darkness. “And by God, if I have to shoot you to recover the component or stop it falling into the wrong hands, I will, do you understand me?”
There’s an icy silence. He’s angry at my slippery answers. He waves an impetuous hand across the field table.
“Now, drink your tea and talk.”
“Very well then.” I swallow nervously, to make it look more genuine. “No. I passed it on to Hooper.”
“I see. And what did he do with it?”
“Yes. Something like that. It’s a very lonely life otherwise. And the work we do - well. It only makes it worse. There’s barely a moment to oneself.”
“That’s how it is in the Service,” Harris answers. “I know you didn’t sign up for it but, well. There’s plenty of other men who didn’t who are serving now, too. Now, go on with your confession.”
That gives me pause, for a moment. I hadn’t thought of it as such. But I suppose that’s what this is. I am about to admit what I did, after all.
“There’s not much else to say. I took the part from Bombe computing device. You seem to know that already. I had to. He was going to expose me if I didn’t.”
“This young man was blackmailing you over your affair?”
Quickly, I pull it free, and slip it into the pocket of my jacket.
Where now?
If I leave the component here somewhere it should be somewhere I can rely on Hooper finding it, but no-one before Hooper. In particular.
“If you’ll excuse me, Russell. I was about to take a bath.”
“Oh, of course. Well, you’ll hear soon enough. Can hardly hide the fact there’ll only be three of us from now on.”
I wave to him and move away, my thoughts turning to the young man in the village. My lover. My contact. My blackmailer. Hooper may have taken the fall for the missing component, but if it was his recovering it from Hut 2 then I have nothing to sell to save my reputation, if I have any left.
If he didn’t, of course, and Harris was telling the truth about his sudden confession, then I will be able to buy my freedom once and for all.
“Damn right I’m sore. Was it one of the others who put you up to this? Was it Hooper? He’s always been jealous of me. He’s...”
The Commander moustache bristles as he purses his lips. “Has he now? Of your achievements, do you think?” It’s difficult not to shake the sense that he’s mocking me. “Or of your brain? Or something else?”
“Try me. Just me and him.”
“Alone?”
“Alone.”
Harris considers it. I watch his eyes, flicking backwards and forwards over mine, like a ribbon-reader trying to load in its program.
I wait a few minutes, to be sure Hooper and the Captain will have gone, then try the door. It’s locked, all right. I’m not really one for picking locks. Never tried it. I don’t think I’ll be getting out that way.
“I know where it is.”
Harris smiles with satisfaction, as if your willingness to talk was somehow a result of his clever techniques.
“I see.” There’s a long pause, like the endless delay between feeding in a line of cypher to the Bombe and waiting for its valves and cylinders to heat up enough to being processing. “Would you like to explain?”
So perhaps I should wait it out, after all. Who knows? I might have a better opportunity later.
The rest of the night passes slowly. I sleep a little, dozing mostly. Then I’m woken by the rooster in the yard. The door opens, and Harris comes in. He takes one look at the broken window and frowns with puzzlement.
“What happened there?”
“I’m not trying to do anything except save my neck.”
“Let’s hope things work out,” Harris agrees darkly.
He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. I can only hope that Hooper bites on my baited hook. If he thinks I’m mad and bitter enough to have framed him somehow, and arrogant enough to have taunted him with a clue to where the damning evidence is hidden... if he hates me enough, and is paranoid enough, then he might unravel my little riddle and go searching around Hut 2.
Thinking back, I should have wrapped the part from the Bombe in one of his shirts before hiding it, that would have been a clever move. I really do make a terrible spy.
I slip off my jacket and hold it with one hand over the glass. This should do it. Then I heft my shoe by its toe, and take a strong swing, trying to imagine it’s Harris’ face on the other side.
The sound of the impact is muffled. With my arm still covered, I sweep out the remaining glass in the frame. I’m ready to escape. The only trouble is - when they look in on me in the morning, there will be no question what has happened. It won’t help me one jot with shifting suspicion off my back.
“I broke it,” I reply. There doesn’t seem any use in trying to lie. “I thought I could escape. But I couldn’t get myself through.”
The Commander laughs. “Shame,” he remarks. “I should have left that window open and put a guard on you. Might have been interesting to see where you went. Anyway, I’m glad you’re still here, even if you do smell like a dog.”
There is nothing to be gained here. I have the component now; maybe it will be of some value tomorrow.
“I climbed out of the window overnight,” I explain. “I went and got this from where it was hidden, and brought it back here.”
“This is all too far-fetched,” Harris says. “I’m glad to have this back, but I need to think.”
Getting to his feet, he nods once. “You’ll have to wait a little longer, I’m afraid, Manning.”
Then he steps out of the door, muttering to himself.
The bunk has a solid metal frame, a blanket, a pillow, nothing more.
“I suppose so,” I reply. “I’ve certainly done things I regret. Things I shouldn’t have done.”
“I see,” Harris answers. “You’ve left yourself open. To pressure. Is that what you’re saying?”
No, I am content. I suppose I do not believe they will hang me. They will lock me up and continue to use my brain, if they can. I wonder what they will tell the world - perhaps that I have taken my own life. That would be simplest. The few who know me would believe it.
Well, then. Not a bad existence, in prison. Removed from temptation. A kind of imposed monasticism, with plenty more problems to solve, and more mysteries to fathom.
I wonder what else I might yet unravel before I’m done?
“Ask the others,” I reply, leaning back. “They’ll tell you. If they haven’t already, that’s only because they’re protecting Hooper. Hoping he’ll come to his senses and stop being an idiot. I hope he does too. And if you lock him up in a freezing hut like you’ve done me, I’m sure he will.”
“We have,” Harris replies simply.
It’s all I can do not to gape.
“Hooper’s in Hut 3 with the Captain, having a similar conversation.”
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
I nod. “I don’t need twelve minutes. The missing component of the Bombe computer is hidden in a small cavity in a breeze-block supporting the left rear post of Hut 2. I put in there anticipating a search. I intended to pass it to Hooper once the fuss had died down. I suppose I was foolish to think that it might.”
“Indeed you were. And, Mr Manning: God help you if you’re lying to me.”
Harris stands, and slips away smartly. Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
“Yes. I didn’t have long, but I had long enough. The missing component of the Bombe computer is hidden in a small cavity in a breeze-block supporting the left rear post of Hut 2. I put in there anticipating a search. I intended to pass it to Hooper once the fuss had died down. I suppose I was foolish to think that it might.”
“Indeed you were. And, Mr Manning: God help you if you’re lying to me.”
Harris stands, and slips away smartly. Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
I shake my head violently, to say no, that’s not it, but whatever is wrong with tongue is wrong with neck too. I look across at the table at Harris’ face and realise with a start how sympathetic he is. Such a kind, generous man. How can I hold anything back from him?
I take another mouthful of the bitter, strange-tasting tea before answering.
“That’s exactly it,” I say quietly. “Harris. You understand. There are some things... which can get a man into a lot of trouble. Things one shouldn’t do.”
Harris, to his credit, doesn’t stiffen. He doesn’t lean away, or remove his hands from the table-top as though my condition might be infectious. I thought they trained them in the army to shoot my kind on sight but he does not.
Of course, he does not offer any sympathy either. He only nods, once. The understanding that has passed between us here is a mere turning cog in his calculations, with no meaning or righteousness to it.
“I’ve seen the same story a hundred times before,” he says. “A young man like yourself - clever, somewhat removed from the world. The kind that doesn’t go to parties, you might say. Who takes himself a little too seriously, perhaps. Takes things too far. Further than a man should allow a thing to go. That’s the story, isn’t it? You took things too far, and then you couldn’t take them back. And now they have you.”
After a chance like this? A chance - however real - to save my neck? To hand it over - what, to save Hooper’s worthless skin?
I wait a few minutes, to be sure Hooper and the Captain will have gone, then try the door. It’s locked, all right. I’m not really one for picking locks. Never tried it. I don’t think I’ll be getting out that way.
I go over to the window and try to jimmy it open. Not much luck, but in my struggling I notice this window only backs on the thin little brook that runs down the back of the compound. Which means, if I smashed it, I might get away with no-one seeing.
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
“You mean he didn’t even hide it? Just put it in his shoe?”
“No,” Harris replies. “That isn’t really what I mean. I mean, he managed to find it, by accident, somewhere where it wasn’t the night before. And at the same time, you’re sitting here with your window broken. So, I rather think you’ve played your last hand and lost. There’s no way Hooper stole that component and then just left it lying around in the doorway of his tent. No way at all. So I came to tell you that the game is up for you.”
He nods and gets to his feet. Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
“It’s not that bad. I can still fix it.”
Harris shakes his head. “This isn’t a problem to be cracked. This isn’t a puzzle. I’m sorry, but this is bigger than you now. Look. You can go to prison for what you’ve done, or we can change your identity and move you somewhere where your... indiscretions... can’t hurt anyone any more. But right now none of that matters. What happens to you, doesn’t matter. All that matters is where that component is. So I’d like you to tell me, now. Where is it?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
In case I’m being followed, I divert around the perimeter of the compound. It’s a much longer path, and it takes me across some terrain that’s difficult to negotiate in the dark - muddy, and thick with thistles and nestles.
Still, I can be confident no-one is following, as I hear nothing. I crouch down behind the rear wall of Hut 2. The component is still there, wrapped in a tea-towel and shoved into a cavity in a breeze-block at the base of the Hut wall.
“I was quite certain, after a while. After we’d been talking. He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
There is nothing I can do to speed up time. The night draws on at its own pace. I suppose by morning I will know my fate.
“I broke it,” I reply. There doesn’t seem any use in trying to lie. “I thought I could escape. But I couldn’t get myself through.”
The Commander laughs. “Shame,” he remarks. “I should have left that window open and put a guard on you. Might have been interesting to see where you went. Anyway, I’m glad you’re still here, even if you do smell like a dog.”
“You want me to tell you what happened? You’ll be disgusted, I’m quite sure.”
“I can imagine how it starts,” he growls.
“There was a young man, Harris. I met him in the town. A few months ago now. We got to talking - not about work. I said I was an accountant for a firm, just as I was supposed to. Although he seemed to know that wasn’t true. That got me wondering if he wasn’t one of us.”
Harris is not letting me off any more. “You seriously considered that possibility?”
It’s useless. There’s nothing I can do but hope. I sit down on one corner of the bunk to wait.
Night falls. The clockwork of the heavens keeps turning, whatever state I might be in. No-one can steal the components that make the sun go down and the stars come out. I watch it performing its operations. I can’t sleep.
“No. Not for more than a moment, of course. Everyone here is marked out by how little we would be willing to say about it.”
“Only you told this young man more than a little, didn’t you?”
I nod. “He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
Ah, but of course! I slip off one shoe and heft it by the toe. The heel will make a decent enough hammer, if I give it enough wallop.
But I’ll cut my hand to ribbons doing it. And the noise would be terrible. There must be a way of making this easier. I’m supposed to be a thief now. What would a burglar do?
I open my mouth to disagree, but somehow the words will not come out. It is like Harris has taken a screwdriver to the sides of my jaw. My tongue feels thick and heavy.
“I suppose so,” I reply. “I’ve certainly done things I regret. Things I shouldn’t have done.”
“I see,” Harris answers. “You’ve left yourself open. To pressure. Is that what you’re saying?”
“Damn right I’m sore. Was it one of the others who put you up to this? Was it Hooper? He’s always been jealous of me. He’s...”
The Commander moustache bristles as he purses his lips. “Has he now? Of your achievements, do you think?” It’s difficult not to shake the sense that he’s humouring me.
“Or of your brain? Or something else?”
“Yes. I suppose he was their agent. I should have realised but I didn’t. Then he threatened to tell you. I thought you would have me locked up: I couldn’t bear the thought of it. I love working here. I’ve never been so happy, so successful, anywhere before. I didn’t want to lose it.”
“So what did you do with the component?” Harris talks urgently. He grips his gloves tightly in one hand, perhaps prepared to lift them and strike if it is required. “Have you passed it to this man already? Have you left it somewhere for him to find?”
“Quite terrible. I would never have guessed.”
“Well.” Russell harrumphs. “Quince was saying this morning, apparently his grandfather was German. So perhaps it’s to be expected. See you there?”
I wave to him and move away, my thoughts turning to the young man in the village. My lover. My contact. My blackmailer. Hooper may have taken the fall for the missing component, but its recovery does mean I have nothing to sell to save my reputation.
I pat down my pockets but all I’m carrying is the intercept, which is no good at all.
“Try me. Just me and him.”
“Alone?”
“Alone.”
Harris considers it. I watch his eyes, flicking backwards and forwards over mine, like a ribbon-reader trying to load in its program.
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
“I’d be happy to help,” I answer, sympathetically, leaning forward across the table. “I’m sure there’s something I could do.”
“Like what, exactly?”
“Quite right,” I answer smartly.
He stares back at me. “Let’s get straight to the point. Do you have the component?” Harris demands. “Do you know where it is?”
I pat down my pockets but all I’m carrying is the intercept, which is no good at all.
Let me see. There’s the bunk, a bucket, nothing else. I have my jacket but nothing in the pockets - no handkerchief, for instance.
“Just adding to the drama,” I tell him, confidently. “I’m sure you can understand that.”
“I think we’ve had enough drama today already,” Harris replies. “Let’s hope for a clean kill.”
He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
“An accident, naturally.” I risk a smile. “That damned machine, Harris; it’s made from spare parts and string. Even these huts leak when it rains. It wouldn’t take more than one fellow to trip over a cable to shake out a component and have it roll away across the floor. Have you tried looking under the thing?”
Harris doesn’t smile. “Do you suppose we haven’t? Do you supposed we haven’t combed every inch of this place already?”
In a sudden moment I understand that his reply is a threat.
“Now,” he continues. “Are you sure there isn’t anything you want to tell me?”
I let him have his rant. He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. I can only hope that Hooper bites on my baited hook. If he thinks I’m mad and bitter enough to have framed him somehow, and arrogant enough to have taunted him with a clue to where the damning evidence is hidden... if he hates me enough, and is paranoid enough, then he might unravel my little riddle and go searching around Hut 2.
Thinking back, I should have wrapped the part from the Bombe in one of his shirts before hiding it, that would have been a clever move. I really do make a terrible spy.
“You’re right.” I shake my head. “You’re right. I don’t see how I can help you after all. So, there’s only one conclusion.”
“Oh, yes? And what’s that?”
“It’s your problem. Your security breach. So much for your careful vetting process.” I lean back in my chair and fold my arms so the way they shake will not be visible. “You’d better get on with solving it, instead of wasting your time in here with me.”
Harris harrumphs. He’s thinking it all over.
The blanket. Perfect. I scoop it up off the bed and hold it in place over the window. This should do it. Then I heft the bucket - this really is quite a fiddly thing to be doing, and I need far longer arms, especially in cuffs - and take a strong swing, trying to imagine it’s Harris’ face on the other side.
The sound of the impact is muffled. With my arm still covered, I sweep out the remaining glass in the frame. I’m ready to escape. The only trouble is - when they look in on me in the morning, there will be no question what has happened. It won’t help me one jot with shifting suspicion off my back.
“Hooper, I’ll make a deal with you. We both know what happened in that hut this afternoon. I know because I did it, and you know because you know you didn’t. But once this is done I’ll be rich, and I’ll split that with you. I’ll let you have the results, too. Your name on the discovery of the Bombe. And it won’t hurt the war effort - you know as well as me that the component on its own is worthless, it’s the wiring of the Bombe, the usage, that’s what’s valuable. So how about it?”
Hooper looks back at me, appalled. “You’re asking me to commit treason?”
“Yes, I considered it. He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
“He’s petty enough, certainly. He’s a creep.” I wipe a hand across my forehead. “All I can say is, ever since I arrived here, he’s been looking to ways to bring me down a peg. I wouldn’t be surprised if he set this whole affair up just to have me court-martialled.”
“We don’t court-martial civilians,” Harris replies. “Traitors are simply hung at her Majesty’s pleasure.”
“Please, Hooper. You don’t understand what’s at stake. They have information on me. What I’ve done. I don’t need to tell you what I’ve done, you know. I know you do. And I know you think it’s wrong, but please man, have a soul. They were going to ruin me. And the component - it’s nothing. It’s not the secret of the Bombe, or even of what we’re doing here. It’s just a part. The German’s think it’s a weapon - a missile component or a detonator. Let them have it! Please, man. Just help me.”
“Help you?” Hooper stares, as I have gone mad. “Help you? You’re a traitor, Iain. You’re a traitor. A snake in the grass. And you’re queer.”
I go over to the window and try to jimmy it open. Not much luck, but in my struggling I notice this window only backs on the thin little brook that runs down the back of the compound. Which means, if I smashed it, I might get away with no-one seeing.
“The Captain thought it was a good scheme. You’ll most likely get a promotion.”
“Let’s hope things work out,” Harris agrees darkly.
He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
Ah, but of course! I slip off one shoe and heft it by the toe. The heel will make a decent enough hammer, if I give it enough wallop.
But I’ll cut my hand to ribbons doing it. And the noise would be terrible. There must be a way of making this easier. I’m supposed to be a thief now. What would a burglar do?
I nod. “I don’t need twelve minutes. The missing component of the Bombe computer is hidden in a small cavity in a breeze-block supporting the left rear post of Hut 2. I put in there anticipating a search. I intended to dispose of it once the fuss had died down. I suppose I was foolish to think that it might.”
“Indeed you were. And, Mr Manning: God help you if you’re lying to me.”
Harris stands, and slips away smartly. Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
The bunk has a solid metal frame, a blanket, a pillow, nothing more.
“Very well. I see there’s no point in covering up. You know everything anyway.”
Harris nods, and waits for me to continue.
“There was a young man, Harris. I met him in the town. A few months ago now. We got to talking - not about work, you understand. I said I was an accountant for a firm, just as I was supposed to. Although he seemed to know that wasn’t true. That got me wondering if he wasn’t one of us.”
Harris is not letting me off any more. “You seriously considered that possibility?”
“It will. Hooper’s running scared,” I reply, hoping I sound more confident than I feel.
“I think we’ve had enough drama today already,” Harris replies. “Let’s hope for a clean kill.”
He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
The bucket? Hardly. The bucket might do some good if I wanted to sweep up the glass afterwards, but it won’t help me smash the glass quietly.
Morning comes. I’m woken by a rooster calling from the yard behind the House. I must have slept after all. I pull myself up from the bunk, shivering slightly. There is condensation on the inside of the window. I have probably given myself a chill.
The door handle turns and without knocking, Harris comes inside. “You’re up,” he remarks, and then, “You smell like an animal.”
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
That is Harris returning. Our little computation here is complete. I only hope one of the others will be able to explain to him that the part I stole will mean nothing to the Germans.
That is the true secret of the calculating engine, and the source of its power: not in the components themselves, but in how they are wired together. The diversity of patterns and structures they can form. Much like people - it is how they connect that determines our victories and tragedies, and not their genius.
Which makes me wonder. Should I give the young man who put me in this spot to them as well as myself?
“Yes.”
Harris stares back at me.
“I see.” There’s a long pause, like the endless delay between feeding in a line of cypher to the Bombe and waiting for its valves and cylinders to heat up enough to being processing. “Would you like to explain?”
“I’m looking forward to a long bath,” I reply. “And getting back to work.”
“Well, I’m afraid it is going to get worse for you,” Harris replies soberly. “We followed Hooper, and he took himself neatly to bed and slept like a boy scout. Which puts us back to square one, and you firmly in the frame. And I’m afraid I don’t have time for any more games. I want you to tell me where that component is, or we will hang you as a traitor.”
He passes a hand across his eyes with a long look of despair.
“I’m going to go outside and organise a rope. That’ll take about twelve minutes. That’s how long you have to decide.”
“I don’t know what gives you the right to pick on me. Shouldn’t I have a lawyer?”
“This is time of war,” Harris answers. His tone of voice has fallen down into darkness. “And by God, if I have to shoot you to recover the component or stop it falling into the wrong hands, I will, do you understand me?”
There’s an icy silence. He’s angry. He waves an impetuous hand across the field table.
“Now, drink your tea and talk.”
“I’d be happy to help,” I answer, sympathetically, leaning forward across the table. “I’m sure there’s something I could do.”
“Like what, exactly?”
It’s no good. Nothing I can do will be any less than obvious - something appearing where something was not there before. The men watching Hooper will know it is a deception and Hooper’s protestations will be taken at face value.
If I can’t find a way for Hooper to pick the component up, as if from a hiding place of his own devising, and be caught doing it, then I have no plan at all.
“Yes. Something like that. It’s a very lonely life otherwise. And the work we do - well. It only makes it worse. There’s barely a moment to oneself.”
“That’s how it is in the Service,” Harris answers. “I know you didn’t sign up for it but, well. There’s plenty of other men who didn’t who are serving now, too. Now, go on with your confession.”
That gives me pause, for a moment. I hadn’t thought of it as such. But I suppose that’s what this is. I am about to admit what I did, after all.
“There’s not much else to say. I took the part from Bombe computing device. You seem to know that already. I had to. He was going to expose me if I didn’t.”
“This young man was blackmailing you over your affair?”
“No, Harris. I don’t think you can understand.”
“Go on with your confession,” he replies. That gives me pause, for a moment. I hadn’t thought of it as such. But I suppose that’s what this is. I am about to admit what I did, after all.
“There’s not much else to say. I took the part from Bombe computing device. You seem to know that already. I had to. He was going to expose me if I didn’t.”
“This young man was blackmailing you over your affair?”
As Harris speaks I find myself suddenly sharply aware, as if waking from a long sleep. The table, the corrugated walls of the hut, everything seems suddenly more tangible than a moment before. Perhaps whatever it was they put in my drink is wearing off?
So perhaps I should wait it out, after all. Who knows? I might have a better opportunity later.
The rest of the night passes slowly. I sleep a little, dozing mostly. Then I’m woken by the rooster in the yard. The door opens, and Harris comes in. He takes one look at the broken window and frowns with puzzlement.
“What happened there?”
“He has? I knew he would. The worm.”
“Steady now. Matters aren’t over yet. There’s still the issue of the component. It hasn’t turned up. He didn’t lead us to it. I guess he figured you must have had something on him. I don’t know.”
He looks quite put out by the whole affair. He is not the kind of man to deal well with ambiguities and probabilities, far preferred the clarity of fact and falsehood.
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
“Heard what?”
“Hooper’s been taken away. They caught him, uncovering that missing Bombe component from a hiding place somewhere, apparently about to take it to his contact.” Russell harrumphs. “Quince was saying this morning, apparently his grandfather was German. So perhaps it’s to be expected. See you there?”
I wave to him and move away, my thoughts turning to the young man in the village. My lover. My contact. My blackmailer. Hooper may have taken the fall for the missing component, but if it was his recovering it from Hut 2 then I have nothing to sell to save my reputation.
If he didn’t, of course, and Harris was telling the truth about his sudden confession, then I will be able to buy my freedom once and for all.
“All right,” he declares, gruffly. “We’ll try it. But if this doesn’t work, I might just put the both of you in front of a firing squad and be done with these games. Worse things happen in time of war, you know.”
“Alone,” I add.
“Alone?”
“Alone.”
Harris considers it. I watch his eyes, flicking backwards and forwards over mine, like a ribbon-reader trying to load in its program.
Work carefully? It’s difficult to work carefully when all one’s has is nothing but brute force.
I pause a moment, trying to choose my words. To just come out and say it, after a lifetime of hiding... I wouldn’t know how. To put it into words, bluntly and directly: that is a circle I cannot square.
“I’ve done things,” I begin, uncomfortably. “I didn’t want to. I tried not to. But in the end, you understand. I had to. It felt like cutting off my own arm not to. Things I know I shouldn’t have. Things I perhaps regret.”
“I see,” Harris answers. “You’ve left yourself open. To pressure. Is that what you’re saying?”
Work carefully? It’s difficult to work carefully when all one’s has is a shoe.
“I’m looking forward to a long bath,” I reply. “And getting back to work.”
“Well, I’m afraid it is going to get worse for you,” Harris replies soberly. “We followed Hooper, and he took himself neatly to bed and slept like a boy scout. Which puts us back to square one, and you firmly in the frame. And I’m afraid I don’t have time for any more games. I want you to tell me where that component is, or we will hang you as a traitor.”
He passes a hand across his eyes with a long look of despair.
“I’m going to go outside and organise a rope. That’ll take about twelve minutes. That’s how long you have to decide.”
After a chance like this? A chance - however real - to save my neck? To hand it over - what, to save Hooper’s worthless skin?
“No. I have no idea.”
“Come now,” Harris says, quite the reasonable gent. “I think you can be a little more forthcoming.”
“Or be thrown into the river.”
“Hmm.” Harris chews his moustache thoughtfully. “Well, that would put us in a spot, seeing as how we’d never know for certain. We’d have to be ready to change our whole approach just in case the part had got through to the Germans. I don’t mind telling you, this is a disaster, this whole thing. What I want is to find that little bit of mechanical trickery anywhere. I don’t care where. In your luncheon box or under Hooper’s pillow, whatever. Just somewhere, and within the grounds of this place.”
“Nothing,” I reply. “You’re just the other man in the room. One of us has to get the blame.”
I get to my feet and open the door of the Hut. The Captain storms back inside and I’m quickly thrown out. Harris hustles me over to the barracks. “I hope that’s the end of it,” he mutters as he pushes me up the steps.
“Just be sure to let him out,” I reply. “And then see where he goes.”
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. Thinking back, I should have wrapped the part from the Bombe in one of his shirts before hiding it, that would have been a clever move. I really do make a terrible spy.
“I still have it. Not on me, of course. The missing component of the Bombe computer is hidden in a small cavity in a breeze-block supporting the left rear post of Hut 2. I put in there anticipating a search. I intended to dispose of it once the fuss had died down. I suppose I was foolish to think that it might.”
“Indeed you were. And, Mr Manning: God help you if you’re lying to me.”
Harris stands, and slips away smartly. Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
I look in through the door and catch Hooper’s expression. I had half expected him to be smiling be he isn’t. He looks shocked, almost hurt. “Iain,” he murmurs. “You couldn’t...”
The Captain comes outside, pulling the door to. “What’s this?” he asks. “A confession? Just like that?”
“No,” the Commander admits, in a low voice. “I’m afraid not. Rather more a scheme. The idea is to let Hooper go and see what he does. If he believes we have Manning here in irons, he’ll try to shift the component.”
“If he has it.”
“Indeed.”
The Captain peers at me for a moment, like I was some kind of curious insect.
“Sometimes, I think you people are magicians,” he remarks. “Other times you seem more like witches. Very well.”
With that he opens the door to the Hut and goes back inside. The Commander uses the moment to hustle me roughly forward.
“This scheme of yours had better come off,” he hisses in my ear. “Otherwise the Captain is going to start having men tailing me to see where I go on Saturdays.”
“I don’t know what gives you the right to pick on me. Shouldn’t I have a lawyer?”
“This is time of war,” Harris answers. His tone of voice has fallen down into darkness. “And by God, if I have to shoot you to recover the component or stop it falling into the wrong hands, I will, do you understand me?”
There’s an icy silence. He’s angry. He waves an impetuous hand across the field table.
“Now, drink your tea and talk.”
“Messy, without one missing cache!” I cry, laughing spitefully. It isn’t the best clue, hardly worthy of the Times, but it will have to do.
I only catch Hooper’s reaction for a moment - his eyebrow lifts in surprise and alarm. Good. If he thinks it is a threat then he just might be careless enough to go looking for what it might mean.
The Captain comes outside, pulling the door to. “What’s this?” he asks. “A confession? Just like that?”
“No,” the Commander admits, in a low voice. “I’m afraid not. Rather more a scheme. The idea is to let Hooper go and see what he does. If he believes we have Manning here in irons, he’ll try to shift the component.”
“If he has it.”
“Indeed.”
The Captain peers at me for a moment, like I was some kind of curious insect.
“Sometimes, I think you people are magicians,” he remarks. “Other times you seem more like witches. Very well.”
With that he opens the door to the Hut and goes back inside. The Commander uses the moment to hustle me roughly forward.
“And what was all that shouting about?” he hisses in my ear as we move towards the barracks. “Are you trying to pull something? Or just make me look incompetent?”
No, I am content. I suppose I do not believe they will hang me. They will lock me up and continue to use my brain, if they can. I wonder what they will tell the world - perhaps that I have taken my own life. That would be simplest. The few who know me would believe it.
Well, then. Not a bad existence, in prison. Removed from temptation. A kind of imposed monasticism, with plenty more problems to solve, and more mysteries to fathom.
I wonder what else I might yet unravel before I’m done?
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
“Yes.”
Harris stares back at me.
“I see.” There’s a long pause, like the endless delay between feeding in a line of cypher to the Bombe and waiting for its valves and cylinders to heat up enough to being processing. “Would you like to explain?”
I shift in my seat. “Not really. The boy was a simpleton, obviously. My intellectual inferior. His good opinion meant nothing to be. Harris, please do not misunderstand me. I was simply after his body.”
Harris, to his credit, doesn’t flinch. Well, perhaps not: but he’ll have nightmares of this moment tonight. I’m almost tempted to reach out and try to take his hand to worsen it for him, but I hold back.
“Go on with your confession,” he replies. I shrug.
“There’s not much else to say. I took the part from Bombe computing device. You seem to know that already. I had to. He was going to expose me if I didn’t.”
“This young man was blackmailing you over your affair?”
“That’s not important now. What matters is what you do, this evening. All you have to do is go to the back of Hut 2. There’s a breeze-block with a cavity. That’s where I’ve put it. I’ll be locked up overnight, I should think. But you can pick it up and pass it to my contact. He’ll be at the south fence around two AM.”
“If you think I’ll do that then you’re crazy,” Hooper replies.
At that moment the door flies open and the Captain comes storming back inside.
Harris hustles me over to the barracks. “I hope that’s the end of it,” he mutters as he pushes me up the steps.
“Just be sure to let him out,” I reply. “And then see where he goes.”
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
“You’re right.” I shake my head. “You’re right. I don’t see how I can help you after all. So, there’s only one conclusion.”
“Oh, yes? And what’s that?”
“It’s your problem. Your security breach. So much for your careful vetting process.” I lean back in my chair and fold my arms so the way they shake will not be visible. “You’d better get on with solving it, instead of wasting your time in here with me.”
Harris harrumphs. He’s thinking it all over.
I cast around the small room. There’s a bucket in one corner for emergencies - I suppose I could use that. I pick it up but it’s not very easy to heft. And the noise would be terrible. There must be a way of making this easier. I’m supposed to be a thief now. What would a burglar do?
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
“That’s exactly it,” I say quietly. “Harris. You understand. There are some things... which can get a man into a lot of trouble. Things one shouldn’t do.”
Harris, to his credit, doesn’t stiffen. He doesn’t lean away, or remove his hands from the table-top as though my condition might be infectious. I thought they trained them in the army to shoot my kind on sight but he does not.
Of course, he does not offer any sympathy either. He only nods, once. The understanding that has passed between us here is a mere turning cog in his calculations, with no meaning or righteousness to it.
“I’ve seen the same story a hundred times before,” he says. “A young man like yourself - clever, somewhat removed from the world. The kind that doesn’t go to parties, you might say. Who takes himself a little too seriously, perhaps. Takes things too far. Further than a man should allow a thing to go. That’s the story, isn’t it? You took things too far, and then you couldn’t take them back. And now they have you.”
I’ve more important problems to think about now. There’s still yesterday’s intercept to be resolved. The Bombe needs to be set up once more and set running.
It’s time I tackled a problem I can solve.
“No. I passed it on to Hooper.”
“I see. And what did he do with it?”
“No. Not for more than a moment, of course. Everyone here is marked out by how little we would be willing to say about it.”
“Only you told this young man more than a little, didn’t you?”
I nod. “He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
“You want me to tell you what happened? You’ll be disgusted, I’m quite sure.”
“I can imagine how it starts,” he growls.
“There was a young man, Harris. I met him in the town. A few months ago now. We got to talking - not about work. I said I was an accountant for a firm, just as I was supposed to. Although he seemed to know that wasn’t true. That got me wondering if he wasn’t one of us.”
Harris is not letting me off any more. “You seriously considered that possibility?”
“I’m no traitor,” I answer smartly.
He stares back at me. “Let’s get straight to the point. Do you have the component?” Harris demands. “Do you know where it is?”
Morning comes. I’m woken by a rooster calling from the yard behind the House. I must have slept after all. I pull myself up from the bunk, shivering slightly. There is condensation on the inside of the window. I have probably given myself a chill.
The door handle turns and without knocking, Harris comes inside. “You’re up,” he remarks, and then, “You smell like an animal.”
“I’m not sure. I was asleep: I woke up when someone broke the window. I looked out to see who it was, but they were already gone.”
Harris looks at me with puzzlement. “Someone came by to break the window, and then ran off? That’s absurd. That’s utterly absurd. Admit it, Manning. You tried to escape and you couldn’t get through.”
I go over to the window and try to jimmy it open. Not much luck, but in my struggling I notice this window only backs on the thin little brook that runs down the back of the compound. Which means, if I smashed it, I might get away with no-one seeing.
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
“I don’t see why,” I reply, looking him straight in the eye.
His gaze is unexpressive: I’ve seen Harris broad and full of laughter, but today he is rigid, as much part of the military machine as the devices in Hut 5.
“There really isn’t any time to be wasted,” he says. “But you know why you’re here, of course.”
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
The blanket. Perfect. I scoop it up off the bed and hold it in place over the window. This should do it. Then I heft the bucket - this really is quite a fiddly thing to be doing, and I need far longer arms, especially in cuffs - and take a strong swing, trying to imagine it’s Harris’ face on the other side.
The sound of the impact is muffled. With my arm still covered, I sweep out the remaining glass in the frame. I’m ready to escape. The only trouble is - when they look in on me in the morning, there will be no question what has happened. It won’t help me one jot with shifting suspicion off my back.
“Absolutely.”
Harris opens the door and pushes me inside. “Captain,” he calls. “Could I have a moment?”
The Captain, looking puzzled, steps out. The door is closed. Hooper stares at me, open-mouthed, about to say something. I probably have less than a minute before the Captain storms back in and declares this plan to be bunkum.
I leave the cup exactly where it is. “Why?” I ask coldly. “What’s in it?”
“Lapsang Souchong,” he remarks, placing his own cup down on the table with a clink. “Such a curious flavour. It might almost not be tea at all. You might say it hides a multitude of sins. As do you, isn’t that correct?”
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
“Explain what you should be doing, do you mean, rather than bullying me? Certainly.” I fold my arms. “I know where your component is because it’s obvious where your component is. That doesn’t mean I took it, just because I can figure out a simple problem, any more than it means I’m a German spy because I can crack their codes.”
“Tell me, then,” he asks. “What’s your theory? You’re a smart fellow - as smart as they come around here, and that’s saying something. What’s your opinion on the missing component? Accident, perhaps? Or do you blame one of the other men? Hooper?”
“Explain what you should be doing, do you mean, rather than bullying me? Certainly.” I fold my arms. “I know where your component is because it’s obvious where your component is. That doesn’t mean I took it, just because I can figure out a simple problem, any more than it means I’m a German spy because I can crack their codes.”
“Tell me, then,” he asks. “What’s your theory? You’re a smart fellow - as smart as they come around here, and that’s saying something. What’s your opinion on the missing component? Accident, perhaps? Or do you blame one of the other men?”
Work carefully? It’s difficult to work carefully when all one’s has is nothing but brute force.
Satisfied, I return the short way up the paths between the huts to the barrack block and the broken window.
It’s a little harder getting back through - the window is higher off the ground than the floor inside - but after a decent bit of jumping and hauling I manage to get my elbows up, and then one leg, and finally I collapse inside, quite winded and out breath.
“I did.”
I have become, somehow, an accustomed liar - the words roll easily off my tongue. Perhaps I am a traitor, I think, now that I dissemble as easily as one.
“Go on,” Harris says, giving me no indication of whether he believes my tale.
I pause a moment, trying to choose my words. To just come out and say it, after a lifetime of hiding... I wouldn’t know how. To put it into words, bluntly and directly: that is a circle I cannot square.
“I’ve done things,” I begin, uncomfortably. “I didn’t want to. I tried not to. But in the end, you understand. I had to. It felt like cutting off my own arm not to. Things I know I shouldn’t have. Things I perhaps regret.”
“I see,” Harris answers. “You’ve left yourself open. To pressure. Is that what you’re saying?”
“I saw Hooper take it.”
“I see.” He is starting to lose his temper - I can see it in the creases of his face. I have seen Harris angry a few times, with lackeys and secretaries and the like, usually over things sent late or incorrectly. But never with us. With the “brains” he has always been so cautious, treating us like children. And now I see that, like a father, he wants only to smack us when we disobey him. “I wish you’d stop with your deceptions and get to the truth, man. Every minute matters.”
No. Why would I? He is no doubt an innocent himself, trapped by some dire circumstance. Forced to act the way he did. I have every sympathy for him.
Of course I do.
“We recovered the part, just where you said it was,” Harris reports, as he puts the cuffs around my wrists. “Of course, a couple of the men swear blind they searched there yesterday, so I’m afraid, what with the broken window... we’ve formed a perfectly good theory which doesn’t bode well for you.”
“I see.” It doesn’t seem worth arguing any further. “I still have the intercept in my pocket,” I remark. “Wherever we’re going, could I have a pencil?”
He looks me in the eye.
“Certainly. And one of your computing things, if I get my way. And when we’re old, and smoking pipes together in The Rag like heroes, I’ll explain to you the way that decent men have affairs. You scientists.” He drags me up to my feet. “You think you have to re-invent everything.”
With that, he hustles me out of the door and I can’t help thinking that, with a little more strategy, I could still have won the day. But too late now, of course.
“So would you,” I reply tartly. Harris raises an eyebrow.
“I’ve been through worse than this,” he replies matter-of-factly. “It’s hardly my fault if you sleep in your clothes.”
I glare back at him.
He goes over to the window, unlocks it and throws it open, relishing the fresh air from outside. “Hooper’s confessed, you know.”
I go over to the window and try to jimmy it open. Not much luck, but in my struggling I notice this window only backs on the thin little brook that runs down the back of the compound. Which means, if I smashed it, I might get away with no-one seeing.
From outside, I hear a voice. Hooper’s. He’s haranguing someone, for something.
I open my mouth to disagree, but somehow the words will not come out. It is like Harris has taken a screwdriver to the sides of my jaw. My tongue feels thick and heavy.
“I suppose so,” I reply. “I’ve certainly done things I regret. Things I shouldn’t have done.”
“I see,” Harris answers. “You’ve left yourself open. To pressure. Is that what you’re saying?”
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
Still there means no-one has found it, which means it is probably well-hidden. And short of skipping the compound now, I can afford to leave it hidden there a while longer. So I leave it in place.
Where now?
“So would you,” I reply tartly. Harris raises an eyebrow.
“I’ve been through worse than this,” he replies matter-of-factly. “It’s hardly my fault if you sleep in your clothes.”
I glare back at him.
He goes over to the window, unlocks it and throws it open, relishing the fresh air from outside. “Hooper’s confessed, you know.”
“I always meant to tell you,” I tell him. “I thought perhaps I could find out who they were. Lead you to them.”
Harris looks at me with contempt. “You wretched little man. Don’t think your tongue will be able to get you out of trouble. You’re going to pay for what you’ve done, and you’re going to pay dearly. If a single man loses his life because of your pride and your perversions then God help your eternal soul. The fact is you committed a crime.” If I had any sense that he understood my predicament, and that he felt for my state of being, it collapses like a chain with a broken link. “You thought you could repair it with another, more serious crime?” He shakes his head. “I thought you men were supposed to be clever. But this is the action of a frightened woman. So I’d like you to tell me, now. Where is it?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
“Here at Bletchley? Of course I do...”
“Here, now,” Harris replies firmly. “We’re not talking to everyone, you understand. I can imagine you might feel pretty sore about that, old man. I can imagine you feeling picked on. You always were a sensitive soul.”
With my jacket wrapped round my arm, I sweep out the remaining shards of glass. It’s not a big window, but I’m not a big man. If I was Harris, I’d be stuffed, but as it is...
Then the door locks turns. The door opens. Then Jeremy - one of the guards, rather - sticks his head through the door. “I thought I heard...”
He stops. Looks for a moment. Sees the broken window. Then without a moment’s further thought he blows his shrill whistles and hustles into the hut, grabbing me roughly by my arms.
I’m hustled into one of the huts. Nowhere to sleep, but they’re not interested in my comfort any longer. Harris comes in with the Captain.
“So,” Harris remarks. “Looks like your little trap worked. Only it worked to show you out for what you are.”
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
I pause a moment, trying to choose my words. To just come out and say it, after a lifetime of hiding... I wouldn’t know how. To put it into words, bluntly and directly: that is a circle I cannot square.
“I’ve done things,” I begin, uncomfortably. “I didn’t want to. I tried not to. But in the end, you understand. I had to. It felt like cutting off my own arm not to. Things I know I shouldn’t have. Things I perhaps regret.”
“I see,” Harris answers. “You’ve left yourself open. To pressure. Is that what you’re saying?”
“It’s your problem. Your security breach. So much for your careful vetting process.” I lean back in my chair and fold my arms so the way they shake will not be visible. “You’d better get on with solving it, instead of wasting your time in here with me.”
Harris harrumphs. He’s thinking it all over.
“Damn right I’m sore. Was it one of the others who put you up to this? Was it Hooper? He’s always been jealous of me. He’s...”
The Commander moustache bristles as he purses his lips. “Has he now? Of your achievements, do you think?” It’s difficult not to shake the sense that he’s mocking me. “Or of your brain? Or something else?”
“I suppose I do rather.” I laugh, but Harris does not.
“This damn business gets worse and worse,” he says, talking as he goes over to unlock and throw open the window. “Hooper’s confessed, you know.”
“We’ll fool him. He’s waiting to be sure that I’ve been strung up for this, so let’s give him what he wants. If he sees me taken away, clapped in irons - he’ll go straight to that component and set about getting rid of it.”
Harris gets to his feet. “All right,” he says. “I should no better than to trust a clever man, but we’ll give it a go.” Then, he smiles, with all his teeth, like a wolf. “Hooper’s in Hut 3 being debriefed by the Captain. Let’s see if we can’t get his attention somehow.”
He raps on the door for the guard and gives the man a quick instruction. He returns a moment later with a cool pair of iron cuffs.
“Put ‘em up,” Harris instructs, and I do so. The metal closes around my wrists like a trap. I stand and follow Harris willingly out through the door.
But whatever I’m doing with my body, my mind is scheming. Somehow, I’m thinking, I have to get away from these men long enough to get that component behind Hut 2 and put it somewhere Hooper will go. Or, otherwise, somehow get Hooper to go there himself...
Harris marches me over to Hut 3, and gestures for the guard to stand aside. Pushing me forward, he opens the door nice and wide.
“Captain. Manning talked. If you’d step out for a moment?”
The bunk has a solid metal frame, a blanket, a pillow, nothing more.
“Yes. Something like that. It’s a very lonely life otherwise. And the work we do - well. It only makes it worse. There’s barely a moment to oneself.”
“That’s how it is in the Service,” Harris answers. “I know you didn’t sign up for it but, well. There’s plenty of other men who didn’t who are serving now, too. Now, go on with your confession.”
That gives me pause, for a moment. I hadn’t thought of it as such. But I suppose that’s what this is. I am about to admit what I did, after all.
“There’s not much else to say. I took the part from Bombe computing device. You seem to know that already. I had to. He was going to expose me if I didn’t.”
“This young man was blackmailing you over your affair?”
“No. Not for more than a moment, of course. Everyone here is marked out by how little we would be willing to say about it.”
“Only you told this young man more than a little, didn’t you?”
I nod. “He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
With my jacket wrapped round my arm, I sweep out the remaining shards of glass. It’s not a big window, but I’m not a big man. If I was Harris, I’d be stuffed, but as it is...
Then the door locks turns. The door opens. Then Jeremy - one of the guards, rather - sticks his head through the door. “I thought I heard...”
He stops. Looks for a moment. Sees the broken window. Then without a moment’s further thought he blows his shrill whistles and hustles into the hut, grabbing me roughly by my arms.
I’m hustled into one of the huts. Nowhere to sleep, but they’re not interested in my comfort any longer. Harris comes in with the Captain.
“So,” Harris remarks. “Looks like your little trap worked. Only it worked to show you out for what you are.”
“Very well then.” I swallow nervously, to make it look more genuine. “No. I passed it on to Hooper.”
“I see. And what did he do with it?”
“There’s nothing to explain,” I reply stiffly. “I know where your component is because it’s obvious where your component is. That doesn’t mean I took it, just because I can figure out a simple problem, any more than it means I’m a German spy because I can crack their codes.”
“Tell me, then,” he asks. “What’s your theory? You’re a smart fellow - as smart as they come around here, and that’s saying something. What’s your opinion on the missing component? Accident, perhaps? Or do you blame one of the other men?”
I say quiet, listening, not sure how this will go.
“In case I’m not making myself clear,” Harris continues, “I mean, he managed to find it, by accident, somewhere where it wasn’t the night before. And at the same time, you’re sitting here with your window broken. So, I rather think you’ve played your last hand and lost. There’s no way Hooper stole that component and then just left it lying around in the doorway of his tent. No way at all. So I came to tell you that the game is up for you.”
He nods and gets to his feet. Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
There is nothing I can do to speed up time. The night draws on at its own pace. I suppose by morning I will know my fate.
“I always meant to tell you,” I tell him. “I thought perhaps I could find out who they were. Lead you to them.”
Harris looks at me with contempt. “You wretched little man. Don’t think your tongue will be able to get you out of trouble. You’re going to pay for what you’ve done, and you’re going to pay dearly. If a single man loses his life because of your pride and your perversions then God help your eternal soul. The fact is you committed a crime.” If I had any sense that he understood my predicament, and that he felt for my state of being, it collapses like a chain with a broken link. “You thought you could repair it with another, more serious crime?” He shakes his head. “I thought you men were supposed to be clever. But this is the action of a frightened woman. So I’d like you to tell me, now. Where is it?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
“The component?”
“Yes,” Harris replies levelly. “The component that went missing this afternoon. I doubt that you’ve forgotten.”
He’s talking about the missing reel from the Bombe. Russell discovered it this afternoon when the machine began producing strange results. We were all in the Hut when it happened and it had been in place when we sat down to work. The conclusions had been obvious to all four of us immediately, but had gone undiscussed, even after the empty socket was located, the wiring torn on either side.
“Lucky these things are easy to replace,” Russell had remarked, and that had been that. We had stopped work, sent out for a new part to be machined. And drunk our tea and watched each other.
“Come now,” Harris says, quite the reasonable gent. “As I told you. We’re not interviewing everyone. Only you. So. I think you can be a little more forthcoming.”
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
“No. I have no idea.”
“Come now,” Harris says, quite the reasonable gent. “I think you can be a little more forthcoming.”
Work carefully? It’s difficult to work carefully when all one’s has is a shoe.
“All right,” he declares, gruffly. “We’ll try it. But if this doesn’t work, I might just put the both of you in front of a firing squad and be done with these games. Worse things happen in time of war, you know.”
“Alone,” I add.
“Alone?”
“Alone.”
Harris considers it. I watch his eyes, flicking backwards and forwards over mine, like a ribbon-reader trying to load in its program.
“It’s not that bad. I can still fix it.”
Harris shakes his head. “This isn’t a problem to be cracked. This isn’t a puzzle. I’m sorry, but this is bigger than you now. Look. You can go to prison for what you’ve done, or we can change your identity and move you somewhere where your... indiscretions... can’t hurt anyone any more. But right now none of that matters. What happens to you, doesn’t matter. All that matters is where that component is. So I’d like you to tell me, now. Where is it?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
I have a single moment to shout something to Hooper before the door closes.
“I’ll get you Hooper, you’ll see!” I cry. Then:
“Just adding to the drama,” I tell him, confidently. “I’m sure you can understand that.”
“I think we’ve had enough drama today already,” Harris replies. “Let’s hope for a clean kill.”
He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. I can only hope that Hooper bites on my baited hook. If he thinks I’m mad and bitter enough to have framed him somehow, and arrogant enough to have taunted him with a clue to where the damning evidence is hidden... if he hates me enough, and is paranoid enough, then he might unravel my little riddle and go searching around Hut 2.
Thinking back, I should have wrapped the part from the Bombe in one of his shirts before hiding it, that would have been a clever move. I really do make a terrible spy.
“I don’t know.”
“You can do better than that. Remember, there’s a hangman’s noose waiting for traitors.”
I pause for a moment longer. It doesn’t do to be too careless...
Then the door locks turns. The door opens. Then Jeremy - one of the guards, rather - sticks his head through the door. “I thought I heard...”
He stops. Looks for a moment. Sees the broken window. Then without a moment’s further thought he blows his shrill whistles and hustles into the hut, grabbing me roughly by my arms.
I’ll never know if I hadn’t have waited that extra moment - maybe I still could have got away. But, how far?
I’m hustled into one of the huts. Nowhere to sleep, but they’re not interested in my comfort any longer. Harris comes in with the Captain.
“So,” Harris remarks. “Looks like your little trap worked. Only it worked to show you out for what you are.”
I hang back a moment. Something does not seem quite right. After all, Hooper did not steal the component. He has no reason to confess to anything. Perhaps this is another trap?
“Well?” Harris asks. “What are you waiting for? Please don’t tell me you want to confess now as well, I don’t think my head could stand it.”
I cast around the small room. There’s a bucket in one corner for emergencies - I suppose I could use that. I pick it up but it’s not very easy to heft. And the noise would be terrible. There must be a way of making this easier. I’m supposed to be a thief now. What would a burglar do?
“I don’t know what gives you the right to pick on me. Shouldn’t I have a lawyer?”
“This is time of war,” Harris answers. His tone of voice has fallen down into darkness. “And by God, if I have to shoot you to recover the component or stop it falling into the wrong hands, I will, do you understand me?”
There’s an icy silence. He’s angry. He waves an impetuous hand across the field table.
“Now, drink your tea and talk.”
A neat idea strikes me. If I could place it on top of the canvas, somewhere in the middle where it would bow the cloth inwards, then it would be invisible to anyone passing by. But to Hooper, it would be above him: a shadow staring him in the face as he awoke. What could be more natural than getting up, coming out, and looking to see what had fallen on him during the night?
It’s the work of a moment. I was once an excellent bowler for the second XI back at school. This time I throw underarm, of course, but I still land the vital missing component exactly where I want it to go.
For a second I hold my breath, but nothing and no-one stirs. Satisfied, I return the short way up the paths between the huts to the barrack block and the broken window.
It’s a little harder getting back through - the window is higher off the ground than the floor inside - but after a decent bit of jumping and hauling I manage to get my elbows up, and then one leg, and finally I collapse inside, quite winded and out breath.
From where he’s sitting, I know Hooper can see me, so I keep my head down and look guilty as sin. The bastard is probably smiling.
The Captain comes outside, pulling the door to. “What’s this?” he asks. “A confession? Just like that?”
“No,” the Commander admits, in a low voice. “I’m afraid not. Rather more a scheme. The idea is to let Hooper go and see what he does. If he believes we have Manning here in irons, he’ll try to shift the component.”
“If he has it.”
“Indeed.”
The Captain peers at me for a moment, like I was some kind of curious insect.
“Sometimes, I think you people are magicians,” he remarks. “Other times you seem more like witches. Very well.”
With that he opens the door to the Hut and goes back inside. The Commander uses the moment to hustle me roughly forward.
“This scheme of yours had better come off,” he hisses in my ear. “Otherwise the Captain is going to start having men tailing me to see where I go on Saturdays.”
Work carefully? It’s difficult to work carefully when all one’s has is nothing but brute force.
“I know nothing about it.” My voice is shaking with anger as I try to speak. I’m not accustomed to facing off against the Commander - against any man with a gun in his holster. “I don’t know what gives you the right to pick on me. I demand a lawyer.”
“This is time of war,” Harris answers. His tone of voice has fallen down into darkness. “And by God, if I have to shoot you to recover the component or stop it falling into the wrong hands, I will, do you understand me?”
There’s an icy silence. I’ve cracked him a little at least. He’s angry. He waves an impetuous hand across the field table.
“Now, drink your tea and talk.”
“You’re right. Let me talk to him, then. As a colleague. Maybe I can get something useful out of him.”
Harris shakes his head. “He despises you, doesn’t he? I don’t see why he’d give himself up to you.”
“That’s exactly it,” I say quietly. “Harris. You understand. There are some things... which can get a man into a lot of trouble. Things one shouldn’t do.”
Harris, to his credit, doesn’t stiffen. He doesn’t lean away, or remove his hands from the table-top as though my condition might be infectious. I thought they trained them in the army to shoot my kind on sight but he does not.
Of course, he does not offer any sympathy either. He only nods, once. The understanding that has passed between us here is a mere turning cog in his calculations, with no meaning or righteousness to it.
“I’ve seen the same story a hundred times before,” he says. “A young man like yourself - clever, somewhat removed from the world. The kind that doesn’t go to parties, you might say. Who takes himself a little too seriously, perhaps. Takes things too far. Further than a man should allow a thing to go. That’s the story, isn’t it? You took things too far, and then you couldn’t take them back. And now they have you.”
“I did.”
I have become, somehow, an accustomed liar - the words roll easily off my tongue. Perhaps I am a traitor, I think, now that I dissemble as easily as one.
“Go on,” Harris says, giving me no indication of whether he believes my tale.
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
“Try me. Just me and him.”
“Alone?”
“Alone.”
Harris considers it. I watch his eyes, flicking backwards and forwards over mine, like a ribbon-reader trying to load in its program.
“Maybe I can help with that.”
“Oh, yes? And how, exactly?”
“Yes, I considered it. He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
“Yes. I didn’t have long, but I had long enough. The missing component of the Bombe computer is hidden in a small cavity in a breeze-block supporting the left rear post of Hut 2. I put in there anticipating a search. I intended to pass it to Hooper once the fuss had died down. I suppose I was foolish to think that it might.”
“Indeed you were. And, Mr Manning: God help you if you’re lying to me.”
Harris stands, and slips away smartly. Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
“I don’t know what gives you the right to pick on me. I demand a lawyer.”
“This is time of war,” Harris answers. His tone of voice has fallen down into darkness. “And by God, if I have to shoot you to recover the component or stop it falling into the wrong hands, I will, do you understand me?”
There’s an icy silence. He’s angry. He waves an impetuous hand across the field table.
“Now, drink your tea and talk.”
I put my ear to the keyhole but can make out nothing. Are there still guards posted? Perhaps the component has been found and the crisis is over.
Perhaps the door is unlocked and they left me to sleep? I try the handle. No such luck.
The night draws on at its own pace. I suppose by morning I will know my fate.
I go over to the window and try to jimmy it open. Not much luck, but in my struggling I notice this window only backs on the thin little brook that runs down the back of the compound. Which means, if I smashed it, I might get away with no-one seeing.
“Of course I do,” I answer.
The reel went missing from the Bombe this afternoon. The four of us were in the Hut at the time, working on the latest intercept. It was Russell who noticed the machine producing strange results and found the gap in its plugboard. But as to who took it - it could have been any of us.
And indeed, it must have been. The machine had been functioning as normal when we began our calculations. And then, a short few hours later, it was gone. We had to stop. There was nothing more we could do until it was replaced. The part was vital, just as the machine was vital, and so were the contents of the message, still unread twenty four hours later.
“Let’s get straight to the point. Do you have the component?” Harris demands. “Do you know where it is?”
“I am what I am,” I reply. “I’m the way nature made me. But they’re going to hang me unless you help me, Hooper. Don’t let them hang me.”
“Assuming I wanted to help you,” he replies, carefully. “Which I don’t. What would I do?”
“Nothing. Almost nothing.
All you have to do is go to the back of Hut 2. There’s a breeze-block with a cavity. That’s where I’ve put it. I’ll be locked up overnight, I should think. But you can pick it up and pass it to my contact. He’ll be at the south fence around two AM."
“If you think I’ll do that then you’re crazy,” Hooper replies.
At that moment the door flies open and the Captain comes storming back inside.
Harris hustles me over to the barracks. “I hope that’s the end of it,” he mutters as he pushes me up the steps.
“Just be sure to let him out,” I reply. “And then see where he goes.”
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
I fold my arms, intended firmly to say nothing. But somehow, watching Harris’ face, I cannot bring myself to do it. I want to confess. I want to tell him everything I can, to explain myself to him, to earn his forgiveness. The sensation is so strong my will is powerless in the face of it.
Something is wrong with me, I am sure of it. There is a strange, bitter flavour on my tongue. I taste it as words start to form.
“I’ve done things,” I begin, uncomfortably. “I didn’t want to. I tried not to. But in the end, you understand. I had to. It felt like cutting off my own arm not to. Things I know I shouldn’t have. Things I perhaps regret.”
“I see,” Harris answers. “You’ve left yourself open. To pressure. Is that what you’re saying?”
That is Harris returning. Our little computation here is complete.
That is the true secret of the calculating engine, and the source of its power: not in the components themselves, but in how they are wired together. The diversity of patterns and structures they can form. Much like people - it is how they connect that determines our victories and tragedies, and not their genius.
Which makes me wonder. Should I give up my beautiful young man to them as well as myself?
“I imagine I’ll smell worse after another couple of days of this.”
“That won’t be necessary. We found the missing component. Or rather, Hooper found it for us. He snuck out of his tent first thing in the morning and retrieved it from on top. Of all the damnest places - you would never have known it was there. He acted all surprised about it when we jumped him, of course, as you might expect - but it was good enough for me.”
With my jacket wrapped round my arm, I sweep out the remaining shards of glass. It’s not a big window, but I’m not a big man. If I was Harris, I’d be stuffed, but as it is...
Then the door locks turns. The door opens. Then Jeremy - one of the guards, rather - sticks his head through the door. “I thought I heard...”
He stops. Looks for a moment. Sees the bucket in my hand. Then without a moment’s further thought he blows his shrill whistles and hustles into the hut, grabbing me roughly by my arms.
I’m hustled into one of the huts. Nowhere to sleep, but they’re not interested in my comfort any longer. Harris comes in with the Captain.
“So,” Harris remarks. “Looks like your little trap worked. Only it worked to show you out for what you are.”
“I can imagine how being surrounded by clever men is pretty threatening for you, Commander,” I reply with a sneer. “They don’t train you to think in the Armed Forces.”
“Talk,” Harris demands. “Talk, now. Tell me where you’ve hidden it or who you’ve passed it to. Or God help me, but I’ll take your wretched pansy body to pieces looking for it, do you understand me?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
“You’re right.” I shake my head. “You’re right. I don’t see how I can help you after all. So, there’s only one conclusion.”
“Oh, yes? And what’s that?”
“It’s your problem. Your security breach. So much for your careful vetting process.” I lean back in my chair and fold my arms so the way they shake will not be visible. “You’d better get on with solving it, instead of wasting your time in here with me.”
Harris harrumphs. He’s thinking it all over.
I slip off my jacket and hold it with one hand over the glass. This should do it. Then I heft my shoe by its toe, and take a strong swing, trying to imagine it’s Harris’ face on the other side.
The sound of the impact is muffled. With my arm still covered, I sweep out the remaining glass in the frame. I’m ready to escape. The only trouble is - when they look in on me in the morning, there will be no question what has happened. It won’t help me one jot with shifting suspicion off my back.
“Damn right I’m sore. Was it one of the others who put you up to this? Was it Hooper? He’s always been jealous of me. He’s...”
The Commander moustache bristles as he purses his lips. “Has he now? Of your achievements, do you think?” It’s difficult not to shake the sense that he’s mocking me. “Or of your brain? Or something else?”
“All right,” he declares, gruffly. “We’ll try it. But if this doesn’t work, I might just put the both of you in front of a firing squad and be done with these games. Worse things happen in time of war, you know.”
“Alone,” I add.
“Alone?”
“Alone.”
Harris considers it. I watch his eyes, flicking backwards and forwards over mine, like a ribbon-reader trying to load in its program.
“Listen to me, Hooper. We were the only men in that hut today, so we know what happened. But I want you to know this. I put the component inside a breeze-block in the foundations of Hut 2, wrapped in one of your shirts. They’re going to find it eventually, and that’s going to be what tips the balance. And there’s nothing you can do to stop any of that from happening.”
His eyes bulge with terror. “What did I do, to you? What did I ever do?”
“You can’t do this!” I cry. “It’s murder! I demand a trial, a lawyer; for God’s sake, man, you can’t just throw me overboard, we’re not barbarians...!”
“You leave me no choice,” Harris snaps back, eyes cold as gun-metal. “You and your damn cyphers. Your damn clever problems. If men like you didn’t exist, if we could just all be straight with one another.” He gets to his feet and heads for the door. “I fear for the future of this world, with men like you in. Reich or no Reich, Mr Manning, people like you simply complicate matters.”
Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
“I’m looking forward to having a wash and a change of clothes; which should make a little less evil to be around.”
“Very droll,” he replies. “Let me tell you what happened this morning, and see if it takes the smile off your face. Our men watching Hooper’s tent saw Hooper wake up, get dressed, clamber out of his tent and then remark with surprise as, while looking for his shoes, he stumbled on something just at the entrance of his tent.”
Enough of this. There isn’t any time to lose. Right now they’ll be following Hooper as he goes to bed, and goes to sleep; and then that’s it. The minute he closes his eyelids and drifts off that’s the moment that this trap swings shut on me.
So I punch out the glass with my bucket and it shatters with a terrific noise. Then I stop, and wait, to see if anyone will come in through the door.
Nothing.
I go over to the window and try to jimmy it open. Not much luck, but in my struggling I notice this window only backs on the thin little brook that runs down the back of the compound. Which means, if I smashed it, I might get away with no-one seeing.
From outside, I hear a voice. Hooper’s. He’s haranguing someone, for something.
The bunk has a solid metal frame, a blanket, a pillow, nothing more.
“No, Harris. The young man wasn’t blackmailing me.” I take a deep breath. “It was Hooper.”
“Hooper!” Harris exclaims, in surprise.
“It’s the truth, Harris. If I’m going to jail, then so be it, but I won’t hang at Traitor’s Gate. Hooper was the one who told the boy about our work. Hooper put the boy on to me. And then, once he had me compromised, he demanded I steal the part from the machine.”
“Which you did.” Harris leans forward. “And then what? You still have it? You put it somewhere?”
“An accident, naturally.” I risk a smile. “That damned machine, Harris; it’s made from spare parts and string. Even these huts leak when it rains. It wouldn’t take more than one fellow to trip over a cable to shake out a component and have it roll away across the floor. Have you tried looking under the thing?”
Harris doesn’t smile. “Do you suppose we haven’t? Do you supposed we haven’t combed every inch of this place already?”
In a sudden moment I understand that his reply is a threat.
“Now,” he continues. “Are you sure there isn’t anything you want to tell me?”
I pat down my pockets but all I’m carrying is the intercept, which is no good at all.
I creep forward to the tent, intent on lifting the zip to the front porch area just a little - enough to slip the component inside, and without the risk of the noise waking Hooper from his snoring.
The work is careful, and more than little fiddly - Hooper has tied the zips down on the inside, the fastidious little bastard! - but after a little work I manage to make a hole large enough for my hand.
“None of us are blameless, Harris. But I’ve done nothing to deserve this treatment. Now, please. Let me go. I’ll help you find this damn component, of course I will.”
He appears to consider the offer.
“Tell me, then,” he asks. “What’s your theory? You’re a smart fellow - as smart as they come around here, and that’s saying something. What’s your opinion on the missing component? Accident, perhaps? Or do you blame one of the other men?”
“Well?”
“We’ll be outside the door,” Harris replies, seriously. “The first sign of any funny business and we’ll have you both on the floor in minutes. You understand? The country needs your brain, but it’s not too worried about your legs. Remember that.”
Then he gets to his feet, and opens the door, and marches me out and across the yard. The evening is drawing in and there’s a chill in the air. My mind is racing. I have one opportunity here - a moment in which to put the fear of God into Hooper and make him do something foolish to place himself in harm’s way. But how to achieve it?
“You ready?” Harris demands.
“I’m not saying anything of the sort,” I snap back. “What is this, Harris? You’re accusing me of treachery but I don’t see a shred of evidence for it! Why don’t you put your cards on the table?”
“It’s simple enough,” Harris replies. “I’ve seen the same story a hundred times before,” he says. “A young man like yourself - clever, somewhat removed from the world. The kind that doesn’t go to parties, you might say. Who takes himself a little too seriously, perhaps. Takes things too far. Further than a man should allow a thing to go. That’s the story, isn’t it? You took things too far, and then you couldn’t take them back. And now they have you.”
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
I go over to the window and try to jimmy it open. Not much luck, but in my struggling I notice this window only backs on the thin little brook that runs down the back of the compound. Which means, if I smashed it, I might get away with no-one seeing.
“I know where it is.”
Harris stares back at me.
“I see.” There’s a long pause, like the endless delay between feeding in a line of cypher to the Bombe and waiting for its valves and cylinders to heat up enough to being processing. “Would you like to explain?”
The blanket. Perfect. I scoop it up off the bed and hold it in place over the window. This should do it. Then I heft the bucket - this really is quite a fiddly thing to be doing, and I need far longer arms, especially in cuffs - and take a strong swing, trying to imagine it’s Harris’ face on the other side.
The sound of the impact is muffled. With my arm still covered, I sweep out the remaining glass in the frame. I’m ready to escape. The only trouble is - when they look in on me in the morning, there will be no question what has happened. It won’t help me one jot with shifting suspicion off my back.
“Ask not for whom the bell tolls!”
He stares back at me, as if were a madman and perhaps for a split second I see him shudder.
The Captain comes outside, pulling the door to. “What’s this?” he asks. “A confession? Just like that?”
“No,” the Commander admits, in a low voice. “I’m afraid not. Rather more a scheme. The idea is to let Hooper go and see what he does. If he believes we have Manning here in irons, he’ll try to shift the component.”
“If he has it.”
“Indeed.”
The Captain peers at me for a moment, like I was some kind of curious insect.
“Sometimes, I think you people are magicians,” he remarks. “Other times you seem more like witches. Very well.”
With that he opens the door to the Hut and goes back inside. The Commander uses the moment to hustle me roughly forward.
“And what was all that shouting about?” he hisses in my ear as we move towards the barracks. “Are you trying to pull something? Or just make me look incompetent?”
“Well, I’m glad his conscience finally caught up with him,” I reply dismissively.
“The Captain went back into that hut and he confessed immediately. We were so surprised we didn’t let you go.” He wrinkles his nose. “I’m rather sorry about that now, but I suppose we’ll let you go know. I suggest you have a wash.”
And with that he gestures to the doorway.
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
“Yes, I considered it. He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
I take the cup, and raise it to my lips, blowing away the steam. It is too hot to drink. He picks his own up and just holds it.
“Quite a difficult situation, this,” he begins, cautiously. I’ve seen him adopting this stiff tone of voice before, but only when talking to brass. “I’m sure you agree.”
“He has? I knew he would. The worm.”
“Steady now. Matters aren’t over yet. There’s still the issue of the component. It hasn’t turned up. He didn’t lead us to it. I guess he figured you must have had something on him. I don’t know.”
He looks quite put out by the whole affair. He is not the kind of man to deal well with ambiguities and probabilities, far preferred the clarity of fact and falsehood.
The bucket? Hardly. The bucket might do some good if I wanted to sweep up the glass afterwards, but it won’t help me smash the glass quietly.
The rest of the night passes slowly. I sleep a little, dozing mostly. Then I’m woken by the rooster in the yard. The door opens, and Harris comes in. He takes one look at the broken window and frowns with puzzlement.
“What happened there?”
I put my ear down to the keyhole, but there’s nothing now. Probably still a guard outside, of course, but they’re keeping mum.
Still there means no-one has found it, which means it is probably well-hidden. And short of skipping the compound now, I can afford to leave it hidden there a while longer. So I leave it in place.
Where now?
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
I shrug, eloquently.
“This is all too far-fetched,” Harris says. “I’m glad to have this back, but I need to think.”
Getting to his feet, he nods once. “You’ll have to wait a little longer, I’m afraid, Manning.”
Then he steps out of the door, muttering to himself.
The blanket. Perfect. I scoop it up off the bed and hold it in place over the window. This should do it. Then I heft the bucket - this really is quite a fiddly thing to be doing, and I need far longer arms, especially in cuffs - and take a strong swing, trying to imagine it’s Harris’ face on the other side.
The sound of the impact is muffled. With my arm still covered, I sweep out the remaining glass in the frame. I’m ready to escape. The only trouble is - when they look in on me in the morning, there will be no question what has happened. It won’t help me one jot with shifting suspicion off my back.
“I can imagine how being surrounded by clever men is pretty threatening for you, Commander,” I reply with a sneer. “They don’t train you to think in the Armed Forces.”
“Talk,” Harris demands. “Talk, now. Tell me where you’ve hidden it or who you’ve passed it to. Or God help me, but I’ll take your wretched pansy body to pieces looking for it, do you understand me?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
I suppose my fist would do a good enough job. But I’d cut myself to ribbons, most likely. And the noise would be terrible. There must be a way of making this easier. I’m supposed to be a thief now. What would a burglar do?
“So would you after the night I’ve had.”
“Well, I’m afraid it is going to get worse for you,” Harris replies soberly. “We followed Hooper, and he took himself neatly to bed and slept like a boy scout. Which puts us back to square one, and you firmly in the frame. And I’m afraid I don’t have time for any more games. I want you to tell me where that component is, or we will hang you as a traitor.”
He passes a hand across his eyes with a long look of despair.
“I’m going to go outside and organise a rope. That’ll take about twelve minutes. That’s how long you have to decide.”
“No. I have no idea.”
He’s talking about the missing reel from the Bombe. Russell discovered it this afternoon when the machine began producing strange results. We were all in the Hut when it happened and it had been in place when we sat down to work. The conclusions had been obvious to all four of us immediately, but had gone undiscussed, even after the empty socket was located, the wiring torn on either side.
“Lucky these things are easy to replace,” Russell had remarked, and that had been that. We had stopped work, sent out for a new part to be machined. And drunk our tea and watched each other.
“Come now,” Harris says, quite the reasonable gent. “As I told you. We’re not interviewing everyone. Only you. So. I think you can be a little more forthcoming.”
I shift in my seat. “Not really. The boy was a simpleton, obviously. My intellectual inferior. His good opinion meant nothing to be. Harris, please do not misunderstand me. I was simply after his body.”
Harris, to his credit, doesn’t flinch. Well, perhaps not: but he’ll have nightmares of this moment tonight. I’m almost tempted to reach out and try to take his hand to worsen it for him, but I hold back.
“Go on with your confession,” he replies. I shrug.
“There’s not much else to say. I took the part from Bombe computing device. You seem to know that already. I had to. He was going to expose me if I didn’t.”
“This young man was blackmailing you over your affair?”
No time to waste. I drop to my knees and check the breeze-block. Sure enough, there’s nothing there. Hooper took the bait.
Suddenly, there’s a movement behind me. I look up to see, first a snub pistol, and then, Harris.
“Messy without one missing whatever it was,” he declares. “I wouldn’t have fathomed it but Hooper did. Explained it right after we sprung him doing what you’re doing now. We weren’t sure what to believe but now, you seem to have resolved that for us.”
“I was quite certain, after a while. After we’d been talking. He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
“Well, I’m glad his conscience finally caught up with him,” I reply dismissively.
“The Captain went back into that hut and he confessed immediately. We were so surprised we didn’t let you go.” He wrinkles his nose. “I’m rather sorry about that now, but I suppose we’ll let you go know. I suggest you have a wash.”
And with that he gestures to the doorway.
“Then you know I’m right. You knew all along. Why did you threaten me?”
“We don’t know anything, except that we have a traitor, holding the fate of the country in their hands. No-one here is in the business of guessing, you know that. Our business is to decode. To get to the bottom of whatever’s going on. You’ve not placed yourself beyond suspicion and until you do so...” Harris shrugs. “I’m afraid I have fewer and fewer choices as time goes on. If that component has left these grounds then every minute is critical.”
“What could I do?” I’m shaking now. The night is cold and the heat-lamp in this hut has been removed, presumably to keep me alert and on edge. “I don’t want to go to prison.”
“You committed a crime,” Harris answers. If I had any sense that he understood my predicament, and that he felt for my state of being, it collapses like a chain with a broken link. “You thought you could repair it with another, more serious crime?” He shakes his head. “I thought you men were supposed to be clever. But this is the action of a frightened woman. So I’d like you to tell me, now. Where is it?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
“I did. I know what you’re thinking. If I’ve transgressed once then I must be the guilty man for all the crimes in this compound... But I’m not, I tell you. We were close to cracking the 13th’s missive; trying our latest pattern and beginning to see some correlations in the data - and then Hooper disappeared for a moment and the machine went down.”
I have become, somehow, an accustomed liar - the words roll easily off my tongue. Perhaps I am a traitor, I think, now that I dissemble as easily as one.
“Go on,” Harris says, giving me no indication of whether he believes my tale.
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
Ah, but of course! I slip off one shoe and heft it by the toe. The heel will make a decent enough hammer, if I give it enough wallop.
But I’ll cut my hand to ribbons doing it. And the noise would be terrible. There must be a way of making this easier. I’m supposed to be a thief now. What would a burglar do?
I creep forward to the tent, intent on lifting the zip to the front porch area just a little - enough to slip the component inside, and without the risk of the noise waking Hooper from his snoring.
The work is careful, and more than little fiddly - Hooper has tied the zips down on the inside, the fastidious little bastard! - but after a little work I manage to make a hole large enough for my hand.
“All right,” he declares, gruffly. “We’ll try it. But if this doesn’t work, I might just put the both of you in front of a firing squad and be done with these games. Worse things happen in time of war, you know.”
“Alone,” I add.
“Alone?”
“Alone.”
Harris considers it. I watch his eyes, flicking backwards and forwards over mine, like a ribbon-reader trying to load in its program.
But of course I will. A little vengeance, disguised as doing something good.
Harris put the cuffs around my wrists. “I still have the intercept in my pocket,” I remark. “Wherever we’re going, could I have a pencil?”
He looks me in the eye.
“I’ll give you a stone to chisel notches in the wall. And that’s all the calculations you’ll be doing. And as you sit there, pissing into a bucket and growing a beard down to your toes, you have a think about how a smart man would conduct his illicit affairs. With a bit of due decorum you could have learnt off any squaddie. You scientists.” He drags me up to my feet. “You think you have to re-invent everything.”
With that, he hustles me out of the door and I can’t help thinking that, with a little more strategy, I could still have won the day. But too late now, of course.
I cast around the small room. There’s a bucket in one corner for emergencies - I suppose I could use that. I pick it up but it’s not very easy to heft. And the noise would be terrible. There must be a way of making this easier. I’m supposed to be a thief now. What would a burglar do?
I suppose I do not believe they will hang me. They will lock me up and continue to use my brain, if they can. I wonder what they will tell the world - perhaps that I have taken my own life. That would be simplest. The few who know me would believe it.
Well, then. Not a bad existence, in prison. Removed from temptation. A kind of imposed monasticism, with plenty more problems to solve, and more mysteries to fathom.
I wonder what else I might yet unravel before I’m done?
I hang back a moment. Something does not seem quite right. After all, Hooper did not steal the component. He has no reason to confess to anything. Perhaps this is another trap?
“Well?” Harris asks. “What are you waiting for? Please don’t tell me you want to confess now as well, I don’t think my head could stand it.”
I suppose my fist would do a good enough job. But I’d cut myself to ribbons, most likely. And the noise would be terrible. There must be a way of making this easier. I’m supposed to be a thief now. What would a burglar do?
“Well, then,” I answer, nervously. “What would he do? Either get rid of it straight away - or if that wasn’t possible, which it probably wouldn’t be, since he’d have to arrange things with his contacts - so most likely, he’d hide it somewhere and wait, until you had the rope around my neck and he could be sure he was safe.”
“Makes sense,” Harris agrees, cautiously. I can see he’s still not certain whether he can trust me. “Which means the question is, what can we do to rat him out?”
The bunk has a solid metal frame, a blanket, a pillow, nothing more.
I pause for a moment longer. It doesn’t do to be too careless...
Then the door locks turns. The door opens. Then Jeremy - one of the guards, rather - sticks his head through the door. “I thought I heard...”
He stops. Looks for a moment. Sees the broken window. Then without a moment’s further thought he blows his shrill whistles and hustles into the hut, grabbing me roughly by my arms.
I’ll never know if I hadn’t have waited that extra moment - maybe I still could have got away. But, how far?
I’m hustled into one of the huts. Nowhere to sleep, but they’re not interested in my comfort any longer. Harris comes in with the Captain.
“So,” Harris remarks. “Looks like your little trap worked. Only it worked to show you out for what you are.”
“Right now, I think you take that role, Harris,” I reply coolly.
“Very droll,” he replies. “Let me tell you what happened this morning, and see if it takes the smile off your face. Our men watching Hooper’s tent saw Hooper wake up, get dressed, clamber out of his tent and then remark with surprise as, while looking for his shoes, he stumbled on something just at the entrance of his tent.”
The rest of the night passes slowly. I sleep a little, dozing mostly. Then I’m woken by the rooster in the yard. The door opens, and Harris comes in. He takes one look at the broken window and frowns with puzzlement.
“What happened there?”
It’s useless. There’s nothing I can do but hope. I sit down on one corner of the bunk to wait.
Night falls. The clockwork of the heavens keeps turning, whatever state I might be in. No-one can steal the components that make the sun go down and the stars come out. I watch it performing its operations. I can’t sleep.
“I’m not trying to do anything except save my neck.”
“Let’s hope things work out,” Harris agrees darkly.
He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. I can only hope that Hooper bites on my baited hook. If he thinks I’m mad and bitter enough to have framed him somehow, and arrogant enough to have taunted him with a clue to where the damning evidence is hidden... if he hates me enough, and is paranoid enough, then he might unravel my little riddle and go searching around Hut 2.
Thinking back, I should have wrapped the part from the Bombe in one of his shirts before hiding it, that would have been a clever move. I really do make a terrible spy.
If I leave the component here somewhere it should be somewhere I can rely on Hooper finding it, but no-one before Hooper. In particular.
“I am what I am,” I reply. “I’m the way nature made me. But they’re going to hang me unless you help me, Hooper. Don’t let them hang me.”
“Assuming I wanted to help you,” he replies, carefully. “Which I don’t. What would I do?”
“Nothing. Almost nothing.
All you have to do is go to the back of Hut 2. There’s a breeze-block with a cavity. That’s where I’ve put it. I’ll be locked up overnight, I should think. But you can pick it up and pass it to my contact. He’ll be at the south fence around two AM."
“If you think I’ll do that then you’re crazy,” Hooper replies.
At that moment the door flies open and the Captain comes storming back inside.
Harris hustles me over to the barracks. “I hope that’s the end of it,” he mutters as he pushes me up the steps.
“Just be sure to let him out,” I reply. “And then see where he goes.”
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
“For God’s sake,” I answer, voice quivering. “I’m no traitor.”
He stares back at me. “Let’s get straight to the point. Do you have the component?” Harris demands. “Do you know where it is?”
The bucket? Hardly. The bucket might do some good if I wanted to sweep up the glass afterwards, but it won’t help me smash the glass quietly.
I put my ear down to the keyhole, but there’s nothing now. Probably still a guard outside, of course, but they’re keeping mum.
“Yes, I considered it. He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
“All right,” he declares, gruffly. “We’ll try it. But if this doesn’t work, I might just put the both of you in front of a firing squad and be done with these games. Worse things happen in time of war, you know.”
“Alone,” I add.
“Alone?”
“Alone.”
Harris considers it. I watch his eyes, flicking backwards and forwards over mine, like a ribbon-reader trying to load in its program.
“None of us are blameless, Harris. But you’re not my priest and I’m not yours. Now, please. Let me go. I’ll help you find this damn component, of course I will.”
He appears to consider the offer.
“Tell me, then,” he asks. “What’s your theory? You’re a smart fellow - as smart as they come around here, and that’s saying something. What’s your opinion on the missing component? Accident, perhaps? Or do you blame one of the other men? Hooper?”
“No. Not for more than a moment, of course. Everyone here is marked out by how little we would be willing to say about it.”
“Only you told this young man more than a little, didn’t you?”
I nod. “He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
“I don’t know.”
“You can do better than that. Remember, there’s a hangman’s noose waiting for traitors.”
“I’ve done nothing that I’m ashamed of.”
“Tell me, then,” he asks. “What’s your theory? You’re a smart fellow - as smart as they come around here, and that’s saying something. What’s your opinion on the missing component? Accident, perhaps? Or do you blame one of the other men? Hooper?”
I put my ear down to the keyhole, but there’s nothing now. Probably still a guard outside, of course, but they’re keeping mum.
“Now steady on,” I reply, gesturing for him to calm himself.
“Talk,” Harris demands. “Talk, now. Tell me where you’ve hidden it or who you’ve passed it to. Or God help me, but I’ll take your wretched pansy body to pieces looking for it, do you understand me?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
“I’m no traitor, damn it. You know I’m not. How much work have I done here? Against the Germans? Cracking their codes? Understanding their secrets? I’ve given it my all! And you know as well as I do, if the Reich were to invade, I would be a dead man for being what I am. So please, Hooper. I’m not doing any of this lightly. But I’m in a jam!”
“Assuming I wanted to help you,” he replies, carefully. “Which I don’t. What would I do?”
“Nothing. Almost nothing.
All you have to do is go to the back of Hut 2. There’s a breeze-block with a cavity. That’s where I’ve put it. I’ll be locked up overnight, I should think. But you can pick it up and pass it to my contact. He’ll be at the south fence around two AM."
“If you think I’ll do that then you’re crazy,” Hooper replies.
At that moment the door flies open and the Captain comes storming back inside.
Harris hustles me over to the barracks. “I hope that’s the end of it,” he mutters as he pushes me up the steps.
“Just be sure to let him out,” I reply. “And then see where he goes.”
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
“I suppose I do rather.” I laugh, but Harris does not.
“This damn business gets worse and worse,” he says, talking as he goes over to unlock and throw open the window. “Hooper’s confessed, you know.”
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
“No. I passed it on to Hooper.”
“I see. And what did he do with it?”
I slip off my jacket and hold it with one hand over the glass. This should do it. Then I heft the bucket - this really is quite a fiddly thing to be doing, and I need far longer arms, especially in cuffs - and take a strong swing, trying to imagine it’s Harris’ face on the other side.
The sound of the impact is muffled. With my arm still covered, I sweep out the remaining glass in the frame. I’m ready to escape. The only trouble is - when they look in on me in the morning, there will be no question what has happened. It won’t help me one jot with shifting suspicion off my back.
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
“I’m fine,” I reply. “This is all some misunderstanding and the quicker we have it cleared up the better.”
“I couldn’t agree more.” And then he comes right out with it, with an accusation. “Let’s get straight to the point. Do you have the component?” Harris demands. “Do you know where it is?”
“Very well then.” I swallow nervously, to make it look more genuine. “No. I passed it on to Hooper.”
“I see. And what did he do with it?”
The bunk has a solid metal frame, a blanket, a pillow, nothing more.
I peer out of the window, but it looks out onto the little brook at the back of the compound, with no view of the other huts or the House. Who knows if there are men up, searching the base of Hut 2, following one another with flashlights...
The night draws on at its own pace. I suppose by morning I will know my fate.
“I’m not saying anything of the sort,” I snap back. “What is this, Harris? You’re accusing me of treachery but I don’t see a shred of evidence for it! Why don’t you put your cards on the table?”
“It’s simple enough,” Harris replies. “I’ve seen the same story a hundred times before,” he says. “A young man like yourself - clever, somewhat removed from the world. The kind that doesn’t go to parties, you might say. Who takes himself a little too seriously, perhaps. Takes things too far. Further than a man should allow a thing to go. That’s the story, isn’t it? You took things too far, and then you couldn’t take them back. And now they have you.”
“You want me to tell you what happened? You’ll be disgusted, I’m quite sure.”
“I can imagine how it starts,” he growls.
“There was a young man, Harris. I met him in the town. A few months ago now. We got to talking - not about work. I said I was an accountant for a firm, just as I was supposed to. Although he seemed to know that wasn’t true. That got me wondering if he wasn’t one of us.”
Harris is not letting me off any more. “You seriously considered that possibility?”
I suppose this must be what it feels like to have a conscience, then. Very well.
“Harris, sir. I don’t know what Hooper’s playing at, sir. But I can’t let him do this.”
“Do what?”
“Take the rope for this. I took it, sir.
The missing component of the Bombe computer is hidden in a small cavity in a breeze-block supporting the left rear post of Hut 2. I put in there anticipating a search. I intended to dispose of it once the fuss had died down. I suppose I was foolish to think that it might."
“I thought as much. I hadn’t expected you to give it out so easily, however. You understand, Hooper has said nothing, of course. In fact, he went to Hut 2 directly after we released him and uncovered the component. But he told us you had instructed him where to go. Hence my little double bluff. Frankly, I’ll be glad when I’m shot of the lot of you mathematicians.”
Harris stands, and slips away smartly. Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
Making a wide circuit I creep around the tent. It has plenty of other flaps and openings, tied down with Gordian complexity. But nothing afford itself to slipping the component inside.
“No. I have no idea.”
“Come now,” Harris says, quite the reasonable gent. “I think you can be a little more forthcoming.”
“What could I do?” I’m shaking now. The night is cold and the heat-lamp in this hut has been removed, presumably to keep me alert and on edge. “I don’t want to go to prison.”
“You committed a crime,” Harris answers. If I had any sense that he understood my predicament, and that he felt for my state of being, it collapses like a chain with a broken link. “You thought you could repair it with another, more serious crime?” He shakes his head. “I thought you men were supposed to be clever. But this is the action of a frightened woman. So I’d like you to tell me, now. Where is it?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
I wait a few minutes, to be sure Hooper and the Captain will have gone, then try the door. It’s locked, all right. I’m not really one for picking locks. Never tried it. I don’t think I’ll be getting out that way.
“I’ve done nothing that I’m ashamed of.”
“Tell me, then,” he asks. “What’s your theory? You’re a smart fellow - as smart as they come around here, and that’s saying something. What’s your opinion on the missing component? Accident, perhaps? Or do you blame one of the other men? Hooper?”
I have in my head to blame Hooper, but somehow I cannot find a way to tell the story. Whatever they put in my tea, it has control of my tongue. Fighting as hard as I can, it does no good. I find myself collapsing, desperate to tell him everything, almost weeping with the shame of it.
“There was a young man, Harris. I met him in the town. A few months ago now. We got to talking - not about work, you understand. I said I was an accountant for a firm, just as I was supposed to. Although he seemed to know that wasn’t true. That got me wondering if he wasn’t one of us.”
Harris is not letting me off any more. “You seriously considered that possibility?”
“Very well then.” I swallow nervously, to make it look more genuine. “No. I passed it on to Hooper.”
“I see. And what did he do with it?”
I let him have his rant. He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
The blanket. Perfect. I scoop it up off the bed and hold it in place over the window. This should do it. Then I heft my shoe by its toe, and take a strong swing, trying to imagine it’s Harris’ face on the other side.
The sound of the impact is muffled. With my arm still covered, I sweep out the remaining glass in the frame. I’m ready to escape. The only trouble is - when they look in on me in the morning, there will be no question what has happened. It won’t help me one jot with shifting suspicion off my back.
“No. I passed it on to Hooper.”
“I see. And what did he do with it?”
I say nothing, my lips tightly, firmly sealed. It’s true I am a traitor, to the very laws of nature. The world has taught me that since a very early age. But not to my country - should the Reich win this war, I would hardly be treated as an honoured hero. I was doomed from the very start.
I explain none of this. How could a man like Harris understand?
The Commander takes one look back from the doorway as he pulls it to.
“It’s been a pleasure working with you, Mr Manning,” he declares. “You’ve done a great service to this country. If we come through, I’m sure they’ll remember you name. I’m sorry it had to end this way and I’ll do my best to keep it quiet. No-one need know what you did.”
Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
If I leave the component here somewhere it should be somewhere I can rely on Hooper finding it, but no-one before Hooper. In particular.
I let him have his rant. He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. I can only hope that Hooper bites on my baited hook. If he thinks I’m mad and bitter enough to have framed him somehow, and arrogant enough to have taunted him with a clue to where the damning evidence is hidden... if he hates me enough, and is paranoid enough, then he might unravel my little riddle and go searching around Hut 2.
Thinking back, I should have wrapped the part from the Bombe in one of his shirts before hiding it, that would have been a clever move. I really do make a terrible spy.
“I know nothing about it.” My voice is shaking as I try to speak. I’m not accustomed to facing off against the Commander - against any man with a gun in his holster. “I don’t know what gives you the right to pick on me. Shouldn’t I have a lawyer?”
“This is time of war,” Harris answers. His tone of voice has fallen down into darkness. “And by God, if I have to shoot you to recover the component or stop it falling into the wrong hands, I will, do you understand me?”
There’s an icy silence. He’s angry at my slippery answers. He waves an impetuous hand across the field table.
“Now, drink your tea and talk.”
“No. Not for more than a moment, of course. Everyone here is marked out by how little we would be willing to say about it.”
“Only you told this young man more than a little, didn’t you?”
I nod. “He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
Work carefully? It’s difficult to work carefully when all one’s has is a bucket. It’s rather like the sledgehammer for the proverbial nut.
I have no God to make peace with. I find it difficult to believe in goodness of any kind, in a world such as this.
But I am no traitor. At least, not to my country. To my sex, perhaps. But how could I support the Reich? If it were to come to power, I would be worse off than under the already dire circumstances of my existence.
I have no place here. No way to fit. I am the intercept - caught, in the middle, cryptic and understood only thinly, through devices and machines.
“Someone threw this in through the window over night,” I reply, and open my jacket to reveal the component from the Bombe. “I couldn’t see who, it was too dark. But I know what it is.”
He reaches out and takes it. “Well, I’ll be damned,” he murmurs. “That’s it all right. And you didn’t have it on you when we put you in here. But it can’t have been Hooper - I had men watching him all night. And there’s no-one else it could have been.”
He turns the component over in his hands, bemused.
“I don’t need twelve minutes. The component is in the long grass behind Hooper’s tent. I threw it there hoping to somehow frame him, but now I see that won’t be possible. I was naive, I suppose.”
“Indeed you were. And, Mr Manning: God help you if you’re lying to me.”
Harris stands, and slips away smartly. Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
I leave the cup exactly where it is. “Why?” I ask coldly. “What’s in it?”
“Lapsang Souchong,” he remarks, placing his own cup down on the table with a clink. “Such a curious flavour. It might almost not be tea at all. You might say it hides a multitude of sins. As do you, isn’t that correct?”
“I know nothing about it.” My voice is shaking with anger as I try to speak. I’m not accustomed to facing off against the Commander - against any man with a gun in his holster. “I don’t know what gives you the right to pick on me. I demand a lawyer.”
“This is time of war,” Harris answers. His tone of voice has fallen down into darkness. “And by God, if I have to shoot you to recover the component or stop it falling into the wrong hands, I will, do you understand me?”
There’s an icy silence. He’s angry. He waves an impetuous hand across the field table.
“Now, drink your tea and talk.”
In case I’m being followed, I divert around the perimeter of the compound. It’s a much longer path, and it takes me across some terrain that’s difficult to negotiate in the dark - muddy, and thick with thistles and nestles.
Still, I can be confident no-one is following, as I hear nothing. I crouch down behind the rear wall of Hut 2. The component is still there, wrapped in a tea-towel and shoved into a cavity in a breeze-block at the base of the Hut wall.
“Yes. Something like that. It’s a very lonely life otherwise. And the work we do - well. It only makes it worse. There’s barely a moment to oneself.”
“That’s how it is in the Service,” Harris answers. “I know you didn’t sign up for it but, well. There’s plenty of other men who didn’t who are serving now, too. Now, go on with your confession.”
That gives me pause, for a moment. I hadn’t thought of it as such. But I suppose that’s what this is. I am about to admit what I did, after all.
“There’s not much else to say. I took the part from Bombe computing device. You seem to know that already. I had to. He was going to expose me if I didn’t.”
“This young man was blackmailing you over your affair?”
Next. To Hooper’s dorm. Time to wrap up this little game once and for all.
I creep around the outside of the Huts. All are quiet, steel-grey in the hazy moonlight; a few shining copper from arc-lamps strung from the trees. A few guards patrol the area at night but not many - after all, very few know this place even exists.
Our quarters are arranged away from the House; where we sleep is of less importance than where we work. We each have our own Hut, through some are less permanent than other’s. Hooper’s is a military issue tent: quite a large canopy, with two rooms inside and a short porch area where he insists people leave their shoes. It’s all zipped up for the night and no light shines from inside.
I hang back for a moment. If Harris is keeping to the terms of our deal then someone will be watching this place. But I can see no-one.
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
“When you have eliminated the impossible...” I begin, but Harris cuts me off.
“We are left with two possibilities, quite clearly. You, or Hooper.” The Commander pauses to smooth down his moustache. “Hooper’s in Hut 3 with the Captain, having a similar conversation.”
“We’re still in ear-shot if they let Hooper go. Best get us inside and then we can talk, if we must.”
“I’ve had enough of your voice for one day,” Harris replies grimly. He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
“The component?”
“Yes,” Harris replies levelly. “The component.”
“Well, as soon as it went missing the machine started to malfunction. We recognised the discrepancies in our results straight away...”
“Come now,” Harris says, quite the reasonable gent. “I think you can be a little more forthcoming.”
“Yes. Probably under my bunk.”
Harris smiles wryly. “We’ll know that for a fake, then. We’ve looked there already. I don’t mind telling you, this is a disaster, this whole thing. What I want is to find that little bit of mechanical trickery anywhere. I don’t care where. In your luncheon box or under Hooper’s pillow, whatever. Just somewhere, and within the grounds of this place.”
I shift in my seat. “Not really. The boy was a simpleton, obviously. My intellectual inferior. His good opinion meant nothing to be. Harris, please do not misunderstand me. I was simply after his body.”
Harris, to his credit, doesn’t flinch. Well, perhaps not: but he’ll have nightmares of this moment tonight. I’m almost tempted to reach out and try to take his hand to worsen it for him, but I hold back.
“Go on with your confession,” he replies. I shrug.
“There’s not much else to say. I took the part from Bombe computing device. You seem to know that already. I had to. He was going to expose me if I didn’t.”
“This young man was blackmailing you over your affair?”
“I am what I am,” I reply. “I’m the way nature made me. But they’re going to hang me unless you help me, Hooper. Don’t let them hang me.”
“Assuming I wanted to help you,” he replies, carefully. “Which I don’t. What would I do?”
“Nothing. Almost nothing.
All you have to do is go to the back of Hut 2. There’s a breeze-block with a cavity. That’s where I’ve put it. I’ll be locked up overnight, I should think. But you can pick it up and pass it to my contact. He’ll be at the south fence around two AM."
“If you think I’ll do that then you’re crazy,” Hooper replies.
At that moment the door flies open and the Captain comes storming back inside.
Harris hustles me over to the barracks. “I hope that’s the end of it,” he mutters as he pushes me up the steps.
“Just be sure to let him out,” I reply. “And then see where he goes.”
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
“I certainly don’t. But still, I’m surprised. I had Hooper down for a full-blown double agent, a traitor. He knows he’ll face the rope, doesn’t he?”
“Don’t ask me to explain why he did what he did,” Harris sighs. “Just be grateful that he did, and you’re now off the hook.”
Curiouser and curiouser. I nod once to Harris and slip outside into the cold morning air.
Hooper’s confession only makes sense in one fashion, and that is his being dim-witted and slow. Or perhaps he knew he would be followed if he went to check, and decided he would be doomed either way.
Of course, however, there is only one way to be certain that Harris is telling the truth, and that is to find a quiet moment and check the breeze-block at the back of Hut 2.
Then pause. This is too transparent. Too blatant. If I leave it here, like this, Hooper will never be seen to go looking for it: he will stumble over it in plain sight, and the men watching will wonder why it was not there when he went to bed.
No, I must try something else - or nothing at all.
“No, I suppose not.” I push the teacup around on its base. “All I can say is, ever since I arrived here, he’s been looking to ways to bring me down a peg. I wouldn’t be surprised if he set this whole affair up just to have me court-martialled.”
“We don’t court-martial civilians,” Harris replies. “Traitors are simply hung at her Majesty’s pleasure.”
“The component?”
“Yes,” Harris replies levelly. “The component that went missing this afternoon. I doubt that you’ve forgotten.”
He’s talking about the missing reel from the Bombe. Russell discovered it this afternoon when the machine began producing strange results. We were all in the Hut when it happened and it had been in place when we sat down to work. The conclusions had been obvious to all four of us immediately, but had gone undiscussed, even after the empty socket was located, the wiring torn on either side.
“Lucky these things are easy to replace,” Russell had remarked, and that had been that. We had stopped work, sent out for a new part to be machined. And drunk our tea and watched each other.
“Come now,” Harris says, quite the reasonable gent. “As I told you. We’re not interviewing everyone. Only you. So. I think you can be a little more forthcoming.”
“I don’t know.”
“You can do better than that. Remember, there’s a hangman’s noose waiting for traitors.”
I wait a few minutes, to be sure the Commander will have gone, then try the door. It’s locked, all right. I’m not really one for picking locks. Never tried it. I don’t think I’ll be getting out that way.
From outside, I hear a voice. Hooper’s. He’s haranguing someone, for something.
I pat down my pockets but all I’m carrying is the intercept, which is no good at all.
I put my ear down to the keyhole, but there’s nothing now. Probably still a guard outside, of course, but they’re keeping mum.
I creep forward to the tent, intent on lifting the zip to the front porch area just a little - enough to slip the component inside, and without the risk of the noise waking Hooper from his snoring.
The work is careful, and more than little fiddly - Hooper has tied the zips down on the inside, the fastidious little bastard! - but after a little work I manage to make a hole large enough for my hand.
“It doesn’t matter. Just remember what I said. I’ve beaten you, Hooper. Remember that.”
I get to my feet and open the door of the Hut. The Captain storms back inside and I’m quickly thrown out. Harris hustles me over to the barracks. “I hope that’s the end of it,” he mutters as he pushes me up the steps.
“Just be sure to let him out,” I reply. “And then see where he goes.”
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. Thinking back, I should have wrapped the part from the Bombe in one of his shirts before hiding it, that would have been a clever move. I really do make a terrible spy.
“I don’t know.”
“You can do better than that. Remember, there’s a hangman’s noose waiting for traitors.”
“The Captain thought it was a good scheme. You’ll most likely get a promotion.”
“Let’s hope things work out,” Harris agrees darkly.
He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
“Please, Hooper. You don’t understand what’s at stake. They have information on me. What I’ve done. I don’t need to tell you what I’ve done, you know. I know you do. And I know you think it’s wrong, but please man, have a soul. They were going to ruin me. And the component - it’s nothing. It’s not the secret of the Bombe, or even of what we’re doing here. It’s just a part. The German’s think it’s a weapon - a missile component or a detonator. Let them have it! Please, man. Just help me.”
“Help you?” Hooper stares, as I have gone mad. “Help you? You’re a traitor, Iain. You’re a traitor. A snake in the grass. And you’re queer.”
“Well, then,” I answer, nervously. “What would he do? Either get rid of it straight away - or if that wasn’t possible, which it probably wouldn’t be, since he’d have to arrange things with his contacts - so most likely, he’d hide it somewhere and wait, until you had the rope around my neck and he could be sure he was safe.”
“Makes sense,” Harris agrees, cautiously. I can see he’s still not entirely convinced by my tale, as well he might not be - I’ve hardly been entirely straight with him. “Which means the question is, what can we do to rat him out?”
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
“Awkward,” I reply, looking him straight in the eye.
His gaze is unexpressive: I’ve seen Harris broad and full of laughter, but today he is rigid, as much part of the military machine as the devices in Hut 5.
“There really isn’t any time to be wasted,” he says. “But you know why you’re here, of course.”
“Of my genius. Hooper simply can’t stand that I’m cleverer than he is. We work so closely together, cooped up in that Hut all day. It drives him to distraction. To worse.”
“You’re suggesting Hooper would sabotage this country’s future simply to spite you?” Harris chooses his words like the military man he is, each lining up to create a ring around me.
“Yes, perhaps. But also to ensure your name goes down in the annals of mathematics. All you have to do is go to the back of Hut 2. There’s a breeze-block with a cavity. That’s where I’ve put it. I’ll be locked up overnight, I should think. But you can pick it up and pass it to my contact. He’ll be at the south fence around two AM.”
“If you think I’ll do that then you’re crazy,” Hooper replies.
At that moment the door flies open and the Captain comes storming back inside.
Harris hustles me over to the barracks. “I hope that’s the end of it,” he mutters as he pushes me up the steps.
“Just be sure to let him out,” I reply. “And then see where he goes.”
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
“All right. I’ll tell you what happened.” And never mind my shame, I think.
“I can imagine how it starts,” he growls.
“There was a young man, Harris. I met him in the town. A few months ago now. We got to talking - not about work, you understand. I said I was an accountant for a firm, just as I was supposed to. Although he seemed to know that wasn’t true. That got me wondering if he wasn’t one of us.”
Harris is not letting me off any more. “You seriously considered that possibility?”
“No. Not for more than a moment, of course. Everyone here is marked out by how little we would be willing to say about it.”
“Only you told this young man more than a little, didn’t you?”
I nod. “He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
I put my ear down to the keyhole, but there’s nothing now. Probably still a guard outside, of course, but they’re keeping mum.
“I’ve thought so before.”
“Let me tell you what happened this morning. Our men watching Hooper’s tent saw Hooper wake up, get dressed, clamber out of his tent and then remark with surprise as, while looking for his shoes, he stumbled on something just at the entrance of his tent.”
Well, then. To Hooper’s dorm. Time to wrap up this little game once and for all.
I creep around the outside of the Huts. All are quiet, steel-grey in the hazy moonlight; a few shining copper from arc-lamps strung from the trees. A few guards patrol the area at night but not many - after all, very few know this place even exists.
Our quarters are arranged away from the House; where we sleep is of less importance than where we work. We each have our own Hut, through some are less permanent than other’s. Hooper’s is a military issue tent: quite a large canopy, with two rooms inside and a short porch area where he insists people leave their shoes. It’s all zipped up for the night and no light shines from inside.
I hang back for a moment. If Harris is keeping to the terms of our deal then someone will be watching this place. But I can see no-one.
“Yes, perhaps. But also to ensure your name goes down in the annals of mathematics. All you have to do is go to the back of Hut 2. There’s a breeze-block with a cavity. That’s where I’ve put it. I’ll be locked up overnight, I should think. But you can pick it up and pass it to my contact. He’ll be at the south fence around two AM.”
“If you think I’ll do that then you’re crazy,” Hooper replies.
At that moment the door flies open and the Captain comes storming back inside.
Harris hustles me over to the barracks. “I hope that’s the end of it,” he mutters as he pushes me up the steps.
“Just be sure to let him out,” I reply. “And then see where he goes.”
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
“I suppose so,” I reply. “I’ve certainly done things I regret. Things I shouldn’t have done.”
“I see,” Harris answers. “You’ve left yourself open. To pressure. Is that what you’re saying?”
“Tell Hooper I’ve confessed. In fact, better yet, let him see you march me off in handcuffs. Then let him go, and watch him. Ten to one he’ll go straight to wherever he’s hidden that component and his game will be up.”
Harris nods slowly, chewing over the idea. It isn’t a bad plan even - except, of course, Hooper has not hidden the component, and won’t lead them anywhere. But that’s a problem I might be able to solve once I’m out of this place; and once they’re busy, dogging Hooper’s steps from hut to hut.
“It’s an interesting idea,” the Commander muses. “But I’m not so sure he’ll be that stupid. And if he’s already passed the part on, well, the whole thing will only be a waste of time.”
“I suppose I do rather.” I laugh, but Harris does not.
“This damn business gets worse and worse,” he says, talking as he goes over to unlock and throw open the window. “Hooper’s confessed, you know.”
“I know nothing about it.” My voice is shaking with anger as I try to speak. I’m not accustomed to facing off against the Commander - against any man with a gun in his holster. “I don’t know what gives you the right to pick on me. I demand a lawyer.”
“This is time of war,” Harris answers. His tone of voice has fallen down into darkness. “And by God, if I have to shoot you to recover the component or stop it falling into the wrong hands, I will, do you understand me?”
There’s an icy silence. He’s angry at my slippery answers. He waves an impetuous hand across the field table.
“Now, drink your tea and talk.”
“Perhaps Hooper had an accomplice. Someone else who works on site.”
Harris shakes his head, distractedly. “That doesn’t make sense,” he says. “Why go to all the trouble of stealing it only to give it back? And why like this?”
I go over to the window and try to jimmy it open. Not much luck, but in my struggling I notice this window only backs on the thin little brook that runs down the back of the compound. Which means, if I smashed it, I might get away with no-one seeing.
From outside, I hear a voice. Hooper’s. He’s haranguing someone, for something.
I have no God to make peace with. I find it difficult to believe in goodness of any kind, in a world such as this.
But I am no traitor. At least, not to my country. To my sex, perhaps. But how could I support the Reich? If it were to come to power, I would be worse off than under the already dire circumstances of my existence.
I have no place here. No way to fit. I am the intercept - caught, in the middle, cryptic and understood only thinly, through devices and machines.
“Nothing,” I reply. “You’re just the other man in the room. One of us has to get the blame.”
I get to my feet and open the door of the Hut. The Captain storms back inside and I’m quickly thrown out. Harris hustles me over to the barracks. “I hope that’s the end of it,” he mutters as he pushes me up the steps.
“Just be sure to let him out,” I reply. “And then see where he goes.”
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. Thinking back, I should have wrapped the part from the Bombe in one of his shirts before hiding it, that would have been a clever move. I really do make a terrible spy.
“I’m looking forward to a long bath,” I reply. “And getting back to work.”
“Well, I’m afraid it is going to get worse for you,” Harris replies soberly. “We followed Hooper, and he took himself neatly to bed and slept like a boy scout. Which puts us back to square one, and you firmly in the frame. And I’m afraid I don’t have time for any more games. I want you to tell me where that component is, or we will hang you as a traitor.”
He passes a hand across his eyes with a long look of despair.
“I’m going to go outside and organise a rope. That’ll take about twelve minutes. That’s how long you have to decide.”
The bucket? Hardly. The bucket might do some good if I wanted to sweep up the glass afterwards, but it won’t help me smash the glass quietly.
“No. Not for more than a moment, of course. Everyone here is marked out by how little we would be willing to say about it.”
“Only you told this young man more than a little, didn’t you?”
I nod. “He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
The weight of the Bombe component safely in my jacket, I return the short way up the paths between the huts to the barrack block and the broken window.
It’s a little harder getting back through - the window is higher off the ground than the floor inside - but after a decent bit of jumping and hauling I manage to get my elbows up, and then one leg, and finally I collapse inside, quite winded and out breath.
No, I am content. I suppose I do not believe they will hang me. They will lock me up and continue to use my brain, if they can. I wonder what they will tell the world - perhaps that I have taken my own life. That would be simplest. The few who know me would believe it.
Well, then. Not a bad existence, in prison. Removed from temptation. A kind of imposed monasticism, with plenty more problems to solve, and more mysteries to fathom.
I wonder what else I might yet unravel before I’m done?
“He’s petty enough, certainly. He’s a creep.” I wipe a hand across my forehead. “All I can say is, ever since I arrived here, he’s been looking to ways to bring me down a peg. I wouldn’t be surprised if he set this whole affair up just to have me court-martialled.”
“We don’t court-martial civilians,” Harris replies. “Traitors are simply hung at her Majesty’s pleasure.”
“So would you,” I reply tartly. Harris raises an eyebrow.
“I’ve been through worse than this,” he replies matter-of-factly. “It’s hardly my fault if you sleep in your clothes.”
I glare back at him.
He goes over to the window, unlocks it and throws it open, relishing the fresh air from outside. “Hooper’s confessed, you know.”
I put my ear down to the keyhole, but there’s nothing now. Probably still a guard outside, of course, but they’re keeping mum.
“Yes, I considered it. He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
“Just adding to the drama,” I tell him, confidently. “I’m sure you can understand that.”
“I think we’ve had enough drama today already,” Harris replies. “Let’s hope for a clean kill.”
He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
“Yes, I considered it. He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
I wait a few minutes, to be sure Hooper and the Captain will have gone, then try the door. It’s locked, all right. I’m not really one for picking locks. Never tried it. I don’t think I’ll be getting out that way.
“I saw Hooper take it.”
“Did you?” The worst of his rage is passing; he is now moving into a kind of contemptuous despair. I can imagine him wrapping up our interview soon, leaving the hut, locking the door, and dropping the key down the well in the yard. And why wouldn’t he? With my name tarnished they will not let me back to work on the Bombe - if there is the slightest smell of treachery about my name I would be lucky not be locked up for the remainder of the war. “I wish you’d stop with your deceptions and get to the truth, man. Every minute matters.”
I creep forward to the tent, intent on lifting the zip to the front porch area just a little - enough to slip the component inside, and without the risk of the noise waking Hooper from his snoring.
The work is careful, and more than little fiddly - Hooper has tied the zips down on the inside, the fastidious little bastard! - but after a little work I manage to make a hole large enough for my hand.
If I leave the component here somewhere it should be somewhere I can rely on Hooper finding it, but no-one before Hooper. In particular.
“Oh, yes?”
“Yes. For what that’s worth. There’s still the issue of the component. It hasn’t turned up. He didn’t lead us to it. I guess he figured you must have had something on him. I don’t know.”
He looks quite put out by the whole affair. He is not the kind of man to deal well with ambiguities and probabilities, far preferred the clarity of fact and falsehood.
I settle down to wait.
Night falls. The clockwork of the heavens keeps turning, whatever state I might be in. No-one can steal the components that make the sun go down and the stars come out. I watch it performing its operations. I can’t sleep.
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
I settle down to wait.
Night falls. The clockwork of the heavens keeps turning, whatever state I might be in. No-one can steal the components that make the sun go down and the stars come out. I watch it performing its operations. I can’t sleep.
Has Hooper taken my bait?
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
“All right,” he declares, gruffly. “We’ll try it. But if this doesn’t work, I might just put the both of you in front of a firing squad and be done with these games. Worse things happen in time of war, you know.”
“Alone,” I add.
“Alone?”
“Alone.”
Harris considers it. I watch his eyes, flicking backwards and forwards over mine, like a ribbon-reader trying to load in its program.
“And the other men? Do we have a hut each? Surely there aren’t enough senior officers to go round.”
“Collins and Humph were outside when the theft occurred. Everyone confirms that,” Harris replies. “That leaves you, Hooper, and the other two, who vouch for each other and frankly I’m inclined to believe them. But that’s all we know. No-one here is in the business of guessing, you know that. Our business is to decode. To get to the bottom of whatever’s going on. You’ve not placed yourself beyond suspicion and until you do so...” Harris shrugs. “I’m afraid I have fewer and fewer choices as time goes on. If that component has left these grounds then every minute is critical.”
In case I’m being followed, I divert around the perimeter of the compound. It’s a much longer path, and it takes me across some terrain that’s difficult to negotiate in the dark - muddy, and thick with thistles and nestles.
Still, I can be confident no-one is following, as I hear nothing. I crouch down behind the rear wall of Hut 2. The component is still there, wrapped in a tea-towel and shoved into a cavity in a breeze-block at the base of the Hut wall.
“I’m looking forward to having a wash and a change of clothes; which should make a little less evil to be around.”
“Very droll,” he replies. “Let me tell you what happened this morning, and see if it takes the smile off your face. Our men watching Hooper’s tent saw Hooper wake up, get dressed, clamber out of his tent and then remark with surprise as, while looking for his shoes, he stumbled on something just at the entrance of his tent.”
No, I am content. I suppose I do not believe they will hang me. They will lock me up and continue to use my brain, if they can. I wonder what they will tell the world - perhaps that I have taken my own life. That would be simplest. The few who know me would believe it.
Well, then. Not a bad existence, in prison. Removed from temptation. A kind of imposed monasticism, with plenty more problems to solve, and more mysteries to fathom.
I wonder what else I might yet unravel before I’m done?
“No. Not for more than a moment, of course. Everyone here is marked out by how little we would be willing to say about it.”
“Only you told this young man more than a little, didn’t you?”
I nod. “He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
“If I wanted to escape, I would have made damn sure that I could,” I tell him sternly.
“Well, I’m afraid it is going to get worse for you,” Harris replies soberly. “We followed Hooper, and he took himself neatly to bed and slept like a boy scout. Which puts us back to square one, and you firmly in the frame. And I’m afraid I don’t have time for any more games. I want you to tell me where that component is, or we will hang you as a traitor.”
He passes a hand across his eyes with a long look of despair.
“I’m going to go outside and organise a rope. That’ll take about twelve minutes. That’s how long you have to decide.”
“I know nothing about it.” My voice is shaking with anger as I try to speak. I’m not accustomed to facing off against the Commander - against any man with a gun in his holster. “I don’t know what gives you the right to pick on me. I demand a lawyer.”
“This is time of war,” Harris answers. His tone of voice has fallen down into darkness. “And by God, if I have to shoot you to recover the component or stop it falling into the wrong hands, I will, do you understand me?”
There’s an icy silence. He’s angry. He waves an impetuous hand across the field table.
“Now, drink your tea and talk.”
“No. I passed it on to Hooper.”
“I see. And what did he do with it?”
No, I am content. I suppose I do not believe they will hang me. They will lock me up and continue to use my brain, if they can. I wonder what they will tell the world - perhaps that I have taken my own life. That would be simplest. The few who know me would believe it.
Well, then. Not a bad existence, in prison. Removed from temptation. A kind of imposed monasticism, with plenty more problems to solve, and more mysteries to fathom.
I wonder what else I might yet unravel before I’m done?
I shift in my seat. “Not really. The boy was a simpleton, obviously. My intellectual inferior. His good opinion meant nothing to be. Harris, please do not misunderstand me. I was simply after his body.”
Harris, to his credit, doesn’t flinch. Well, perhaps not: but he’ll have nightmares of this moment tonight. I’m almost tempted to reach out and try to take his hand to worsen it for him, but I hold back.
“Go on with your confession,” he replies. I shrug.
“There’s not much else to say. I took the part from Bombe computing device. You seem to know that already. I had to. He was going to expose me if I didn’t.”
“This young man was blackmailing you over your affair?”
“Hooper, I’ll make a deal with you. We both know what happened in that hut this afternoon. I know because I did it, and you know because you know you didn’t. But once this is done I’ll be rich, and I’ll split that with you. I’ll let you have the results, too. Your name on the discovery of the Bombe. And it won’t hurt the war effort - you know as well as me that the component on its own is worthless, it’s the wiring of the Bombe, the usage, that’s what’s valuable. So how about it?”
Hooper looks back at me, appalled. “You’re asking me to commit treason?”
Enough of this. There isn’t any time to lose. Right now they’ll be following Hooper as he goes to bed, and goes to sleep; and then that’s it. The minute he closes his eyelids and drifts off that’s the moment that this trap swings shut on me.
So I punch out the glass with my shoe and it shatters with a terrific noise. Then I stop, and wait, to see if anyone will come in through the door.
Nothing.
It’s no good. That’s only half a solution. I couldn’t be happy with that.
“Awkward,” I reply, looking him straight in the eye.
His gaze is unexpressive: I’ve seen Harris broad and full of laughter, but today he is rigid, as much part of the military machine as the devices in Hut 5.
“There really isn’t any time to be wasted,” he says. “But you know why you’re here, of course.”
I suppose my fist would do a good enough job. But I’d cut myself to ribbons, most likely. And the noise would be terrible. There must be a way of making this easier. I’m supposed to be a thief now. What would a burglar do?
If I leave the component here somewhere it should be somewhere I can rely on Hooper finding it, but no-one before Hooper. In particular.
“No. I passed it on to Hooper.”
“I see. And what did he do with it?”
“No. I have no idea.”
He’s talking about the missing reel from the Bombe. Russell discovered it this afternoon when the machine began producing strange results. We were all in the Hut when it happened and it had been in place when we sat down to work. The conclusions had been obvious to all four of us immediately, but had gone undiscussed, even after the empty socket was located, the wiring torn on either side.
“Lucky these things are easy to replace,” Russell had remarked, and that had been that. We had stopped work, sent out for a new part to be machined. And drunk our tea and watched each other.
“Come now,” Harris says, quite the reasonable gent. “As I told you. We’re not interviewing everyone. Only you. So. I think you can be a little more forthcoming.”
I suppose my fist would do a good enough job. But I’d cut myself to ribbons, most likely. And the noise would be terrible. There must be a way of making this easier. I’m supposed to be a thief now. What would a burglar do?
“I’m not trying to do anything except save my neck.”
“Let’s hope things work out,” Harris agrees darkly.
He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. I can only hope that Hooper bites on my baited hook. If he thinks I’m mad and bitter enough to have framed him somehow, and arrogant enough to have taunted him with a clue to where the damning evidence is hidden... if he hates me enough, and is paranoid enough, then he might unravel my little riddle and go searching around Hut 2.
Thinking back, I should have wrapped the part from the Bombe in one of his shirts before hiding it, that would have been a clever move. I really do make a terrible spy.
“Damn right I’m sore. Was it one of the others who put you up to this? Was it Hooper? He’s always been jealous of me. He’s...”
The Commander moustache bristles as he purses his lips. “Has he now? Of your achievements, do you think?” It’s difficult not to shake the sense that he’s mocking me. “Or of your brain? Or something else?”
“I suppose I do rather.” I laugh, but Harris does not.
“This damn business gets worse and worse,” he says, talking as he goes over to unlock and throw open the window. “Hooper’s confessed, you know.”
“No,” Harris declares, finally. “I think you’re lying about Hooper. I think you’re a clever, scheming young man - that’s why we hired you - and you’re looking for the only reasonable out this situation has to offer. But I’m not taking it. We know you were in the room with the machine, we know you’re of a perverted persuasion, we know you have compromised yourself. There’s nothing more to say here. Either you tell me what you’ve done with that component, or we will hang you and search just as hard. It’s your choice.”
He gets to his feet, and gathers his gloves from the table top.
“I’m going to go outside and organise a rope. That’ll take about twelve minutes. That’s how long you have to decide.”
“Now steady on,” I reply, gesturing for him to calm himself.
“Talk,” Harris demands. “Talk, now. Tell me where you’ve hidden it or who you’ve passed it to. Or God help me, but I’ll take your wretched pansy body to pieces looking for it, do you understand me?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
The bucket? Hardly. The bucket might do some good if I wanted to sweep up the glass afterwards, but it won’t help me smash the glass quietly.
“No. Not for more than a moment, of course. Everyone here is marked out by how little we would be willing to say about it.”
“Only you told this young man more than a little, didn’t you?”
I nod. “He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
I wait a few minutes, to be sure Hooper and the Captain will have gone, then try the door. It’s locked, all right. I’m not really one for picking locks. Never tried it. I don’t think I’ll be getting out that way.
I wait a few minutes, to be sure Hooper and the Captain will have gone, then try the door. It’s locked, all right. I’m not really one for picking locks. Never tried it. I don’t think I’ll be getting out that way.
Still there means no-one has found it, which means it is probably well-hidden. And short of skipping the compound now, I can afford to leave it hidden there a while longer. So I leave it in place.
Where now?
“I’m no traitor, damn it. You know I’m not. How much work have I done here? Against the Germans? Cracking their codes? Understanding their secrets? I’ve given it my all! And you know as well as I do, if the Reich were to invade, I would be a dead man for being what I am. So please, Hooper. I’m not doing any of this lightly. But I’m in a jam!”
“Assuming I wanted to help you,” he replies, carefully. “Which I don’t. What would I do?”
“Nothing. Almost nothing.
All you have to do is go to the back of Hut 2. There’s a breeze-block with a cavity. That’s where I’ve put it. I’ll be locked up overnight, I should think. But you can pick it up and pass it to my contact. He’ll be at the south fence around two AM."
“If you think I’ll do that then you’re crazy,” Hooper replies.
At that moment the door flies open and the Captain comes storming back inside.
Harris hustles me over to the barracks. “I hope that’s the end of it,” he mutters as he pushes me up the steps.
“Just be sure to let him out,” I reply. “And then see where he goes.”
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
I put my ear to the keyhole but can make out nothing. Are there still guards posted? Perhaps, if Hooper has managed to incriminate himself, the guards have been removed?
Perhaps the door is unlocked and they left me to sleep? I try the handle. No such luck.
The night draws on at its own pace. I suppose by morning I will know my fate.
“Just adding to the drama,” I tell him, confidently. “I’m sure you can understand that.”
“I think we’ve had enough drama today already,” Harris replies. “Let’s hope for a clean kill.”
He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
“I don’t know what gives you the right to pick on me. I demand a lawyer.”
“This is time of war,” Harris answers. His tone of voice has fallen down into darkness. “And by God, if I have to shoot you to recover the component or stop it falling into the wrong hands, I will, do you understand me?”
There’s an icy silence. I’ve cracked him a little at least. He’s angry. He waves an impetuous hand across the field table.
“Now, drink your tea and talk.”
I put my ear down to the keyhole, but there’s nothing now. Probably still a guard outside, of course, but they’re keeping mum.
“Harris, you’d better watch out. He’s planted a time-bomb here.”
Harris stares at me for a moment, then laughs. “Oh, goodness. That’s rich.”
I almost wish I had a way to make the hut explode, but of course I don’t.
“Enough.” Harris gestures for me to start walking. “This story couldn’t be simpler. You took it to cover your back. You hid it. You lied to get Hooper into trouble, and when you thought you’d won, you came to scoop your prize. A good hand but ultimately, you told Hooper where to look with your little riddle.”
He leads me across the yard. Back towards Hut 5 to be decoded, and taken to pieces, once again.
“No. I didn’t.”
“This is all too far-fetched,” Harris says. “I’m glad to have this back, but I need to think.”
Getting to his feet, he nods once. “You’ll have to wait a little longer, I’m afraid, Manning.”
Then he steps out of the door, muttering to himself.
“I’m not trying to do anything except save my neck.”
“Let’s hope things work out,” Harris agrees darkly.
He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. I can only hope that Hooper bites on my baited hook. If he thinks I’m mad and bitter enough to have framed him somehow, and arrogant enough to have taunted him with a clue to where the damning evidence is hidden... if he hates me enough, and is paranoid enough, then he might unravel my little riddle and go searching around Hut 2.
Thinking back, I should have wrapped the part from the Bombe in one of his shirts before hiding it, that would have been a clever move. I really do make a terrible spy.
I put my ear down to the keyhole, but there’s nothing now. Probably still a guard outside, of course, but they’re keeping mum.
I leave the cup exactly where it is. “Why?” I ask coldly. “What’s in it?”
“Lapsang Souchong,” he remarks, placing his own cup down on the table with a clink. “Such a curious flavour. It might almost not be tea at all. You might say it hides a multitude of sins. As do you, isn’t that correct?”
I wait a few minutes, to be sure the Commander will have gone, then try the door. It’s locked, all right. I’m not really one for picking locks. Never tried it. I don’t think I’ll be getting out that way.
From outside, I hear a voice. Hooper’s. He’s haranguing someone, for something.
“No. It’s not treason. It’s a trade, plain and simple.”
“If you think I’ll do that then you’re crazy,” Hooper replies.
At that moment the door flies open and the Captain comes storming back inside.
Harris hustles me over to the barracks. “I hope that’s the end of it,” he mutters as he pushes me up the steps.
“Just be sure to let him out,” I reply. “And then see where he goes.”
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
“Yes.”
Harris stares back at me.
“I see.” There’s a long pause, like the endless delay between feeding in a line of cypher to the Bombe and waiting for its valves and cylinders to heat up enough to being processing. “Would you like to explain?”
I head on around the back of the hut. The breeze-block with the cavity is on the left side.
Next. To Hooper’s dorm. Time to wrap up this little game once and for all.
I creep around the outside of the Huts. All are quiet, steel-grey in the hazy moonlight; a few shining copper from arc-lamps strung from the trees. A few guards patrol the area at night but not many - after all, very few know this place even exists.
Our quarters are arranged away from the House; where we sleep is of less importance than where we work. We each have our own Hut, through some are less permanent than other’s. Hooper’s is a military issue tent: quite a large canopy, with two rooms inside and a short porch area where he insists people leave their shoes. It’s all zipped up for the night and no light shines from inside.
I hang back for a moment. If Harris is keeping to the terms of our deal then someone will be watching this place. But I can see no-one.
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
“What could I do?” I’m shaking now. The night is cold and the heat-lamp in this hut has been removed, presumably to keep me alert and on edge. “I don’t want to go to prison.”
“You committed a crime,” Harris answers. If I had any sense that he understood my predicament, and that he felt for my state of being, it collapses like a chain with a broken link. “You thought you could repair it with another, more serious crime?” He shakes his head. “I thought you men were supposed to be clever. But this is the action of a frightened woman. So I’d like you to tell me, now. Where is it?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
“Of my standing. My reputation.” I don’t like to talk of myself like this, but I carry on all the same. “Hooper simply can’t bear knowing that, once all this is over, I’ll be the one receiving the knighthood and he...”
“No-one will be getting a knighthood if the Germans invade,” Harris answers sharply. He casts a quick eye to the door of the Hut to check the latch is still down, then continues in more of a murmur: “Not you and not Hooper. Now answer me.” For the first time since the door closed, I wonder what the threat might be if I do not.
“Let’s get straight to the point. Do you have the component?” Harris demands. “Do you know where it is?”
I go over to the window and try to jimmy it open. Not much luck, but in my struggling I notice this window only backs on the thin little brook that runs down the back of the compound. Which means, if I smashed it, I might get away with no-one seeing.
From outside, I hear a voice. Hooper’s. He’s haranguing someone, for something.
“Damn right I’m sore. Was it one of the others who put you up to this? Was it Hooper? He’s always been jealous of me. He’s...”
The Commander moustache bristles as he purses his lips. “Has he now? Of your achievements, do you think?” It’s difficult not to shake the sense that he’s mocking me. “Or of your brain? Or something else?”
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
Morning comes slowly, but I must fall asleep at some point, because the next thing I know the rooster is calling and a cool, fresh breeze is blowing through the open window. I barely have time to wipe the sleep from my eyes and brush myself down before the door opens and Harris enters.
He takes one look around, and sighs, a deep, wistful sigh.
“Things just get worse and worse for you, Manning,” he remarks. “You are your own worst enemy.”
I settle down to wait.
Night falls. The clockwork of the heavens keeps turning, whatever state I might be in. No-one can steal the components that make the sun go down and the stars come out. I watch it performing its operations. I can’t sleep.
Has Hooper taken my bait?
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
“I know where it is.”
Harris stares back at me.
“I see.” There’s a long pause, like the endless delay between feeding in a line of cypher to the Bombe and waiting for its valves and cylinders to heat up enough to being processing. “Would you like to explain?”
I suppose I do not believe they will hang me. They will lock me up and continue to use my brain, if they can. I wonder what they will tell the world - perhaps that I have taken my own life. That would be simplest. The few who know me would believe it.
Well, then. Not a bad existence, in prison. Removed from temptation. A kind of imposed monasticism, with plenty more problems to solve, and more mysteries to fathom.
I wonder what else I might yet unravel before I’m done?
I let him have his rant. He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. I can only hope that Hooper bites on my baited hook. If he thinks I’m mad and bitter enough to have framed him somehow, and arrogant enough to have taunted him with a clue to where the damning evidence is hidden... if he hates me enough, and is paranoid enough, then he might unravel my little riddle and go searching around Hut 2.
Thinking back, I should have wrapped the part from the Bombe in one of his shirts before hiding it, that would have been a clever move. I really do make a terrible spy.
“I still have it. Not on me, of course. The missing component of the Bombe computer is hidden in a small cavity in a breeze-block supporting the left rear post of Hut 2. I put in there anticipating a search. I intended to dispose of it once the fuss had died down. I suppose I was foolish to think that it might.”
“Indeed you were. And, Mr Manning: God help you if you’re lying to me.”
Harris stands, and slips away smartly. Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
“Yes, I considered it. He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
It’s no good. That’s only half a solution. I couldn’t be happy with that.
I slip off my jacket and hold it with one hand over the glass. This should do it. Then I heft back my arm, and take a strong swing, trying to imagine it’s Harris’ face on the other side.
The sound of the impact is muffled. With my arm still covered, I sweep out the remaining glass in the frame. I’m ready to escape. The only trouble is - when they look in on me in the morning, there will be no question what has happened. It won’t help me one jot with shifting suspicion off my back.
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
“Yes. I suppose he was their agent. I should have realised but I didn’t. Then he threatened to tell you. I thought you would have me locked up: I couldn’t bear the thought of it. I love working here. I’ve never been so happy, so successful, anywhere before. I didn’t want to lose it.”
“So what did you do with the component?” Harris talks urgently. He grips his gloves tightly in one hand, perhaps prepared to lift them and strike if it is required. “Have you passed it to this man already? Have you left it somewhere for him to find?”
“I was quite certain, after a while. After we’d been talking. He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
The bunk has a solid metal frame, a blanket, a pillow, nothing more.
“Then I’ll be going, on and getting on with my job of saving her, shall I?” I even rise half to my feet, before he slams the tabletop.
“Talk,” Harris demands. “Talk, now. Tell me where you’ve hidden it or who you’ve passed it to. Or God help me, but I’ll take your wretched pansy body to pieces looking for it, do you understand me?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
“What could I do?” I’m shaking now. The night is cold and the heat-lamp in this hut has been removed, presumably to keep me alert and on edge. “I don’t want to go to prison.”
“You committed a crime,” Harris answers. If I had any sense that he understood my predicament, and that he felt for my state of being, it collapses like a chain with a broken link. “You thought you could repair it with another, more serious crime?” He shakes his head. “I thought you men were supposed to be clever. But this is the action of a frightened woman. So I’d like you to tell me, now. Where is it?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
“Yes, I considered it. He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
“I saw Hooper take it.”
“I see.” He is starting to lose his temper - I can see it in the creases of his face. I have seen Harris angry a few times, with lackeys and secretaries and the like, usually over things sent late or incorrectly. But never with us. With the “brains” he has always been so cautious, treating us like children. And now I see that, like a father, he wants only to smack us when we disobey him. “I wish you’d stop with your deceptions and get to the truth, man. Every minute matters.”
I settle down to wait.
Night falls. The clockwork of the heavens keeps turning, whatever state I might be in. No-one can steal the components that make the sun go down and the stars come out. I watch it performing its operations. I can’t sleep.
Has Hooper taken my bait?
It’s no good. Nothing I can do will be any less than obvious - something appearing where something was not there before. The men watching Hooper will know it is a deception and Hooper’s protestations will be taken at face value.
If I can’t find a way for Hooper to pick the component up, as if from a hiding place of his own devising, and be caught doing it, then I have no plan at all.
“Very well. I see there’s no point in covering up. You know everything anyway.”
Harris nods, and waits for me to continue.
“There was a young man, Harris. I met him in the town. A few months ago now. We got to talking - not about work. I said I was an accountant for a firm, just as I was supposed to. Although he seemed to know that wasn’t true. That got me wondering if he wasn’t one of us.”
Harris is not letting me off any more. “You seriously considered that possibility?”
I put my ear down to the keyhole, but there’s nothing now. Probably still a guard outside, of course, but they’re keeping mum.
“I suppose so,” I reply. “I’ve certainly done things I regret. Things I shouldn’t have done.”
“I see,” Harris answers. “You’ve left yourself open. To pressure. Is that what you’re saying?”
“I don’t know.”
“You can do better than that. Remember, there’s a hangman’s noose waiting for traitors.”
I put my ear down to the keyhole, but there’s nothing now. Probably still a guard outside, of course, but they’re keeping mum.
If I leave the component here somewhere it should be somewhere I can rely on Hooper finding it, but no-one before Hooper. In particular.
Work carefully? It’s difficult to work carefully when all one’s has is nothing but brute force.
“All right. I’ll tell you what happened.” And never mind my shame, I think.
“I can imagine how it starts,” he growls.
“There was a young man, Harris. I met him in the town. A few months ago now. We got to talking - not about work, you understand. I said I was an accountant for a firm, just as I was supposed to. Although he seemed to know that wasn’t true. That got me wondering if he wasn’t one of us.”
Harris is not letting me off any more. “You seriously considered that possibility?”
The bucket? Hardly. The bucket might do some good if I wanted to sweep up the glass afterwards, but it won’t help me smash the glass quietly.
I wait a few minutes, to be sure Hooper and the Captain will have gone, then try the door. It’s locked, all right. I’m not really one for picking locks. Never tried it. I don’t think I’ll be getting out that way.
“An accident, naturally.” I risk a smile. “That damned machine, Harris; it’s made from spare parts and string. Even these huts leak when it rains. It wouldn’t take more than one fellow to trip over a cable to shake out a component and have it roll away across the floor. Have you tried looking under the thing?”
Harris doesn’t smile. “Do you suppose we haven’t? Do you supposed we haven’t combed every inch of this place already?”
In a sudden moment I understand that his reply is a threat.
“Now,” he continues. “Are you sure there isn’t anything you want to tell me?”
“I saw him take it,” I reply, stubbornly. “Collins and Humph were outside having a cigarette, I think. The other two men were at the table. But I was at the front of the machine. I saw Hooper go around the side, and lean down, and pull something free. I even challenged him on it. I said, ‘What’s that? Someone put a nail through somewhere they shouldn’t have?’ He didn’t reply.”
“We are left with two possibilities, quite clearly. You, or Hooper.” The Commander pauses to smooth down his moustache. “Hooper’s in Hut 3 with the Captain, having a similar conversation.”
Moving quickly and quietly, I hoist myself up onto the window-frame and worm my way outside into the freezing night air. Then I’m away, slipping down the paths between the Huts, sticking to the shadows, on my way to Hut 2.
“No. I have no idea.”
He’s talking about the missing reel from the Bombe. Russell discovered it this afternoon when the machine began producing strange results. We were all in the Hut when it happened and it had been in place when we sat down to work. The conclusions had been obvious to all four of us immediately, but had gone undiscussed, even after the empty socket was located, the wiring torn on either side.
“Lucky these things are easy to replace,” Russell had remarked, and that had been that. We had stopped work, sent out for a new part to be machined. And drunk our tea and watched each other.
“Come now,” Harris says, quite the reasonable gent. “As I told you. We’re not interviewing everyone. Only you. So. I think you can be a little more forthcoming.”
I nod. “I don’t need twelve minutes. The missing component of the Bombe computer is hidden in a small cavity in a breeze-block supporting the left rear post of Hut 2. I put in there anticipating a search. I intended to pass it to Hooper once the fuss had died down. I suppose I was foolish to think that it might.”
“Indeed you were. And, Mr Manning: God help you if you’re lying to me.”
Harris stands, and slips away smartly. Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
“I’m sure I saw him this evening, talking to someone by the fence on the woodland side of the compound. He’s probably passed it on already. You’ll have to ask him.”
Harris harrumphs. He’s thinking it all over.
“I was quite certain, after a while. After we’d been talking. He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
“No, I don’t. I’ve got work I should be doing tomorrow, and I need my rest...”
“Work that will be difficult for you to do, don’t you think?” Harris replies.
“They’ll have made a replacement by tomorrow,” I reply. “The war doesn’t stop over one missing reel.”
The reel went missing from the Bombe this afternoon. The four of us were in the Hut at the time, working on the latest intercept. It was Russell who noticed the machine producing strange results and found the gap in its plugboard. But as to who took it - it could have been any of us.
And indeed, it must have been. The machine had been functioning as normal when we began our calculations. And then, a short few hours later, it was gone. We had to stop. There was nothing more we could do until it was replaced. The part was vital, just as the machine was vital, and so were the contents of the message, still unread twenty four hours later.
“Let’s get straight to the point. Do you have the component?” Harris demands. “Do you know where it is?”
It’s no good. That’s only half a solution. I couldn’t be happy with that.
I wait a few minutes, to be sure the Commander will have gone, then try the door. It’s locked, all right. I’m not really one for picking locks. Never tried it. I don’t think I’ll be getting out that way.
From outside, I hear a voice. Hooper’s. He’s haranguing someone, for something.
“All right. I’ll tell you what happened.” And never mind my shame, I think.
“I can imagine how it starts,” he growls.
“There was a young man, Harris. I met him in the town. A few months ago now. We got to talking - not about work, you understand. I said I was an accountant for a firm, just as I was supposed to. Although he seemed to know that wasn’t true. That got me wondering if he wasn’t one of us.”
Harris is not letting me off any more. “You seriously considered that possibility?”
“I know where it is.”
Harris stares back at me.
“I see.” There’s a long pause, like the endless delay between feeding in a line of cypher to the Bombe and waiting for its valves and cylinders to heat up enough to being processing. “Would you like to explain?”
“Here at Bletchley? Of course I do...”
“Here, now,” Harris replies firmly. “We’re not talking to everyone, you understand. I can imagine you might feel pretty sore about that, old man. I can imagine you feeling picked on. You always were a sensitive soul.”
I suppose my fist would do a good enough job. But I’d cut myself to ribbons, most likely. And the noise would be terrible. There must be a way of making this easier. I’m supposed to be a thief now. What would a burglar do?
I have no God to make peace with. I find it difficult to believe in goodness of any kind, in a world such as this.
But I am no traitor. At least, not to my country. To my sex, perhaps. But how could I support the Reich? If it were to come to power, I would be worse off than under the already dire circumstances of my existence.
In truth, it is men like Harris who are complex, not men like me. I live to make things ordered, systematic. I like my pencils sharpened and lined up in a row. I do not deal in difficult borders, or uncertainties, or alliances. If I could, I would reduce the world to something easier to understand, something finite. But of course, I cannot, not even here, in this little micro-world, this safe haven from the horrors of the war.
I have no place here. No way to fit. I am the intercept - caught, in the middle, cryptic and understood only thinly, through devices and machines.
It’s no good. Nothing I can do will be any less than obvious - something appearing where something was not there before. The men watching Hooper will know it is a deception and Hooper’s protestations will be taken at face value.
If I can’t find a way for Hooper to pick the component up, as if from a hiding place of his own devising, and be caught doing it, then I have no plan at all.
I have no God to make peace with. I find it difficult to believe in goodness of any kind, in a world such as this.
But I am no traitor. At least, not to my country. To my sex, perhaps. But how could I support the Reich? If it were to come to power, I would be worse off than under the already dire circumstances of my existence.
I have no place here. No way to fit. I am the intercept - caught, in the middle, cryptic and understood only thinly, through devices and machines.
“I suppose I do rather.” I laugh, but Harris does not.
“This damn business gets worse and worse,” he says, talking as he goes over to unlock and throw open the window. “Hooper’s confessed, you know.”
It’s no good. Nothing I can do will be any less than obvious - something appearing where something was not there before. The men watching Hooper will know it is a deception and Hooper’s protestations will be taken at face value.
If I can’t find a way for Hooper to pick the component up, as if from a hiding place of his own devising, and be caught doing it, then I have no plan at all.
“Yes, perhaps. But also to ensure your name goes down in the annals of mathematics. All you have to do is go to the back of Hut 2. There’s a breeze-block with a cavity. That’s where I’ve put it. I’ll be locked up overnight, I should think. But you can pick it up and pass it to my contact. He’ll be at the south fence around two AM.”
“If you think I’ll do that then you’re crazy,” Hooper replies.
At that moment the door flies open and the Captain comes storming back inside.
Harris hustles me over to the barracks. “I hope that’s the end of it,” he mutters as he pushes me up the steps.
“Just be sure to let him out,” I reply. “And then see where he goes.”
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
I wait a few minutes, to be sure Hooper and the Captain will have gone, then try the door. It’s locked, all right. I’m not really one for picking locks. Never tried it. I don’t think I’ll be getting out that way.
“Of my genius. Hooper simply can’t stand that I’m cleverer than he is. We work so closely together, cooped up in that Hut all day. It drives him to distraction. To worse.”
“You’re suggesting Hooper would sabotage this country’s future simply to spite you?” Harris chooses his words like the military man he is, each lining up to create a ring around me.
There is nothing I can do to speed up time. The night draws on at its own pace. I suppose by morning I will know my fate.
I go over to the window and try to jimmy it open. Not much luck, but in my struggling I notice this window only backs on the thin little brook that runs down the back of the compound. Which means, if I smashed it, I might get away with no-one seeing.
I let him have his rant. He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. I can only hope that Hooper bites on my baited hook. If he thinks I’m mad and bitter enough to have framed him somehow, and arrogant enough to have taunted him with a clue to where the damning evidence is hidden... if he hates me enough, and is paranoid enough, then he might unravel my little riddle and go searching around Hut 2.
Thinking back, I should have wrapped the part from the Bombe in one of his shirts before hiding it, that would have been a clever move. I really do make a terrible spy.
“No, Harris. The young man wasn’t blackmailing me.” I take a deep breath. “It was Hooper.”
“Hooper!” Harris exclaims, in surprise.
“It’s the truth, Harris. If I’m going to jail, then so be it, but I won’t hang at Traitor’s Gate. Hooper was the one who told the boy about our work. Hooper put the boy on to me. I should have realised, of course. These things don’t happen by chance. I was a fool to think they might. And then, once he had me compromised, he demanded I steal the part from the machine.”
“Which you did.” Harris leans forward. “And then what? You still have it? You put it somewhere?”
“Yes.”
Harris stares back at me.
“I see.” There’s a long pause, like the endless delay between feeding in a line of cypher to the Bombe and waiting for its valves and cylinders to heat up enough to being processing. “Would you like to explain?”
“You mean he confessed of his own accord? You didn’t catch him?”
“The Captain went back into that hut and he confessed immediately. We were so surprised we didn’t let you go.” He wrinkles his nose. “I’m rather sorry about that now, but I suppose we’ll let you go know. I suggest you have a wash.”
And with that he gestures to the doorway.
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
“I don’t think Hooper could have planned this in advance. So he’d need to get word to whoever he’s working with, and that would take time. So I think he would have hidden it somewhere, and be waiting to make sure I soundly take the fall. That way, if anything goes wrong, he can arrange for the part to be conveniently re-found.”
“Makes sense,” Harris agrees, cautiously. I can see he’s still not entirely convinced by my tale, as well he might not be - I’ve hardly been entirely straight with him. “Which means the question is, what can we do to rat him out?”
“So would you,” I reply tartly. Harris raises an eyebrow.
“I’ve been through worse than this,” he replies matter-of-factly. “It’s hardly my fault if you sleep in your clothes.”
I glare back at him.
He goes over to the window, unlocks it and throws it open, relishing the fresh air from outside. “Hooper’s confessed, you know.”
The bunk has a solid metal frame, a blanket, a pillow, nothing more.
“I always meant to tell you,” I tell him. “I thought perhaps I could find out who they were. Lead you to them.”
Harris looks at me with contempt. “You wretched little man. Don’t think your tongue will be able to get you out of trouble. You’re going to pay for what you’ve done, and you’re going to pay dearly. If a single man loses his life because of your pride and your perversions then God help your eternal soul. The fact is you committed a crime.” If I had any sense that he understood my predicament, and that he felt for my state of being, it collapses like a chain with a broken link. “You thought you could repair it with another, more serious crime?” He shakes his head. “I thought you men were supposed to be clever. But this is the action of a frightened woman. So I’d like you to tell me, now. Where is it?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
I say quiet, listening, not sure how this will go.
“In case I’m not making myself clear,” Harris continues, “I mean, he managed to find it, by accident, somewhere where it wasn’t the night before. And at the same time, you’re sitting here with your window broken. So, I rather think you’ve played your last hand and lost. There’s no way Hooper stole that component and then just left it lying around in the doorway of his tent. No way at all. So I came to tell you that the game is up for you.”
He nods and gets to his feet. Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
The blanket. Perfect. I scoop it up off the bed and hold it in place over the window. This should do it. Then I heft back my arm, and take a strong swing, trying to imagine it’s Harris’ face on the other side.
The sound of the impact is muffled. With my arm still covered, I sweep out the remaining glass in the frame. I’m ready to escape. The only trouble is - when they look in on me in the morning, there will be no question what has happened. It won’t help me one jot with shifting suspicion off my back.
“How should I know?” I reply, defensively. “All I can say is, ever since I arrived here, he’s been looking to ways to bring me down a peg. I wouldn’t be surprised if he set this whole affair up just to have me court-martialled.”
“We don’t court-martial civilians,” Harris replies. “Traitors are simply hung at her Majesty’s pleasure.”
But what is a country, after all? A country is not a concept, not an ideal. Every country falls, its borders shift and move, its language disappears to be replaced by another. Neither the Reich nor the British Empire will survive forever, so what use is my loyalty to either?
I may as well, therefore, look after myself. Something I have attempted, but failed miserably, to do.
“I’m afraid we have only one option, Manning,” Harris says. “Please, man. Tell us where the component is.”
“Just adding to the drama,” I tell him, confidently. “I’m sure you can understand that.”
“I think we’ve had enough drama today already,” Harris replies. “Let’s hope for a clean kill.”
He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
“Here at Bletchley? Of course I do”
“Here, now,” Harris replies firmly. “We’re not talking to everyone, you understand. I can imagine you might feel pretty sore about that, old man. I can imagine you feeling picked on. You always were a sensitive soul.”
“You’re right. Let me talk to him, then. As a colleague. Maybe I can get something useful out of him.”
Harris shakes his head. “He despises you, doesn’t he? I don’t see why he’d give himself up to you.”
“Yes, I considered it. He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
“I can imagine how being surrounded by clever men is pretty threatening for you, Commander,” I reply with a sneer. “They don’t train you to think in the Armed Forces.”
“Talk,” Harris demands. “Talk, now. Tell me where you’ve hidden it or who you’ve passed it to. Or God help me, but I’ll take your wretched pansy body to pieces looking for it, do you understand me?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
The window is my only way out of here. I just need a way to smash it.
“We’re still in ear-shot if they let Hooper go. Best get us inside and then we can talk, if we must.”
“I’ve had enough of your voice for one day,” Harris replies grimly. He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
“Then I’ll be going, on and getting on with my job of saving her, shall I?” I even rise half to my feet, before he slams the tabletop.
“Talk,” Harris demands. “Talk, now. Tell me where you’ve hidden it or who you’ve passed it to. Or God help me, but I’ll take your wretched pansy body to pieces looking for it, do you understand me?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
Making a wide circuit I creep around the tent. It has plenty of other flaps and openings, tied down with Gordian complexity. But nothing afford itself to slipping the component inside.
It’s no good. That’s only half a solution. I couldn’t be happy with that.
“I’m looking forward to having a bath.”
“Well, you should enjoy it. We found the missing component. Or rather, Hooper found it for us. He snuck out of his tent first thing in the morning and retrieved it from on top. Of all the damnest places - you would never have known it was there. He acted all surprised about it when we jumped him, of course, as you might expect - but it was good enough for me.”
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
I shake my head violently, to say no, that’s not it, but whatever is wrong with tongue is wrong with neck too. I look across at the table at Harris’ face and realise with a start how sympathetic he is. Such a kind, generous man. How can I hold anything back from him?
I take another mouthful of the bitter, strange-tasting tea before answering.
“That’s exactly it,” I say quietly. “Harris. You understand. There are some things... which can get a man into a lot of trouble. Things one shouldn’t do.”
Harris, to his credit, doesn’t stiffen. He doesn’t lean away, or remove his hands from the table-top as though my condition might be infectious. I thought they trained them in the army to shoot my kind on sight but he does not.
Of course, he does not offer any sympathy either. He only nods, once. The understanding that has passed between us here is a mere turning cog in his calculations, with no meaning or righteousness to it.
“I’ve seen the same story a hundred times before,” he says. “A young man like yourself - clever, somewhat removed from the world. The kind that doesn’t go to parties, you might say. Who takes himself a little too seriously, perhaps. Takes things too far. Further than a man should allow a thing to go. That’s the story, isn’t it? You took things too far, and then you couldn’t take them back. And now they have you.”
If I leave the component here somewhere it should be somewhere I can rely on Hooper finding it, but no-one before Hooper. In particular.
“I’m looking forward to having a wash and a change of clothes; which should make a little less evil to be around.”
“Very droll,” he replies. “Let me tell you what happened this morning, and see if it takes the smile off your face. Our men watching Hooper’s tent saw Hooper wake up, get dressed, clamber out of his tent and then remark with surprise as, while looking for his shoes, he stumbled on something just at the entrance of his tent.”
I slip off my jacket and hold it with one hand over the glass. This should do it. Then I heft back my arm, and take a strong swing, trying to imagine it’s Harris’ face on the other side.
The sound of the impact is muffled. With my arm still covered, I sweep out the remaining glass in the frame. I’m ready to escape. The only trouble is - when they look in on me in the morning, there will be no question what has happened. It won’t help me one jot with shifting suspicion off my back.
“I saw Hooper take it.”
“I see.” He is starting to lose his temper - I can see it in the creases of his face. I have seen Harris angry a few times, with lackeys and secretaries and the like, usually over things sent late or incorrectly. But never with us. With the “brains” he has always been so cautious, treating us like children. And now I see that, like a father, he wants only to smack us when we disobey him. “I wish you’d stop with your deceptions and get to the truth, man. Every minute matters.”
I go over to the window and try to jimmy it open. Not much luck, but in my struggling I notice this window only backs on the thin little brook that runs down the back of the compound. Which means, if I smashed it, I might get away with no-one seeing.
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
No, I am content. I suppose I do not believe they will hang me. They will lock me up and continue to use my brain, if they can. I wonder what they will tell the world - perhaps that I have taken my own life. That would be simplest. The few who know me would believe it.
Well, then. Not a bad existence, in prison. Removed from temptation. A kind of imposed monasticism, with plenty more problems to solve, and more mysteries to fathom.
I wonder what else I might yet unravel before I’m done?
I settle down to wait.
Night falls. The clockwork of the heavens keeps turning, whatever state I might be in. No-one can steal the components that make the sun go down and the stars come out. I watch it performing its operations. I can’t sleep.
Has Hooper taken my bait?
“What could I do?” I’m shaking now. The night is cold and the heat-lamp in this hut has been removed, presumably to keep me alert and on edge. “I won’t go to prison.”
“You committed a crime,” Harris answers. If I had any sense that he understood my predicament, and that he felt for my state of being, it collapses like a chain with a broken link. “You thought you could repair it with another, more serious crime?” He shakes his head. “I thought you men were supposed to be clever. But this is the action of a frightened woman. So I’d like you to tell me, now. Where is it?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
The bunk has a solid metal frame, a blanket, a pillow, nothing more.
“I don’t know.”
“You can do better than that. Remember, there’s a hangman’s noose waiting for traitors.”
“I’ve done nothing that I’m ashamed of.”
“Tell me, then,” he asks. “What’s your theory? You’re a smart fellow - as smart as they come around here, and that’s saying something. What’s your opinion on the missing component? Accident, perhaps? Or do you blame one of the other men?”
From where he’s sitting, I know Hooper can see me, so I keep my head down and look guilty as sin. The bastard is probably smiling.
The Captain comes outside, pulling the door to. “What’s this?” he asks. “A confession? Just like that?”
“No,” the Commander admits, in a low voice. “I’m afraid not. Rather more a scheme. The idea is to let Hooper go and see what he does. If he believes we have Manning here in irons, he’ll try to shift the component.”
“If he has it.”
“Indeed.”
The Captain peers at me for a moment, like I was some kind of curious insect.
“Sometimes, I think you people are magicians,” he remarks. “Other times you seem more like witches. Very well.”
With that he opens the door to the Hut and goes back inside. The Commander uses the moment to hustle me roughly forward.
“This scheme of yours had better come off,” he hisses in my ear. “Otherwise the Captain is going to start having men tailing me to see where I go on Saturdays.”
“You’re right. Let me talk to him, then. As a colleague. Maybe I can get something useful out of him.”
Harris shakes his head. “He despises you, doesn’t he? I don’t see why he’d give himself up to you.”
“We’re still in ear-shot if they let Hooper go. Best get us inside and then we can talk, if we must.”
“I’ve had enough of your voice for one day,” Harris replies grimly. He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
I wait a few minutes, to be sure Hooper and the Captain will have gone, then try the door. It’s locked, all right. I’m not really one for picking locks. Never tried it. I don’t think I’ll be getting out that way.
“I broke it,” I reply. There doesn’t seem any use in trying to lie. “I thought I could escape. But I couldn’t get myself through.”
The Commander laughs. “Shame,” he remarks. “I should have left that window open and put a guard on you. Might have been interesting to see where you went. Anyway, I’m glad you’re still here, even if you do smell like a dog.”
I suppose I do not believe they will hang me. They will lock me up and continue to use my brain, if they can. I wonder what they will tell the world - perhaps that I have taken my own life. That would be simplest. The few who know me would believe it.
Well, then. Not a bad existence, in prison. Removed from temptation. A kind of imposed monasticism, with plenty more problems to solve, and more mysteries to fathom.
I wonder what else I might yet unravel before I’m done?
“I’ll work as hard as I work.”
“Get out,” Harris growls. “Before I decide to arrest you as an accessory.”
I do as he says. Outside the barrack, the air has never smelt sweeter.
I head for my dorm, intent on a bath, breakfast, a glance at the crossword before the other men get to it, and then on with work. They should have replaced the component in the Bombe by now. We will be back to it, only a day behind.
I bump into Russell in the dorm hut. “Did you hear?” he whispers. “Terrible news about Hooper. Absolutely terrible.”
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
I go over to the window and try to jimmy it open. Not much luck, but in my struggling I notice this window only backs on the thin little brook that runs down the back of the compound. Which means, if I smashed it, I might get away with no-one seeing.
“Well, then,” I answer, nervously. “What would he do? Either get rid of it straight away - or if that wasn’t possible, which it probably wouldn’t be, since he’d have to arrange things with his contacts - so most likely, he’d hide it somewhere and wait, until you had the rope around my neck and he could be sure he was safe.”
“Makes sense,” Harris agrees, cautiously. I can see he’s still not entirely convinced by my tale, as well he might not be - I’ve hardly been entirely straight with him. “Which means the question is, what can we do to rat him out?”
“I’m not sure. I was asleep: I woke up when someone broke the window. I looked out to see who it was, but they were already gone.”
Harris looks at me with puzzlement. “Someone came by to break the window, and then ran off? That’s absurd. That’s utterly absurd. Admit it, Manning. You tried to escape and you couldn’t get through.”
“I always meant to tell you,” I tell him. “I thought perhaps I could find out who they were. Lead you to them.”
Harris looks at me with contempt. “You wretched little man. Don’t think your tongue will be able to get you out of trouble. You’re going to pay for what you’ve done, and you’re going to pay dearly. If a single man loses his life because of your pride and your perversions then God help your eternal soul. The fact is you committed a crime.” If I had any sense that he understood my predicament, and that he felt for my state of being, it collapses like a chain with a broken link. “You thought you could repair it with another, more serious crime?” He shakes his head. “I thought you men were supposed to be clever. But this is the action of a frightened woman. So I’d like you to tell me, now. Where is it?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
The bucket? Hardly. The bucket might do some good if I wanted to sweep up the glass afterwards, but it won’t help me smash the glass quietly.
“I know where it is.”
Harris smiles with satisfaction, as if your willingness to talk was somehow a result of his clever techniques.
“I see.” There’s a long pause, like the endless delay between feeding in a line of cypher to the Bombe and waiting for its valves and cylinders to heat up enough to being processing. “Would you like to explain?”
“I’m looking forward to a long bath,” I reply. “And getting back to work.”
“Well, I’m afraid it is going to get worse for you,” Harris replies soberly. “We followed Hooper, and he took himself neatly to bed and slept like a boy scout. Which puts us back to square one, and you firmly in the frame. And I’m afraid I don’t have time for any more games. I want you to tell me where that component is, or we will hang you as a traitor.”
He passes a hand across his eyes with a long look of despair.
“I’m going to go outside and organise a rope. That’ll take about twelve minutes. That’s how long you have to decide.”
Making a wide circuit I creep around the tent. It has plenty of other flaps and openings, tied down with Gordian complexity. But nothing afford itself to slipping the component inside.
Still there means no-one has found it, which means it is probably well-hidden. And short of skipping the compound now, I can afford to leave it hidden there a while longer. So I leave it in place.
Where now?
The bunk has a solid metal frame, a blanket, a pillow, nothing more.
Making a wide circuit I creep around the tent. It has plenty of other flaps and openings, tied down with Gordian complexity. But nothing afford itself to slipping the component inside.
The blanket. Perfect. I scoop it up off the bed and hold it in place over the window. This should do it. Then I heft my shoe by its toe, and take a strong swing, trying to imagine it’s Harris’ face on the other side.
The sound of the impact is muffled. With my arm still covered, I sweep out the remaining glass in the frame. I’m ready to escape. The only trouble is - when they look in on me in the morning, there will be no question what has happened. It won’t help me one jot with shifting suspicion off my back.
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
“You’re right.” I shake my head. “You’re right. I don’t see how I can help you after all. So, there’s only one conclusion.”
“Oh, yes? And what’s that?”
“It’s your problem. Your security breach. So much for your careful vetting process.” I lean back in my chair and fold my arms so the way they shake will not be visible. “You’d better get on with solving it, instead of wasting your time in here with me.”
Harris harrumphs. He’s thinking it all over.
“No. Not for more than a moment, of course. Everyone here is marked out by how little we would be willing to say about it.”
“Only you told this young man more than a little, didn’t you?”
I nod. “He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
“I don’t have it any more. I passed it through the fence to my contact straight after taking it, before it was discovered to be missing. It would have been idiocy to do differently. It’s long gone, I’m afraid.”
“You fool, Manning,” Harris curses, getting quickly to his feet. “You utter fool. Do you suppose you will be any better off living under Hitler? It’s men like you who will get us all killed. Men too feeble, too weak in their hearts to stand up and take a man’s responsibility for the world. You’re happier to stay a child all your life and play with your little childish toys.”
“No, Harris. The young man wasn’t blackmailing me.” I take a deep breath. “It was Hooper.”
“Now look here,” Harris interrupts. “Don’t start that again.”
“It’s the truth, Harris. If I’m going to jail, then so be it, but I won’t hang at Traitor’s Gate. Hooper was the one who told the boy about our work. Hooper put the boy on to me. And then, once he had me compromised, he demanded I steal the part from the machine.”
“Which you did.” Harris leans forward. “And then what? You still have it? You put it somewhere?”
The weight of the Bombe component safely in my jacket, I return the short way up the paths between the huts to the barrack block and the broken window.
It’s a little harder getting back through - the window is higher off the ground than the floor inside - but after a decent bit of jumping and hauling I manage to get my elbows up, and then one leg, and finally I collapse inside, quite winded and out breath.
Enough of this place. Time for me to get moving. I can get to the train station on foot, catch the postal train to Scotland and be somewhere else before anyone realises that I’m gone.
Of course, then they’ll be looking for me in earnest. As a confirmed traitor.
“There’s nothing to explain,” I reply stiffly. “I know where your component is because it’s obvious where your component is. That doesn’t mean I took it, just because I can figure out a simple problem, any more than it means I’m a German spy because I can crack their codes.”
“Tell me, then,” he asks. “What’s your theory? You’re a smart fellow - as smart as they come around here, and that’s saying something. What’s your opinion on the missing component? Accident, perhaps? Or do you blame one of the other men?”
“You can’t do this!” I cry. “It’s murder! I demand a trial, a lawyer; for God’s sake, man, you can’t just throw me overboard, we’re not barbarians...!”
“You leave me no choice,” Harris snaps back, eyes cold as gun-metal. “You and your damn cyphers. Your damn clever problems. If men like you didn’t exist, if we could just all be straight with one another.” He gets to his feet and heads for the door. “I fear for the future of this world, with men like you in. Reich or no Reich, Mr Manning, people like you simply complicate matters.”
Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
I wait a few minutes, to be sure the Commander will have gone, then try the door. It’s locked, all right. I’m not really one for picking locks. Never tried it. I don’t think I’ll be getting out that way.
From outside, I hear a voice. Hooper’s. He’s haranguing someone, for something.
“I’ve done nothing that I’m ashamed of.”
“Tell me, then,” he asks. “What’s your theory? You’re a smart fellow - as smart as they come around here, and that’s saying something. What’s your opinion on the missing component? Accident, perhaps? Or do you blame one of the other men?”
Ah, but of course! I slip off one shoe and heft it by the toe. The heel will make a decent enough hammer, if I give it enough wallop.
But I’ll cut my hand to ribbons doing it. And the noise would be terrible. There must be a way of making this easier. I’m supposed to be a thief now. What would a burglar do?
“I saw Hooper take it.”
“I see.” He is starting to lose his temper - I can see it in the creases of his face. I have seen Harris angry a few times, with lackeys and secretaries and the like, usually over things sent late or incorrectly. But never with us. With the “brains” he has always been so cautious, treating us like children. And now I see that, like a father, he wants only to smack us when we disobey him. “I wish you’d stop with your deceptions and get to the truth, man. Every minute matters.”
“What could I do?” I’m shaking now. The night is cold and the heat-lamp in this hut has been removed, presumably to keep me alert and on edge. “I won’t go to prison.”
“You committed a crime,” Harris answers. If I had any sense that he understood my predicament, and that he felt for my state of being, it collapses like a chain with a broken link. “You thought you could repair it with another, more serious crime?” He shakes his head. “I thought you men were supposed to be clever. But this is the action of a frightened woman. So I’d like you to tell me, now. Where is it?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
“Well, then,” I answer, nervously. “What would he do? Either get rid of it straight away - or if that wasn’t possible, which it probably wouldn’t be, since he’d have to arrange things with his contacts - so most likely, he’d hide it somewhere and wait, until you had the rope around my neck and he could be sure he was safe.”
“Makes sense,” Harris agrees, cautiously. I can see he’s still not certain whether he can trust me. “Which means the question is, what can we do to rat him out?”
I lift the cup and take a sip, staring him hard in the eye as I do so. He watches as I do so.
“Lapsang Souchong,” he remarks, placing his own cup down on the table with a clink. “Such a curious flavour. It might almost not be tea at all. You might say it hides a multitude of sins. As do you, isn’t that correct?”
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
I wait a few minutes, to be sure Hooper and the Captain will have gone, then try the door. It’s locked, all right. I’m not really one for picking locks. Never tried it. I don’t think I’ll be getting out that way.
“Damn right I’m sore. Was it one of the others who put you up to this? Was it Hooper? He’s always been jealous of me. He’s...”
The Commander moustache bristles as he purses his lips. “Has he now? Of your achievements, do you think?” It’s difficult not to shake the sense that he’s humouring me.
“Or of your brain? Or something else?”
I pause a moment, trying to choose my words. To just come out and say it, after a lifetime of hiding... I wouldn’t know how. To put it into words, bluntly and directly: that is a circle I cannot square.
“I’ve done things,” I begin, uncomfortably. “I didn’t want to. I tried not to. But in the end, you understand. I had to. It felt like cutting off my own arm not to. Things I know I shouldn’t have. Things I perhaps regret.”
“I see,” Harris answers. “You’ve left yourself open. To pressure. Is that what you’re saying?”
“I don’t need twelve minutes. The component is in the long grass behind Hooper’s tent. I threw it there hoping to somehow frame him, but now I see that won’t be possible. I was naive, I suppose.”
“Indeed you were. And, Mr Manning: God help you if you’re lying to me.”
Harris stands, and slips away smartly. Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
“Yes, I considered it. He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
“No. I have no idea.”
“Come now,” Harris says, quite the reasonable gent. “I think you can be a little more forthcoming.”
I will have to leave that question for another day. To return there now, when they’re probably watching my every step, would be suicide. After all, if Hooper followed my clue, he will have explained it to them to save his neck. They won’t believe him - but they won’t quite disbelieve him either. We’re locked in a cycle now, him and me, of half-truth and probability. There’s nothing either of us can do to put the other entirely into blame.
Nothing, that is, except to act as if there is no game being played. I’ll have a bath, then start work as normal. I’ve got a week to find something to give my blackmailer - or give him nothing: it seems my superiors know about my indiscretions now already. Something will turn up.
“So would you,” I reply tartly. Harris raises an eyebrow.
“I’ve been through worse than this,” he replies matter-of-factly. “It’s hardly my fault if you sleep in your clothes.”
I glare back at him.
He goes over to the window, unlocks it and throws it open, relishing the fresh air from outside. “Hooper’s confessed, you know.”
“I don’t know what I’m suggesting. I don’t understand what’s going on.”
“But of course you do.” Harris narrows his eyes. “Let’s get straight to the point. Do you have the component?” Harris demands. “Do you know where it is?”
“I don’t know what gives you the right to pick on me. I demand a lawyer.”
“This is time of war,” Harris answers. His tone of voice has fallen down into darkness. “And by God, if I have to shoot you to recover the component or stop it falling into the wrong hands, I will, do you understand me?”
There’s an icy silence. I’ve cracked him a little at least. He’s angry. He waves an impetuous hand across the field table.
“Now, drink your tea and talk.”
I say nothing, my lips tightly, firmly sealed. It’s true I am a traitor, to the very laws of nature. The world has taught me that since a very early age. But not to my country - should the Reich win this war, I would hardly be treated as an honoured hero. I was doomed from the very start.
I explain none of this. How could a man like Harris understand?
The Commander takes one look back from the doorway as he pulls it to.
“It’s been a pleasure working with you, Mr Manning,” he declares. “You’ve done a great service to this country. If we come through, I’m sure they’ll remember you name. I’m sorry it had to end this way and I’ll do my best to keep it quiet. No-one need know what you did.”
The Commander holds the door for his superior, and follows him out. Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
“He’s petty enough, certainly. He’s a creep.” I wipe a hand across my forehead. “All I can say is, ever since I arrived here, he’s been looking to ways to bring me down a peg. I wouldn’t be surprised if he set this whole affair up just to have me court-martialled.”
“We don’t court-martial civilians,” Harris replies. “Traitors are simply hung at her Majesty’s pleasure.”
“I’m looking forward to a long bath,” I reply. “And getting back to work.”
“Well, I’m afraid it is going to get worse for you,” Harris replies soberly. “We followed Hooper, and he took himself neatly to bed and slept like a boy scout. Which puts us back to square one, and you firmly in the frame. And I’m afraid I don’t have time for any more games. I want you to tell me where that component is, or we will hang you as a traitor.”
He passes a hand across his eyes with a long look of despair.
“I’m going to go outside and organise a rope. That’ll take about twelve minutes. That’s how long you have to decide.”
“I know nothing about it.” My voice is shaking with anger as I try to speak. I’m not accustomed to facing off against the Commander - against any man with a gun in his holster. “I don’t know what gives you the right to pick on me. I demand a lawyer.”
“This is time of war,” Harris answers. His tone of voice has fallen down into darkness. “And by God, if I have to shoot you to recover the component or stop it falling into the wrong hands, I will, do you understand me?”
There’s an icy silence. He’s angry. He waves an impetuous hand across the field table.
“Now, drink your tea and talk.”
No. What would be the use? He will be long gone, and the name he told me is no doubt hokum. No: I was alone before in guilt, and I am thus alone again.
Harris put the cuffs around my wrists. “I still have the intercept in my pocket,” I remark. “Wherever we’re going, could I have a pencil?”
He looks me in the eye.
“Certainly. And one of your computing things, if I get my way. And when we’re old, and smoking pipes together in The Rag like heroes, I’ll explain to you the way that decent men have affairs. You scientists.” He drags me up to my feet. “You think you have to re-invent everything.”
With that, he hustles me out of the door and I can’t help thinking that, with a little more strategy, I could still have won the day. But too late now, of course.
“All right,” he declares, gruffly. “We’ll try it. But if this doesn’t work, I might just put the both of you in front of a firing squad and be done with these games. Worse things happen in time of war, you know.”
“Alone,” I add.
“Alone?”
“Alone.”
Harris considers it. I watch his eyes, flicking backwards and forwards over mine, like a ribbon-reader trying to load in its program.
It’s no good. That’s only half a solution. I couldn’t be happy with that.
“No. Not for more than a moment, of course. Everyone here is marked out by how little we would be willing to say about it.”
“Only you told this young man more than a little, didn’t you?”
I nod. “He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
The bucket? Hardly. The bucket might do some good if I wanted to sweep up the glass afterwards, but it won’t help me smash the glass quietly.
“I’m sure you’ve handled worse,” I reply casually, sipping at my tea as if we were the best of friends.
His gaze is unexpressive: I’ve seen Harris broad and full of laughter, but today he is rigid, as much part of the military machine as the devices in Hut 5.
“I’m sorry to pull you up so roughly,” he says. “But you know why you’re here, of course.”
I look in through the door and catch Hooper’s expression. I had half expected him to be smiling be he isn’t. He looks shocked, almost hurt. “Iain,” he murmurs. “You couldn’t...”
The Captain comes outside, pulling the door to. “What’s this?” he asks. “A confession? Just like that?”
“No,” the Commander admits, in a low voice. “I’m afraid not. Rather more a scheme. The idea is to let Hooper go and see what he does. If he believes we have Manning here in irons, he’ll try to shift the component.”
“If he has it.”
“Indeed.”
The Captain peers at me for a moment, like I was some kind of curious insect.
“Sometimes, I think you people are magicians,” he remarks. “Other times you seem more like witches. Very well.”
With that he opens the door to the Hut and goes back inside. The Commander uses the moment to hustle me roughly forward.
“This scheme of yours had better come off,” he hisses in my ear. “Otherwise the Captain is going to start having men tailing me to see where I go on Saturdays.”
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
The bunk has a solid metal frame, a blanket, a pillow, nothing more.
“It’s your problem. Your security breach. So much for your careful vetting process.” I lean back in my chair and fold my arms so the way they shake will not be visible. “You’d better get on with solving it, instead of wasting your time in here with me.”
Harris harrumphs. He’s thinking it all over.
I see. Perhaps you think I bullied the man into giving himself up. Perhaps he understood my little clue far enough to know it was a threat against him, but not well enough to understand where he should look to find it. So he took the easy route out and folded. Gave me the hand.
Hardly sporting, is that it?
“Yes.”
Harris stares back at me.
“I see.” There’s a long pause, like the endless delay between feeding in a line of cypher to the Bombe and waiting for its valves and cylinders to heat up enough to being processing. “Would you like to explain?”
“I’m no traitor,” I answer smartly.
He stares back at me. “Let’s get straight to the point. Do you have the component?” Harris demands. “Do you know where it is?”
“No. I passed it on to Hooper.”
“I see. And what did he do with it?”
“I don’t think Hooper could have planned this in advance. So he’d need to get word to whoever he’s working with, and that would take time. So I think he would have hidden it somewhere, and be waiting to make sure I soundly take the fall. That way, if anything goes wrong, he can arrange for the part to be conveniently re-found.”
“Makes sense,” Harris agrees, cautiously. I can see he’s still not certain whether he can trust me. “Which means the question is, what can we do to rat him out?”
Work carefully? It’s difficult to work carefully when all one’s has is a bucket. It’s rather like the sledgehammer for the proverbial nut.
I suppose my fist would do a good enough job. But I’d cut myself to ribbons, most likely. And the noise would be terrible. There must be a way of making this easier. I’m supposed to be a thief now. What would a burglar do?
I wait a few minutes, to be sure Hooper and the Captain will have gone, then try the door. It’s locked, all right. I’m not really one for picking locks. Never tried it. I don’t think I’ll be getting out that way.
“Explain what you should be doing, do you mean, rather than bullying me? Certainly.” I fold my arms. “I know where your component is because it’s obvious where your component is. That doesn’t mean I took it, just because I can figure out a simple problem, any more than it means I’m a German spy because I can crack their codes.”
“Tell me, then,” he asks. “What’s your theory? You’re a smart fellow - as smart as they come around here, and that’s saying something. What’s your opinion on the missing component? Accident, perhaps? Or do you blame one of the other men?”
“It’s not that bad. I can still fix it.”
Harris shakes his head. “This isn’t a problem to be cracked. This isn’t a puzzle. I’m sorry, but this is bigger than you now. Look. You can go to prison for what you’ve done, or we can change your identity and move you somewhere where your... indiscretions... can’t hurt anyone any more. But right now none of that matters. What happens to you, doesn’t matter. All that matters is where that component is. So I’d like you to tell me, now. Where is it?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
“I’d be happy to help,” I answer, sympathetically, leaning forward across the table. “I’m sure there’s something I could do.”
“Like what, exactly?”
“I can imagine how being surrounded by clever men is pretty threatening for you, Commander,” I reply with a sneer. “They don’t train you to think in the Armed Forces.”
“Talk,” Harris demands. “Talk, now. Tell me where you’ve hidden it or who you’ve passed it to. Or God help me, but I’ll take your wretched pansy body to pieces looking for it, do you understand me?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
“No.”
“Too bad.” Harris opens the door and pushes me inside. “Captain,” he calls. “Could I have a moment?”
The Captain, looking puzzled, steps out. The door is closed. Hooper stares at me, open-mouthed, about to say something. I probably have less than a minute before the Captain storms back in and declares this plan to be bunkum.
I shift in my seat. “Not really. The boy was a simpleton, obviously. My intellectual inferior. His good opinion meant nothing to be. Harris, please do not misunderstand me. I was simply after his body.”
Harris, to his credit, doesn’t flinch. Well, perhaps not: but he’ll have nightmares of this moment tonight. I’m almost tempted to reach out and try to take his hand to worsen it for him, but I hold back.
“Go on with your confession,” he replies. I shrug.
“There’s not much else to say. I took the part from Bombe computing device. You seem to know that already. I had to. He was going to expose me if I didn’t.”
“This young man was blackmailing you over your affair?”
Next. To Hooper’s dorm. Time to wrap up this little game once and for all.
I creep around the outside of the Huts. All are quiet, steel-grey in the hazy moonlight; a few shining copper from arc-lamps strung from the trees. A few guards patrol the area at night but not many - after all, very few know this place even exists.
Our quarters are arranged away from the House; where we sleep is of less importance than where we work. We each have our own Hut, through some are less permanent than other’s. Hooper’s is a military issue tent: quite a large canopy, with two rooms inside and a short porch area where he insists people leave their shoes. It’s all zipped up for the night and no light shines from inside.
I hang back for a moment. If Harris is keeping to the terms of our deal then someone will be watching this place. But I can see no-one.
“I don’t know.”
“You can do better than that. Remember, there’s a hangman’s noose waiting for traitors.”
The bucket? Hardly. The bucket might do some good if I wanted to sweep up the glass afterwards, but it won’t help me smash the glass quietly.
“We’ll fool him. He’s waiting to be sure that I’ve been strung up for this, so let’s give him what he wants. If he sees me taken away, clapped in irons - he’ll go straight to that component and set about getting rid of it.”
Harris gets to his feet. “All right,” he says. “I should no better than to trust a clever man, but we’ll give it a go.” Then, he smiles, with all his teeth, like a wolf. “Hooper’s in Hut 3 being debriefed by the Captain. Let’s see if we can’t get his attention somehow.”
He raps on the door for the guard and gives the man a quick instruction. He returns a moment later with a cool pair of iron cuffs.
“Put ‘em up,” Harris instructs, and I do so. The metal closes around my wrists like a trap. I stand and follow Harris willingly out through the door.
But whatever I’m doing with my body, my mind is scheming. Somehow, I’m thinking, I have to get away from these men long enough to get that component behind Hut 2 and put it somewhere Hooper will go. Or, otherwise, somehow get Hooper to go there himself...
Harris marches me over to Hut 3, and gestures for the guard to stand aside. Pushing me forward, he opens the door nice and wide.
“Captain. Manning talked. If you’d step out for a moment?”
I wait a few minutes, to be sure Hooper and the Captain will have gone, then try the door. It’s locked, all right. I’m not really one for picking locks. Never tried it. I don’t think I’ll be getting out that way.
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
“Very well then.” I swallow nervously, to make it look more genuine. “No. I passed it on to Hooper.”
“I see. And what did he do with it?”
I go over to the window and try to jimmy it open. Not much luck, but in my struggling I notice this window only backs on the thin little brook that runs down the back of the compound. Which means, if I smashed it, I might get away with no-one seeing.
“We’re still in ear-shot if they let Hooper go. Best get us inside and then we can talk, if we must.”
“I’ve had enough of your voice for one day,” Harris replies grimly. He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
“I don’t know what I’m suggesting. I don’t understand what’s going on.”
“But of course you do.” Harris narrows his eyes. “Let’s get straight to the point. Do you have the component?” Harris demands. “Do you know where it is?”
“No. I have no idea.”
He’s talking about the missing reel from the Bombe. Russell discovered it this afternoon when the machine began producing strange results. We were all in the Hut when it happened and it had been in place when we sat down to work. The conclusions had been obvious to all four of us immediately, but had gone undiscussed, even after the empty socket was located, the wiring torn on either side.
“Lucky these things are easy to replace,” Russell had remarked, and that had been that. We had stopped work, sent out for a new part to be machined. And drunk our tea and watched each other.
“Come now,” Harris says, quite the reasonable gent. “As I told you. We’re not interviewing everyone. Only you. So. I think you can be a little more forthcoming.”
Work carefully? It’s difficult to work carefully when all one’s has is nothing but brute force.
I settle down to wait.
Night falls. The clockwork of the heavens keeps turning, whatever state I might be in. No-one can steal the components that make the sun go down and the stars come out. I watch it performing its operations. I can’t sleep.
“Very well then.” I swallow nervously, to make it look more genuine. “No. I passed it on to Hooper.”
“I see. And what did he do with it?”
Enough of this place. Time for me to get moving. I can get to the train station on foot, catch the postal train to Scotland and be somewhere else before anyone realises that I’m gone.
Of course, then they’ll be looking for me in earnest. As a confirmed traitor.
I have a single moment to shout something to Hooper before the door closes.
“I’ll get you Hooper, you’ll see!” I cry. Then:
“All right.” With a sigh, your defiance collapses."If you’re searched my things then I suppose you’ve found... what you need.
Harris nods once. “I’ve seen the same story a hundred times before,” he says. “A young man like yourself - clever, somewhat removed from the world. The kind that doesn’t go to parties, you might say. Who takes himself a little too seriously, perhaps. Takes things too far. Further than a man should allow a thing to go. That’s the story, isn’t it? You took things too far, and then you couldn’t take them back. And now they have you.”
“The Captain thought it was a good scheme. You’ll most likely get a promotion.”
“Let’s hope things work out,” Harris agrees darkly.
He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
No, I am content. I suppose I do not believe they will hang me. They will lock me up and continue to use my brain, if they can. I wonder what they will tell the world - perhaps that I have taken my own life. That would be simplest. The few who know me would believe it.
Well, then. Not a bad existence, in prison. Removed from temptation. A kind of imposed monasticism, with plenty more problems to solve, and more mysteries to fathom.
I wonder what else I might yet unravel before I’m done?
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
“I’m no traitor, damn it. You know I’m not. How much work have I done here? Against the Germans? Cracking their codes? Understanding their secrets? I’ve given it my all! And you know as well as I do, if the Reich were to invade, I would be a dead man for being what I am. So please, Hooper. I’m not doing any of this lightly. But I’m in a jam!”
“Assuming I wanted to help you,” he replies, carefully. “Which I don’t. What would I do?”
“Nothing. Almost nothing.
All you have to do is go to the back of Hut 2. There’s a breeze-block with a cavity. That’s where I’ve put it. I’ll be locked up overnight, I should think. But you can pick it up and pass it to my contact. He’ll be at the south fence around two AM."
“If you think I’ll do that then you’re crazy,” Hooper replies.
At that moment the door flies open and the Captain comes storming back inside.
Harris hustles me over to the barracks. “I hope that’s the end of it,” he mutters as he pushes me up the steps.
“Just be sure to let him out,” I reply. “And then see where he goes.”
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
The rest of the night passes slowly. I sleep a little, dozing mostly. Then I’m woken by the rooster in the yard. The door opens, and Harris comes in. He takes one look at the broken window and frowns with puzzlement.
“What happened there?”
“Look, I know where it is. The missing piece of the Bombe is in the long grasses behind Hooper’s tent. I saw him throw it there right after we finished work. He knew you’d scour the camp but I suppose he thought you’d more obvious places first. I suppose he was right about that. Look there. That proves his guilt.”
“That doesn’t prove anything,” Harris returns sharply. “But we’ll check what you say, all the same.” He gets to his feet and heads out of the door.
Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
The rest of the night passes slowly. I sleep a little, dozing mostly. Then I’m woken by the rooster in the yard. The door opens, and Harris comes in. He takes one look at the broken window and frowns with puzzlement.
“What happened there?”
“Try me. Just me and him.”
“Alone?”
“Alone.”
Harris considers it. I watch his eyes, flicking backwards and forwards over mine, like a ribbon-reader trying to load in its program.
“Very well then.” I swallow nervously, to make it look more genuine. “No. I passed it on to Hooper.”
“I see. And what did he do with it?”
“I’m fine,” I reply. “This is all some misunderstanding and the quicker we have it cleared up the better.”
“I couldn’t agree more.” And then he comes right out with it, with an accusation. “Let’s get straight to the point. Do you have the component?” Harris demands. “Do you know where it is?”
“I’m no traitor,” I answer smartly.
He stares back at me. “Let’s get straight to the point. Do you have the component?” Harris demands. “Do you know where it is?”
“We’re still in ear-shot if they let Hooper go. Best get us inside and then we can talk, if we must.”
“I’ve had enough of your voice for one day,” Harris replies grimly. He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. I can only hope that Hooper bites on my baited hook. If he thinks I’m mad and bitter enough to have framed him somehow, and arrogant enough to have taunted him with a clue to where the damning evidence is hidden... if he hates me enough, and is paranoid enough, then he might unravel my little riddle and go searching around Hut 2.
Thinking back, I should have wrapped the part from the Bombe in one of his shirts before hiding it, that would have been a clever move. I really do make a terrible spy.
Next. To Hooper’s dorm. Time to wrap up this little game once and for all.
I creep around the outside of the Huts. All are quiet, steel-grey in the hazy moonlight; a few shining copper from arc-lamps strung from the trees. A few guards patrol the area at night but not many - after all, very few know this place even exists.
Our quarters are arranged away from the House; where we sleep is of less importance than where we work. We each have our own Hut, through some are less permanent than other’s. Hooper’s is a military issue tent: quite a large canopy, with two rooms inside and a short porch area where he insists people leave their shoes. It’s all zipped up for the night and no light shines from inside.
I hang back for a moment. If Harris is keeping to the terms of our deal then someone will be watching this place. But I can see no-one.
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
“No, Harris. The young man wasn’t blackmailing me.” I take a deep breath. “It was Hooper.”
“Now look here,” Harris interrupts. “Don’t start that again.”
“It’s the truth, Harris. If I’m going to jail, then so be it, but I won’t hang at Traitor’s Gate. Hooper was the one who told the boy about our work. Hooper put the boy on to me. And then, once he had me compromised, he demanded I steal the part from the machine.”
“Which you did.” Harris leans forward. “And then what? You still have it? You put it somewhere?”
The rest of the night passes slowly. I sleep a little, dozing mostly. Then I’m woken by the rooster in the yard. The door opens, and Harris comes in. He takes one look at the broken window and frowns with puzzlement.
“What happened there?”
“No, I don’t. I’ve got work I should be doing tomorrow, and I need my rest...”
“Work that will be difficult for you to do, don’t you think?” Harris replies.
“They’ll have made a replacement by tomorrow,” I reply. “The war doesn’t stop over one missing reel.”
The reel went missing from the Bombe this afternoon. The four of us were in the Hut at the time, working on the latest intercept. It was Russell who noticed the machine producing strange results and found the gap in its plugboard. But as to who took it - it could have been any of us.
And indeed, it must have been. The machine had been functioning as normal when we began our calculations. And then, a short few hours later, it was gone. We had to stop. There was nothing more we could do until it was replaced. The part was vital, just as the machine was vital, and so were the contents of the message, still unread twenty four hours later.
“Let’s get straight to the point. Do you have the component?” Harris demands. “Do you know where it is?”
The bucket? Hardly. The bucket might do some good if I wanted to sweep up the glass afterwards, but it won’t help me smash the glass quietly.
“It will. Hooper’s running scared,” I reply, hoping I sound more confident than I feel.
“I think we’ve had enough drama today already,” Harris replies. “Let’s hope for a clean kill.”
He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
Work carefully? It’s difficult to work carefully when all one’s has is nothing but brute force.
“I don’t know what gives you the right to pick on me. I demand a lawyer.”
“This is time of war,” Harris answers. His tone of voice has fallen down into darkness. “And by God, if I have to shoot you to recover the component or stop it falling into the wrong hands, I will, do you understand me?”
There’s an icy silence. He’s angry. He waves an impetuous hand across the field table.
“Now, drink your tea and talk.”
“Yes. Something like that. It’s a very lonely life otherwise. And the work we do - well. It only makes it worse. There’s barely a moment to oneself.”
“That’s how it is in the Service,” Harris answers. “I know you didn’t sign up for it but, well. There’s plenty of other men who didn’t who are serving now, too. Now, go on with your confession.”
That gives me pause, for a moment. I hadn’t thought of it as such. But I suppose that’s what this is. I am about to admit what I did, after all.
“There’s not much else to say. I took the part from Bombe computing device. You seem to know that already. I had to. He was going to expose me if I didn’t.”
“This young man was blackmailing you over your affair?”
“I don’t know.”
“You can do better than that. Remember, there’s a hangman’s noose waiting for traitors.”
“I don’t think Hooper could have planned this in advance. So he’d need to get word to whoever he’s working with, and that would take time. So I think he would have hidden it somewhere, and be waiting to make sure I soundly take the fall. That way, if anything goes wrong, he can arrange for the part to be conveniently re-found.”
“Makes sense,” Harris agrees, cautiously. I can see he’s still not certain whether he can trust me. “Which means the question is, what can we do to rat him out?”
Well, then. To Hooper’s dorm. Time to wrap up this little game once and for all.
I creep around the outside of the Huts. All are quiet, steel-grey in the hazy moonlight; a few shining copper from arc-lamps strung from the trees. A few guards patrol the area at night but not many - after all, very few know this place even exists.
Our quarters are arranged away from the House; where we sleep is of less importance than where we work. We each have our own Hut, through some are less permanent than other’s. Hooper’s is a military issue tent: quite a large canopy, with two rooms inside and a short porch area where he insists people leave their shoes. It’s all zipped up for the night and no light shines from inside.
I hang back for a moment. If Harris is keeping to the terms of our deal then someone will be watching this place. But I can see no-one.
I set the cup carefully down on the table once more. “Why?” I ask coldly. “What’s in it?”
“Lapsang Souchong,” he remarks, placing his own cup down on the table with a clink. “Such a curious flavour. It might almost not be tea at all. You might say it hides a multitude of sins. As do you, isn’t that correct?”
“That’s not important now. What matters is what you do, this evening. All you have to do is go to the back of Hut 2. There’s a breeze-block with a cavity. That’s where I’ve put it. I’ll be locked up overnight, I should think. But you can pick it up and pass it to my contact. He’ll be at the south fence around two AM.”
“If you think I’ll do that then you’re crazy,” Hooper replies.
At that moment the door flies open and the Captain comes storming back inside.
Harris hustles me over to the barracks. “I hope that’s the end of it,” he mutters as he pushes me up the steps.
“Just be sure to let him out,” I reply. “And then see where he goes.”
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
“That’s not important now. What matters is what you do, this evening. All you have to do is go to the back of Hut 2. There’s a breeze-block with a cavity. That’s where I’ve put it. I’ll be locked up overnight, I should think. But you can pick it up and pass it to my contact. He’ll be at the south fence around two AM.”
“If you think I’ll do that then you’re crazy,” Hooper replies.
At that moment the door flies open and the Captain comes storming back inside.
Harris hustles me over to the barracks. “I hope that’s the end of it,” he mutters as he pushes me up the steps.
“Just be sure to let him out,” I reply. “And then see where he goes.”
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
I put my ear down to the keyhole, but there’s nothing now. Probably still a guard outside, of course, but they’re keeping mum.
Morning comes slowly, but I must fall asleep at some point, because the next thing I know the rooster is calling and a cool, fresh breeze is blowing through the open window. I barely have time to wipe the sleep from my eyes and brush myself down before the door opens and Harris enters.
He takes one look around, and sighs, a deep, wistful sigh.
“Things just get worse and worse for you, Manning,” he remarks. “You are your own worst enemy.”
“I don’t think Hooper could have planned this in advance. So he’d need to get word to whoever he’s working with, and that would take time. So I think he would have hidden it somewhere, and be waiting to make sure I soundly take the fall. That way, if anything goes wrong, he can arrange for the part to be conveniently re-found.”
“Makes sense,” Harris agrees, cautiously. I can see he’s still not certain whether he can trust me. “Which means the question is, what can we do to rat him out?”
“Just adding to the drama,” I tell him, confidently. “I’m sure you can understand that.”
“I think we’ve had enough drama today already,” Harris replies. “Let’s hope for a clean kill.”
He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. I can only hope that Hooper bites on my baited hook. If he thinks I’m mad and bitter enough to have framed him somehow, and arrogant enough to have taunted him with a clue to where the damning evidence is hidden... if he hates me enough, and is paranoid enough, then he might unravel my little riddle and go searching around Hut 2.
Thinking back, I should have wrapped the part from the Bombe in one of his shirts before hiding it, that would have been a clever move. I really do make a terrible spy.
“I’m not trying to do anything except save my neck.”
“Let’s hope things work out,” Harris agrees darkly.
He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
Making a wide circuit I creep around the tent. It has plenty of other flaps and openings, tied down with Gordian complexity. But nothing afford itself to slipping the component inside.
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
I lean back. “It’s your problem. Your security breach. So much for your careful vetting process.” I lean back in my chair and fold my arms so the way they shake will not be visible. “You’d better get on with solving it, instead of wasting your time in here with me.”
Harris harrumphs. He’s thinking it all over.
“We’re still in ear-shot if they let Hooper go. Best get us inside and then we can talk, if we must.”
“I’ve had enough of your voice for one day,” Harris replies grimly. He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. I can only hope that Hooper bites on my baited hook. If he thinks I’m mad and bitter enough to have framed him somehow, and arrogant enough to have taunted him with a clue to where the damning evidence is hidden... if he hates me enough, and is paranoid enough, then he might unravel my little riddle and go searching around Hut 2.
Thinking back, I should have wrapped the part from the Bombe in one of his shirts before hiding it, that would have been a clever move. I really do make a terrible spy.
I have no God to make peace with. I find it difficult to believe in goodness of any kind, in a world such as this.
I have no place here. No way to fit. I am the intercept - caught, in the middle, cryptic and understood only thinly, through devices and machines.
“Yes.”
Harris smiles with satisfaction, as if your willingness to talk was somehow a result of his clever techniques.
“I see.” There’s a long pause, like the endless delay between feeding in a line of cypher to the Bombe and waiting for its valves and cylinders to heat up enough to being processing. “Would you like to explain?”
“We’re still in ear-shot if they let Hooper go. Best get us inside and then we can talk, if we must.”
“I’ve had enough of your voice for one day,” Harris replies grimly. He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
“Here at Bletchley? Of course I do”
“Here, now,” Harris replies firmly. “We’re not talking to everyone, you understand. I can imagine you might feel pretty sore about that, old man. I can imagine you feeling picked on.”
In case I’m being followed, I divert around the perimeter of the compound. It’s a much longer path, and it takes me across some terrain that’s difficult to negotiate in the dark - muddy, and thick with thistles and nestles.
Still, I can be confident no-one is following, as I hear nothing. I crouch down behind the rear wall of Hut 2. The component is still there, wrapped in a tea-towel and shoved into a cavity in a breeze-block at the base of the Hut wall.
“That’s not important now. What matters is what you do, this evening. All you have to do is go to the back of Hut 2. There’s a breeze-block with a cavity. That’s where I’ve put it. I’ll be locked up overnight, I should think. But you can pick it up and pass it to my contact. He’ll be at the south fence around two AM.”
“If you think I’ll do that then you’re crazy,” Hooper replies.
At that moment the door flies open and the Captain comes storming back inside.
Harris hustles me over to the barracks. “I hope that’s the end of it,” he mutters as he pushes me up the steps.
“Just be sure to let him out,” I reply. “And then see where he goes.”
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
Of course not. I am alone; that is what they wanted me to be, because of who and what I love. So I have no nation, no country.
“I’m afraid we have only one option, Manning,” Harris says. “Please, man. Tell us where the component is.”
Work carefully? It’s difficult to work carefully when all one’s has is a shoe.
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
I shake my head violently, to say no, that’s not it, but whatever is wrong with tongue is wrong with neck too. I look across at the table at Harris’ face and realise with a start how sympathetic he is. Such a kind, generous man. How can I hold anything back from him?
I take another mouthful of the bitter, strange-tasting tea before answering.
“That’s exactly it,” I say quietly. “Harris. You understand. There are some things... which can get a man into a lot of trouble. Things one shouldn’t do.”
Harris, to his credit, doesn’t stiffen. He doesn’t lean away, or remove his hands from the table-top as though my condition might be infectious. I thought they trained them in the army to shoot my kind on sight but he does not.
Of course, he does not offer any sympathy either. He only nods, once. The understanding that has passed between us here is a mere turning cog in his calculations, with no meaning or righteousness to it.
“I’ve seen the same story a hundred times before,” he says. “A young man like yourself - clever, somewhat removed from the world. The kind that doesn’t go to parties, you might say. Who takes himself a little too seriously, perhaps. Takes things too far. Further than a man should allow a thing to go. That’s the story, isn’t it? You took things too far, and then you couldn’t take them back. And now they have you.”
“All right. All right. That’s exactly what happened.”
“Shame,” he remarks. “I should have left that window open and put a guard on you. Might have been interesting to see where you went. Anyway, I’m glad you’re still here, even if you do smell like a dog.”
“What could I do?” I’m shaking now. The night is cold and the heat-lamp in this hut has been removed, presumably to keep me alert and on edge. “I don’t want to go to prison.”
“You committed a crime,” Harris answers. If I had any sense that he understood my predicament, and that he felt for my state of being, it collapses like a chain with a broken link. “You thought you could repair it with another, more serious crime?” He shakes his head. “I thought you men were supposed to be clever. But this is the action of a frightened woman. So I’d like you to tell me, now. Where is it?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
If I leave the component here somewhere it should be somewhere I can rely on Hooper finding it, but no-one before Hooper. In particular.
Of course not. I am alone; that is what they wanted me to be, because of who and what I love. So I have no nation, no country.
“I’m afraid we have only one option, Manning,” Harris says. “Please, man. Tell us where the component is.”
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
I let him have his rant. He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. I can only hope that Hooper bites on my baited hook. If he thinks I’m mad and bitter enough to have framed him somehow, and arrogant enough to have taunted him with a clue to where the damning evidence is hidden... if he hates me enough, and is paranoid enough, then he might unravel my little riddle and go searching around Hut 2.
Thinking back, I should have wrapped the part from the Bombe in one of his shirts before hiding it, that would have been a clever move. I really do make a terrible spy.
I wait a few minutes, to be sure Hooper and the Captain will have gone, then try the door. It’s locked, all right. I’m not really one for picking locks. Never tried it. I don’t think I’ll be getting out that way.
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
“I can’t remember.”
He draws his gun and lays it lightly on the field table.
“I’m sorry to threaten you, friend. But His Majesty needs that brain of yours, and that brain alone. There are plenty of other parts to you that our country could do better without. Now I’ll ask you again. Did you hide the component?”
“All right. All right. That’s exactly what happened.”
“Shame,” he remarks. “I should have left that window open and put a guard on you. Might have been interesting to see where you went. Anyway, I’m glad you’re still here, even if you do smell like a dog.”
“Just adding to the drama,” I tell him, confidently. “I’m sure you can understand that.”
“I think we’ve had enough drama today already,” Harris replies. “Let’s hope for a clean kill.”
He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
“Then let him think he’s off the hook. Make a show of me. And then you’ll get your man.”
Somehow, I think. But that’s the part I need to work.
Harris gets to his feet. “All right,” he says. “I should no better than to trust a clever man, but we’ll give it a go.” Then, he smiles, with all his teeth, like a wolf. “Especially since this is a plan that involves keeping you in handcuffs. I don’t see what I have to lose.”
He raps on the door for the guard and gives the man a quick instruction. He returns a moment later with a cool pair of iron cuffs.
“Put ‘em up,” Harris instructs, and I do so. The metal closes around my wrists like a trap. I stand and follow Harris willingly out through the door.
But whatever I’m doing with my body, my mind is scheming. Somehow, I’m thinking, I have to get away from these men long enough to get that component behind Hut 2 and put it somewhere Hooper will go. Or, otherwise, somehow get Hooper to go there himself...
Harris marches me over to Hut 3, and gestures for the guard to stand aside. Pushing me forward, he opens the door nice and wide.
“Captain. Manning talked. If you’d step out for a moment?”
“Just adding to the drama,” I tell him, confidently. “I’m sure you can understand that.”
“I think we’ve had enough drama today already,” Harris replies. “Let’s hope for a clean kill.”
He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
The window is my only way out of here. I just need a way to smash it.
“Only that this process is unreasonable, and I believe you’re behaving like a swine.”
“You imbecile,” Harris replies, with sudden force. He is half out of his chair. “You know the situation as well as I do, so why all this fencing? The Hun are poised like rats, ready to run all over this country. They’ll destroy everything, you do understand that, don’t you? You’re not so locked up inside your crossword puzzles that you don’t see that, are you? And this machine we have here - you men - you are the best and only hope this country has. God help her.”
I sit back, startled by the force of his outburst. His carefully sculpted expression has curled to angry disgust and there is spit flecking his lips. He really does hate me, I think. He’ll have my neck just for the taste of it.
“How should I know?” I reply, defensively. “All I can say is, ever since I arrived here, he’s been looking to ways to bring me down a peg. I wouldn’t be surprised if he set this whole affair up just to have me court-martialled.”
“We don’t court-martial civilians,” Harris replies. “Traitors are simply hung at her Majesty’s pleasure.”
“I’m not saying anything of the sort,” I snap back. “What is this, Harris? You’re accusing me of treachery but I don’t see a shred of evidence for it! Why don’t you put your cards on the table?”
“It’s simple enough,” Harris replies. “I’ve seen the same story a hundred times before,” he says. “A young man like yourself - clever, somewhat removed from the world. The kind that doesn’t go to parties, you might say. Who takes himself a little too seriously, perhaps. Takes things too far. Further than a man should allow a thing to go. That’s the story, isn’t it? You took things too far, and then you couldn’t take them back. And now they have you.”
“Very well. I see there’s no point in covering up. You know everything anyway.”
Harris nods, and waits for me to continue.
“There was a young man, Harris. I met him in the town. A few months ago now. We got to talking - not about work. I said I was an accountant for a firm, just as I was supposed to. Although he seemed to know that wasn’t true. That got me wondering if he wasn’t one of us.”
Harris is not letting me off any more. “You seriously considered that possibility?”
“I’ve done nothing that I’m ashamed of.”
“Tell me, then,” he asks. “What’s your theory? You’re a smart fellow - as smart as they come around here, and that’s saying something. What’s your opinion on the missing component? Accident, perhaps? Or do you blame one of the other men?”
“I don’t know what gives you the right to pick on me. I demand a lawyer.”
“This is time of war,” Harris answers. His tone of voice has fallen down into darkness. “And by God, if I have to shoot you to recover the component or stop it falling into the wrong hands, I will, do you understand me?”
There’s an icy silence. He’s angry at my slippery answers. He waves an impetuous hand across the field table.
“Now, drink your tea and talk.”
“You’re right.” I shake my head. “You’re right. I don’t see how I can help you after all. So, there’s only one conclusion.”
“Oh, yes? And what’s that?”
“It’s your problem. Your security breach. So much for your careful vetting process.” I lean back in my chair and fold my arms so the way they shake will not be visible. “You’d better get on with solving it, instead of wasting your time in here with me.”
Harris harrumphs. He’s thinking it all over.
“I always meant to tell you,” I tell him. “I thought perhaps I could find out who they were. Lead you to them.”
Harris looks at me with contempt. “You wretched little man. Don’t think your tongue will be able to get you out of trouble. You’re going to pay for what you’ve done, and you’re going to pay dearly. If a single man loses his life because of your pride and your perversions then God help your eternal soul. The fact is you committed a crime.” If I had any sense that he understood my predicament, and that he felt for my state of being, it collapses like a chain with a broken link. “You thought you could repair it with another, more serious crime?” He shakes his head. “I thought you men were supposed to be clever. But this is the action of a frightened woman. So I’d like you to tell me, now. Where is it?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
“Yes. I didn’t have long, but I had long enough. The missing component of the Bombe computer is hidden in a small cavity in a breeze-block supporting the left rear post of Hut 2. I put in there anticipating a search. I intended to pass it to Hooper once the fuss had died down. I suppose I was foolish to think that it might.”
“Indeed you were. And, Mr Manning: God help you if you’re lying to me.”
Harris stands, and slips away smartly. Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
I wait a few minutes, to be sure Hooper and the Captain will have gone, then try the door. It’s locked, all right. I’m not really one for picking locks. Never tried it. I don’t think I’ll be getting out that way.
“Well?”
“We’ll be outside the door,” Harris replies, seriously. “The first sign of any funny business and we’ll have you both on the floor in minutes. You understand? The country needs your brain, but it’s not too worried about your legs. Remember that.”
Then he gets to his feet, and opens the door, and marches me out and across the yard. The evening is drawing in and there’s a chill in the air. My mind is racing. I have one opportunity here - a moment in which to put the fear of God into Hooper and make him do something foolish to place himself in harm’s way. But how to achieve it?
“You ready?” Harris demands.
I look in through the door and catch Hooper’s expression. I had half expected him to be smiling be he isn’t. He looks shocked, almost hurt. “Iain,” he murmurs. “You couldn’t...”
The Captain comes outside, pulling the door to. “What’s this?” he asks. “A confession? Just like that?”
“No,” the Commander admits, in a low voice. “I’m afraid not. Rather more a scheme. The idea is to let Hooper go and see what he does. If he believes we have Manning here in irons, he’ll try to shift the component.”
“If he has it.”
“Indeed.”
The Captain peers at me for a moment, like I was some kind of curious insect.
“Sometimes, I think you people are magicians,” he remarks. “Other times you seem more like witches. Very well.”
With that he opens the door to the Hut and goes back inside. The Commander uses the moment to hustle me roughly forward.
“This scheme of yours had better come off,” he hisses in my ear. “Otherwise the Captain is going to start having men tailing me to see where I go on Saturdays.”
Next. To Hooper’s dorm. Time to wrap up this little game once and for all.
I creep around the outside of the Huts. All are quiet, steel-grey in the hazy moonlight; a few shining copper from arc-lamps strung from the trees. A few guards patrol the area at night but not many - after all, very few know this place even exists.
Our quarters are arranged away from the House; where we sleep is of less importance than where we work. We each have our own Hut, through some are less permanent than other’s. Hooper’s is a military issue tent: quite a large canopy, with two rooms inside and a short porch area where he insists people leave their shoes. It’s all zipped up for the night and no light shines from inside.
I hang back for a moment. If Harris is keeping to the terms of our deal then someone will be watching this place. But I can see no-one.
In case I’m being followed, I divert around the perimeter of the compound. It’s a much longer path, and it takes me across some terrain that’s difficult to negotiate in the dark - muddy, and thick with thistles and nestles.
Still, I can be confident no-one is following, as I hear nothing. I crouch down behind the rear wall of Hut 2. The component is still there, wrapped in a tea-towel and shoved into a cavity in a breeze-block at the base of the Hut wall.
I put my ear down to the keyhole, but there’s nothing now. Probably still a guard outside, of course, but they’re keeping mum.
I fold my arms, intended firmly to say nothing. But somehow, watching Harris’ face, I cannot bring myself to do it. I want to confess. I want to tell him everything I can, to explain myself to him, to earn his forgiveness. The sensation is so strong my will is powerless in the face of it.
Something is wrong with me, I am sure of it. There is a strange, bitter flavour on my tongue. I taste it as words start to form.
“I’ve done things,” I begin, uncomfortably. “I didn’t want to. I tried not to. But in the end, you understand. I had to. It felt like cutting off my own arm not to. Things I know I shouldn’t have. Things I perhaps regret.”
“I see,” Harris answers. “You’ve left yourself open. To pressure. Is that what you’re saying?”
“I’m looking forward to a long bath,” I reply. “And getting back to work.”
“Well, I’m afraid it is going to get worse for you,” Harris replies soberly. “We followed Hooper, and he took himself neatly to bed and slept like a boy scout. Which puts us back to square one, and you firmly in the frame. And I’m afraid I don’t have time for any more games. I want you to tell me where that component is, or we will hang you as a traitor.”
He passes a hand across his eyes with a long look of despair.
“I’m going to go outside and organise a rope. That’ll take about twelve minutes. That’s how long you have to decide.”
“Try me. Just me and him.”
“Alone?”
“Alone.”
Harris considers it. I watch his eyes, flicking backwards and forwards over mine, like a ribbon-reader trying to load in its program.
“No. I have no idea.”
He’s talking about the missing reel from the Bombe. Russell discovered it this afternoon when the machine began producing strange results. We were all in the Hut when it happened and it had been in place when we sat down to work. The conclusions had been obvious to all four of us immediately, but had gone undiscussed, even after the empty socket was located, the wiring torn on either side.
“Lucky these things are easy to replace,” Russell had remarked, and that had been that. We had stopped work, sent out for a new part to be machined. And drunk our tea and watched each other.
“Come now,” Harris says, quite the reasonable gent. “As I told you. We’re not interviewing everyone. Only you. So. I think you can be a little more forthcoming.”
“Hooper, I’ll make a deal with you. We both know what happened in that hut this afternoon. I know because I did it, and you know because you know you didn’t. But once this is done I’ll be rich, and I’ll split that with you. I’ll let you have the results, too. Your name on the discovery of the Bombe. And it won’t hurt the war effort - you know as well as me that the component on its own is worthless, it’s the wiring of the Bombe, the usage, that’s what’s valuable. So how about it?”
Hooper looks back at me, appalled. “You’re asking me to commit treason?”
I don’t take it. I’m not having my time wasted by signs and signals. I’ve been waiting here for long enough already, after being rudely pulled from my bunk. I touch a fingertip down on the table and look him in the eye.
“What’s going on, Harris?”
“Quite a difficult situation, this,” he begins, cautiously. I’ve seen him adopting this stiff tone of voice before, but only when talking to brass. “I’m sure you agree.”
I put my ear down to the keyhole, but there’s nothing now. Probably still a guard outside, of course, but they’re keeping mum.
“Yes. Something like that. It’s a very lonely life otherwise. And the work we do - well. It only makes it worse. There’s barely a moment to oneself.”
“That’s how it is in the Service,” Harris answers. “I know you didn’t sign up for it but, well. There’s plenty of other men who didn’t who are serving now, too. Now, go on with your confession.”
That gives me pause, for a moment. I hadn’t thought of it as such. But I suppose that’s what this is. I am about to admit what I did, after all.
“There’s not much else to say. I took the part from Bombe computing device. You seem to know that already. I had to. He was going to expose me if I didn’t.”
“This young man was blackmailing you over your affair?”
“I always meant to tell you,” I tell him. “I thought perhaps I could find out who they were. Lead you to them.”
Harris looks at me with contempt. “You wretched little man. Don’t think your tongue will be able to get you out of trouble. You’re going to pay for what you’ve done, and you’re going to pay dearly. If a single man loses his life because of your pride and your perversions then God help your eternal soul. The fact is you committed a crime.” If I had any sense that he understood my predicament, and that he felt for my state of being, it collapses like a chain with a broken link. “You thought you could repair it with another, more serious crime?” He shakes his head. “I thought you men were supposed to be clever. But this is the action of a frightened woman. So I’d like you to tell me, now. Where is it?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
“Of my standing. My reputation.” I’m aware of how arrogant I must sound but I plough on all the same. “Hooper simply can’t bear knowing that, once all this is over, I’ll be the one receiving the knighthood and he...”
“No-one will be getting a knighthood if the Germans invade,” Harris answers sharply. He casts a quick eye to the door of the Hut to check the latch is still down, then continues in more of a murmur: “Not you and not Hooper. Now answer me.” For the first time since the door closed, I wonder what the threat might be if I do not.
“Let’s get straight to the point. Do you have the component?” Harris demands. “Do you know where it is?”
“I can’t remember.”
He draws his gun and lays it lightly on the field table.
“I’m sorry to threaten you, friend. But His Majesty needs that brain of yours, and that brain alone. There are plenty of other parts to you that our country could do better without. Now I’ll ask you again. Did you hide the component?”
“You want me to tell you what happened? You’ll be disgusted, I’m quite sure.”
“I can imagine how it starts,” he growls.
“There was a young man, Harris. I met him in the town. A few months ago now. We got to talking - not about work. I said I was an accountant for a firm, just as I was supposed to. Although he seemed to know that wasn’t true. That got me wondering if he wasn’t one of us.”
Harris is not letting me off any more. “You seriously considered that possibility?”
“Yes.”
Harris stares back at me.
“I see.” There’s a long pause, like the endless delay between feeding in a line of cypher to the Bombe and waiting for its valves and cylinders to heat up enough to being processing. “Would you like to explain?”
The bucket? Hardly. The bucket might do some good if I wanted to sweep up the glass afterwards, but it won’t help me smash the glass quietly.
“I was quite certain, after a while. After we’d been talking. He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
I settle down to wait.
Night falls. The clockwork of the heavens keeps turning, whatever state I might be in. No-one can steal the components that make the sun go down and the stars come out. I watch it performing its operations. I can’t sleep.
I look in through the door and catch Hooper’s expression. I had half expected him to be smiling be he isn’t. He looks shocked, almost hurt. “Iain,” he murmurs. “You couldn’t...”
The Captain comes outside, pulling the door to. “What’s this?” he asks. “A confession? Just like that?”
“No,” the Commander admits, in a low voice. “I’m afraid not. Rather more a scheme. The idea is to let Hooper go and see what he does. If he believes we have Manning here in irons, he’ll try to shift the component.”
“If he has it.”
“Indeed.”
The Captain peers at me for a moment, like I was some kind of curious insect.
“Sometimes, I think you people are magicians,” he remarks. “Other times you seem more like witches. Very well.”
With that he opens the door to the Hut and goes back inside. The Commander uses the moment to hustle me roughly forward.
“This scheme of yours had better come off,” he hisses in my ear. “Otherwise the Captain is going to start having men tailing me to see where I go on Saturdays.”
“The component?”
“Yes,” Harris replies levelly. “The component.”
“Well, as soon as it went missing the machine started to malfunction. We recognised the discrepancies in our results straight away...”
“Come now,” Harris says, quite the reasonable gent. “I think you can be a little more forthcoming.”
I pause a moment, trying to choose my words. To just come out and say it, after a lifetime of hiding... I wouldn’t know how. To put it into words, bluntly and directly: that is a circle I cannot square.
“I’ve done things,” I begin, uncomfortably. “I didn’t want to. I tried not to. But in the end, you understand. I had to. It felt like cutting off my own arm not to. Things I know I shouldn’t have. Things I perhaps regret.”
“I see,” Harris answers. “You’ve left yourself open. To pressure. Is that what you’re saying?”
“You’re right. Let me talk to him, then. As a colleague. Maybe I can get something useful out of him.”
Harris shakes his head. “He despises you, doesn’t he? I don’t see why he’d give himself up to you.”
“All right. All right. That’s exactly what happened.”
“Shame,” he remarks. “I should have left that window open and put a guard on you. Might have been interesting to see where you went. Anyway, I’m glad you’re still here, even if you do smell like a dog.”
“Well?”
“We’ll be outside the door,” Harris replies, seriously. “The first sign of any funny business and we’ll have you both on the floor in minutes. You understand? The country needs your brain, but it’s not too worried about your legs. Remember that.”
Then he gets to his feet, and opens the door, and marches me out and across the yard. The evening is drawing in and there’s a chill in the air. My mind is racing. I have one opportunity here - a moment in which to put the fear of God into Hooper and make him do something foolish to place himself in harm’s way. But how to achieve it?
“You ready?” Harris demands.
I put my ear down to the keyhole, but there’s nothing now. Probably still a guard outside, of course, but they’re keeping mum.
“No. Not for more than a moment, of course. Everyone here is marked out by how little we would be willing to say about it.”
“Only you told this young man more than a little, didn’t you?”
I nod. “He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
No. Why would I? He is no doubt an innocent himself, trapped by some dire circumstance. Forced to act the way he did. I have every sympathy for him.
Of course I do.
Harris put the cuffs around my wrists. “I still have the intercept in my pocket,” I remark. “Wherever we’re going, could I have a pencil?”
He looks me in the eye.
“Certainly. And one of your computing things, if I get my way. And when we’re old, and smoking pipes together in The Rag like heroes, I’ll explain to you the way that decent men have affairs. You scientists.” He drags me up to my feet. “You think you have to re-invent everything.”
With that, he hustles me out of the door and I can’t help thinking that, with a little more strategy, I could still have won the day. But too late now, of course.
“I’m not saying anything of the sort,” I snap back. “What is this, Harris? You’re accusing me of treachery but I don’t see a shred of evidence for it! Why don’t you put your cards on the table?”
“It’s simple enough,” Harris replies. “I’ve seen the same story a hundred times before,” he says. “A young man like yourself - clever, somewhat removed from the world. The kind that doesn’t go to parties, you might say. Who takes himself a little too seriously, perhaps. Takes things too far. Further than a man should allow a thing to go. That’s the story, isn’t it? You took things too far, and then you couldn’t take them back. And now they have you.”
I let him have his rant. He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
I hang back a moment. Something does not seem quite right. After all, Hooper did not steal the component. He has no reason to confess to anything. Perhaps this is another trap?
“Well?” Harris asks. “What are you waiting for? Please don’t tell me you want to confess now as well, I don’t think my head could stand it.”
“I can’t remember.”
He draws his gun and lays it lightly on the field table.
“I’m sorry to threaten you, friend. But His Majesty needs that brain of yours, and that brain alone. There are plenty of other parts to you that our country could do better without. Now I’ll ask you again. Did you hide the component?”
“He has? I knew he would. The worm.”
“Steady now. Matters aren’t over yet. There’s still the issue of the component. It hasn’t turned up. He didn’t lead us to it. I guess he figured you must have had something on him. I don’t know.”
He looks quite put out by the whole affair. He is not the kind of man to deal well with ambiguities and probabilities, far preferred the clarity of fact and falsehood.
The blanket. Perfect. I scoop it up off the bed and hold it in place over the window. This should do it. Then I heft my shoe by its toe, and take a strong swing, trying to imagine it’s Harris’ face on the other side.
The sound of the impact is muffled. With my arm still covered, I sweep out the remaining glass in the frame. I’m ready to escape. The only trouble is - when they look in on me in the morning, there will be no question what has happened. It won’t help me one jot with shifting suspicion off my back.
“I don’t know what I’m suggesting. I don’t understand what’s going on.”
“But of course you do.” Harris narrows his eyes. “Let’s get straight to the point. Do you have the component?” Harris demands. “Do you know where it is?”
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
It’s no good. Nothing I can do will be any less than obvious - something appearing where something was not there before. The men watching Hooper will know it is a deception and Hooper’s protestations will be taken at face value.
If I can’t find a way for Hooper to pick the component up, as if from a hiding place of his own devising, and be caught doing it, then I have no plan at all.
Let me see. There’s the bunk, a bucket, nothing else. I have my jacket but nothing in the pockets - no handkerchief, for instance.
“Try me. Just me and him.”
“Alone?”
“Alone.”
Harris considers it. I watch his eyes, flicking backwards and forwards over mine, like a ribbon-reader trying to load in its program.
Let me see. There’s the bunk, a bucket, nothing else. I have my jacket but nothing in the pockets - no handkerchief, for instance.
“Then you’d better get searching,” I reply, tiring of his complaining. A war is a war, you have to expect an enemy. “It’s your problem. Your security breach. So much for your careful vetting process.” I lean back in my chair and fold my arms so the way they shake will not be visible. “You’d better get on with solving it, instead of wasting your time in here with me.”
Harris harrumphs. He’s thinking it all over.
The blanket. Perfect. I scoop it up off the bed and hold it in place over the window. This should do it. Then I heft the bucket - this really is quite a fiddly thing to be doing, and I need far longer arms, especially in cuffs - and take a strong swing, trying to imagine it’s Harris’ face on the other side.
The sound of the impact is muffled. With my arm still covered, I sweep out the remaining glass in the frame. I’m ready to escape. The only trouble is - when they look in on me in the morning, there will be no question what has happened. It won’t help me one jot with shifting suspicion off my back.
I say nothing, my lips tightly, firmly sealed. It’s true I am a traitor, to the very laws of nature. The world has taught me that since a very early age. But not to my country - should the Reich win this war, I would hardly be treated as an honoured hero. I was doomed from the very start.
I explain none of this. How could a man like Harris understand?
The Commander takes one look back from the doorway as he pulls it to.
“It’s been a pleasure working with you, Mr Manning,” he declares. “You’ve done a great service to this country. If we come through, I’m sure they’ll remember you name. I’m sorry it had to end this way and I’ll do my best to keep it quiet. No-one need know what you did.”
Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
“Well, I’m glad his conscience finally caught up with him,” I reply dismissively.
“The Captain went back into that hut and he confessed immediately. We were so surprised we didn’t let you go.” He wrinkles his nose. “I’m rather sorry about that now, but I suppose we’ll let you go know. I suggest you have a wash.”
And with that he gestures to the doorway.
I let him have his rant. He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. I can only hope that Hooper bites on my baited hook. If he thinks I’m mad and bitter enough to have framed him somehow, and arrogant enough to have taunted him with a clue to where the damning evidence is hidden... if he hates me enough, and is paranoid enough, then he might unravel my little riddle and go searching around Hut 2.
Thinking back, I should have wrapped the part from the Bombe in one of his shirts before hiding it, that would have been a clever move. I really do make a terrible spy.
I cast around the small room. There’s a bucket in one corner for emergencies - I suppose I could use that. I pick it up but it’s not very easy to heft. And the noise would be terrible. There must be a way of making this easier. I’m supposed to be a thief now. What would a burglar do?
“Yes.”
Harris stares back at me.
“I see.” There’s a long pause, like the endless delay between feeding in a line of cypher to the Bombe and waiting for its valves and cylinders to heat up enough to being processing. “Would you like to explain?”
“It will. Hooper’s running scared,” I reply, hoping I sound more confident than I feel.
“I think we’ve had enough drama today already,” Harris replies. “Let’s hope for a clean kill.”
He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
“I am what I am,” I reply. “I’m the way nature made me. But they’re going to hang me unless you help me, Hooper. Don’t let them hang me.”
“Assuming I wanted to help you,” he replies, carefully. “Which I don’t. What would I do?”
“Nothing. Almost nothing.
All you have to do is go to the back of Hut 2. There’s a breeze-block with a cavity. That’s where I’ve put it. I’ll be locked up overnight, I should think. But you can pick it up and pass it to my contact. He’ll be at the south fence around two AM."
“If you think I’ll do that then you’re crazy,” Hooper replies.
At that moment the door flies open and the Captain comes storming back inside.
Harris hustles me over to the barracks. “I hope that’s the end of it,” he mutters as he pushes me up the steps.
“Just be sure to let him out,” I reply. “And then see where he goes.”
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
“You mean he confessed of his own accord? You didn’t catch him?”
“The Captain went back into that hut and he confessed immediately. We were so surprised we didn’t let you go.” He wrinkles his nose. “I’m rather sorry about that now, but I suppose we’ll let you go know. I suggest you have a wash.”
And with that he gestures to the doorway.
“I can’t remember.”
He draws his gun and lays it lightly on the field table.
“I’m sorry to threaten you, friend. But His Majesty needs that brain of yours, and that brain alone. There are plenty of other parts to you that our country could do better without. Now I’ll ask you again. Did you hide the component?”
Let me see. There’s the bunk, nothing else. I have my jacket but nothing in the pockets - no handkerchief, for instance.
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
The bunk has a solid metal frame, a blanket, a pillow, nothing more.
I go over to the window and try to jimmy it open. Not much luck, but in my struggling I notice this window only backs on the thin little brook that runs down the back of the compound. Which means, if I smashed it, I might get away with no-one seeing.
“I know nothing about it.” My voice is shaking as I try to speak. I’m not accustomed to facing off against the Commander - against any man with a gun in his holster. “I don’t know what gives you the right to pick on me. Shouldn’t I have a lawyer?”
“This is time of war,” Harris answers. His tone of voice has fallen down into darkness. “And by God, if I have to shoot you to recover the component or stop it falling into the wrong hands, I will, do you understand me?”
There’s an icy silence. He’s angry. He waves an impetuous hand across the field table.
“Now, drink your tea and talk.”
“I’m suggesting you save your own skin. I’ve wrapped that component in one of your shirts, Hooper. They’ll be searching this place top to bottom. They’ll find it eventually, and when they do, that’s the thing that will swing it against you. So take my advice now.”
“If you think I’ll do that then you’re crazy,” Hooper replies.
At that moment the door flies open and the Captain comes storming back inside.
Harris hustles me over to the barracks. “I hope that’s the end of it,” he mutters as he pushes me up the steps.
“Just be sure to let him out,” I reply. “And then see where he goes.”
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. Thinking back, I should have wrapped the part from the Bombe in one of his shirts before hiding it, that would have been a clever move. I really do make a terrible spy.
But what is a country, after all? A country is not a concept, not an ideal. Every country falls, its borders shift and move, its language disappears to be replaced by another. Neither the Reich nor the British Empire will survive forever, so what use is my loyalty to either?
I may as well, therefore, look after myself. Something I have attempted, but failed miserably, to do.
“I’m afraid we have only one option, Manning,” Harris says. “Please, man. Tell us where the component is.”
I will have to leave that question for another day. To return there now, when they’re probably watching my every step, would be suicide. After all, if Hooper understood my clue, he will have explained it to them to save his neck. They won’t believe him - but they won’t quite disbelieve him either. We’re locked in a cycle now, him and me, of half-truth and probability. There’s nothing either of us can do to put the other entirely into blame.
Nothing, that is, except to act as if there is no game being played. I’ll have a bath, then start work as normal. I’ve got a week to find something to give my blackmailer - or give him nothing: it seems my superiors know about my indiscretions now already. Something will turn up.
“Well?”
“We’ll be outside the door,” Harris replies, seriously. “The first sign of any funny business and we’ll have you both on the floor in minutes. You understand? The country needs your brain, but it’s not too worried about your legs. Remember that.”
Then he gets to his feet, and opens the door, and marches me out and across the yard. The evening is drawing in and there’s a chill in the air. My mind is racing. I have one opportunity here - a moment in which to put the fear of God into Hooper and make him do something foolish to place himself in harm’s way. But how to achieve it?
“You ready?” Harris demands.
I shrug, eloquently.
“This is all too far-fetched,” Harris says. “I’m glad to have this back, but I need to think.”
Getting to his feet, he nods once. “You’ll have to wait a little longer, I’m afraid, Manning.”
Then he steps out of the door, muttering to himself.
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
I shift in my seat. “Not really. The boy was a simpleton, obviously. My intellectual inferior. His good opinion meant nothing to be. Harris, please do not misunderstand me. I was simply after his body.”
Harris, to his credit, doesn’t flinch. Well, perhaps not: but he’ll have nightmares of this moment tonight. I’m almost tempted to reach out and try to take his hand to worsen it for him, but I hold back.
“Go on with your confession,” he replies. I shrug.
“There’s not much else to say. I took the part from Bombe computing device. You seem to know that already. I had to. He was going to expose me if I didn’t.”
“This young man was blackmailing you over your affair?”
“What could I do?” I’m shaking now. The night is cold and the heat-lamp in this hut has been removed, presumably to keep me alert and on edge. “I won’t go to prison.”
“You committed a crime,” Harris answers. If I had any sense that he understood my predicament, and that he felt for my state of being, it collapses like a chain with a broken link. “You thought you could repair it with another, more serious crime?” He shakes his head. “I thought you men were supposed to be clever. But this is the action of a frightened woman. So I’d like you to tell me, now. Where is it?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
“I saw Hooper take it.”
“Did you?” The worst of his rage is passing; he is now moving into a kind of contemptuous despair. I can imagine him wrapping up our interview soon, leaving the hut, locking the door, and dropping the key down the well in the yard. And why wouldn’t he? With my name tarnished they will not let me back to work on the Bombe - if there is the slightest smell of treachery about my name I would be lucky not be locked up for the remainder of the war. “I wish you’d stop with your deceptions and get to the truth, man. Every minute matters.”
The rest of the night passes slowly. I sleep a little, dozing mostly. Then I’m woken by the rooster in the yard. The door opens, and Harris comes in. He takes one look at the broken window and frowns with puzzlement.
“What happened there?”
“You’re right.” I shake my head. “You’re right. I don’t see how I can help you after all. So, there’s only one conclusion.”
“Oh, yes? And what’s that?”
“It’s your problem. Your security breach. So much for your careful vetting process.” I lean back in my chair and fold my arms so the way they shake will not be visible. “You’d better get on with solving it, instead of wasting your time in here with me.”
Harris harrumphs. He’s thinking it all over.
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
“No. I passed it on to Hooper.”
“I see. And what did he do with it?”
I slip off my jacket and hold it with one hand over the glass. This should do it. Then I heft back my arm, and take a strong swing, trying to imagine it’s Harris’ face on the other side.
The sound of the impact is muffled. With my arm still covered, I sweep out the remaining glass in the frame. I’m ready to escape. The only trouble is - when they look in on me in the morning, there will be no question what has happened. It won’t help me one jot with shifting suspicion off my back.
“Right now, I think you take that role, Harris,” I reply coolly.
“Very droll,” he replies. “Let me tell you what happened this morning, and see if it takes the smile off your face. Our men watching Hooper’s tent saw Hooper wake up, get dressed, clamber out of his tent and then remark with surprise as, while looking for his shoes, he stumbled on something just at the entrance of his tent.”
“I know nothing about it.” My voice is shaking as I try to speak. I’m not accustomed to facing off against the Commander - against any man with a gun in his holster. “I don’t know what gives you the right to pick on me. Shouldn’t I have a lawyer?”
“This is time of war,” Harris answers. His tone of voice has fallen down into darkness. “And by God, if I have to shoot you to recover the component or stop it falling into the wrong hands, I will, do you understand me?”
There’s an icy silence. He’s angry at my slippery answers. He waves an impetuous hand across the field table.
“Now, drink your tea and talk.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Hooper’s been taken away. They caught him, uncovering that missing Bombe component from a hiding place somewhere, apparently about to take it to his contact.” Russell harrumphs. “Quince was saying this morning, apparently his grandfather was German. So perhaps it’s to be expected. See you there?”
I wave to him and move away, my thoughts turning to the young man in the village. My lover. My contact. My blackmailer. Hooper may have taken the fall for the missing component, but if it was his recovering it from Hut 2 then I have nothing to sell to save my reputation, if I have any left.
If he didn’t, of course, and Harris was telling the truth about his sudden confession, then I will be able to buy my freedom once and for all.
“I’ve thought so before.” Certainly in the matter of getting blackmailed.
“Let me tell you what happened this morning. Our men watching Hooper’s tent saw Hooper wake up, get dressed, clamber out of his tent and then remark with surprise as, while looking for his shoes, he stumbled on something just at the entrance of his tent.”
“What could I do?” I’m shaking now. The night is cold and the heat-lamp in this hut has been removed, presumably to keep me alert and on edge. “I won’t go to prison.”
“You committed a crime,” Harris answers. If I had any sense that he understood my predicament, and that he felt for my state of being, it collapses like a chain with a broken link. “You thought you could repair it with another, more serious crime?” He shakes his head. “I thought you men were supposed to be clever. But this is the action of a frightened woman. So I’d like you to tell me, now. Where is it?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
“All right,” he declares, gruffly. “We’ll try it. But if this doesn’t work, I might just put the both of you in front of a firing squad and be done with these games. Worse things happen in time of war, you know.”
“Alone,” I add.
“Alone?”
“Alone.”
Harris considers it. I watch his eyes, flicking backwards and forwards over mine, like a ribbon-reader trying to load in its program.
“Well, then,” I answer, nervously. “What would he do? Either get rid of it straight away - or if that wasn’t possible, which it probably wouldn’t be, since he’d have to arrange things with his contacts - so most likely, he’d hide it somewhere and wait, until you had the rope around my neck and he could be sure he was safe.”
“Makes sense,” Harris agrees, cautiously. I can see he’s still not entirely convinced by my tale, as well he might not be - I’ve hardly been entirely straight with him. “Which means the question is, what can we do to rat him out?”
“Yes, I considered it. He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
“No, Harris. The young man wasn’t blackmailing me.” I take a deep breath. “It was Hooper.”
“Now look here,” Harris interrupts. “Don’t start that again.”
“It’s the truth, Harris. If I’m going to jail, then so be it, but I won’t hang at Traitor’s Gate. Hooper was the one who told the boy about our work. Hooper put the boy on to me. And then, once he had me compromised, he demanded I steal the part from the machine.”
“Which you did.” Harris leans forward. “And then what? You still have it? You put it somewhere?”
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
I wait a few minutes, to be sure the Commander will have gone, then try the door. It’s locked, all right. I’m not really one for picking locks. Never tried it. I don’t think I’ll be getting out that way.
From outside, I hear a voice. Hooper’s. He’s haranguing someone, for something.
Let me see. There’s the bunk, a bucket, nothing else. I have my jacket but nothing in the pockets - no handkerchief, for instance.
“No. I passed it on to Hooper.”
“I see. And what did he do with it?”
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
I wait a few minutes, to be sure the Commander will have gone, then try the door. It’s locked, all right. I’m not really one for picking locks. Never tried it. I don’t think I’ll be getting out that way.
From outside, I hear a voice. Hooper’s. He’s haranguing someone, for something.
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
I lift the cup and take a sip, trying to act natural. He watches as I do so.
“Lapsang Souchong,” he remarks, placing his own cup down on the table with a clink. “Such a curious flavour. It might almost not be tea at all. You might say it hides a multitude of sins. As do you, isn’t that correct?”
The window is my only way out of here. I just need a way to smash it.
“I don’t need twelve minutes. The component is in the long grass behind Hooper’s tent. I threw it there hoping to somehow frame him, but now I see that won’t be possible. I was naive, I suppose.”
“Indeed you were. And, Mr Manning: God help you if you’re lying to me.”
Harris stands, and slips away smartly. Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
I have no God to make peace with. I find it difficult to believe in goodness of any kind, in a world such as this.
But I am no traitor. At least, not to my country. To my sex, perhaps. But how could I support the Reich? If it were to come to power, I would be worse off than under the already dire circumstances of my existence.
I have no place here. No way to fit. I am the intercept - caught, in the middle, cryptic and understood only thinly, through devices and machines.
“An accident, naturally.” I risk a smile. “That damned machine, Harris; it’s made from spare parts and string. Even these huts leak when it rains. It wouldn’t take more than one fellow to trip over a cable to shake out a component and have it roll away across the floor. Have you tried looking under the thing?”
Harris doesn’t smile. “Do you suppose we haven’t? Do you supposed we haven’t combed every inch of this place already?”
In a sudden moment I understand that his reply is a threat.
“Now,” he continues. “Are you sure there isn’t anything you want to tell me?”
“No. It’s not treason. It’s a trade, plain and simple.”
“If you think I’ll do that then you’re crazy,” Hooper replies.
At that moment the door flies open and the Captain comes storming back inside.
Harris hustles me over to the barracks. “I hope that’s the end of it,” he mutters as he pushes me up the steps.
“Just be sure to let him out,” I reply. “And then see where he goes.”
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
I leave the cup exactly where it is. “Why?” I ask coldly. “What’s in it?”
“Lapsang Souchong,” he remarks, placing his own cup down on the table with a clink. “Such a curious flavour. It might almost not be tea at all. You might say it hides a multitude of sins. As do you, isn’t that correct?”
I go over to the window and try to jimmy it open. Not much luck, but in my struggling I notice this window only backs on the thin little brook that runs down the back of the compound. Which means, if I smashed it, I might get away with no-one seeing.
I wait a few minutes, to be sure Hooper and the Captain will have gone, then try the door. It’s locked, all right. I’m not really one for picking locks. Never tried it. I don’t think I’ll be getting out that way.
I hang back a moment. Something does not seem quite right. After all, Hooper did not steal the component. He has no reason to confess to anything. Perhaps this is another trap?
“Well?” Harris asks. “What are you waiting for? Please don’t tell me you want to confess now as well, I don’t think my head could stand it.”
“No. I have no idea.”
He’s talking about the missing reel from the Bombe. Russell discovered it this afternoon when the machine began producing strange results. We were all in the Hut when it happened and it had been in place when we sat down to work. The conclusions had been obvious to all four of us immediately, but had gone undiscussed, even after the empty socket was located, the wiring torn on either side.
“Lucky these things are easy to replace,” Russell had remarked, and that had been that. We had stopped work, sent out for a new part to be machined. And drunk our tea and watched each other.
“Come now,” Harris says, quite the reasonable gent. “As I told you. We’re not interviewing everyone. Only you. So. I think you can be a little more forthcoming.”
“I’ll talk to him.”
“What?”
“Put me in with Hooper. Maybe I can get something useful out of him. As his colleague.”
Harris shakes his head. “He despises you, doesn’t he? I don’t see why he’d give himself up to you.”
I slide the component into the tent, work the zip closed, and move quickly away into the shadows. It takes a few minutes for my breath to slow, and my heart to stop hammering, but I see no other movement. If anyone is watching Hooper’s tent, they are asleep at their posts.
Satisfied, I return the short way up the paths between the huts to the barrack block and the broken window.
It’s a little harder getting back through - the window is higher off the ground than the floor inside - but after a decent bit of jumping and hauling I manage to get my elbows up, and then one leg, and finally I collapse inside, quite winded and out breath.
Ah, but of course! I slip off one shoe and heft it by the toe. The heel will make a decent enough hammer, if I give it enough wallop.
But I’ll cut my hand to ribbons doing it. And the noise would be terrible. There must be a way of making this easier. I’m supposed to be a thief now. What would a burglar do?
“No. I have no idea.”
He’s talking about the missing reel from the Bombe. Russell discovered it this afternoon when the machine began producing strange results. We were all in the Hut when it happened and it had been in place when we sat down to work. The conclusions had been obvious to all four of us immediately, but had gone undiscussed, even after the empty socket was located, the wiring torn on either side.
“Lucky these things are easy to replace,” Russell had remarked, and that had been that. We had stopped work, sent out for a new part to be machined. And drunk our tea and watched each other.
“Come now,” Harris says, quite the reasonable gent. “As I told you. We’re not interviewing everyone. Only you. So. I think you can be a little more forthcoming.”
I have no God to make peace with. I find it difficult to believe in goodness of any kind, in a world such as this.
But I am no traitor. At least, not to my country. To my sex, perhaps. But how could I support the Reich? If it were to come to power, I would be worse off than under the already dire circumstances of my existence.
In truth, it is men like Harris who are complex, not men like me. I live to make things ordered, systematic. I like my pencils sharpened and lined up in a row. I do not deal in difficult borders, or uncertainties, or alliances. If I could, I would reduce the world to something easier to understand, something finite. But of course, I cannot, not even here, in this little micro-world, this safe haven from the horrors of the war.
I have no place here. No way to fit. I am the intercept - caught, in the middle, cryptic and understood only thinly, through devices and machines.
I put my ear down to the keyhole, but there’s nothing now. Probably still a guard outside, of course, but they’re keeping mum.
“I’ll talk to him.”
“What?”
“Put me in with Hooper. Maybe I can get something useful out of him. As his colleague.”
Harris shakes his head. “He despises you, doesn’t he? I don’t see why he’d give himself up to you.”
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
“What could I do?” I’m shaking now. The night is cold and the heat-lamp in this hut has been removed, presumably to keep me alert and on edge. “I don’t want to go to prison.”
“You committed a crime,” Harris answers. If I had any sense that he understood my predicament, and that he felt for my state of being, it collapses like a chain with a broken link. “You thought you could repair it with another, more serious crime?” He shakes his head. “I thought you men were supposed to be clever. But this is the action of a frightened woman. So I’d like you to tell me, now. Where is it?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
“It’s your problem. Your security breach. So much for your careful vetting process.” I lean back in my chair and fold my arms so the way they shake will not be visible. “You’d better get on with solving it, instead of wasting your time in here with me.”
Harris harrumphs. He’s thinking it all over.
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
“I know nothing about it.” My voice is shaking with anger as I try to speak. I’m not accustomed to facing off against the Commander - against any man with a gun in his holster. “I don’t know what gives you the right to pick on me. I demand a lawyer.”
“This is time of war,” Harris answers. His tone of voice has fallen down into darkness. “And by God, if I have to shoot you to recover the component or stop it falling into the wrong hands, I will, do you understand me?”
There’s an icy silence. He’s angry. He waves an impetuous hand across the field table.
“Now, drink your tea and talk.”
I put my ear down to the keyhole, but there’s nothing now. Probably still a guard outside, of course, but they’re keeping mum.
“When you have eliminated the impossible...” I begin, but Harris cuts me off.
“We are left with two possibilities, quite clearly. You, or Hooper.” The Commander pauses to smooth down his moustache. “Hooper’s in Hut 3 with the Captain, having a similar conversation.”
I look in through the door and catch Hooper’s expression. I had half expected him to be smiling be he isn’t. He looks shocked, almost hurt. “Iain,” he murmurs. “You couldn’t...”
The Captain comes outside, pulling the door to. “What’s this?” he asks. “A confession? Just like that?”
“No,” the Commander admits, in a low voice. “I’m afraid not. Rather more a scheme. The idea is to let Hooper go and see what he does. If he believes we have Manning here in irons, he’ll try to shift the component.”
“If he has it.”
“Indeed.”
The Captain peers at me for a moment, like I was some kind of curious insect.
“Sometimes, I think you people are magicians,” he remarks. “Other times you seem more like witches. Very well.”
With that he opens the door to the Hut and goes back inside. The Commander uses the moment to hustle me roughly forward.
“This scheme of yours had better come off,” he hisses in my ear. “Otherwise the Captain is going to start having men tailing me to see where I go on Saturdays.”
I see. Perhaps you think I bullied the man into giving himself up. Perhaps he understood my little clue far enough to know it was a threat against him, but not well enough to understand where he should look to find it. So he took the easy route out and folded. Gave me the hand.
Hardly sporting, is that it?
“That’s not important now. What matters is what you do, this evening. All you have to do is go to the back of Hut 2. There’s a breeze-block with a cavity. That’s where I’ve put it. I’ll be locked up overnight, I should think. But you can pick it up and pass it to my contact. He’ll be at the south fence around two AM.”
“If you think I’ll do that then you’re crazy,” Hooper replies.
At that moment the door flies open and the Captain comes storming back inside.
Harris hustles me over to the barracks. “I hope that’s the end of it,” he mutters as he pushes me up the steps.
“Just be sure to let him out,” I reply. “And then see where he goes.”
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
I wait a few minutes, to be sure Hooper and the Captain will have gone, then try the door. It’s locked, all right. I’m not really one for picking locks. Never tried it. I don’t think I’ll be getting out that way.
“For God’s sake, man, what do you have to lose?”
“We’ll be outside the door,” Harris replies, seriously. “The first sign of any funny business and we’ll have you both on the floor in minutes. You understand? The country needs your brain, but it’s not too worried about your legs. Remember that.”
Then he gets to his feet, and opens the door, and marches me out and across the yard. The evening is drawing in and there’s a chill in the air. My mind is racing. I have one opportunity here - a moment in which to put the fear of God into Hooper and make him do something foolish to place himself in harm’s way. But how to achieve it?
“You ready?” Harris demands.
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
I pause to glance around, and catch a glimpse of movement. Someone ducking around the corner of the hut. Or a canvas sheet flapping in the light breeze. Impossible to be sure.
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
“No. I have no idea.”
He’s talking about the missing reel from the Bombe. Russell discovered it this afternoon when the machine began producing strange results. We were all in the Hut when it happened and it had been in place when we sat down to work. The conclusions had been obvious to all four of us immediately, but had gone undiscussed, even after the empty socket was located, the wiring torn on either side.
“Lucky these things are easy to replace,” Russell had remarked, and that had been that. We had stopped work, sent out for a new part to be machined. And drunk our tea and watched each other.
“Come now,” Harris says, quite the reasonable gent. “As I told you. We’re not interviewing everyone. Only you. So. I think you can be a little more forthcoming.”
“I’d be happy to help,” I answer, sympathetically, leaning forward across the table. “I’m sure there’s something I could do.”
“Like what, exactly?”
“I was quite certain, after a while. After we’d been talking. He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
“I’m sure I saw him this evening, talking to someone by the fence on the woodland side of the compound. He’s probably passed it on already. You’ll have to ask him.”
Harris harrumphs. He’s thinking it all over.
It’s no good. That’s only half a solution. I couldn’t be happy with that.
I peer out of the window, but it looks out onto the little brook at the back of the compound, with no view of the other huts or the House. Who knows if there are men up, searching the base of Hut 2, following one another with flashlights...
The night draws on at its own pace. I suppose by morning I will know my fate.
“No, Harris. The young man wasn’t blackmailing me.” I take a deep breath. “It was Hooper.”
“Hooper!” Harris exclaims, in surprise.
“It’s the truth, Harris. If I’m going to jail, then so be it, but I won’t hang at Traitor’s Gate. Hooper was the one who told the boy about our work. Hooper put the boy on to me. And then, once he had me compromised, he demanded I steal the part from the machine.”
“Which you did.” Harris leans forward. “And then what? You still have it? You put it somewhere?”
I have in my head to blame Hooper, but somehow I cannot find a way to tell the story. Whatever they put in my tea, it has control of my tongue. Fighting as hard as I can, it does no good. I find myself collapsing, desperate to tell him everything, almost weeping with the shame of it.
“There was a young man, Harris. I met him in the town. A few months ago now. We got to talking - not about work. I said I was an accountant for a firm, just as I was supposed to. Although he seemed to know that wasn’t true. That got me wondering if he wasn’t one of us.”
Harris is not letting me off any more. “You seriously considered that possibility?”
“Try me. Just me and him.”
“Alone?”
“Alone.”
Harris considers it. I watch his eyes, flicking backwards and forwards over mine, like a ribbon-reader trying to load in its program.
“I suppose I do rather.” I laugh, but Harris does not.
“This damn business gets worse and worse,” he says, talking as he goes over to unlock and throw open the window. “Hooper’s confessed, you know.”
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
“Yes. Something like that. It’s a very lonely life otherwise. And the work we do - well. It only makes it worse. There’s barely a moment to oneself.”
“That’s how it is in the Service,” Harris answers. “I know you didn’t sign up for it but, well. There’s plenty of other men who didn’t who are serving now, too. Now, go on with your confession.”
That gives me pause, for a moment. I hadn’t thought of it as such. But I suppose that’s what this is. I am about to admit what I did, after all.
“There’s not much else to say. I took the part from Bombe computing device. You seem to know that already. I had to. He was going to expose me if I didn’t.”
“This young man was blackmailing you over your affair?”
As Harris speaks I find myself suddenly sharply aware, as if waking from a long sleep. The table, the corrugated walls of the hut, everything seems suddenly more tangible than a moment before. Perhaps whatever it was they put in my drink is wearing off?
The bunk has a solid metal frame, a blanket, a pillow, nothing more.
From inspiration - or desperation, I am not certain - a simple approach occurs to me. I toss the component away into the bushes behind Hooper’s tent and return to my barrack, wishing myself a long sleep followed by a morning, free of this business.
Satisfied, I return the short way up the paths between the huts to the barrack block and the broken window.
It’s a little harder getting back through - the window is higher off the ground than the floor inside - but after a decent bit of jumping and hauling I manage to get my elbows up, and then one leg, and finally I collapse inside, quite winded and out breath.
Enough of this place. Time for me to get moving. I can get to the train station on foot, catch the postal train to Scotland and be somewhere else before anyone realises that I’m gone.
Of course, then they’ll be looking for me in earnest. As a confirmed traitor.
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
Let me see. There’s the bunk, a bucket, nothing else. I have my jacket but nothing in the pockets - no handkerchief, for instance.
“Hooper, I’ll make a deal with you. We both know what happened in that hut this afternoon. I know because I did it, and you know because you know you didn’t. But once this is done I’ll be rich, and I’ll split that with you. I’ll let you have the results, too. Your name on the discovery of the Bombe. And it won’t hurt the war effort - you know as well as me that the component on its own is worthless, it’s the wiring of the Bombe, the usage, that’s what’s valuable. So how about it?”
Hooper looks back at me, appalled. “You’re asking me to commit treason?”
I suppose this must be what it feels like to have a conscience, then. Very well.
“Harris, sir. I don’t know what Hooper’s playing at, sir. But I can’t let him do this.”
“Do what?”
“Take the rope for this. I took it, sir.
The missing component of the Bombe computer is hidden in a small cavity in a breeze-block supporting the left rear post of Hut 2. I put in there anticipating a search. I intended to dispose of it once the fuss had died down. I suppose I was foolish to think that it might."
“I thought as much. I hadn’t expected you to give it out so easily, however. You understand, Hooper has said nothing, of course. In fact, he went to Hut 2 directly after we released him and uncovered the component. But he told us you had instructed him where to go. Hence my little double bluff. Frankly, I’ll be glad when I’m shot of the lot of you mathematicians.”
Harris stands, and slips away smartly. Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
I wait a few minutes, to be sure Hooper and the Captain will have gone, then try the door. It’s locked, all right. I’m not really one for picking locks. Never tried it. I don’t think I’ll be getting out that way.
“Very well then.” I swallow nervously, to make it look more genuine. “No. I passed it on to Hooper.”
“I see. And what did he do with it?”
“I broke it,” I reply. There doesn’t seem any use in trying to lie. “I thought I could escape. But I couldn’t get myself through.”
The Commander laughs. “Shame,” he remarks. “I should have left that window open and put a guard on you. Might have been interesting to see where you went. Anyway, I’m glad you’re still here, even if you do smell like a dog.”
“You can’t do this!” I cry. “It’s murder! I demand a trial, a lawyer; for God’s sake, man, you can’t just throw me overboard, we’re not barbarians...!”
“You leave me no choice,” Harris snaps back, eyes cold as gun-metal. “You and your damn cyphers. Your damn clever problems. If men like you didn’t exist, if we could just all be straight with one another.” He gets to his feet and heads for the door. “I fear for the future of this world, with men like you in. Reich or no Reich, Mr Manning, people like you simply complicate matters.”
Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
“For God’s sake, man, what do you have to lose?”
“We’ll be outside the door,” Harris replies, seriously. “The first sign of any funny business and we’ll have you both on the floor in minutes. You understand? The country needs your brain, but it’s not too worried about your legs. Remember that.”
Then he gets to his feet, and opens the door, and marches me out and across the yard. The evening is drawing in and there’s a chill in the air. My mind is racing. I have one opportunity here - a moment in which to put the fear of God into Hooper and make him do something foolish to place himself in harm’s way. But how to achieve it?
“You ready?” Harris demands.
“I was quite certain, after a while. After we’d been talking. He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
“Please, Harris. You can’t understand the pressure they put me under. You can’t understand what it’s like, to be in love but be able to do nothing about it...”
“Be quiet, man. We know all about your and your sordid affairs.” The Captain curls his lip. “Don’t you know there’s a war on? Do you know the kind of place they would have sent you if it haven’t had been for that brain of yours? Don’t you think you owe it to your country to use it a little more?”
Do I, I wonder? Do I owe this country anything, this country that has spurned who and what am I since the day I became a man?
Let me see. There’s the bunk, a bucket, nothing else. I have my jacket but nothing in the pockets - no handkerchief, for instance.
I have no God to make peace with. I find it difficult to believe in goodness of any kind, in a world such as this.
But I am no traitor. At least, not to my country. To my sex, perhaps. But how could I support the Reich? If it were to come to power, I would be worse off than under the already dire circumstances of my existence.
I have no place here. No way to fit. I am the intercept - caught, in the middle, cryptic and understood only thinly, through devices and machines.
I go over to the window and try to jimmy it open. Not much luck, but in my struggling I notice this window only backs on the thin little brook that runs down the back of the compound. Which means, if I smashed it, I might get away with no-one seeing.
I lean back. “It’s your problem. Your security breach. So much for your careful vetting process.” I lean back in my chair and fold my arms so the way they shake will not be visible. “You’d better get on with solving it, instead of wasting your time in here with me.”
Harris harrumphs. He’s thinking it all over.
“I’m not saying anything of the sort,” I snap back. “What is this, Harris? You’re accusing me of treachery but I don’t see a shred of evidence for it! Why don’t you put your cards on the table?”
“It’s simple enough,” Harris replies. “I’ve seen the same story a hundred times before,” he says. “A young man like yourself - clever, somewhat removed from the world. The kind that doesn’t go to parties, you might say. Who takes himself a little too seriously, perhaps. Takes things too far. Further than a man should allow a thing to go. That’s the story, isn’t it? You took things too far, and then you couldn’t take them back. And now they have you.”
“I’m looking forward to a long bath,” I reply. “And getting back to work.”
“Well, I’m afraid it is going to get worse for you,” Harris replies soberly. “We followed Hooper, and he took himself neatly to bed and slept like a boy scout. Which puts us back to square one, and you firmly in the frame. And I’m afraid I don’t have time for any more games. I want you to tell me where that component is, or we will hang you as a traitor.”
He passes a hand across his eyes with a long look of despair.
“I’m going to go outside and organise a rope. That’ll take about twelve minutes. That’s how long you have to decide.”
Next. To Hooper’s dorm. Time to wrap up this little game once and for all.
I creep around the outside of the Huts. All are quiet, steel-grey in the hazy moonlight; a few shining copper from arc-lamps strung from the trees. A few guards patrol the area at night but not many - after all, very few know this place even exists.
Our quarters are arranged away from the House; where we sleep is of less importance than where we work. We each have our own Hut, through some are less permanent than other’s. Hooper’s is a military issue tent: quite a large canopy, with two rooms inside and a short porch area where he insists people leave their shoes. It’s all zipped up for the night and no light shines from inside.
I hang back for a moment. If Harris is keeping to the terms of our deal then someone will be watching this place. But I can see no-one.
“No, Harris. I don’t think you can understand.”
“Go on with your confession,” he replies. That gives me pause, for a moment. I hadn’t thought of it as such. But I suppose that’s what this is. I am about to admit what I did, after all.
“There’s not much else to say. I took the part from Bombe computing device. You seem to know that already. I had to. He was going to expose me if I didn’t.”
“This young man was blackmailing you over your affair?”
As Harris speaks I find myself suddenly sharply aware, as if waking from a long sleep. The table, the corrugated walls of the hut, everything seems suddenly more tangible than a moment before. Perhaps whatever it was they put in my drink is wearing off?
I settle down to wait.
Night falls. The clockwork of the heavens keeps turning, whatever state I might be in. No-one can steal the components that make the sun go down and the stars come out. I watch it performing its operations. I can’t sleep.
Has Hooper taken my bait?
I shake my head violently, to say no, that’s not it, but whatever is wrong with tongue is wrong with neck too. I look across at the table at Harris’ face and realise with a start how sympathetic he is. Such a kind, generous man. How can I hold anything back from him?
I take another mouthful of the bitter, strange-tasting tea before answering.
“That’s exactly it,” I say quietly. “Harris. You understand. There are some things... which can get a man into a lot of trouble. Things one shouldn’t do.”
Harris, to his credit, doesn’t stiffen. He doesn’t lean away, or remove his hands from the table-top as though my condition might be infectious. I thought they trained them in the army to shoot my kind on sight but he does not.
Of course, he does not offer any sympathy either. He only nods, once. The understanding that has passed between us here is a mere turning cog in his calculations, with no meaning or righteousness to it.
“I’ve seen the same story a hundred times before,” he says. “A young man like yourself - clever, somewhat removed from the world. The kind that doesn’t go to parties, you might say. Who takes himself a little too seriously, perhaps. Takes things too far. Further than a man should allow a thing to go. That’s the story, isn’t it? You took things too far, and then you couldn’t take them back. And now they have you.”
From where he’s sitting, I know Hooper can see me, so I keep my head down and look guilty as sin. The bastard is probably smiling.
The Captain comes outside, pulling the door to. “What’s this?” he asks. “A confession? Just like that?”
“No,” the Commander admits, in a low voice. “I’m afraid not. Rather more a scheme. The idea is to let Hooper go and see what he does. If he believes we have Manning here in irons, he’ll try to shift the component.”
“If he has it.”
“Indeed.”
The Captain peers at me for a moment, like I was some kind of curious insect.
“Sometimes, I think you people are magicians,” he remarks. “Other times you seem more like witches. Very well.”
With that he opens the door to the Hut and goes back inside. The Commander uses the moment to hustle me roughly forward.
“This scheme of yours had better come off,” he hisses in my ear. “Otherwise the Captain is going to start having men tailing me to see where I go on Saturdays.”
Morning comes. I’m woken by a rooster calling from the yard behind the House. I must have slept after all. I pull myself up from the bunk, shivering slightly. There is condensation on the inside of the window. I have probably given myself a chill.
The door handle turns and without knocking, Harris comes inside. “You’re up,” he remarks, and then, “You smell like an animal.”
“All right,” he declares, gruffly. “We’ll try it. But if this doesn’t work, I might just put the both of you in front of a firing squad and be done with these games. Worse things happen in time of war, you know.”
“Alone,” I add.
“Alone?”
“Alone.”
Harris considers it. I watch his eyes, flicking backwards and forwards over mine, like a ribbon-reader trying to load in its program.
“You’re right.” I shake my head. “You’re right. I don’t see how I can help you after all. So, there’s only one conclusion.”
“Oh, yes? And what’s that?”
“It’s your problem. Your security breach. So much for your careful vetting process.” I lean back in my chair and fold my arms so the way they shake will not be visible. “You’d better get on with solving it, instead of wasting your time in here with me.”
Harris harrumphs. He’s thinking it all over.
The blanket. Perfect. I scoop it up off the bed and hold it in place over the window. This should do it. Then I heft back my arm, and take a strong swing, trying to imagine it’s Harris’ face on the other side.
The sound of the impact is muffled. With my arm still covered, I sweep out the remaining glass in the frame. I’m ready to escape. The only trouble is - when they look in on me in the morning, there will be no question what has happened. It won’t help me one jot with shifting suspicion off my back.
“All right,” he declares, gruffly. “We’ll try it. But if this doesn’t work, I might just put the both of you in front of a firing squad and be done with these games. Worse things happen in time of war, you know.”
“Alone,” I add.
“Alone?”
“Alone.”
Harris considers it. I watch his eyes, flicking backwards and forwards over mine, like a ribbon-reader trying to load in its program.
“I can’t tell you enough, I’m glad to hear it. I’ve had a devil of a night, as you can imagine.”
His gaze flicks to the broken window, but only for a moment. I think he genuinely cannot believe I could have done it.
Harris rolls his eyes, but he might almost be smiling. “You’d better get along, and work through your devils. There’s a 24-hour-out-of-date message to be tackled and we’re a genius short. So you’d better be ready to work twice as hard.”
Quickly, I pull it free, and slip it into the pocket of my jacket.
Where now?
“It’s not that bad. I can still fix it.”
Harris shakes his head. “This isn’t a problem to be cracked. This isn’t a puzzle. I’m sorry, but this is bigger than you now. Look. You can go to prison for what you’ve done, or we can change your identity and move you somewhere where your... indiscretions... can’t hurt anyone any more. But right now none of that matters. What happens to you, doesn’t matter. All that matters is where that component is. So I’d like you to tell me, now. Where is it?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
Enough of this. There isn’t any time to lose. Right now they’ll be following Hooper as he goes to bed, and goes to sleep; and then that’s it. The minute he closes his eyelids and drifts off that’s the moment that this trap swings shut on me.
So I punch out the glass with my fist and it shatters with a terrific noise. Then I stop, and wait, to see if anyone will come in through the door.
Nothing.
“I don’t know what gives you the right to pick on me. Shouldn’t I have a lawyer?”
“This is time of war,” Harris answers. His tone of voice has fallen down into darkness. “And by God, if I have to shoot you to recover the component or stop it falling into the wrong hands, I will, do you understand me?”
There’s an icy silence. He’s angry. He waves an impetuous hand across the field table.
“Now, drink your tea and talk.”
Well, then. To Hooper’s dorm. Time to wrap up this little game once and for all.
I creep around the outside of the Huts. All are quiet, steel-grey in the hazy moonlight; a few shining copper from arc-lamps strung from the trees. A few guards patrol the area at night but not many - after all, very few know this place even exists.
Our quarters are arranged away from the House; where we sleep is of less importance than where we work. We each have our own Hut, through some are less permanent than other’s. Hooper’s is a military issue tent: quite a large canopy, with two rooms inside and a short porch area where he insists people leave their shoes. It’s all zipped up for the night and no light shines from inside.
I hang back for a moment. If Harris is keeping to the terms of our deal then someone will be watching this place. But I can see no-one.
“I saw Hooper take it.”
“Did you?” The worst of his rage is passing; he is now moving into a kind of contemptuous despair. I can imagine him wrapping up our interview soon, leaving the hut, locking the door, and dropping the key down the well in the yard. And why wouldn’t he? With my name tarnished they will not let me back to work on the Bombe - if there is the slightest smell of treachery about my name I would be lucky not be locked up for the remainder of the war. “I wish you’d stop with your deceptions and get to the truth, man. Every minute matters.”
I put my ear down to the keyhole, but there’s nothing now. Probably still a guard outside, of course, but they’re keeping mum.
I lift the cup and take a sip, staring him hard in the eye as I do so. He watches as I do so.
“Lapsang Souchong,” he remarks, placing his own cup down on the table with a clink. “Such a curious flavour. It might almost not be tea at all. You might say it hides a multitude of sins. As do you, isn’t that correct?”
“I know where it is.”
Harris smiles with satisfaction, as if your willingness to talk was somehow a result of his clever techniques.
“I see.” There’s a long pause, like the endless delay between feeding in a line of cypher to the Bombe and waiting for its valves and cylinders to heat up enough to being processing. “Would you like to explain?”
Curiouser and curiouser. I nod once to Harris and slip outside into the cold morning air.
Hooper’s confession only makes sense in one way - and that’s that he believed me, and reasoned that he would be followed. So to try and uncover the component would have got him arrest, to confess was just the same. He simply caved, and threw in his hand.
Of course, however, there is only one way to be certain that Harris is telling the truth, and that is to find a quiet moment and check the breeze-block at the back of Hut 2.
“I suppose so,” I reply. “I’ve certainly done things I regret. Things I shouldn’t have done.”
“I see,” Harris answers. “You’ve left yourself open. To pressure. Is that what you’re saying?”
No, I am content. I suppose I do not believe they will hang me. They will lock me up and continue to use my brain, if they can. I wonder what they will tell the world - perhaps that I have taken my own life. That would be simplest. The few who know me would believe it.
Well, then. Not a bad existence, in prison. Removed from temptation. A kind of imposed monasticism, with plenty more problems to solve, and more mysteries to fathom.
I wonder what else I might yet unravel before I’m done?
“Try me. Just me and him.”
“Alone?”
“Alone.”
Harris considers it. I watch his eyes, flicking backwards and forwards over mine, like a ribbon-reader trying to load in its program.
“Well, then,” I answer, nervously. “What would he do? Either get rid of it straight away - or if that wasn’t possible, which it probably wouldn’t be, since he’d have to arrange things with his contacts - so most likely, he’d hide it somewhere and wait, until you had the rope around my neck and he could be sure he was safe.”
“Makes sense,” Harris agrees, cautiously. I can see he’s still not entirely convinced by my tale, as well he might not be - I’ve hardly been entirely straight with him. “Which means the question is, what can we do to rat him out?”
It always does. An opportunity will present itself, and more easily too, now that Hooper is out of the way and not dogging my every step.
But for now, there’s yesterday’s intercept to be resolved. The Bombe needs to be set up once more and set running.
It’s time I tackled a problem I can solve.
The bunk has a solid metal frame, a blanket, a pillow, nothing more.
With my jacket wrapped round my arm, I sweep out the remaining shards of glass. It’s not a big window, but I’m not a big man. If I was Harris, I’d be stuffed, but as it is...
Then the door locks turns. The door opens. Then Jeremy - one of the guards, rather - sticks his head through the door. “I thought I heard...”
He stops. Looks for a moment. Sees the broken window. Then without a moment’s further thought he blows his shrill whistles and hustles into the hut, grabbing me roughly by my arms.
I’m hustled into one of the huts. Nowhere to sleep, but they’re not interested in my comfort any longer. Harris comes in with the Captain.
“So,” Harris remarks. “Looks like your little trap worked. Only it worked to show you out for what you are.”
“You want me to tell you what happened? You’ll be disgusted, I’m quite sure.”
“I can imagine how it starts,” he growls.
“There was a young man, Harris. I met him in the town. A few months ago now. We got to talking - not about work. I said I was an accountant for a firm, just as I was supposed to. Although he seemed to know that wasn’t true. That got me wondering if he wasn’t one of us.”
Harris is not letting me off any more. “You seriously considered that possibility?”
There is nothing to be gained here. I have the component now; maybe it will be of some value tomorrow.
“The component?”
“Yes,” Harris replies levelly. “The component that went missing this afternoon. I doubt that you’ve forgotten.”
He’s talking about the missing reel from the Bombe. Russell discovered it this afternoon when the machine began producing strange results. We were all in the Hut when it happened and it had been in place when we sat down to work. The conclusions had been obvious to all four of us immediately, but had gone undiscussed, even after the empty socket was located, the wiring torn on either side.
“Lucky these things are easy to replace,” Russell had remarked, and that had been that. We had stopped work, sent out for a new part to be machined. And drunk our tea and watched each other.
“Come now,” Harris says, quite the reasonable gent. “As I told you. We’re not interviewing everyone. Only you. So. I think you can be a little more forthcoming.”
The window is my only way out of here. I just need a way to smash it.
I nod. “I don’t need twelve minutes. The missing component of the Bombe computer is hidden in a small cavity in a breeze-block supporting the left rear post of Hut 2. I put in there anticipating a search. I intended to pass it to Hooper once the fuss had died down. I suppose I was foolish to think that it might.”
“Indeed you were. And, Mr Manning: God help you if you’re lying to me.”
Harris stands, and slips away smartly. Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
I wait a few minutes, to be sure Hooper and the Captain will have gone, then try the door. It’s locked, all right. I’m not really one for picking locks. Never tried it. I don’t think I’ll be getting out that way.
“I always meant to tell you,” I tell him. “I thought perhaps I could find out who they were. Lead you to them.”
Harris looks at me with contempt. “You wretched little man. Don’t think your tongue will be able to get you out of trouble. You’re going to pay for what you’ve done, and you’re going to pay dearly. If a single man loses his life because of your pride and your perversions then God help your eternal soul. The fact is you committed a crime.” If I had any sense that he understood my predicament, and that he felt for my state of being, it collapses like a chain with a broken link. “You thought you could repair it with another, more serious crime?” He shakes his head. “I thought you men were supposed to be clever. But this is the action of a frightened woman. So I’d like you to tell me, now. Where is it?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
There’s no time to lose. Throwing caution to the wind I make my way quickly to Hut 2, and around the back. I don’t think I’ve been followed, or seen but if I have, it’s too late. My actions are suspicious enough for anyone’s noose. I have no choice but to follow through.
The component is still there, wrapped in a tea-towel and shoved into a cavity in a breeze-block at the base of the Hut wall.
“No. I have no idea.”
He’s talking about the missing reel from the Bombe. Russell discovered it this afternoon when the machine began producing strange results. We were all in the Hut when it happened and it had been in place when we sat down to work. The conclusions had been obvious to all four of us immediately, but had gone undiscussed, even after the empty socket was located, the wiring torn on either side.
“Lucky these things are easy to replace,” Russell had remarked, and that had been that. We had stopped work, sent out for a new part to be machined. And drunk our tea and watched each other.
“Come now,” Harris says, quite the reasonable gent. “As I told you. We’re not interviewing everyone. Only you. So. I think you can be a little more forthcoming.”
“You’re the one applying pressure here,” I answer smartly. “I’m just waiting until you tell me what is really going on.”
“It’s simple enough,” Harris replies. “I’ve seen the same story a hundred times before,” he says. “A young man like yourself - clever, somewhat removed from the world. The kind that doesn’t go to parties, you might say. Who takes himself a little too seriously, perhaps. Takes things too far. Further than a man should allow a thing to go. That’s the story, isn’t it? You took things too far, and then you couldn’t take them back. And now they have you.”
From where he’s sitting, I know Hooper can see me, so I keep my head down and look guilty as sin. The bastard is probably smiling.
The Captain comes outside, pulling the door to. “What’s this?” he asks. “A confession? Just like that?”
“No,” the Commander admits, in a low voice. “I’m afraid not. Rather more a scheme. The idea is to let Hooper go and see what he does. If he believes we have Manning here in irons, he’ll try to shift the component.”
“If he has it.”
“Indeed.”
The Captain peers at me for a moment, like I was some kind of curious insect.
“Sometimes, I think you people are magicians,” he remarks. “Other times you seem more like witches. Very well.”
With that he opens the door to the Hut and goes back inside. The Commander uses the moment to hustle me roughly forward.
“This scheme of yours had better come off,” he hisses in my ear. “Otherwise the Captain is going to start having men tailing me to see where I go on Saturdays.”
The bunk has a solid metal frame, a blanket, a pillow, nothing more.
“I know nothing about it.” My voice is shaking with anger as I try to speak. I’m not accustomed to facing off against the Commander - against any man with a gun in his holster. “I don’t know what gives you the right to pick on me. I demand a lawyer.”
“This is time of war,” Harris answers. His tone of voice has fallen down into darkness. “And by God, if I have to shoot you to recover the component or stop it falling into the wrong hands, I will, do you understand me?”
There’s an icy silence. He’s angry. He waves an impetuous hand across the field table.
“Now, drink your tea and talk.”
I let him have his rant. He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
“No. I have no idea.”
“Come now,” Harris says, quite the reasonable gent. “I think you can be a little more forthcoming.”
“You’re the one applying pressure here,” I answer somewhat miserably. “I’m just waiting until you tell me what is really going on.”
“It’s simple enough,” Harris replies. “I’ve seen the same story a hundred times before,” he says. “A young man like yourself - clever, somewhat removed from the world. The kind that doesn’t go to parties, you might say. Who takes himself a little too seriously, perhaps. Takes things too far. Further than a man should allow a thing to go. That’s the story, isn’t it? You took things too far, and then you couldn’t take them back. And now they have you.”
I suppose I do not believe they will hang me. They will lock me up and continue to use my brain, if they can. I wonder what they will tell the world - perhaps that I have taken my own life. That would be simplest. The few who know me would believe it.
Well, then. Not a bad existence, in prison. Removed from temptation. A kind of imposed monasticism, with plenty more problems to solve, and more mysteries to fathom.
I wonder what else I might yet unravel before I’m done?
“The component?”
“Yes,” Harris replies levelly. “The component.”
“Well, as soon as it went missing the machine started to malfunction. We recognised the discrepancies in our results straight away...”
“Come now,” Harris says, quite the reasonable gent. “I think you can be a little more forthcoming.”
The bunk has a solid metal frame, a blanket, a pillow, nothing more.
“I can’t remember.”
He draws his gun and lays it lightly on the field table.
“I’m sorry to threaten you, friend. But His Majesty needs that brain of yours, and that brain alone. There are plenty of other parts to you that our country could do better without. Now I’ll ask you again. Did you hide the component?”
“Then I’ll be going, on and getting on with my job of saving her, shall I?” I even rise half to my feet, before he slams the tabletop.
“Talk,” Harris demands. “Talk, now. Tell me where you’ve hidden it or who you’ve passed it to. Or God help me, but I’ll take your wretched pansy body to pieces looking for it, do you understand me?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
The bucket? Hardly. The bucket might do some good if I wanted to sweep up the glass afterwards, but it won’t help me smash the glass quietly.
“Yes, perhaps. But also to ensure your name goes down in the annals of mathematics. All you have to do is go to the back of Hut 2. There’s a breeze-block with a cavity. That’s where I’ve put it. I’ll be locked up overnight, I should think. But you can pick it up and pass it to my contact. He’ll be at the south fence around two AM.”
“If you think I’ll do that then you’re crazy,” Hooper replies.
At that moment the door flies open and the Captain comes storming back inside.
Harris hustles me over to the barracks. “I hope that’s the end of it,” he mutters as he pushes me up the steps.
“Just be sure to let him out,” I reply. “And then see where he goes.”
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
“That’s exactly it,” I say quietly. “Harris. You understand. There are some things... which can get a man into a lot of trouble. Things one shouldn’t do.”
Harris, to his credit, doesn’t stiffen. He doesn’t lean away, or remove his hands from the table-top as though my condition might be infectious. I thought they trained them in the army to shoot my kind on sight but he does not.
Of course, he does not offer any sympathy either. He only nods, once. The understanding that has passed between us here is a mere turning cog in his calculations, with no meaning or righteousness to it.
“I’ve seen the same story a hundred times before,” he says. “A young man like yourself - clever, somewhat removed from the world. The kind that doesn’t go to parties, you might say. Who takes himself a little too seriously, perhaps. Takes things too far. Further than a man should allow a thing to go. That’s the story, isn’t it? You took things too far, and then you couldn’t take them back. And now they have you.”
I settle down to wait.
Night falls. The clockwork of the heavens keeps turning, whatever state I might be in. No-one can steal the components that make the sun go down and the stars come out. I watch it performing its operations. I can’t sleep.
“I was quite certain, after a while. After we’d been talking. He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
“Very well. I see there’s no point in covering up. You know everything anyway.”
Harris nods, and waits for me to continue.
“There was a young man, Harris. I met him in the town. A few months ago now. We got to talking - not about work. I said I was an accountant for a firm, just as I was supposed to. Although he seemed to know that wasn’t true. That got me wondering if he wasn’t one of us.”
Harris is not letting me off any more. “You seriously considered that possibility?”
“You mean he confessed of his own accord? You didn’t catch him?”
“The Captain went back into that hut and he confessed immediately. We were so surprised we didn’t let you go.” He wrinkles his nose. “I’m rather sorry about that now, but I suppose we’ll let you go know. I suggest you have a wash.”
And with that he gestures to the doorway.
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
“Only that this process is unreasonable, and I believe you’re behaving like a swine.”
“You imbecile,” Harris replies, with sudden force. He is half out of his chair. “You know the situation as well as I do, so why all this fencing? The Hun are poised like rats, ready to run all over this country. They’ll destroy everything, you do understand that, don’t you? You’re not so locked up inside your crossword puzzles that you don’t see that, are you? And this machine we have here - you men - you are the best and only hope this country has. God help her.”
I sit back, startled by the force of his outburst. His carefully sculpted expression has curled to angry disgust and there is spit flecking his lips. He really does hate me, I think. He’ll have my neck just for the taste of it.
If I leave the component here somewhere it should be somewhere I can rely on Hooper finding it, but no-one before Hooper. In particular.
“How should I know?” I reply, defensively. “All I can say is, ever since I arrived here, he’s been looking to ways to bring me down a peg. I wouldn’t be surprised if he set this whole affair up just to have me court-martialled.”
“We don’t court-martial civilians,” Harris replies. “Traitors are simply hung at her Majesty’s pleasure.”
“There’s nothing to explain,” I reply stiffly. “I know where your component is because it’s obvious where your component is. That doesn’t mean I took it, just because I can figure out a simple problem, any more than it means I’m a German spy because I can crack their codes.”
“Tell me, then,” he asks. “What’s your theory? You’re a smart fellow - as smart as they come around here, and that’s saying something. What’s your opinion on the missing component? Accident, perhaps? Or do you blame one of the other men?”
There is nothing I can do to speed up time. The night draws on at its own pace. I suppose by morning I will know my fate.
“If I wanted to escape, I would have made damn sure that I could,” I tell him sternly.
“Well, I’m afraid it is going to get worse for you,” Harris replies soberly. “We followed Hooper, and he took himself neatly to bed and slept like a boy scout. Which puts us back to square one, and you firmly in the frame. And I’m afraid I don’t have time for any more games. I want you to tell me where that component is, or we will hang you as a traitor.”
He passes a hand across his eyes with a long look of despair.
“I’m going to go outside and organise a rope. That’ll take about twelve minutes. That’s how long you have to decide.”
It’s no good. That’s only half a solution. I couldn’t be happy with that.
“I’m no traitor,” I answer smartly.
He stares back at me. “Let’s get straight to the point. Do you have the component?” Harris demands. “Do you know where it is?”
“The component?”
“Yes,” Harris replies levelly. “The component that went missing this afternoon. I doubt that you’ve forgotten.”
He’s talking about the missing reel from the Bombe. Russell discovered it this afternoon when the machine began producing strange results. We were all in the Hut when it happened and it had been in place when we sat down to work. The conclusions had been obvious to all four of us immediately, but had gone undiscussed, even after the empty socket was located, the wiring torn on either side.
“Lucky these things are easy to replace,” Russell had remarked, and that had been that. We had stopped work, sent out for a new part to be machined. And drunk our tea and watched each other.
“Come now,” Harris says, quite the reasonable gent. “As I told you. We’re not interviewing everyone. Only you. So. I think you can be a little more forthcoming.”
“No. Not for more than a moment, of course. Everyone here is marked out by how little we would be willing to say about it.”
“Only you told this young man more than a little, didn’t you?”
I nod. “He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
“I don’t know.”
“You can do better than that. Remember, there’s a hangman’s noose waiting for traitors.”
Making a wide circuit I creep around the tent. It has plenty of other flaps and openings, tied down with Gordian complexity. But nothing afford itself to slipping the component inside.
“We don’t have to believe anyone,” Harris replies sternly. “I intend to know the truth and be happy with nothing else. Right now, your story doesn’t hold water. It doesn’t tie up. We know you’ve been leaving yourself open to accusations. We’ve been watching your activities for some time. But we thought you were endangering the reputation of this site with the Government; not risking the country herself. Perhaps I put too much trust in your intellectual pride.”
He pauses for a moment, considering something. Then he continues:
“It might have been Hooper. It might have been you. No-one here is in the business of guessing, you know that. Our business is to decode. To get to the bottom of whatever’s going on. You’ve not placed yourself beyond suspicion and until you do so...” Harris shrugs. “I’m afraid I have fewer and fewer choices as time goes on. If that component has left these grounds then every minute is critical.”
I go over to the window and try to jimmy it open. Not much luck, but in my struggling I notice this window only backs on the thin little brook that runs down the back of the compound. Which means, if I smashed it, I might get away with no-one seeing.
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
“For God’s sake, man, what do you have to lose?”
“We’ll be outside the door,” Harris replies, seriously. “The first sign of any funny business and we’ll have you both on the floor in minutes. You understand? The country needs your brain, but it’s not too worried about your legs. Remember that.”
Then he gets to his feet, and opens the door, and marches me out and across the yard. The evening is drawing in and there’s a chill in the air. My mind is racing. I have one opportunity here - a moment in which to put the fear of God into Hooper and make him do something foolish to place himself in harm’s way. But how to achieve it?
“You ready?” Harris demands.
I put my ear to the keyhole but can make out nothing. Are there still guards posted? Perhaps, if Hooper has managed to incriminate himself, the guards have been removed?
Perhaps the door is unlocked and they left me to sleep? I try the handle. No such luck.
The night draws on at its own pace. I suppose by morning I will know my fate.
“Yes. Something like that. It’s a very lonely life otherwise. And the work we do - well. It only makes it worse. There’s barely a moment to oneself.”
“That’s how it is in the Service,” Harris answers. “I know you didn’t sign up for it but, well. There’s plenty of other men who didn’t who are serving now, too. Now, go on with your confession.”
That gives me pause, for a moment. I hadn’t thought of it as such. But I suppose that’s what this is. I am about to admit what I did, after all.
“There’s not much else to say. I took the part from Bombe computing device. You seem to know that already. I had to. He was going to expose me if I didn’t.”
“This young man was blackmailing you over your affair?”
I go over to the window and try to jimmy it open. Not much luck, but in my struggling I notice this window only backs on the thin little brook that runs down the back of the compound. Which means, if I smashed it, I might get away with no-one seeing.
“I always meant to tell you,” I tell him. “I thought perhaps I could find out who they were. Lead you to them.”
Harris looks at me with contempt. “You wretched little man. Don’t think your tongue will be able to get you out of trouble. You’re going to pay for what you’ve done, and you’re going to pay dearly. If a single man loses his life because of your pride and your perversions then God help your eternal soul. The fact is you committed a crime.” If I had any sense that he understood my predicament, and that he felt for my state of being, it collapses like a chain with a broken link. “You thought you could repair it with another, more serious crime?” He shakes his head. “I thought you men were supposed to be clever. But this is the action of a frightened woman. So I’d like you to tell me, now. Where is it?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
“I certainly don’t. But still, I’m surprised. I had Hooper down for a full-blown double agent, a traitor. He knows he’ll face the rope, doesn’t he?”
“Don’t ask me to explain why he did what he did,” Harris sighs. “Just be grateful that he did, and you’re now off the hook.”
Curiouser and curiouser. I nod once to Harris and slip outside into the cold morning air.
Hooper’s confession only makes sense in one fashion - if I successfully implied to him that I had him framed, but he did not unpack my little clue well enough to go looking for the component. Well, I had figured him for a more intelligent opponent, but a resignation from the game will suffice. Or perhaps he knew he would be followed if he went to check, and decided he would be doomed either way.
Of course, however, there is only one way to be certain that Harris is telling the truth, and that is to find a quiet moment and check the breeze-block at the back of Hut 2.
“What could I do?” I’m shaking now. The night is cold and the heat-lamp in this hut has been removed, presumably to keep me alert and on edge. “I won’t go to prison.”
“You committed a crime,” Harris answers. If I had any sense that he understood my predicament, and that he felt for my state of being, it collapses like a chain with a broken link. “You thought you could repair it with another, more serious crime?” He shakes his head. “I thought you men were supposed to be clever. But this is the action of a frightened woman. So I’d like you to tell me, now. Where is it?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
“Look, I know where it is. The missing piece of the Bombe is in the long grasses behind Hooper’s tent. I saw him throw it there right after we finished work. He knew you’d scour the camp but I suppose he thought you’d more obvious places first. I suppose he was right about that. Look there. That proves his guilt.”
“That doesn’t prove anything,” Harris returns sharply. “But we’ll check what you say, all the same.” He gets to his feet and heads out of the door.
Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
“I’m not sure. I was asleep: I woke up when someone broke the window. I looked out to see who it was, but they were already gone.”
Harris looks at me with puzzlement. “Someone came by to break the window, and then ran off? That’s absurd. That’s utterly absurd. Admit it, Manning. You tried to escape and you couldn’t get through.”
“Hooper, I’ll make a deal with you. We both know what happened in that hut this afternoon. I know because I did it, and you know because you know you didn’t. But once this is done I’ll be rich, and I’ll split that with you. I’ll let you have the results, too. Your name on the discovery of the Bombe. And it won’t hurt the war effort - you know as well as me that the component on its own is worthless, it’s the wiring of the Bombe, the usage, that’s what’s valuable. So how about it?”
Hooper looks back at me, appalled. “You’re asking me to commit treason?”
I wait a few minutes, to be sure the Commander will have gone, then try the door. It’s locked, all right. I’m not really one for picking locks. Never tried it. I don’t think I’ll be getting out that way.
From outside, I hear a voice. Hooper’s. He’s haranguing someone, for something.
No, I am content. I suppose I do not believe they will hang me. They will lock me up and continue to use my brain, if they can. I wonder what they will tell the world - perhaps that I have taken my own life. That would be simplest. The few who know me would believe it.
Well, then. Not a bad existence, in prison. Removed from temptation. A kind of imposed monasticism, with plenty more problems to solve, and more mysteries to fathom.
I wonder what else I might yet unravel before I’m done?
“I was quite certain, after a while. After we’d been talking. He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
“Only that this process is unreasonable, and I believe you’re behaving like a swine.”
“You imbecile,” Harris replies, with sudden force. He is half out of his chair. “You know the situation as well as I do, so why all this fencing? The Hun are poised like rats, ready to run all over this country. They’ll destroy everything, you do understand that, don’t you? You’re not so locked up inside your crossword puzzles that you don’t see that, are you? And this machine we have here - you men - you are the best and only hope this country has. God help her.”
I sit back, startled by the force of his outburst. His carefully sculpted expression has curled to angry disgust and there is spit flecking his lips. He really does hate me, I think. He’ll have my neck just for the taste of it.
The blanket. Perfect. I scoop it up off the bed and hold it in place over the window. This should do it. Then I heft the bucket - this really is quite a fiddly thing to be doing, and I need far longer arms, especially in cuffs - and take a strong swing, trying to imagine it’s Harris’ face on the other side.
The sound of the impact is muffled. With my arm still covered, I sweep out the remaining glass in the frame. I’m ready to escape. The only trouble is - when they look in on me in the morning, there will be no question what has happened. It won’t help me one jot with shifting suspicion off my back.
“Listen to me, Hooper. We were the only men in that hut today, so we know what happened. But I want you to know this. I put the component inside a breeze-block in the foundations of Hut 2, wrapped in one of your shirts. They’re going to find it eventually, and that’s going to be what tips the balance. And there’s nothing you can do to stop any of that from happening.”
His eyes bulge with terror. “What did I do, to you? What did I ever do?”
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
I wave cheerily back and she giggles, almost drops her bicycle, then dashes away inside the House. Judging by the clock on the front gable, she’s running a little late this morning.
I turn the corner of Hut 3 and walk down the short gravel path to Hut 2. It was a good spot to choose - Hut 2 is where the electricians work, and they’re generally focussed on what they’re doing. They don’t often come outside to smoke a cigarette so it’s easy to slip past the doorway unnoticed.
“I know nothing about it.” My voice is shaking with anger as I try to speak. I’m not accustomed to facing off against the Commander - against any man with a gun in his holster. “I don’t know what gives you the right to pick on me. I demand a lawyer.”
“This is time of war,” Harris answers. His tone of voice has fallen down into darkness. “And by God, if I have to shoot you to recover the component or stop it falling into the wrong hands, I will, do you understand me?”
There’s an icy silence. He’s angry. He waves an impetuous hand across the field table.
“Now, drink your tea and talk.”
“All right,” he declares, gruffly. “We’ll try it. But if this doesn’t work, I might just put the both of you in front of a firing squad and be done with these games. Worse things happen in time of war, you know.”
“Alone,” I add.
“Alone?”
“Alone.”
Harris considers it. I watch his eyes, flicking backwards and forwards over mine, like a ribbon-reader trying to load in its program.
“We’re still in ear-shot if they let Hooper go. Best get us inside and then we can talk, if we must.”
“I’ve had enough of your voice for one day,” Harris replies grimly. He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. I can only hope that Hooper bites on my baited hook. If he thinks I’m mad and bitter enough to have framed him somehow, and arrogant enough to have taunted him with a clue to where the damning evidence is hidden... if he hates me enough, and is paranoid enough, then he might unravel my little riddle and go searching around Hut 2.
Thinking back, I should have wrapped the part from the Bombe in one of his shirts before hiding it, that would have been a clever move. I really do make a terrible spy.
“Only that this process is unreasonable, and I believe you’re behaving like a swine.”
“You imbecile,” Harris replies, with sudden force. He is half out of his chair. “You know the situation as well as I do, so why all this fencing? The Hun are poised like rats, ready to run all over this country. They’ll destroy everything, you do understand that, don’t you? You’re not so locked up inside your crossword puzzles that you don’t see that, are you? And this machine we have here - you men - you are the best and only hope this country has. God help her.”
I sit back, startled by the force of his outburst. His carefully sculpted expression has curled to angry disgust and there is spit flecking his lips. He really does hate me, I think. He’ll have my neck just for the taste of it.
“I don’t have it any more. I passed it through the fence to my contact straight after taking it, before it was discovered to be missing. It would have been idiocy to do differently. It’s long gone, I’m afraid.”
“You fool, Manning,” Harris curses, getting quickly to his feet. “You utter fool. Do you suppose you will be any better off living under Hitler? It’s men like you who will get us all killed. Men too feeble, too weak in their hearts to stand up and take a man’s responsibility for the world. You’re happier to stay a child all your life and play with your little childish toys.”
I wait a few minutes, to be sure the Commander will have gone, then try the door. It’s locked, all right. I’m not really one for picking locks. Never tried it. I don’t think I’ll be getting out that way.
From outside, I hear a voice. Hooper’s. He’s haranguing someone, for something.
Ah, but of course! I slip off one shoe and heft it by the toe. The heel will make a decent enough hammer, if I give it enough wallop.
But I’ll cut my hand to ribbons doing it. And the noise would be terrible. There must be a way of making this easier. I’m supposed to be a thief now. What would a burglar do?
It’s no good. That’s only half a solution. I couldn’t be happy with that.
Let me see. There’s the bunk, nothing else. I have my jacket but nothing in the pockets - no handkerchief, for instance.
“I was quite certain, after a while. After we’d been talking. He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
I wait a few minutes, to be sure the Commander will have gone, then try the door. It’s locked, all right. I’m not really one for picking locks. Never tried it. I don’t think I’ll be getting out that way.
From outside, I hear a voice. Hooper’s. He’s haranguing someone, for something.
“Of my genius. Hooper simply can’t stand that I’m cleverer than he is. We work so closely together, cooped up in that Hut all day. It drives him to distraction. To worse.”
“You’re suggesting Hooper would sabotage this country’s future simply to spite you?” Harris chooses his words like the military man he is, each lining up to create a ring around me.
“For God’s sake, man, what do you have to lose?”
“We’ll be outside the door,” Harris replies, seriously. “The first sign of any funny business and we’ll have you both on the floor in minutes. You understand? The country needs your brain, but it’s not too worried about your legs. Remember that.”
Then he gets to his feet, and opens the door, and marches me out and across the yard. The evening is drawing in and there’s a chill in the air. My mind is racing. I have one opportunity here - a moment in which to put the fear of God into Hooper and make him do something foolish to place himself in harm’s way. But how to achieve it?
“You ready?” Harris demands.
I have no God to make peace with. I find it difficult to believe in goodness of any kind, in a world such as this.
But I am no traitor. At least, not to my country. To my sex, perhaps. But how could I support the Reich? If it were to come to power, I would be worse off than under the already dire circumstances of my existence.
In truth, it is men like Harris who are complex, not men like me. I live to make things ordered, systematic. I like my pencils sharpened and lined up in a row. I do not deal in difficult borders, or uncertainties, or alliances. If I could, I would reduce the world to something easier to understand, something finite. But of course, I cannot, not even here, in this little micro-world, this safe haven from the horrors of the war.
I have no place here. No way to fit. I am the intercept - caught, in the middle, cryptic and understood only thinly, through devices and machines.
“We’re still in ear-shot if they let Hooper go. Best get us inside and then we can talk, if we must.”
“I’ve had enough of your voice for one day,” Harris replies grimly. He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. I can only hope that Hooper bites on my baited hook. If he thinks I’m mad and bitter enough to have framed him somehow, and arrogant enough to have taunted him with a clue to where the damning evidence is hidden... if he hates me enough, and is paranoid enough, then he might unravel my little riddle and go searching around Hut 2.
Thinking back, I should have wrapped the part from the Bombe in one of his shirts before hiding it, that would have been a clever move. I really do make a terrible spy.
I put my ear down to the keyhole, but there’s nothing now. Probably still a guard outside, of course, but they’re keeping mum.
Then pause. This is too transparent. Too blatant. If I leave it here, like this, Hooper will never be seen to go looking for it: he will stumble over it in plain sight, and the men watching will wonder why it was not there when he went to bed.
No, I must try something else - or nothing at all.
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
I put my ear to the keyhole but can make out nothing. Are there still guards posted? Perhaps, if Hooper has managed to incriminate himself, the guards have been removed?
Perhaps the door is unlocked and they left me to sleep? I try the handle. No such luck.
The night draws on at its own pace. I suppose by morning I will know my fate.
I see. Perhaps you think I bullied the man into giving himself up. Perhaps he understood my little clue far enough to know it was a threat against him, but not well enough to understand where he should look to find it. So he took the easy route out and folded. Gave me the hand.
Hardly sporting, is that it?
I slip off my jacket and hold it with one hand over the glass. This should do it. Then I heft back my arm, and take a strong swing, trying to imagine it’s Harris’ face on the other side.
The sound of the impact is muffled. With my arm still covered, I sweep out the remaining glass in the frame. I’m ready to escape. The only trouble is - when they look in on me in the morning, there will be no question what has happened. It won’t help me one jot with shifting suspicion off my back.
“Explain what you should be doing, do you mean, rather than bullying me? Certainly.” I fold my arms. “I know where your component is because it’s obvious where your component is. That doesn’t mean I took it, just because I can figure out a simple problem, any more than it means I’m a German spy because I can crack their codes.”
“Tell me, then,” he asks. “What’s your theory? You’re a smart fellow - as smart as they come around here, and that’s saying something. What’s your opinion on the missing component? Accident, perhaps? Or do you blame one of the other men?”
“No. Not for more than a moment, of course. Everyone here is marked out by how little we would be willing to say about it.”
“Only you told this young man more than a little, didn’t you?”
I nod. “He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
“Just adding to the drama,” I tell him, confidently. “I’m sure you can understand that.”
“I think we’ve had enough drama today already,” Harris replies. “Let’s hope for a clean kill.”
He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
Work carefully? It’s difficult to work carefully when all one’s has is a shoe.
“I know nothing about it.” My voice is shaking as I try to speak. I’m not accustomed to facing off against the Commander - against any man with a gun in his holster. “I don’t know what gives you the right to pick on me. Shouldn’t I have a lawyer?”
“This is time of war,” Harris answers. His tone of voice has fallen down into darkness. “And by God, if I have to shoot you to recover the component or stop it falling into the wrong hands, I will, do you understand me?”
There’s an icy silence. He’s angry. He waves an impetuous hand across the field table.
“Now, drink your tea and talk.”
“An accident, naturally.” I risk a smile. “That damned machine, Harris; it’s made from spare parts and string. Even these huts leak when it rains. It wouldn’t take more than one fellow to trip over a cable to shake out a component and have it roll away across the floor. Have you tried looking under the thing?”
Harris doesn’t smile. “Do you suppose we haven’t? Do you supposed we haven’t combed every inch of this place already?”
In a sudden moment I understand that his reply is a threat.
“Now,” he continues. “Are you sure there isn’t anything you want to tell me?”
“There’s nothing to explain,” I reply stiffly. “I know where your component is because it’s obvious where your component is. That doesn’t mean I took it, just because I can figure out a simple problem, any more than it means I’m a German spy because I can crack their codes.”
“Tell me, then,” he asks. “What’s your theory? You’re a smart fellow - as smart as they come around here, and that’s saying something. What’s your opinion on the missing component? Accident, perhaps? Or do you blame one of the other men? Hooper?”
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
“Maybe I can help with that.”
“Oh, yes? And how, exactly?”
“I don’t know what I’m suggesting. I don’t understand what’s going on.”
“But of course you do.” Harris narrows his eyes. “Let’s get straight to the point. Do you have the component?” Harris demands. “Do you know where it is?”
“I’ll enjoy it. Thank you for helping me clear this up.”
“Don’t thank me yet. There’s still a war to fight. Now get a move on.”
I nod, and hurry out of the door. The air outside has never tasted fresher and more invigorating. I head for my dorm, intent on a bath, breakfast, a glance at the crossword before the other men get to it, and then on with work. They should have replaced the component in the Bombe by now. We will be back to it, only a day behind.
I bump into Russell in the dorm hut. “Did you hear?” he whispers. “Terrible news about Hooper. Absolutely terrible.”
I leave the cup exactly where it is. “Why?” I ask coldly. “What’s in it?”
“Lapsang Souchong,” he remarks, placing his own cup down on the table with a clink. “Such a curious flavour. It might almost not be tea at all. You might say it hides a multitude of sins. As do you, isn’t that correct?”
I wait a few minutes, to be sure the Commander will have gone, then try the door. It’s locked, all right. I’m not really one for picking locks. Never tried it. I don’t think I’ll be getting out that way.
From outside, I hear a voice. Hooper’s. He’s haranguing someone, for something.
“You want me to tell you what happened? You’ll be disgusted, I’m quite sure.”
“I can imagine how it starts,” he growls.
“There was a young man, Harris. I met him in the town. A few months ago now. We got to talking - not about work. I said I was an accountant for a firm, just as I was supposed to. Although he seemed to know that wasn’t true. That got me wondering if he wasn’t one of us.”
Harris is not letting me off any more. “You seriously considered that possibility?”
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
The blanket. Perfect. I scoop it up off the bed and hold it in place over the window. This should do it. Then I heft my shoe by its toe, and take a strong swing, trying to imagine it’s Harris’ face on the other side.
The sound of the impact is muffled. With my arm still covered, I sweep out the remaining glass in the frame. I’m ready to escape. The only trouble is - when they look in on me in the morning, there will be no question what has happened. It won’t help me one jot with shifting suspicion off my back.
“I can’t remember.”
He draws his gun and lays it lightly on the field table.
“I’m sorry to threaten you, friend. But His Majesty needs that brain of yours, and that brain alone. There are plenty of other parts to you that our country could do better without. Now I’ll ask you again. Did you hide the component?”
“So he’s an idiot, and he hid it in his shoe.”
“No,” Harris replies. “That isn’t really what I mean. I mean, he managed to find it, by accident, somewhere where it wasn’t the night before. And at the same time, you’re sitting here with your window broken. So, I rather think you’ve played your last hand and lost. There’s no way Hooper stole that component and then just left it lying around in the doorway of his tent. No way at all. So I came to tell you that the game is up for you.”
He nods and gets to his feet. Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
“No. I passed it on to Hooper.”
“I see. And what did he do with it?”
“I always meant to tell you,” I tell him. “I thought perhaps I could find out who they were. Lead you to them.”
Harris looks at me with contempt. “You wretched little man. Don’t think your tongue will be able to get you out of trouble. You’re going to pay for what you’ve done, and you’re going to pay dearly. If a single man loses his life because of your pride and your perversions then God help your eternal soul. The fact is you committed a crime.” If I had any sense that he understood my predicament, and that he felt for my state of being, it collapses like a chain with a broken link. “You thought you could repair it with another, more serious crime?” He shakes his head. “I thought you men were supposed to be clever. But this is the action of a frightened woman. So I’d like you to tell me, now. Where is it?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
“I climbed out of the window overnight,” I explain. “I went and got this from where it was hidden, and brought it back here.”
“This is all too far-fetched,” Harris says. “I’m glad to have this back, but I need to think.”
Getting to his feet, he nods once. “You’ll have to wait a little longer, I’m afraid, Manning.”
Then he steps out of the door, muttering to himself.
“No. Not for more than a moment, of course. Everyone here is marked out by how little we would be willing to say about it.”
“Only you told this young man more than a little, didn’t you?”
I nod. “He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
“No, Harris. I don’t think you can understand.”
“Go on with your confession,” he replies. That gives me pause, for a moment. I hadn’t thought of it as such. But I suppose that’s what this is. I am about to admit what I did, after all.
“There’s not much else to say. I took the part from Bombe computing device. You seem to know that already. I had to. He was going to expose me if I didn’t.”
“This young man was blackmailing you over your affair?”
As Harris speaks I find myself suddenly sharply aware, as if waking from a long sleep. The table, the corrugated walls of the hut, everything seems suddenly more tangible than a moment before. Perhaps whatever it was they put in my drink is wearing off?
I slip off my jacket and hold it with one hand over the glass. This should do it. Then I heft the bucket - this really is quite a fiddly thing to be doing, and I need far longer arms, especially in cuffs - and take a strong swing, trying to imagine it’s Harris’ face on the other side.
The sound of the impact is muffled. With my arm still covered, I sweep out the remaining glass in the frame. I’m ready to escape. The only trouble is - when they look in on me in the morning, there will be no question what has happened. It won’t help me one jot with shifting suspicion off my back.
Quickly, I pull it free, and slip it into the pocket of my jacket.
Where now?
That is Harris returning. Our little computation here is complete.
That is the true secret of the calculating engine, and the source of its power: not in the components themselves, but in how they are wired together. The diversity of patterns and structures they can form. Much like people - it is how they connect that determines our victories and tragedies, and not their genius.
Which makes me wonder. Should I give the young man who put me in this spot to them as well as myself?
From where he’s sitting, I know Hooper can see me, so I keep my head down and look guilty as sin. The bastard is probably smiling.
The Captain comes outside, pulling the door to. “What’s this?” he asks. “A confession? Just like that?”
“No,” the Commander admits, in a low voice. “I’m afraid not. Rather more a scheme. The idea is to let Hooper go and see what he does. If he believes we have Manning here in irons, he’ll try to shift the component.”
“If he has it.”
“Indeed.”
The Captain peers at me for a moment, like I was some kind of curious insect.
“Sometimes, I think you people are magicians,” he remarks. “Other times you seem more like witches. Very well.”
With that he opens the door to the Hut and goes back inside. The Commander uses the moment to hustle me roughly forward.
“This scheme of yours had better come off,” he hisses in my ear. “Otherwise the Captain is going to start having men tailing me to see where I go on Saturdays.”
“I always meant to tell you,” I tell him. “I thought perhaps I could find out who they were. Lead you to them.”
Harris looks at me with contempt. “You wretched little man. Don’t think your tongue will be able to get you out of trouble. You’re going to pay for what you’ve done, and you’re going to pay dearly. If a single man loses his life because of your pride and your perversions then God help your eternal soul. The fact is you committed a crime.” If I had any sense that he understood my predicament, and that he felt for my state of being, it collapses like a chain with a broken link. “You thought you could repair it with another, more serious crime?” He shakes his head. “I thought you men were supposed to be clever. But this is the action of a frightened woman. So I’d like you to tell me, now. Where is it?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
There is nothing I can do to speed up time. The night draws on at its own pace. I suppose by morning I will know my fate.
“No. Not for more than a moment, of course. Everyone here is marked out by how little we would be willing to say about it.”
“Only you told this young man more than a little, didn’t you?”
I nod. “He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
“All right.” I am beaten, after all. “The missing component of the Bombe computer is hidden in a small cavity in a breeze-block supporting the left rear post of Hut 2. I put in there anticipating a search. I intended to dispose of it once the fuss had died down. I suppose I was foolish to think that it might.”
“Indeed you were. And, Mr Manning: God help you if you’re lying to me.”
Harris stands, and slips away smartly. The Commander holds the door for his superior, and follows him out. Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
“I broke it,” I reply. There doesn’t seem any use in trying to lie. “I thought I could escape. But I couldn’t get myself through.”
The Commander laughs. “Shame,” he remarks. “I should have left that window open and put a guard on you. Might have been interesting to see where you went. Anyway, I’m glad you’re still here, even if you do smell like a dog.”
There is nothing I can do to speed up time. The night draws on at its own pace. I suppose by morning I will know my fate.
The blanket. Perfect. I scoop it up off the bed and hold it in place over the window. This should do it. Then I heft my shoe by its toe, and take a strong swing, trying to imagine it’s Harris’ face on the other side.
The sound of the impact is muffled. With my arm still covered, I sweep out the remaining glass in the frame. I’m ready to escape. The only trouble is - when they look in on me in the morning, there will be no question what has happened. It won’t help me one jot with shifting suspicion off my back.
There is nothing to be gained here. I have the component now; maybe it will be of some value tomorrow.
That is Harris returning. Our little computation here is complete.
That is the true secret of the calculating engine, and the source of its power: not in the components themselves, but in how they are wired together. The diversity of patterns and structures they can form. Much like people - it is how they connect that determines our victories and tragedies, and not their genius.
Which makes me wonder. Should I give up my beautiful young man to them as well as myself?
“The Captain thought it was a good scheme. You’ll most likely get a promotion.”
“Let’s hope things work out,” Harris agrees darkly.
He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
“I don’t know.”
“You can do better than that. Remember, there’s a hangman’s noose waiting for traitors.”
The bunk has a solid metal frame, a blanket, a pillow, nothing more.
“An accident, naturally.” I risk a smile. “That damned machine, Harris; it’s made from spare parts and string. Even these huts leak when it rains. It wouldn’t take more than one fellow to trip over a cable to shake out a component and have it roll away across the floor. Have you tried looking under the thing?”
Harris doesn’t smile. “Do you suppose we haven’t? Do you supposed we haven’t combed every inch of this place already?”
In a sudden moment I understand that his reply is a threat.
“Now,” he continues. “Are you sure there isn’t anything you want to tell me?”
“All right. All right. That’s exactly what happened.”
“Shame,” he remarks. “I should have left that window open and put a guard on you. Might have been interesting to see where you went. Anyway, I’m glad you’re still here, even if you do smell like a dog.”
Let me see. There’s the bunk, nothing else. I have my jacket but nothing in the pockets - no handkerchief, for instance.
It’s no good. Nothing I can do will be any less than obvious - something appearing where something was not there before. The men watching Hooper will know it is a deception and Hooper’s protestations will be taken at face value.
If I can’t find a way for Hooper to pick the component up, as if from a hiding place of his own devising, and be caught doing it, then I have no plan at all.
“Or be thrown into the river.”
“Hmm.” Harris chews his moustache thoughtfully. “Well, that would put us in a spot, seeing as how we’d never know for certain. We’d have to be ready to change our whole approach just in case the part had got through to the Germans. I don’t mind telling you, this is a disaster, this whole thing. What I want is to find that little bit of mechanical trickery anywhere. I don’t care where. In your luncheon box or under Hooper’s pillow, whatever. Just somewhere, and within the grounds of this place.”
The blanket. Perfect. I scoop it up off the bed and hold it in place over the window. This should do it. Then I heft back my arm, and take a strong swing, trying to imagine it’s Harris’ face on the other side.
The sound of the impact is muffled. With my arm still covered, I sweep out the remaining glass in the frame. I’m ready to escape. The only trouble is - when they look in on me in the morning, there will be no question what has happened. It won’t help me one jot with shifting suspicion off my back.
“I’ve thought so before.”
“Let me tell you what happened this morning. Our men watching Hooper’s tent saw Hooper wake up, get dressed, clamber out of his tent and then remark with surprise as, while looking for his shoes, he stumbled on something just at the entrance of his tent.”
“There’s nothing to explain,” I reply stiffly. “I know where your component is because it’s obvious where your component is. That doesn’t mean I took it, just because I can figure out a simple problem, any more than it means I’m a German spy because I can crack their codes.”
“Tell me, then,” he asks. “What’s your theory? You’re a smart fellow - as smart as they come around here, and that’s saying something. What’s your opinion on the missing component? Accident, perhaps? Or do you blame one of the other men? Hooper?”
It’s no good. Nothing I can do will be any less than obvious - something appearing where something was not there before. The men watching Hooper will know it is a deception and Hooper’s protestations will be taken at face value.
If I can’t find a way for Hooper to pick the component up, as if from a hiding place of his own devising, and be caught doing it, then I have no plan at all.
I put my ear down to the keyhole, but there’s nothing now. Probably still a guard outside, of course, but they’re keeping mum.
My anger deflates like a collapsing equation, all arguments cancelling each other out. The world, of course, owes me nothing; and I owe it everything.
“I’m afraid we have only one option, Manning,” Harris says. “Please, man. Tell us where the component is.”
I slip off my jacket and hold it with one hand over the glass. This should do it. Then I heft my shoe by its toe, and take a strong swing, trying to imagine it’s Harris’ face on the other side.
The sound of the impact is muffled. With my arm still covered, I sweep out the remaining glass in the frame. I’m ready to escape. The only trouble is - when they look in on me in the morning, there will be no question what has happened. It won’t help me one jot with shifting suspicion off my back.
“Now steady on,” I reply, gesturing for him to calm himself.
“Talk,” Harris demands. “Talk, now. Tell me where you’ve hidden it or who you’ve passed it to. Or God help me, but I’ll take your wretched pansy body to pieces looking for it, do you understand me?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
“I’m not trying to do anything except save my neck.”
“Let’s hope things work out,” Harris agrees darkly.
He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. I can only hope that Hooper bites on my baited hook. If he thinks I’m mad and bitter enough to have framed him somehow, and arrogant enough to have taunted him with a clue to where the damning evidence is hidden... if he hates me enough, and is paranoid enough, then he might unravel my little riddle and go searching around Hut 2.
Thinking back, I should have wrapped the part from the Bombe in one of his shirts before hiding it, that would have been a clever move. I really do make a terrible spy.
The blanket. Perfect. I scoop it up off the bed and hold it in place over the window. This should do it. Then I heft the bucket - this really is quite a fiddly thing to be doing, and I need far longer arms, especially in cuffs - and take a strong swing, trying to imagine it’s Harris’ face on the other side.
The sound of the impact is muffled. With my arm still covered, I sweep out the remaining glass in the frame. I’m ready to escape. The only trouble is - when they look in on me in the morning, there will be no question what has happened. It won’t help me one jot with shifting suspicion off my back.
“Then you know I’m right. You knew all along. Why did you threaten me?”
“We don’t know anything, except that we have a traitor, holding the fate of the country in their hands. No-one here is in the business of guessing, you know that. Our business is to decode. To get to the bottom of whatever’s going on. You’ve not placed yourself beyond suspicion and until you do so...” Harris shrugs. “I’m afraid I have fewer and fewer choices as time goes on. If that component has left these grounds then every minute is critical.”
The blanket. Perfect. I scoop it up off the bed and hold it in place over the window. This should do it. Then I heft back my arm, and take a strong swing, trying to imagine it’s Harris’ face on the other side.
The sound of the impact is muffled. With my arm still covered, I sweep out the remaining glass in the frame. I’m ready to escape. The only trouble is - when they look in on me in the morning, there will be no question what has happened. It won’t help me one jot with shifting suspicion off my back.
I put my ear down to the keyhole, but there’s nothing now. Probably still a guard outside, of course, but they’re keeping mum.
I fold my arms, intended firmly to say nothing. But somehow, watching Harris’ face, I cannot bring myself to do it. I want to confess. I want to tell him everything I can, to explain myself to him, to earn his forgiveness. The sensation is so strong my will is powerless in the face of it.
Something is wrong with me, I am sure of it. There is a strange, bitter flavour on my tongue. I taste it as words start to form.
“I’ve done things,” I begin, uncomfortably. “I didn’t want to. I tried not to. But in the end, you understand. I had to. It felt like cutting off my own arm not to. Things I know I shouldn’t have. Things I perhaps regret.”
“I see,” Harris answers. “You’ve left yourself open. To pressure. Is that what you’re saying?”
“Yes, perhaps. But also to ensure your name goes down in the annals of mathematics. All you have to do is go to the back of Hut 2. There’s a breeze-block with a cavity. That’s where I’ve put it. I’ll be locked up overnight, I should think. But you can pick it up and pass it to my contact. He’ll be at the south fence around two AM.”
“If you think I’ll do that then you’re crazy,” Hooper replies.
At that moment the door flies open and the Captain comes storming back inside.
Harris hustles me over to the barracks. “I hope that’s the end of it,” he mutters as he pushes me up the steps.
“Just be sure to let him out,” I reply. “And then see where he goes.”
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
“All right.” With a sigh, your defiance collapses."If you’re searched my things then I suppose you’ve found... what you need.
Harris nods once. “I’ve seen the same story a hundred times before,” he says. “A young man like yourself - clever, somewhat removed from the world. The kind that doesn’t go to parties, you might say. Who takes himself a little too seriously, perhaps. Takes things too far. Further than a man should allow a thing to go. That’s the story, isn’t it? You took things too far, and then you couldn’t take them back. And now they have you.”
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
I have no God to make peace with. I find it difficult to believe in goodness of any kind, in a world such as this.
I have no place here. No way to fit. I am the intercept - caught, in the middle, cryptic and understood only thinly, through devices and machines.
“He has? I knew he would. The worm.”
“Steady now. Matters aren’t over yet. There’s still the issue of the component. It hasn’t turned up. He didn’t lead us to it. I guess he figured you must have had something on him. I don’t know.”
He looks quite put out by the whole affair. He is not the kind of man to deal well with ambiguities and probabilities, far preferred the clarity of fact and falsehood.
“Very well then.” I swallow nervously, to make it look more genuine. “No. I passed it on to Hooper.”
“I see. And what did he do with it?”
“Well, then,” I answer, nervously. “What would he do? Either get rid of it straight away - or if that wasn’t possible, which it probably wouldn’t be, since he’d have to arrange things with his contacts - so most likely, he’d hide it somewhere and wait, until you had the rope around my neck and he could be sure he was safe.”
“Makes sense,” Harris agrees, cautiously. I can see he’s still not entirely convinced by my tale, as well he might not be - I’ve hardly been entirely straight with him. “Which means the question is, what can we do to rat him out?”
The rest of the night passes slowly. I sleep a little, dozing mostly. Then I’m woken by the rooster in the yard. The door opens, and Harris comes in. He takes one look at the broken window and frowns with puzzlement.
“What happened there?”
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
“All right.” I am beaten, after all. “The missing component of the Bombe computer is hidden in a small cavity in a breeze-block supporting the left rear post of Hut 2. I put in there anticipating a search. I intended to dispose of it once the fuss had died down. I suppose I was foolish to think that it might.”
“Indeed you were. And, Mr Manning: God help you if you’re lying to me.”
Harris stands, and slips away smartly. The Commander holds the door for his superior, and follows him out. Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
“Absolutely.”
Harris opens the door and pushes me inside. “Captain,” he calls. “Could I have a moment?”
The Captain, looking puzzled, steps out. The door is closed. Hooper stares at me, open-mouthed, about to say something. I probably have less than a minute before the Captain storms back in and declares this plan to be bunkum.
If I leave the component here somewhere it should be somewhere I can rely on Hooper finding it, but no-one before Hooper. In particular.
“It’s not that bad. I can still fix it.”
Harris shakes his head. “This isn’t a problem to be cracked. This isn’t a puzzle. I’m sorry, but this is bigger than you now. Look. You can go to prison for what you’ve done, or we can change your identity and move you somewhere where your... indiscretions... can’t hurt anyone any more. But right now none of that matters. What happens to you, doesn’t matter. All that matters is where that component is. So I’d like you to tell me, now. Where is it?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
“Yes, I considered it. He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
I put my ear down to the keyhole, but there’s nothing now. Probably still a guard outside, of course, but they’re keeping mum.
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
If I leave the component here somewhere it should be somewhere I can rely on Hooper finding it, but no-one before Hooper. In particular.
“It’s not that bad. I can still fix it.”
Harris shakes his head. “This isn’t a problem to be cracked. This isn’t a puzzle. I’m sorry, but this is bigger than you now. Look. You can go to prison for what you’ve done, or we can change your identity and move you somewhere where your... indiscretions... can’t hurt anyone any more. But right now none of that matters. What happens to you, doesn’t matter. All that matters is where that component is. So I’d like you to tell me, now. Where is it?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
If I leave the component here somewhere it should be somewhere I can rely on Hooper finding it, but no-one before Hooper. In particular.
Morning comes. I’m woken by a rooster calling from the yard behind the House. I must have slept after all. I pull myself up from the bunk, shivering slightly. There is condensation on the inside of the window. I have probably given myself a chill.
The door handle turns and without knocking, Harris comes inside. “You’re up,” he remarks, and then, “You smell like an animal.”
I have no God to make peace with. I find it difficult to believe in goodness of any kind, in a world such as this.
But I am no traitor. At least, not to my country. To my sex, perhaps. But how could I support the Reich? If it were to come to power, I would be worse off than under the already dire circumstances of my existence.
In truth, it is men like Harris who are complex, not men like me. I live to make things ordered, systematic. I like my pencils sharpened and lined up in a row. I do not deal in difficult borders, or uncertainties, or alliances. If I could, I would reduce the world to something easier to understand, something finite. But of course, I cannot, not even here, in this little micro-world, this safe haven from the horrors of the war.
I have no place here. No way to fit. I am the intercept - caught, in the middle, cryptic and understood only thinly, through devices and machines.
“I know where it is.”
Harris stares back at me. He cannot have expected it to be so easy to break me.
“I see.” There’s a long pause, like the endless delay between feeding in a line of cypher to the Bombe and waiting for its valves and cylinders to heat up enough to being processing. “Would you like to explain?”
“I know where it is.”
Harris stares back at me.
“I see.” There’s a long pause, like the endless delay between feeding in a line of cypher to the Bombe and waiting for its valves and cylinders to heat up enough to being processing. “Would you like to explain?”
“I’ve thought so before.” Certainly in the matter of getting blackmailed.
“Let me tell you what happened this morning. Our men watching Hooper’s tent saw Hooper wake up, get dressed, clamber out of his tent and then remark with surprise as, while looking for his shoes, he stumbled on something just at the entrance of his tent.”
The blanket. Perfect. I scoop it up off the bed and hold it in place over the window. This should do it. Then I heft my shoe by its toe, and take a strong swing, trying to imagine it’s Harris’ face on the other side.
The sound of the impact is muffled. With my arm still covered, I sweep out the remaining glass in the frame. I’m ready to escape. The only trouble is - when they look in on me in the morning, there will be no question what has happened. It won’t help me one jot with shifting suspicion off my back.
“All right. All right. That’s exactly what happened.”
“Shame,” he remarks. “I should have left that window open and put a guard on you. Might have been interesting to see where you went. Anyway, I’m glad you’re still here, even if you do smell like a dog.”
I wait a few minutes, to be sure the Commander will have gone, then try the door. It’s locked, all right. I’m not really one for picking locks. Never tried it. I don’t think I’ll be getting out that way.
From outside, I hear a voice. Hooper’s. He’s haranguing someone, for something.
Then pause. This is too transparent. Too blatant. If I leave it here, like this, Hooper will never be seen to go looking for it: he will stumble over it in plain sight, and the men watching will wonder why it was not there when he went to bed.
No, I must try something else - or nothing at all.
Enough of this place. Time for me to get moving. I can get to the train station on foot, catch the postal train to Scotland and be somewhere else before anyone realises that I’m gone.
Of course, then they’ll be looking for me in earnest. As a confirmed traitor.
“For God’s sake,” I answer, voice quivering. “I’m no traitor.”
He stares back at me. “Let’s get straight to the point. Do you have the component?” Harris demands. “Do you know where it is?”
Work carefully? It’s difficult to work carefully when all one’s has is nothing but brute force.
“Yes. Something like that. It’s a very lonely life otherwise. And the work we do - well. It only makes it worse. There’s barely a moment to oneself.”
“That’s how it is in the Service,” Harris answers. “I know you didn’t sign up for it but, well. There’s plenty of other men who didn’t who are serving now, too. Now, go on with your confession.”
That gives me pause, for a moment. I hadn’t thought of it as such. But I suppose that’s what this is. I am about to admit what I did, after all.
“There’s not much else to say. I took the part from Bombe computing device. You seem to know that already. I had to. He was going to expose me if I didn’t.”
“This young man was blackmailing you over your affair?”
I suppose I do not believe they will hang me. They will lock me up and continue to use my brain, if they can. I wonder what they will tell the world - perhaps that I have taken my own life. That would be simplest. The few who know me would believe it.
Well, then. Not a bad existence, in prison. Removed from temptation. A kind of imposed monasticism, with plenty more problems to solve, and more mysteries to fathom.
I wonder what else I might yet unravel before I’m done?
“Very well then.” I swallow nervously, to make it look more genuine. “No. I passed it on to Hooper.”
“I see. And what did he do with it?”
I pause a moment, trying to choose my words. To just come out and say it, after a lifetime of hiding... I wouldn’t know how. To put it into words, bluntly and directly: that is a circle I cannot square.
“I’ve done things,” I begin, uncomfortably. “I didn’t want to. I tried not to. But in the end, you understand. I had to. It felt like cutting off my own arm not to. Things I know I shouldn’t have. Things I perhaps regret.”
“I see,” Harris answers. “You’ve left yourself open. To pressure. Is that what you’re saying?”
“None of us are blameless, Harris. But I’ve done nothing to deserve this treatment. Now, please. Let me go. I’ll help you find this damn component, of course I will.”
He appears to consider the offer.
“Tell me, then,” he asks. “What’s your theory? You’re a smart fellow - as smart as they come around here, and that’s saying something. What’s your opinion on the missing component? Accident, perhaps? Or do you blame one of the other men?”
I hang back a moment. Something does not seem quite right. After all, Hooper did not steal the component. He has no reason to confess to anything. Perhaps this is another trap?
“Well?” Harris asks. “What are you waiting for? Please don’t tell me you want to confess now as well, I don’t think my head could stand it.”
“It’s not that bad. I can still fix it.”
Harris shakes his head. “This isn’t a problem to be cracked. This isn’t a puzzle. I’m sorry, but this is bigger than you now. Look. You can go to prison for what you’ve done, or we can change your identity and move you somewhere where your... indiscretions... can’t hurt anyone any more. But right now none of that matters. What happens to you, doesn’t matter. All that matters is where that component is. So I’d like you to tell me, now. Where is it?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
Morning comes slowly, but I must fall asleep at some point, because the next thing I know the rooster is calling and a cool, fresh breeze is blowing through the open window. I barely have time to wipe the sleep from my eyes and brush myself down before the door opens and Harris enters.
He takes one look around, and sighs, a deep, wistful sigh.
“Things just get worse and worse for you, Manning,” he remarks. “You are your own worst enemy.”
I put my ear down to the keyhole, but there’s nothing now. Probably still a guard outside, of course, but they’re keeping mum.
“I know nothing about it.” My voice is shaking with anger as I try to speak. I’m not accustomed to facing off against the Commander - against any man with a gun in his holster. “I don’t know what gives you the right to pick on me. I demand a lawyer.”
“This is time of war,” Harris answers. His tone of voice has fallen down into darkness. “And by God, if I have to shoot you to recover the component or stop it falling into the wrong hands, I will, do you understand me?”
There’s an icy silence. He’s angry. He waves an impetuous hand across the field table.
“Now, drink your tea and talk.”
Plenty of time for that later. If there is nothing there, then Hooper discovered the component after all and Harris’ men will have swooped on him, and the story about his confession is just a ruse to test me out. And if the component is still there - well. It will be just as valuable to my young man in the village in a week’s time, and his deadline of the 31st is not quite upon us.
I head for my dorm, intent on a bath, breakfast, a glance at the crossword before the other men get to it, and then on with work. They should have replaced the component in the Bombe by now. We will be back to it, only a day behind.
And everything will proceed as before. The component will mean nothing to the Germans - this is the one fact I could never have explained to a man like Harris despite the fact that the principle behind the Bombe is the same as the principle behind an army. The individual pieces - the men, the components - do not matter. They are quite identical. It is how they are arranged that counts. The structures and patterns that they form.
I bump into Russell in the dorm hut. “Did you hear?” he whispers. “Terrible news about Hooper. Absolutely terrible.”
“No. Not for more than a moment, of course. Everyone here is marked out by how little we would be willing to say about it.”
“Only you told this young man more than a little, didn’t you?”
I nod. “He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
“I am what I am,” I reply. “I’m the way nature made me. But they’re going to hang me unless you help me, Hooper. Don’t let them hang me.”
“Assuming I wanted to help you,” he replies, carefully. “Which I don’t. What would I do?”
“Nothing. Almost nothing.
All you have to do is go to the back of Hut 2. There’s a breeze-block with a cavity. That’s where I’ve put it. I’ll be locked up overnight, I should think. But you can pick it up and pass it to my contact. He’ll be at the south fence around two AM."
“If you think I’ll do that then you’re crazy,” Hooper replies.
At that moment the door flies open and the Captain comes storming back inside.
Harris hustles me over to the barracks. “I hope that’s the end of it,” he mutters as he pushes me up the steps.
“Just be sure to let him out,” I reply. “And then see where he goes.”
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
I settle down to wait.
Night falls. The clockwork of the heavens keeps turning, whatever state I might be in. No-one can steal the components that make the sun go down and the stars come out. I watch it performing its operations. I can’t sleep.
Has Hooper taken my bait?
Enough of this place. Time for me to get moving. I can get to the train station on foot, catch the postal train to Scotland and be somewhere else before anyone realises that I’m gone.
Of course, then they’ll be looking for me in earnest. As a confirmed traitor.
That is Harris returning. Our little computation here is complete.
That is the true secret of the calculating engine, and the source of its power: not in the components themselves, but in how they are wired together. The diversity of patterns and structures they can form. Much like people - it is how they connect that determines our victories and tragedies, and not their genius.
Which makes me wonder. Should I give up my beautiful young man to them as well as myself?
“All right.” With a sigh, your defiance collapses."If you’re searched my things then I suppose you’ve found my letters. Haven’t you? In fact, if you haven’t, don’t tell me.
Harris nods once. “I’ve seen the same story a hundred times before,” he says. “A young man like yourself - clever, somewhat removed from the world. The kind that doesn’t go to parties, you might say. Who takes himself a little too seriously, perhaps. Takes things too far. Further than a man should allow a thing to go. That’s the story, isn’t it? You took things too far, and then you couldn’t take them back. And now they have you.”
There is nothing I can do to speed up time. The night draws on at its own pace. I suppose by morning I will know my fate.
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
I nod. “I don’t need twelve minutes. The missing component of the Bombe computer is hidden in a small cavity in a breeze-block supporting the left rear post of Hut 2. I put in there anticipating a search. I intended to pass it to Hooper once the fuss had died down. I suppose I was foolish to think that it might.”
“Indeed you were. And, Mr Manning: God help you if you’re lying to me.”
Harris stands, and slips away smartly. Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
“It will. Hooper’s running scared,” I reply, hoping I sound more confident than I feel.
“I think we’ve had enough drama today already,” Harris replies. “Let’s hope for a clean kill.”
He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
I pat down my pockets but all I’m carrying is the intercept, which is no good at all.
It depends, perhaps, on what his name his worth. If it were to prove valuable, well; perhaps I can concoct a few more such lovers with which to ease my later days.
Hooper, perhaps. He wouldn’t like that.
Harris put the cuffs around my wrists. “I still have the intercept in my pocket,” I remark. “Wherever we’re going, could I have a pencil?”
He looks me in the eye.
“Certainly. And one of your computing things, if I get my way. And when we’re old, and smoking pipes together in The Rag like heroes, I’ll explain to you the way that decent men have affairs. You scientists.” He drags me up to my feet. “You think you have to re-invent everything.”
With that, he hustles me out of the door and I can’t help thinking that, with a little more strategy, I could still have won the day. But too late now, of course.
I shake my head violently, to say no, that’s not it, but whatever is wrong with tongue is wrong with neck too. I look across at the table at Harris’ face and realise with a start how sympathetic he is. Such a kind, generous man. How can I hold anything back from him?
I take another mouthful of the bitter, strange-tasting tea before answering.
“That’s exactly it,” I say quietly. “Harris. You understand. There are some things... which can get a man into a lot of trouble. Things one shouldn’t do.”
Harris, to his credit, doesn’t stiffen. He doesn’t lean away, or remove his hands from the table-top as though my condition might be infectious. I thought they trained them in the army to shoot my kind on sight but he does not.
Of course, he does not offer any sympathy either. He only nods, once. The understanding that has passed between us here is a mere turning cog in his calculations, with no meaning or righteousness to it.
“I’ve seen the same story a hundred times before,” he says. “A young man like yourself - clever, somewhat removed from the world. The kind that doesn’t go to parties, you might say. Who takes himself a little too seriously, perhaps. Takes things too far. Further than a man should allow a thing to go. That’s the story, isn’t it? You took things too far, and then you couldn’t take them back. And now they have you.”
Next. To Hooper’s dorm. Time to wrap up this little game once and for all.
I creep around the outside of the Huts. All are quiet, steel-grey in the hazy moonlight; a few shining copper from arc-lamps strung from the trees. A few guards patrol the area at night but not many - after all, very few know this place even exists.
Our quarters are arranged away from the House; where we sleep is of less importance than where we work. We each have our own Hut, through some are less permanent than other’s. Hooper’s is a military issue tent: quite a large canopy, with two rooms inside and a short porch area where he insists people leave their shoes. It’s all zipped up for the night and no light shines from inside.
I hang back for a moment. If Harris is keeping to the terms of our deal then someone will be watching this place. But I can see no-one.
“We’re still in ear-shot if they let Hooper go. Best get us inside and then we can talk, if we must.”
“I’ve had enough of your voice for one day,” Harris replies grimly. He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. I can only hope that Hooper bites on my baited hook. If he thinks I’m mad and bitter enough to have framed him somehow, and arrogant enough to have taunted him with a clue to where the damning evidence is hidden... if he hates me enough, and is paranoid enough, then he might unravel my little riddle and go searching around Hut 2.
Thinking back, I should have wrapped the part from the Bombe in one of his shirts before hiding it, that would have been a clever move. I really do make a terrible spy.
“This proves nothing,” I reply stubbornly. “You still don’t have the component and without it, I don’t see what you can hope to prove.”
“Be quiet, man. We know all about your and your sordid affairs.” The Captain curls his lip. “Don’t you know there’s a war on? Do you know the kind of place they would have sent you if it haven’t had been for that brain of yours? Don’t you think you owe it to your country to use it a little more?”
Do I, I wonder? Do I owe this country anything, this country that has spurned who and what am I since the day I became a man?
That is Harris returning. Our little computation here is complete.
That is the true secret of the calculating engine, and the source of its power: not in the components themselves, but in how they are wired together. The diversity of patterns and structures they can form. Much like people - it is how they connect that determines our victories and tragedies, and not their genius.
Which makes me wonder. Should I give up my beautiful young man to them as well as myself?
I cast around the small room. There’s a bucket in one corner for emergencies - I suppose I could use that. I pick it up but it’s not very easy to heft. And the noise would be terrible. There must be a way of making this easier. I’m supposed to be a thief now. What would a burglar do?
“I’m not trying to do anything except save my neck.”
“Let’s hope things work out,” Harris agrees darkly.
He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
“I saw Hooper take it.”
“I see.” He is starting to lose his temper - I can see it in the creases of his face. I have seen Harris angry a few times, with lackeys and secretaries and the like, usually over things sent late or incorrectly. But never with us. With the “brains” he has always been so cautious, treating us like children. And now I see that, like a father, he wants only to smack us when we disobey him. “I wish you’d stop with your deceptions and get to the truth, man. Every minute matters.”
“What could I do?” I’m shaking now. The night is cold and the heat-lamp in this hut has been removed, presumably to keep me alert and on edge. “I don’t want to go to prison.”
“You committed a crime,” Harris answers. If I had any sense that he understood my predicament, and that he felt for my state of being, it collapses like a chain with a broken link. “You thought you could repair it with another, more serious crime?” He shakes his head. “I thought you men were supposed to be clever. But this is the action of a frightened woman. So I’d like you to tell me, now. Where is it?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
I say nothing, my lips tightly, firmly sealed. It’s true I am a traitor, to the very laws of nature. The world has taught me that since a very early age. But not to my country - should the Reich win this war, I would hardly be treated as an honoured hero. I was doomed from the very start.
I explain none of this. How could a man like Harris understand?
The Commander takes one look back from the doorway as he pulls it to.
“It’s been a pleasure working with you, Mr Manning,” he declares. “You’ve done a great service to this country. If we come through, I’m sure they’ll remember you name. I’m sorry it had to end this way and I’ll do my best to keep it quiet. No-one need know what you did.”
Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
“You’re the one applying pressure here,” I answer smartly. “I’m just waiting until you tell me what is really going on.”
“It’s simple enough,” Harris replies. “I’ve seen the same story a hundred times before,” he says. “A young man like yourself - clever, somewhat removed from the world. The kind that doesn’t go to parties, you might say. Who takes himself a little too seriously, perhaps. Takes things too far. Further than a man should allow a thing to go. That’s the story, isn’t it? You took things too far, and then you couldn’t take them back. And now they have you.”
“Very well then.” I swallow nervously, to make it look more genuine. “No. I passed it on to Hooper.”
“I see. And what did he do with it?”
“I suppose so,” I reply. “I’ve certainly done things I regret. Things I shouldn’t have done.”
“I see,” Harris answers. “You’ve left yourself open. To pressure. Is that what you’re saying?”
I wait a few minutes, to be sure Hooper and the Captain will have gone, then try the door. It’s locked, all right. I’m not really one for picking locks. Never tried it. I don’t think I’ll be getting out that way.
I put my ear down to the keyhole, but there’s nothing now. Probably still a guard outside, of course, but they’re keeping mum.
It depends, perhaps, on what his name his worth. If it were to prove valuable, well; perhaps I can concoct a few more such lovers with which to ease my later days.
Hooper, perhaps. He wouldn’t like that.
Harris put the cuffs around my wrists. “I still have the intercept in my pocket,” I remark. “Wherever we’re going, could I have a pencil?”
He looks me in the eye.
“I’ll give you a stone to chisel notches in the wall. And that’s all the calculations you’ll be doing. And as you sit there, pissing into a bucket and growing a beard down to your toes, you have a think about how a smart man would conduct his illicit affairs. With a bit of due decorum you could have learnt off any squaddie. You scientists.” He drags me up to my feet. “You think you have to re-invent everything.”
With that, he hustles me out of the door and I can’t help thinking that, with a little more strategy, I could still have won the day. But too late now, of course.
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
“I’m sure I saw him this evening, talking to someone by the fence on the woodland side of the compound. He’s probably passed it on already. You’ll have to ask him.”
Harris harrumphs. He’s thinking it all over.
Quickly, I pull it free, and slip it into the pocket of my jacket.
Where now?
“I don’t think Hooper could have planned this in advance. So he’d need to get word to whoever he’s working with, and that would take time. So I think he would have hidden it somewhere, and be waiting to make sure I soundly take the fall. That way, if anything goes wrong, he can arrange for the part to be conveniently re-found.”
“Makes sense,” Harris agrees, cautiously. I can see he’s still not entirely convinced by my tale, as well he might not be - I’ve hardly been entirely straight with him. “Which means the question is, what can we do to rat him out?”
I nod. “I don’t need twelve minutes. The missing component of the Bombe computer is hidden in a small cavity in a breeze-block supporting the left rear post of Hut 2. I put in there anticipating a search. I intended to dispose of it once the fuss had died down. I suppose I was foolish to think that it might.”
“Indeed you were. And, Mr Manning: God help you if you’re lying to me.”
Harris stands, and slips away smartly. Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
“No, Harris. The young man wasn’t blackmailing me.” I take a deep breath. “It was Hooper.”
“Now look here,” Harris interrupts. “Don’t start that again.”
“It’s the truth, Harris. If I’m going to jail, then so be it, but I won’t hang at Traitor’s Gate. Hooper was the one who told the boy about our work. Hooper put the boy on to me. I should have realised, of course. These things don’t happen by chance. I was a fool to think they might. And then, once he had me compromised, he demanded I steal the part from the machine.”
“Which you did.” Harris leans forward. “And then what? You still have it? You put it somewhere?”
Moving quickly and quietly, I hoist myself up onto the window-frame and worm my way outside into the freezing night air. Then I’m away, slipping down the paths between the Huts, sticking to the shadows, on my way to Hut 2.
“Well, I’m glad his conscience finally caught up with him,” I reply dismissively.
“The Captain went back into that hut and he confessed immediately. We were so surprised we didn’t let you go.” He wrinkles his nose. “I’m rather sorry about that now, but I suppose we’ll let you go know. I suggest you have a wash.”
And with that he gestures to the doorway.
Let me see. There’s the bunk, a bucket, nothing else. I have my jacket but nothing in the pockets - no handkerchief, for instance.
I go over to the window and try to jimmy it open. Not much luck, but in my struggling I notice this window only backs on the thin little brook that runs down the back of the compound. Which means, if I smashed it, I might get away with no-one seeing.
The rest of the night passes slowly. I sleep a little, dozing mostly. Then I’m woken by the rooster in the yard. The door opens, and Harris comes in. He takes one look at the broken window and frowns with puzzlement.
“What happened there?”
From where he’s sitting, I know Hooper can see me, so I keep my head down and look guilty as sin. The bastard is probably smiling.
The Captain comes outside, pulling the door to. “What’s this?” he asks. “A confession? Just like that?”
“No,” the Commander admits, in a low voice. “I’m afraid not. Rather more a scheme. The idea is to let Hooper go and see what he does. If he believes we have Manning here in irons, he’ll try to shift the component.”
“If he has it.”
“Indeed.”
The Captain peers at me for a moment, like I was some kind of curious insect.
“Sometimes, I think you people are magicians,” he remarks. “Other times you seem more like witches. Very well.”
With that he opens the door to the Hut and goes back inside. The Commander uses the moment to hustle me roughly forward.
“This scheme of yours had better come off,” he hisses in my ear. “Otherwise the Captain is going to start having men tailing me to see where I go on Saturdays.”
With my jacket wrapped round my arm, I sweep out the remaining shards of glass. It’s not a big window, but I’m not a big man. If I was Harris, I’d be stuffed, but as it is...
Then the door locks turns. The door opens. Then Jeremy - one of the guards, rather - sticks his head through the door. “I thought I heard...”
He stops. Looks for a moment. Sees the bucket in my hand. Then without a moment’s further thought he blows his shrill whistles and hustles into the hut, grabbing me roughly by my arms.
I’m hustled into one of the huts. Nowhere to sleep, but they’re not interested in my comfort any longer. Harris comes in with the Captain.
“So,” Harris remarks. “Looks like your little trap worked. Only it worked to show you out for what you are.”
“You mean he confessed of his own accord? You didn’t catch him?”
“The Captain went back into that hut and he confessed immediately. We were so surprised we didn’t let you go.” He wrinkles his nose. “I’m rather sorry about that now, but I suppose we’ll let you go know. I suggest you have a wash.”
And with that he gestures to the doorway.
“No,” Harris declares, finally. “I think you’re lying about Hooper. I think you’re a clever, scheming young man - that’s why we hired you - and you’re looking for the only reasonable out this situation has to offer. But I’m not taking it. We know you were in the room with the machine, we know you’re of a perverted persuasion, we know you have compromised yourself. There’s nothing more to say here. Either you tell me what you’ve done with that component, or we will hang you and search just as hard. It’s your choice.”
He gets to his feet, and gathers his gloves from the table top.
“I’m going to go outside and organise a rope. That’ll take about twelve minutes. That’s how long you have to decide.”
“I don’t know what gives you the right to pick on me. Shouldn’t I have a lawyer?”
“This is time of war,” Harris answers. His tone of voice has fallen down into darkness. “And by God, if I have to shoot you to recover the component or stop it falling into the wrong hands, I will, do you understand me?”
There’s an icy silence. He’s angry. He waves an impetuous hand across the field table.
“Now, drink your tea and talk.”
The blanket. Perfect. I scoop it up off the bed and hold it in place over the window. This should do it. Then I heft the bucket - this really is quite a fiddly thing to be doing, and I need far longer arms, especially in cuffs - and take a strong swing, trying to imagine it’s Harris’ face on the other side.
The sound of the impact is muffled. With my arm still covered, I sweep out the remaining glass in the frame. I’m ready to escape. The only trouble is - when they look in on me in the morning, there will be no question what has happened. It won’t help me one jot with shifting suspicion off my back.
I have no God to make peace with. I find it difficult to believe in goodness of any kind, in a world such as this.
But I am no traitor. At least, not to my country. To my sex, perhaps. But how could I support the Reich? If it were to come to power, I would be worse off than under the already dire circumstances of my existence.
In truth, it is men like Harris who are complex, not men like me. I live to make things ordered, systematic. I like my pencils sharpened and lined up in a row. I do not deal in difficult borders, or uncertainties, or alliances. If I could, I would reduce the world to something easier to understand, something finite. But of course, I cannot, not even here, in this little micro-world, this safe haven from the horrors of the war.
I have no place here. No way to fit. I am the intercept - caught, in the middle, cryptic and understood only thinly, through devices and machines.
“I don’t know.”
“You can do better than that. Remember, there’s a hangman’s noose waiting for traitors.”
There is nothing I can do to speed up time. The night draws on at its own pace. I suppose by morning I will know my fate.
“I don’t know what gives you the right to pick on me. I demand a lawyer.”
“This is time of war,” Harris answers. His tone of voice has fallen down into darkness. “And by God, if I have to shoot you to recover the component or stop it falling into the wrong hands, I will, do you understand me?”
There’s an icy silence. He’s angry at my slippery answers. He waves an impetuous hand across the field table.
“Now, drink your tea and talk.”
“No, Harris. The young man wasn’t blackmailing me.” I take a deep breath. “It was Hooper.”
“Now look here,” Harris interrupts. “Don’t start that again.”
“It’s the truth, Harris. If I’m going to jail, then so be it, but I won’t hang at Traitor’s Gate. Hooper was the one who told the boy about our work. Hooper put the boy on to me. And then, once he had me compromised, he demanded I steal the part from the machine.”
“Which you did.” Harris leans forward. “And then what? You still have it? You put it somewhere?”
“Well, I’m glad his conscience finally caught up with him,” I reply dismissively.
“The Captain went back into that hut and he confessed immediately. We were so surprised we didn’t let you go.” He wrinkles his nose. “I’m rather sorry about that now, but I suppose we’ll let you go know. I suggest you have a wash.”
And with that he gestures to the doorway.
I pause a moment, trying to choose my words. To just come out and say it, after a lifetime of hiding... I wouldn’t know how. To put it into words, bluntly and directly: that is a circle I cannot square.
“I’ve done things,” I begin, uncomfortably. “I didn’t want to. I tried not to. But in the end, you understand. I had to. It felt like cutting off my own arm not to. Things I know I shouldn’t have. Things I perhaps regret.”
“I see,” Harris answers. “You’ve left yourself open. To pressure. Is that what you’re saying?”
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
“That’s not important now. What matters is what you do, this evening. All you have to do is go to the back of Hut 2. There’s a breeze-block with a cavity. That’s where I’ve put it. I’ll be locked up overnight, I should think. But you can pick it up and pass it to my contact. He’ll be at the south fence around two AM.”
“If you think I’ll do that then you’re crazy,” Hooper replies.
At that moment the door flies open and the Captain comes storming back inside.
Harris hustles me over to the barracks. “I hope that’s the end of it,” he mutters as he pushes me up the steps.
“Just be sure to let him out,” I reply. “And then see where he goes.”
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
Work carefully? It’s difficult to work carefully when all one’s has is a bucket. It’s rather like the sledgehammer for the proverbial nut.
“I’ve done nothing that I’m ashamed of.”
“Tell me, then,” he asks. “What’s your theory? You’re a smart fellow - as smart as they come around here, and that’s saying something. What’s your opinion on the missing component? Accident, perhaps? Or do you blame one of the other men?”
“I’m not saying anything of the sort,” I snap back. “What is this, Harris? You’re accusing me of treachery but I don’t see a shred of evidence for it! Why don’t you put your cards on the table?”
“It’s simple enough,” Harris replies. “I’ve seen the same story a hundred times before,” he says. “A young man like yourself - clever, somewhat removed from the world. The kind that doesn’t go to parties, you might say. Who takes himself a little too seriously, perhaps. Takes things too far. Further than a man should allow a thing to go. That’s the story, isn’t it? You took things too far, and then you couldn’t take them back. And now they have you.”
“You can’t do this!” I cry. “It’s murder! I demand a trial, a lawyer; for God’s sake, man, you can’t just throw me overboard, we’re not barbarians...!”
“You leave me no choice,” Harris snaps back, eyes cold as gun-metal. “You and your damn cyphers. Your damn clever problems. If men like you didn’t exist, if we could just all be straight with one another.” He gets to his feet and heads for the door. “I fear for the future of this world, with men like you in. Reich or no Reich, Mr Manning, people like you simply complicate matters.”
Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
“I know nothing about it.” My voice is shaking with anger as I try to speak. I’m not accustomed to facing off against the Commander - against any man with a gun in his holster. “I don’t know what gives you the right to pick on me. I demand a lawyer.”
“This is time of war,” Harris answers. His tone of voice has fallen down into darkness. “And by God, if I have to shoot you to recover the component or stop it falling into the wrong hands, I will, do you understand me?”
There’s an icy silence. He’s angry. He waves an impetuous hand across the field table.
“Now, drink your tea and talk.”
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
I have a single moment to shout something to Hooper before the door closes.
“I’ll get you Hooper, you’ll see!” I cry. Then:
“And the other men? Do we have a hut each? Surely there aren’t enough senior officers to go round.”
“Collins and Humph were outside when the theft occurred. Everyone confirms that,” Harris replies. “That leaves you, Hooper, and the other two, who vouch for each other and frankly I’m inclined to believe them. But that’s all we know. No-one here is in the business of guessing, you know that. Our business is to decode. To get to the bottom of whatever’s going on. You’ve not placed yourself beyond suspicion and until you do so...” Harris shrugs. “I’m afraid I have fewer and fewer choices as time goes on. If that component has left these grounds then every minute is critical.”
“No. I have no idea.”
He’s talking about the missing reel from the Bombe. Russell discovered it this afternoon when the machine began producing strange results. We were all in the Hut when it happened and it had been in place when we sat down to work. The conclusions had been obvious to all four of us immediately, but had gone undiscussed, even after the empty socket was located, the wiring torn on either side.
“Lucky these things are easy to replace,” Russell had remarked, and that had been that. We had stopped work, sent out for a new part to be machined. And drunk our tea and watched each other.
“Come now,” Harris says, quite the reasonable gent. “As I told you. We’re not interviewing everyone. Only you. So. I think you can be a little more forthcoming.”
“It will. Hooper’s running scared,” I reply, hoping I sound more confident than I feel.
“I think we’ve had enough drama today already,” Harris replies. “Let’s hope for a clean kill.”
He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
“I don’t know what gives you the right to pick on me. I demand a lawyer.”
“This is time of war,” Harris answers. His tone of voice has fallen down into darkness. “And by God, if I have to shoot you to recover the component or stop it falling into the wrong hands, I will, do you understand me?”
There’s an icy silence. He’s angry. He waves an impetuous hand across the field table.
“Now, drink your tea and talk.”
“No, I don’t. I’ve got work I should be doing tomorrow, and I need my rest...”
“Work that will be difficult for you to do, don’t you think?” Harris replies.
“They’ll have made a replacement by tomorrow,” I reply. “The war doesn’t stop over one missing reel.”
The reel went missing from the Bombe this afternoon. The four of us were in the Hut at the time, working on the latest intercept. It was Russell who noticed the machine producing strange results and found the gap in its plugboard. But as to who took it - it could have been any of us.
And indeed, it must have been. The machine had been functioning as normal when we began our calculations. And then, a short few hours later, it was gone. We had to stop. There was nothing more we could do until it was replaced. The part was vital, just as the machine was vital, and so were the contents of the message, still unread twenty four hours later.
“Let’s get straight to the point. Do you have the component?” Harris demands. “Do you know where it is?”
“Ask not for whom the bell tolls!”
He stares back at me, as if were a madman and perhaps for a split second I see him shudder.
The Captain comes outside, pulling the door to. “What’s this?” he asks. “A confession? Just like that?”
“No,” the Commander admits, in a low voice. “I’m afraid not. Rather more a scheme. The idea is to let Hooper go and see what he does. If he believes we have Manning here in irons, he’ll try to shift the component.”
“If he has it.”
“Indeed.”
The Captain peers at me for a moment, like I was some kind of curious insect.
“Sometimes, I think you people are magicians,” he remarks. “Other times you seem more like witches. Very well.”
With that he opens the door to the Hut and goes back inside. The Commander uses the moment to hustle me roughly forward.
“And what was all that shouting about?” he hisses in my ear as we move towards the barracks. “Are you trying to pull something? Or just make me look incompetent?”
“No, Harris. The young man wasn’t blackmailing me.” I take a deep breath. “It was Hooper.”
“Now look here,” Harris interrupts. “Don’t start that again.”
“It’s the truth, Harris. If I’m going to jail, then so be it, but I won’t hang at Traitor’s Gate. Hooper was the one who told the boy about our work. Hooper put the boy on to me. I should have realised, of course. These things don’t happen by chance. I was a fool to think they might. And then, once he had me compromised, he demanded I steal the part from the machine.”
“Which you did.” Harris leans forward. “And then what? You still have it? You put it somewhere?”
“He has? I knew he would. The worm.”
“Steady now. Matters aren’t over yet. There’s still the issue of the component. It hasn’t turned up. He didn’t lead us to it. I guess he figured you must have had something on him. I don’t know.”
He looks quite put out by the whole affair. He is not the kind of man to deal well with ambiguities and probabilities, far preferred the clarity of fact and falsehood.
After a chance like this? A chance - however real - to save my neck? To hand it over - what, to save Hooper’s worthless skin?
“I broke it,” I reply. There doesn’t seem any use in trying to lie. “I thought I could escape. But I couldn’t get myself through.”
The Commander laughs. “Shame,” he remarks. “I should have left that window open and put a guard on you. Might have been interesting to see where you went. Anyway, I’m glad you’re still here, even if you do smell like a dog.”
“I tell you, someone broke it. Someone wanted to threaten me, I think.”
Harris shakes his head. “Well, we can look into that matter later. For now, you probably want to hear the more pressing news. We found the missing component. Or rather, Hooper found it for us. He snuck out of his tent first thing in the morning and retrieved it from on top. Of all the damnest places - you would never have known it was there. He acted all surprised about it when we jumped him, of course, as you might expect - but it was good enough for me.”
I put my ear down to the keyhole, but there’s nothing now. Probably still a guard outside, of course, but they’re keeping mum.
“Very well. I see there’s no point in covering up. You know everything anyway.”
Harris nods, and waits for me to continue.
“There was a young man, Harris. I met him in the town. A few months ago now. We got to talking - not about work, you understand. I said I was an accountant for a firm, just as I was supposed to. Although he seemed to know that wasn’t true. That got me wondering if he wasn’t one of us.”
Harris is not letting me off any more. “You seriously considered that possibility?”
“No. Not for more than a moment, of course. Everyone here is marked out by how little we would be willing to say about it.”
“Only you told this young man more than a little, didn’t you?”
I nod. “He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
“What could I do?” I’m shaking now. The night is cold and the heat-lamp in this hut has been removed, presumably to keep me alert and on edge. “I don’t want to go to prison.”
“You committed a crime,” Harris answers. If I had any sense that he understood my predicament, and that he felt for my state of being, it collapses like a chain with a broken link. “You thought you could repair it with another, more serious crime?” He shakes his head. “I thought you men were supposed to be clever. But this is the action of a frightened woman. So I’d like you to tell me, now. Where is it?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
“Ask not for whom the bell tolls!”
He stares back at me, as if were a madman and perhaps for a split second I see him shudder.
The Captain comes outside, pulling the door to. “What’s this?” he asks. “A confession? Just like that?”
“No,” the Commander admits, in a low voice. “I’m afraid not. Rather more a scheme. The idea is to let Hooper go and see what he does. If he believes we have Manning here in irons, he’ll try to shift the component.”
“If he has it.”
“Indeed.”
The Captain peers at me for a moment, like I was some kind of curious insect.
“Sometimes, I think you people are magicians,” he remarks. “Other times you seem more like witches. Very well.”
With that he opens the door to the Hut and goes back inside. The Commander uses the moment to hustle me roughly forward.
“And what was all that shouting about?” he hisses in my ear as we move towards the barracks. “Are you trying to pull something? Or just make me look incompetent?”
Morning comes. I’m woken by a rooster calling from the yard behind the House. I must have slept after all. I pull myself up from the bunk, shivering slightly. There is condensation on the inside of the window. I have probably given myself a chill.
The door handle turns and without knocking, Harris comes inside. “You’re up,” he remarks, and then, “You smell like an animal.”
“I’m not sure. I was asleep: I woke up when someone broke the window. I looked out to see who it was, but they were already gone.”
Harris looks at me with puzzlement. “Someone came by to break the window, and then ran off? That’s absurd. That’s utterly absurd. Admit it, Manning. You tried to escape and you couldn’t get through.”
With my jacket wrapped round my arm, I sweep out the remaining shards of glass. It’s not a big window, but I’m not a big man. If I was Harris, I’d be stuffed, but as it is...
Then the door locks turns. The door opens. Then Jeremy - one of the guards, rather - sticks his head through the door. “I thought I heard...”
He stops. Looks for a moment. Sees the bucket in my hand. Then without a moment’s further thought he blows his shrill whistles and hustles into the hut, grabbing me roughly by my arms.
I’m hustled into one of the huts. Nowhere to sleep, but they’re not interested in my comfort any longer. Harris comes in with the Captain.
“So,” Harris remarks. “Looks like your little trap worked. Only it worked to show you out for what you are.”
“You treated me like vermin. Like something abhorrent.”
“You are something abhorrent.”
“I wasn’t. Not when I came here. And I won’t be, once you’re gone.”
I get to my feet and open the door of the Hut. The Captain storms back inside and I’m quickly thrown out. Harris hustles me over to the barracks. “I hope that’s the end of it,” he mutters as he pushes me up the steps.
“Just be sure to let him out,” I reply. “And then see where he goes.”
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. Thinking back, I should have wrapped the part from the Bombe in one of his shirts before hiding it, that would have been a clever move. I really do make a terrible spy.
“I’ll talk to him.”
“What?”
“Put me in with Hooper. Maybe I can get something useful out of him. As his colleague.”
Harris shakes his head. “He despises you, doesn’t he? I don’t see why he’d give himself up to you.”
I lift the cup to my lips and take a sip, trying to act natural. He watches as I do so.
“Lapsang Souchong,” he remarks, placing his own cup down on the table with a clink. “Such a curious flavour. It might almost not be tea at all. You might say it hides a multitude of sins. As do you, isn’t that correct?”
The bucket? Hardly. The bucket might do some good if I wanted to sweep up the glass afterwards, but it won’t help me smash the glass quietly.
“Really, Commander,” I reply. “It rather sounds like you want to spank me.”
“For God’s sake,” he declares with thick disgust, then swoops away out of the room. Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
“I know nothing about it.” My voice is shaking as I try to speak. I’m not accustomed to facing off against the Commander - against any man with a gun in his holster. “I don’t know what gives you the right to pick on me. Shouldn’t I have a lawyer?”
“This is time of war,” Harris answers. His tone of voice has fallen down into darkness. “And by God, if I have to shoot you to recover the component or stop it falling into the wrong hands, I will, do you understand me?”
There’s an icy silence. He’s angry at my slippery answers. He waves an impetuous hand across the field table.
“Now, drink your tea and talk.”
“I was quite certain, after a while. After we’d been talking. He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
“No.”
“Too bad.” Harris opens the door and pushes me inside. “Captain,” he calls. “Could I have a moment?”
The Captain, looking puzzled, steps out. The door is closed. Hooper stares at me, open-mouthed, about to say something. I probably have less than a minute before the Captain storms back in and declares this plan to be bunkum.
I put my ear down to the keyhole, but there’s nothing now. Probably still a guard outside, of course, but they’re keeping mum.
Enough of this place. Time for me to get moving. I can get to the train station on foot, catch the postal train to Scotland and be somewhere else before anyone realises that I’m gone.
Of course, then they’ll be looking for me in earnest. As a confirmed traitor.
“Yes. Something like that. It’s a very lonely life otherwise. And the work we do - well. It only makes it worse. There’s barely a moment to oneself.”
“That’s how it is in the Service,” Harris answers. “I know you didn’t sign up for it but, well. There’s plenty of other men who didn’t who are serving now, too. Now, go on with your confession.”
That gives me pause, for a moment. I hadn’t thought of it as such. But I suppose that’s what this is. I am about to admit what I did, after all.
“There’s not much else to say. I took the part from Bombe computing device. You seem to know that already. I had to. He was going to expose me if I didn’t.”
“This young man was blackmailing you over your affair?”
If I leave the component here somewhere it should be somewhere I can rely on Hooper finding it, but no-one before Hooper. In particular.
“I suppose I do rather.” I laugh, but Harris does not.
“This damn business gets worse and worse,” he says, talking as he goes over to unlock and throw open the window. “Hooper’s confessed, you know.”
“I’ve done nothing that I’m ashamed of.”
“Tell me, then,” he asks. “What’s your theory? You’re a smart fellow - as smart as they come around here, and that’s saying something. What’s your opinion on the missing component? Accident, perhaps? Or do you blame one of the other men?”
“I was quite certain, after a while. After we’d been talking. He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
“I’d be happy to help,” I answer, sympathetically, leaning forward across the table. “I’m sure there’s something I could do.”
“Like what, exactly?”
“Trust me. He hasn’t. If I know that man, and I do, he’ll have wanted to keep his options open as long as possible. If the component’s gone then he’s committed and he’ll be hung for what he’s done. He’ll want to wait a week at least, make sure he’s escaped suspicion. And then he’ll pass it on.”
“And if we keep applying pressure to him, you think the component will eventually just turn up?”
“Of course I do,” I answer.
The reel went missing from the Bombe this afternoon. The four of us were in the Hut at the time, working on the latest intercept. It was Russell who noticed the machine producing strange results and found the gap in its plugboard. But as to who took it - it could have been any of us.
And indeed, it must have been. The machine had been functioning as normal when we began our calculations. And then, a short few hours later, it was gone. We had to stop. There was nothing more we could do until it was replaced. The part was vital, just as the machine was vital, and so were the contents of the message, still unread twenty four hours later.
“Let’s get straight to the point. Do you have the component?” Harris demands. “Do you know where it is?”
With my jacket wrapped round my arm, I sweep out the remaining shards of glass. It’s not a big window, but I’m not a big man. If I was Harris, I’d be stuffed, but as it is...
Then the door locks turns. The door opens. Then Jeremy - one of the guards, rather - sticks his head through the door. “I thought I heard...”
He stops. Looks for a moment. Sees the broken window. Then without a moment’s further thought he blows his shrill whistles and hustles into the hut, grabbing me roughly by my arms.
I’m hustled into one of the huts. Nowhere to sleep, but they’re not interested in my comfort any longer. Harris comes in with the Captain.
“So,” Harris remarks. “Looks like your little trap worked. Only it worked to show you out for what you are.”
“And the other men? Do we have a hut each? Surely there aren’t enough senior officers to go round.”
“Collins and Humph were outside when the theft occurred. Everyone confirms that,” Harris replies. “That leaves you, Hooper, and the other two, who vouch for each other and frankly I’m inclined to believe them. But that’s all we know. No-one here is in the business of guessing, you know that. Our business is to decode. To get to the bottom of whatever’s going on. You’ve not placed yourself beyond suspicion and until you do so...” Harris shrugs. “I’m afraid I have fewer and fewer choices as time goes on. If that component has left these grounds then every minute is critical.”
If I leave the component here somewhere it should be somewhere I can rely on Hooper finding it, but no-one before Hooper. In particular.
I nod. “I don’t need twelve minutes. The missing component of the Bombe computer is hidden in a small cavity in a breeze-block supporting the left rear post of Hut 2. I put in there anticipating a search. I intended to pass it to Hooper once the fuss had died down. I suppose I was foolish to think that it might.”
“Indeed you were. And, Mr Manning: God help you if you’re lying to me.”
Harris stands, and slips away smartly. Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
Work carefully? It’s difficult to work carefully when all one’s has is a shoe.
“The component?”
“Yes,” Harris replies levelly. “The component that went missing this afternoon. I doubt that you’ve forgotten.”
He’s talking about the missing reel from the Bombe. Russell discovered it this afternoon when the machine began producing strange results. We were all in the Hut when it happened and it had been in place when we sat down to work. The conclusions had been obvious to all four of us immediately, but had gone undiscussed, even after the empty socket was located, the wiring torn on either side.
“Lucky these things are easy to replace,” Russell had remarked, and that had been that. We had stopped work, sent out for a new part to be machined. And drunk our tea and watched each other.
“Come now,” Harris says, quite the reasonable gent. “As I told you. We’re not interviewing everyone. Only you. So. I think you can be a little more forthcoming.”
“Yes, I considered it. He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
The bunk has a solid metal frame, a blanket, a pillow, nothing more.
I see. Perhaps you think I bullied the man into giving himself up. Perhaps he understood my little clue far enough to know it was a threat against him, but not well enough to understand where he should look to find it. So he took the easy route out and folded. Gave me the hand.
Hardly sporting, is that it?
I settle down to wait.
Night falls. The clockwork of the heavens keeps turning, whatever state I might be in. No-one can steal the components that make the sun go down and the stars come out. I watch it performing its operations. I can’t sleep.
Has Hooper taken my bait?
I suppose my fist would do a good enough job. But I’d cut myself to ribbons, most likely. And the noise would be terrible. There must be a way of making this easier. I’m supposed to be a thief now. What would a burglar do?
“The component?”
“Yes,” Harris replies levelly. “The component.”
“Well, as soon as it went missing the machine started to malfunction. We recognised the discrepancies in our results straight away...”
“Come now,” Harris says, quite the reasonable gent. “I think you can be a little more forthcoming.”
“Or be thrown into the river.”
“Hmm.” Harris chews his moustache thoughtfully. “Well, that would put us in a spot, seeing as how we’d never know for certain. We’d have to be ready to change our whole approach just in case the part had got through to the Germans. I don’t mind telling you, this is a disaster, this whole thing. What I want is to find that little bit of mechanical trickery anywhere. I don’t care where. In your luncheon box or under Hooper’s pillow, whatever. Just somewhere, and within the grounds of this place.”
“Trust me. He hasn’t. If I know that man, and I do, he’ll have wanted to keep his options open as long as possible. If the component’s gone then he’s committed and he’ll be hung for what he’s done. He’ll want to wait a week at least, make sure he’s escaped suspicion. And then he’ll pass it on.”
“And if we keep applying pressure to him, you think the component will eventually just turn up?”
“Of my genius. Hooper simply can’t stand that I’m cleverer than he is. We work so closely together, cooped up in that Hut all day. It drives him to distraction. To worse.”
“You’re suggesting Hooper would sabotage this country’s future simply to spite you?” Harris chooses his words like the military man he is, each lining up to create a ring around me.
“Please, Hooper. You don’t understand what’s at stake. They have information on me. What I’ve done. I don’t need to tell you what I’ve done, you know. I know you do. And I know you think it’s wrong, but please man, have a soul. They were going to ruin me. And the component - it’s nothing. It’s not the secret of the Bombe, or even of what we’re doing here. It’s just a part. The German’s think it’s a weapon - a missile component or a detonator. Let them have it! Please, man. Just help me.”
“Help you?” Hooper stares, as I have gone mad. “Help you? You’re a traitor, Iain. You’re a traitor. A snake in the grass. And you’re queer.”
I wait a few minutes, to be sure Hooper and the Captain will have gone, then try the door. It’s locked, all right. I’m not really one for picking locks. Never tried it. I don’t think I’ll be getting out that way.
“I am what I am,” I reply. “I’m the way nature made me. But they’re going to hang me unless you help me, Hooper. Don’t let them hang me.”
“Assuming I wanted to help you,” he replies, carefully. “Which I don’t. What would I do?”
“Nothing. Almost nothing.
All you have to do is go to the back of Hut 2. There’s a breeze-block with a cavity. That’s where I’ve put it. I’ll be locked up overnight, I should think. But you can pick it up and pass it to my contact. He’ll be at the south fence around two AM."
“If you think I’ll do that then you’re crazy,” Hooper replies.
At that moment the door flies open and the Captain comes storming back inside.
Harris hustles me over to the barracks. “I hope that’s the end of it,” he mutters as he pushes me up the steps.
“Just be sure to let him out,” I reply. “And then see where he goes.”
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
Work carefully? It’s difficult to work carefully when all one’s has is a bucket. It’s rather like the sledgehammer for the proverbial nut.
I pause a moment, trying to choose my words. To just come out and say it, after a lifetime of hiding... I wouldn’t know how. To put it into words, bluntly and directly: that is a circle I cannot square.
“I’ve done things,” I begin, uncomfortably. “I didn’t want to. I tried not to. But in the end, you understand. I had to. It felt like cutting off my own arm not to. Things I know I shouldn’t have. Things I perhaps regret.”
“I see,” Harris answers. “You’ve left yourself open. To pressure. Is that what you’re saying?”
I wait a few minutes, to be sure the Commander will have gone, then try the door. It’s locked, all right. I’m not really one for picking locks. Never tried it. I don’t think I’ll be getting out that way.
From outside, I hear a voice. Hooper’s. He’s haranguing someone, for something.
Let me see. There’s the bunk, a bucket, nothing else. I have my jacket but nothing in the pockets - no handkerchief, for instance.
“I’m looking forward to a long bath,” I reply. “And getting back to work.”
“Well, I’m afraid it is going to get worse for you,” Harris replies soberly. “We followed Hooper, and he took himself neatly to bed and slept like a boy scout. Which puts us back to square one, and you firmly in the frame. And I’m afraid I don’t have time for any more games. I want you to tell me where that component is, or we will hang you as a traitor.”
He passes a hand across his eyes with a long look of despair.
“I’m going to go outside and organise a rope. That’ll take about twelve minutes. That’s how long you have to decide.”
“What could I do?” I’m shaking now. The night is cold and the heat-lamp in this hut has been removed, presumably to keep me alert and on edge. “I don’t want to go to prison.”
“You committed a crime,” Harris answers. If I had any sense that he understood my predicament, and that he felt for my state of being, it collapses like a chain with a broken link. “You thought you could repair it with another, more serious crime?” He shakes his head. “I thought you men were supposed to be clever. But this is the action of a frightened woman. So I’d like you to tell me, now. Where is it?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
Moving quickly and quietly, I hoist myself up onto the window-frame and worm my way outside into the freezing night air. Then I’m away, slipping down the paths between the Huts, sticking to the shadows, on my way to Hut 2.
The bunk has a solid metal frame, a blanket, a pillow, nothing more.
The window is my only way out of here. I just need a way to smash it.
It’s no good. That’s only half a solution. I couldn’t be happy with that.
“Try me. Just me and him.”
“Alone?”
“Alone.”
Harris considers it. I watch his eyes, flicking backwards and forwards over mine, like a ribbon-reader trying to load in its program.
“I’m no traitor, damn it. You know I’m not. How much work have I done here? Against the Germans? Cracking their codes? Understanding their secrets? I’ve given it my all! And you know as well as I do, if the Reich were to invade, I would be a dead man for being what I am. So please, Hooper. I’m not doing any of this lightly. But I’m in a jam!”
“Assuming I wanted to help you,” he replies, carefully. “Which I don’t. What would I do?”
“Nothing. Almost nothing.
All you have to do is go to the back of Hut 2. There’s a breeze-block with a cavity. That’s where I’ve put it. I’ll be locked up overnight, I should think. But you can pick it up and pass it to my contact. He’ll be at the south fence around two AM."
“If you think I’ll do that then you’re crazy,” Hooper replies.
At that moment the door flies open and the Captain comes storming back inside.
Harris hustles me over to the barracks. “I hope that’s the end of it,” he mutters as he pushes me up the steps.
“Just be sure to let him out,” I reply. “And then see where he goes.”
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
I wait a few minutes, to be sure Hooper and the Captain will have gone, then try the door. It’s locked, all right. I’m not really one for picking locks. Never tried it. I don’t think I’ll be getting out that way.
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
I shake my head violently, to say no, that’s not it, but whatever is wrong with tongue is wrong with neck too. I look across at the table at Harris’ face and realise with a start how sympathetic he is. Such a kind, generous man. How can I hold anything back from him?
I take another mouthful of the bitter, strange-tasting tea before answering.
“That’s exactly it,” I say quietly. “Harris. You understand. There are some things... which can get a man into a lot of trouble. Things one shouldn’t do.”
Harris, to his credit, doesn’t stiffen. He doesn’t lean away, or remove his hands from the table-top as though my condition might be infectious. I thought they trained them in the army to shoot my kind on sight but he does not.
Of course, he does not offer any sympathy either. He only nods, once. The understanding that has passed between us here is a mere turning cog in his calculations, with no meaning or righteousness to it.
“I’ve seen the same story a hundred times before,” he says. “A young man like yourself - clever, somewhat removed from the world. The kind that doesn’t go to parties, you might say. Who takes himself a little too seriously, perhaps. Takes things too far. Further than a man should allow a thing to go. That’s the story, isn’t it? You took things too far, and then you couldn’t take them back. And now they have you.”
“Well, then,” I answer, nervously. “What would he do? Either get rid of it straight away - or if that wasn’t possible, which it probably wouldn’t be, since he’d have to arrange things with his contacts - so most likely, he’d hide it somewhere and wait, until you had the rope around my neck and he could be sure he was safe.”
“Makes sense,” Harris agrees, cautiously. I can see he’s still not entirely convinced by my tale, as well he might not be - I’ve hardly been entirely straight with him. “Which means the question is, what can we do to rat him out?”
I put my ear down to the keyhole, but there’s nothing now. Probably still a guard outside, of course, but they’re keeping mum.
“You’re right.” I shake my head. “You’re right. I don’t see how I can help you after all. So, there’s only one conclusion.”
“Oh, yes? And what’s that?”
“It’s your problem. Your security breach. So much for your careful vetting process.” I lean back in my chair and fold my arms so the way they shake will not be visible. “You’d better get on with solving it, instead of wasting your time in here with me.”
Harris harrumphs. He’s thinking it all over.
I slide the component into the tent, work the zip closed, and move quickly away into the shadows. It takes a few minutes for my breath to slow, and my heart to stop hammering, but I see no other movement. If anyone is watching Hooper’s tent, they are asleep at their posts.
Satisfied, I return the short way up the paths between the huts to the barrack block and the broken window.
It’s a little harder getting back through - the window is higher off the ground than the floor inside - but after a decent bit of jumping and hauling I manage to get my elbows up, and then one leg, and finally I collapse inside, quite winded and out breath.
I settle down to wait.
Night falls. The clockwork of the heavens keeps turning, whatever state I might be in. No-one can steal the components that make the sun go down and the stars come out. I watch it performing its operations. I can’t sleep.
Has Hooper taken my bait?
Moving quickly and quietly, I hoist myself up onto the window-frame and worm my way outside into the freezing night air. Then I’m away, slipping down the paths between the Huts, sticking to the shadows, on my way to Hut 2.
The weight of the Bombe component safely in my jacket, I return the short way up the paths between the huts to the barrack block and the broken window.
It’s a little harder getting back through - the window is higher off the ground than the floor inside - but after a decent bit of jumping and hauling I manage to get my elbows up, and then one leg, and finally I collapse inside, quite winded and out breath.
“No. Not for more than a moment, of course. Everyone here is marked out by how little we would be willing to say about it.”
“Only you told this young man more than a little, didn’t you?”
I nod. “He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
“For God’s sake, man, what do you have to lose?”
“We’ll be outside the door,” Harris replies, seriously. “The first sign of any funny business and we’ll have you both on the floor in minutes. You understand? The country needs your brain, but it’s not too worried about your legs. Remember that.”
Then he gets to his feet, and opens the door, and marches me out and across the yard. The evening is drawing in and there’s a chill in the air. My mind is racing. I have one opportunity here - a moment in which to put the fear of God into Hooper and make him do something foolish to place himself in harm’s way. But how to achieve it?
“You ready?” Harris demands.
“I am what I am,” I reply. “I’m the way nature made me. But they’re going to hang me unless you help me, Hooper. Don’t let them hang me.”
“Assuming I wanted to help you,” he replies, carefully. “Which I don’t. What would I do?”
“Nothing. Almost nothing.
All you have to do is go to the back of Hut 2. There’s a breeze-block with a cavity. That’s where I’ve put it. I’ll be locked up overnight, I should think. But you can pick it up and pass it to my contact. He’ll be at the south fence around two AM."
“If you think I’ll do that then you’re crazy,” Hooper replies.
At that moment the door flies open and the Captain comes storming back inside.
Harris hustles me over to the barracks. “I hope that’s the end of it,” he mutters as he pushes me up the steps.
“Just be sure to let him out,” I reply. “And then see where he goes.”
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
“I’ve thought so before.”
“Let me tell you what happened this morning. Our men watching Hooper’s tent saw Hooper wake up, get dressed, clamber out of his tent and then remark with surprise as, while looking for his shoes, he stumbled on something just at the entrance of his tent.”
Morning comes. I’m woken by a rooster calling from the yard behind the House. I must have slept after all. I pull myself up from the bunk, shivering slightly. There is condensation on the inside of the window. I have probably given myself a chill.
The door handle turns and without knocking, Harris comes inside. “You’re up,” he remarks, and then, “You smell like an animal.”
“Queen to rook two, checkmate!” I call, then laugh viciously, as if I am damning him straight to hell.
I only catch Hooper’s reaction for a moment - his eyebrow lifts in surprise and alarm. Good. If he thinks it is a threat then he just might be careless enough to go looking for what it might mean.
The Captain comes outside, pulling the door to. “What’s this?” he asks. “A confession? Just like that?”
“No,” the Commander admits, in a low voice. “I’m afraid not. Rather more a scheme. The idea is to let Hooper go and see what he does. If he believes we have Manning here in irons, he’ll try to shift the component.”
“If he has it.”
“Indeed.”
The Captain peers at me for a moment, like I was some kind of curious insect.
“Sometimes, I think you people are magicians,” he remarks. “Other times you seem more like witches. Very well.”
With that he opens the door to the Hut and goes back inside. The Commander uses the moment to hustle me roughly forward.
“And what was all that shouting about?” he hisses in my ear as we move towards the barracks. “Are you trying to pull something? Or just make me look incompetent?”
“Try me. Just me and him.”
“Alone?”
“Alone.”
Harris considers it. I watch his eyes, flicking backwards and forwards over mine, like a ribbon-reader trying to load in its program.
I fold my arms, intended firmly to say nothing. But somehow, watching Harris’ face, I cannot bring myself to do it. I want to confess. I want to tell him everything I can, to explain myself to him, to earn his forgiveness. The sensation is so strong my will is powerless in the face of it.
Something is wrong with me, I am sure of it. There is a strange, bitter flavour on my tongue. I taste it as words start to form.
“I’ve done things,” I begin, uncomfortably. “I didn’t want to. I tried not to. But in the end, you understand. I had to. It felt like cutting off my own arm not to. Things I know I shouldn’t have. Things I perhaps regret.”
“I see,” Harris answers. “You’ve left yourself open. To pressure. Is that what you’re saying?”
“At the moment when the machine halted, Peterson and Jefferies were by the work-table, Collins and Humph were out having a smoke. I was by the front of the machine checking over the dip-switches. Hooper was the only one around the back of the Bombe. No-one else could have done it.”
“That’s not quite the same as seeing him do it,” Harris remarks.
“No. Not for more than a moment, of course. Everyone here is marked out by how little we would be willing to say about it.”
“Only you told this young man more than a little, didn’t you?”
I nod. “He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
The bunk has a solid metal frame, a blanket, a pillow, nothing more.
“At the moment when the machine halted, Peterson and Jefferies were by the work-table, Collins and Humph were out having a smoke. I was by the front of the machine checking over the dip-switches. Hooper was the only one around the back of the Bombe. No-one else could have done it.”
“That’s not quite the same as seeing him do it,” Harris remarks.
I suppose my fist would do a good enough job. But I’d cut myself to ribbons, most likely. And the noise would be terrible. There must be a way of making this easier. I’m supposed to be a thief now. What would a burglar do?
“What could I do?” I’m shaking now. The night is cold and the heat-lamp in this hut has been removed, presumably to keep me alert and on edge. “I won’t go to prison.”
“You committed a crime,” Harris answers. If I had any sense that he understood my predicament, and that he felt for my state of being, it collapses like a chain with a broken link. “You thought you could repair it with another, more serious crime?” He shakes his head. “I thought you men were supposed to be clever. But this is the action of a frightened woman. So I’d like you to tell me, now. Where is it?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
“I climbed out of the window overnight,” I explain. “I went and got this from where it was hidden, and brought it back here.”
“This is all too far-fetched,” Harris says. “I’m glad to have this back, but I need to think.”
Getting to his feet, he nods once. “You’ll have to wait a little longer, I’m afraid, Manning.”
Then he steps out of the door, muttering to himself.
I look in through the door and catch Hooper’s expression. I had half expected him to be smiling be he isn’t. He looks shocked, almost hurt. “Iain,” he murmurs. “You couldn’t...”
The Captain comes outside, pulling the door to. “What’s this?” he asks. “A confession? Just like that?”
“No,” the Commander admits, in a low voice. “I’m afraid not. Rather more a scheme. The idea is to let Hooper go and see what he does. If he believes we have Manning here in irons, he’ll try to shift the component.”
“If he has it.”
“Indeed.”
The Captain peers at me for a moment, like I was some kind of curious insect.
“Sometimes, I think you people are magicians,” he remarks. “Other times you seem more like witches. Very well.”
With that he opens the door to the Hut and goes back inside. The Commander uses the moment to hustle me roughly forward.
“This scheme of yours had better come off,” he hisses in my ear. “Otherwise the Captain is going to start having men tailing me to see where I go on Saturdays.”
“Yes. Something like that. It’s a very lonely life otherwise. And the work we do - well. It only makes it worse. There’s barely a moment to oneself.”
“That’s how it is in the Service,” Harris answers. “I know you didn’t sign up for it but, well. There’s plenty of other men who didn’t who are serving now, too. Now, go on with your confession.”
That gives me pause, for a moment. I hadn’t thought of it as such. But I suppose that’s what this is. I am about to admit what I did, after all.
“There’s not much else to say. I took the part from Bombe computing device. You seem to know that already. I had to. He was going to expose me if I didn’t.”
“This young man was blackmailing you over your affair?”
“Oh, yes?”
“Yes. For what that’s worth. There’s still the issue of the component. It hasn’t turned up. He didn’t lead us to it. I guess he figured you must have had something on him. I don’t know.”
He looks quite put out by the whole affair. He is not the kind of man to deal well with ambiguities and probabilities, far preferred the clarity of fact and falsehood.
I have a single moment to shout something to Hooper before the door closes.
“I’ll get you Hooper, you’ll see!” I cry. Then:
“The Captain thought it was a good scheme. You’ll most likely get a promotion.”
“Let’s hope things work out,” Harris agrees darkly.
He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
“You mean he didn’t even hide it? Just put it in his shoe?”
“No,” Harris replies. “That isn’t really what I mean. I mean, he managed to find it, by accident, somewhere where it wasn’t the night before. And at the same time, you’re sitting here with your window broken. So, I rather think you’ve played your last hand and lost. There’s no way Hooper stole that component and then just left it lying around in the doorway of his tent. No way at all. So I came to tell you that the game is up for you.”
He nods and gets to his feet. Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
“Then I’ll be going, on and getting on with my job of saving her, shall I?” I even rise half to my feet, before he slams the tabletop.
“Talk,” Harris demands. “Talk, now. Tell me where you’ve hidden it or who you’ve passed it to. Or God help me, but I’ll take your wretched pansy body to pieces looking for it, do you understand me?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
There is nothing I can do to speed up time. The night draws on at its own pace. I suppose by morning I will know my fate.
“I don’t know what gives you the right to pick on me. Shouldn’t I have a lawyer?”
“This is time of war,” Harris answers. His tone of voice has fallen down into darkness. “And by God, if I have to shoot you to recover the component or stop it falling into the wrong hands, I will, do you understand me?”
There’s an icy silence. He’s angry. He waves an impetuous hand across the field table.
“Now, drink your tea and talk.”
Let me see. There’s the bunk, nothing else. I have my jacket but nothing in the pockets - no handkerchief, for instance.
“All right.” With a sigh, your defiance collapses."If you’re searched my things then I suppose you’ve found my letters. Haven’t you? In fact, if you haven’t, don’t tell me.
Harris nods once. “I’ve seen the same story a hundred times before,” he says. “A young man like yourself - clever, somewhat removed from the world. The kind that doesn’t go to parties, you might say. Who takes himself a little too seriously, perhaps. Takes things too far. Further than a man should allow a thing to go. That’s the story, isn’t it? You took things too far, and then you couldn’t take them back. And now they have you.”
“You can’t do this!” I cry. “It’s murder! I demand a trial, a lawyer; for God’s sake, man, you can’t just throw me overboard, we’re not barbarians...!”
“You leave me no choice,” Harris snaps back, eyes cold as gun-metal. “You and your damn cyphers. Your damn clever problems. If men like you didn’t exist, if we could just all be straight with one another.” He gets to his feet and heads for the door. “I fear for the future of this world, with men like you in. Reich or no Reich, Mr Manning, people like you simply complicate matters.”
Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
I say quiet, listening, not sure how this will go.
“In case I’m not making myself clear,” Harris continues, “I mean, he managed to find it, by accident, somewhere where it wasn’t the night before. And at the same time, you’re sitting here with your window broken. So, I rather think you’ve played your last hand and lost. There’s no way Hooper stole that component and then just left it lying around in the doorway of his tent. No way at all. So I came to tell you that the game is up for you.”
He nods and gets to his feet. Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
“No, Harris. The young man wasn’t blackmailing me.” I take a deep breath. “It was Hooper.”
“Now look here,” Harris interrupts. “Don’t start that again.”
“It’s the truth, Harris. If I’m going to jail, then so be it, but I won’t hang at Traitor’s Gate. Hooper was the one who told the boy about our work. Hooper put the boy on to me. And then, once he had me compromised, he demanded I steal the part from the machine.”
“Which you did.” Harris leans forward. “And then what? You still have it? You put it somewhere?”
“I don’t think Hooper could have planned this in advance. So he’d need to get word to whoever he’s working with, and that would take time. So I think he would have hidden it somewhere, and be waiting to make sure I soundly take the fall. That way, if anything goes wrong, he can arrange for the part to be conveniently re-found.”
“Makes sense,” Harris agrees, cautiously. I can see he’s still not entirely convinced by my tale, as well he might not be - I’ve hardly been entirely straight with him. “Which means the question is, what can we do to rat him out?”
“No. I have no idea.”
He’s talking about the missing reel from the Bombe. Russell discovered it this afternoon when the machine began producing strange results. We were all in the Hut when it happened and it had been in place when we sat down to work. The conclusions had been obvious to all four of us immediately, but had gone undiscussed, even after the empty socket was located, the wiring torn on either side.
“Lucky these things are easy to replace,” Russell had remarked, and that had been that. We had stopped work, sent out for a new part to be machined. And drunk our tea and watched each other.
“Come now,” Harris says, quite the reasonable gent. “As I told you. We’re not interviewing everyone. Only you. So. I think you can be a little more forthcoming.”
“No. Not for more than a moment, of course. Everyone here is marked out by how little we would be willing to say about it.”
“Only you told this young man more than a little, didn’t you?”
I nod. “He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
I pat down my pockets but all I’m carrying is the intercept, which is no good at all.
“It’s not that bad. I can still fix it.”
Harris shakes his head. “This isn’t a problem to be cracked. This isn’t a puzzle. I’m sorry, but this is bigger than you now. Look. You can go to prison for what you’ve done, or we can change your identity and move you somewhere where your... indiscretions... can’t hurt anyone any more. But right now none of that matters. What happens to you, doesn’t matter. All that matters is where that component is. So I’d like you to tell me, now. Where is it?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
“Trust me. He hasn’t. If I know that man, and I do, he’ll have wanted to keep his options open as long as possible. If the component’s gone then he’s committed and he’ll be hung for what he’s done. He’ll want to wait a week at least, make sure he’s escaped suspicion. And then he’ll pass it on.”
“And if we keep applying pressure to him, you think the component will eventually just turn up?”
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
“You treated me like vermin. Like something abhorrent.”
“You are something abhorrent.”
“I wasn’t. Not when I came here. And I won’t be, once you’re gone.”
I get to my feet and open the door of the Hut. The Captain storms back inside and I’m quickly thrown out. Harris hustles me over to the barracks. “I hope that’s the end of it,” he mutters as he pushes me up the steps.
“Just be sure to let him out,” I reply. “And then see where he goes.”
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. Thinking back, I should have wrapped the part from the Bombe in one of his shirts before hiding it, that would have been a clever move. I really do make a terrible spy.
“No. I passed it on to Hooper.”
“I see. And what did he do with it?”
“I know where it is.”
Harris stares back at me. He cannot have expected it to be so easy to break me.
“I see.” There’s a long pause, like the endless delay between feeding in a line of cypher to the Bombe and waiting for its valves and cylinders to heat up enough to being processing. “Would you like to explain?”
After a chance like this? A chance - however real - to save my neck? To hand it over - what, to save Hooper’s worthless skin?
The rest of the night passes slowly. I sleep a little, dozing mostly. Then I’m woken by the rooster in the yard. The door opens, and Harris comes in. He takes one look at the broken window and frowns with puzzlement.
“What happened there?”
“That’s exactly it,” I say quietly. “Harris. You understand. There are some things... which can get a man into a lot of trouble. Things one shouldn’t do.”
Harris, to his credit, doesn’t stiffen. He doesn’t lean away, or remove his hands from the table-top as though my condition might be infectious. I thought they trained them in the army to shoot my kind on sight but he does not.
Of course, he does not offer any sympathy either. He only nods, once. The understanding that has passed between us here is a mere turning cog in his calculations, with no meaning or righteousness to it.
“I’ve seen the same story a hundred times before,” he says. “A young man like yourself - clever, somewhat removed from the world. The kind that doesn’t go to parties, you might say. Who takes himself a little too seriously, perhaps. Takes things too far. Further than a man should allow a thing to go. That’s the story, isn’t it? You took things too far, and then you couldn’t take them back. And now they have you.”
I nod. “I don’t need twelve minutes. The missing component of the Bombe computer is hidden in a small cavity in a breeze-block supporting the left rear post of Hut 2. I put in there anticipating a search. I intended to dispose of it once the fuss had died down. I suppose I was foolish to think that it might.”
“Indeed you were. And, Mr Manning: God help you if you’re lying to me.”
Harris stands, and slips away smartly. Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
I shake my head violently, to say no, that’s not it, but whatever is wrong with tongue is wrong with neck too. I look across at the table at Harris’ face and realise with a start how sympathetic he is. Such a kind, generous man. How can I hold anything back from him?
I take another mouthful of the bitter, strange-tasting tea before answering.
“That’s exactly it,” I say quietly. “Harris. You understand. There are some things... which can get a man into a lot of trouble. Things one shouldn’t do.”
Harris, to his credit, doesn’t stiffen. He doesn’t lean away, or remove his hands from the table-top as though my condition might be infectious. I thought they trained them in the army to shoot my kind on sight but he does not.
Of course, he does not offer any sympathy either. He only nods, once. The understanding that has passed between us here is a mere turning cog in his calculations, with no meaning or righteousness to it.
“I’ve seen the same story a hundred times before,” he says. “A young man like yourself - clever, somewhat removed from the world. The kind that doesn’t go to parties, you might say. Who takes himself a little too seriously, perhaps. Takes things too far. Further than a man should allow a thing to go. That’s the story, isn’t it? You took things too far, and then you couldn’t take them back. And now they have you.”
“Perhaps Hooper had an accomplice. Someone else who works on site.”
Harris shakes his head, distractedly. “That doesn’t make sense,” he says. “Why go to all the trouble of stealing it only to give it back? And why like this?”
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
“You’re right.” I shake my head. “You’re right. I don’t see how I can help you after all. So, there’s only one conclusion.”
“Oh, yes? And what’s that?”
“It’s your problem. Your security breach. So much for your careful vetting process.” I lean back in my chair and fold my arms so the way they shake will not be visible. “You’d better get on with solving it, instead of wasting your time in here with me.”
Harris harrumphs. He’s thinking it all over.
I have a single moment to shout something to Hooper before the door closes.
“I’ll get you Hooper, you’ll see!” I cry. Then:
“I don’t know.”
“You can do better than that. Remember, there’s a hangman’s noose waiting for traitors.”
“Maybe I can help with that.”
“Oh, yes? And how, exactly?”
“I’ve thought so before.”
“Let me tell you what happened this morning. Our men watching Hooper’s tent saw Hooper wake up, get dressed, clamber out of his tent and then remark with surprise as, while looking for his shoes, he stumbled on something just at the entrance of his tent.”
“I don’t know what gives you the right to pick on me. Shouldn’t I have a lawyer?”
“This is time of war,” Harris answers. His tone of voice has fallen down into darkness. “And by God, if I have to shoot you to recover the component or stop it falling into the wrong hands, I will, do you understand me?”
There’s an icy silence. He’s angry at my slippery answers. He waves an impetuous hand across the field table.
“Now, drink your tea and talk.”
“Now steady on,” I reply, gesturing for him to calm himself.
“Talk,” Harris demands. “Talk, now. Tell me where you’ve hidden it or who you’ve passed it to. Or God help me, but I’ll take your wretched pansy body to pieces looking for it, do you understand me?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
“Of my standing. My reputation.” I’m aware of how arrogant I must sound but I plough on all the same. “Hooper simply can’t bear knowing that, once all this is over, I’ll be the one receiving the knighthood and he...”
“No-one will be getting a knighthood if the Germans invade,” Harris answers sharply. He casts a quick eye to the door of the Hut to check the latch is still down, then continues in more of a murmur: “Not you and not Hooper. Now answer me.” For the first time since the door closed, I wonder what the threat might be if I do not.
“Let’s get straight to the point. Do you have the component?” Harris demands. “Do you know where it is?”
I creep forward to the tent, intent on lifting the zip to the front porch area just a little - enough to slip the component inside, and without the risk of the noise waking Hooper from his snoring.
The work is careful, and more than little fiddly - Hooper has tied the zips down on the inside, the fastidious little bastard! - but after a little work I manage to make a hole large enough for my hand.
“Tell Hooper I’ve confessed. In fact, better yet, let him see you march me off in handcuffs. Then let him go, and watch him. Ten to one he’ll go straight to wherever he’s hidden that component and his game will be up.”
Harris nods slowly, chewing over the idea. It isn’t a bad plan even - except, of course, Hooper has not hidden the component, and won’t lead them anywhere. But that’s a problem I might be able to solve once I’m out of this place; and once they’re busy, dogging Hooper’s steps from hut to hut.
“It’s an interesting idea,” the Commander muses. “But I’m not so sure he’ll be that stupid. And if he’s already passed the part on, well, the whole thing will only be a waste of time.”
“I don’t know.”
“You can do better than that. Remember, there’s a hangman’s noose waiting for traitors.”
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
“No. I passed it on to Hooper.”
“I see. And what did he do with it?”
I put my ear down to the keyhole, but there’s nothing now. Probably still a guard outside, of course, but they’re keeping mum.
“All right. All right. That’s exactly what happened.”
“Shame,” he remarks. “I should have left that window open and put a guard on you. Might have been interesting to see where you went. Anyway, I’m glad you’re still here, even if you do smell like a dog.”
There is nothing I can do to speed up time. The night draws on at its own pace. I suppose by morning I will know my fate.
“Yes, I considered it. He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
Then pause. This is too transparent. Too blatant. If I leave it here, like this, Hooper will never be seen to go looking for it: he will stumble over it in plain sight, and the men watching will wonder why it was not there when he went to bed.
No, I must try something else - or nothing at all.
“No, I don’t. I’ve got work I should be doing tomorrow, and I need my rest...”
“Work that will be difficult for you to do, don’t you think?” Harris replies.
“They’ll have made a replacement by tomorrow,” I reply. “The war doesn’t stop over one missing reel.”
The reel went missing from the Bombe this afternoon. The four of us were in the Hut at the time, working on the latest intercept. It was Russell who noticed the machine producing strange results and found the gap in its plugboard. But as to who took it - it could have been any of us.
And indeed, it must have been. The machine had been functioning as normal when we began our calculations. And then, a short few hours later, it was gone. We had to stop. There was nothing more we could do until it was replaced. The part was vital, just as the machine was vital, and so were the contents of the message, still unread twenty four hours later.
“Let’s get straight to the point. Do you have the component?” Harris demands. “Do you know where it is?”
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
The blanket. Perfect. I scoop it up off the bed and hold it in place over the window. This should do it. Then I heft back my arm, and take a strong swing, trying to imagine it’s Harris’ face on the other side.
The sound of the impact is muffled. With my arm still covered, I sweep out the remaining glass in the frame. I’m ready to escape. The only trouble is - when they look in on me in the morning, there will be no question what has happened. It won’t help me one jot with shifting suspicion off my back.
“Listen to me, Hooper. We were the only men in that hut today, so we know what happened. But I want you to know this. I put the component inside a breeze-block in the foundations of Hut 2, wrapped in one of your shirts. They’re going to find it eventually, and that’s going to be what tips the balance. And there’s nothing you can do to stop any of that from happening.”
His eyes bulge with terror. “What did I do, to you? What did I ever do?”
“Trust me. He hasn’t. If I know that man, and I do, he’ll have wanted to keep his options open as long as possible. If the component’s gone then he’s committed and he’ll be hung for what he’s done. He’ll want to wait a week at least, make sure he’s escaped suspicion. And then he’ll pass it on.”
“And if we keep applying pressure to him, you think the component will eventually just turn up?”
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
“The component?”
“Yes,” Harris replies levelly. “The component that went missing this afternoon. I doubt that you’ve forgotten.”
He’s talking about the missing reel from the Bombe. Russell discovered it this afternoon when the machine began producing strange results. We were all in the Hut when it happened and it had been in place when we sat down to work. The conclusions had been obvious to all four of us immediately, but had gone undiscussed, even after the empty socket was located, the wiring torn on either side.
“Lucky these things are easy to replace,” Russell had remarked, and that had been that. We had stopped work, sent out for a new part to be machined. And drunk our tea and watched each other.
“Come now,” Harris says, quite the reasonable gent. “As I told you. We’re not interviewing everyone. Only you. So. I think you can be a little more forthcoming.”
“You’re right.” I shake my head. “You’re right. I don’t see how I can help you after all. So, there’s only one conclusion.”
“Oh, yes? And what’s that?”
“It’s your problem. Your security breach. So much for your careful vetting process.” I lean back in my chair and fold my arms so the way they shake will not be visible. “You’d better get on with solving it, instead of wasting your time in here with me.”
Harris harrumphs. He’s thinking it all over.
I say quiet, listening, not sure how this will go.
“In case I’m not making myself clear,” Harris continues, “I mean, he managed to find it, by accident, somewhere where it wasn’t the night before. And at the same time, you’re sitting here with your window broken. So, I rather think you’ve played your last hand and lost. There’s no way Hooper stole that component and then just left it lying around in the doorway of his tent. No way at all. So I came to tell you that the game is up for you.”
He nods and gets to his feet. Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
“Of my genius. Hooper simply can’t stand that I’m cleverer than he is. We work so closely together, cooped up in that Hut all day. It drives him to distraction. To worse.”
“You’re suggesting Hooper would sabotage this country’s future simply to spite you?” Harris chooses his words like the military man he is, each lining up to create a ring around me.
I go over to the window and try to jimmy it open. Not much luck, but in my struggling I notice this window only backs on the thin little brook that runs down the back of the compound. Which means, if I smashed it, I might get away with no-one seeing.
“No. I have no idea.”
He’s talking about the missing reel from the Bombe. Russell discovered it this afternoon when the machine began producing strange results. We were all in the Hut when it happened and it had been in place when we sat down to work. The conclusions had been obvious to all four of us immediately, but had gone undiscussed, even after the empty socket was located, the wiring torn on either side.
“Lucky these things are easy to replace,” Russell had remarked, and that had been that. We had stopped work, sent out for a new part to be machined. And drunk our tea and watched each other.
“Come now,” Harris says, quite the reasonable gent. “As I told you. We’re not interviewing everyone. Only you. So. I think you can be a little more forthcoming.”
That is Harris returning. Our little computation here is complete. I only hope one of the others will be able to explain to him that the part I stole will mean nothing to the Germans.
That is the true secret of the calculating engine, and the source of its power: not in the components themselves, but in how they are wired together. The diversity of patterns and structures they can form. Much like people - it is how they connect that determines our victories and tragedies, and not their genius.
Which makes me wonder. Should I give the young man who put me in this spot to them as well as myself?
The window is my only way out of here. I just need a way to smash it.
“Yes, I considered it. He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
“Well, then,” I answer, nervously. “What would he do? Either get rid of it straight away - or if that wasn’t possible, which it probably wouldn’t be, since he’d have to arrange things with his contacts - so most likely, he’d hide it somewhere and wait, until you had the rope around my neck and he could be sure he was safe.”
“Makes sense,” Harris agrees, cautiously. I can see he’s still not certain whether he can trust me. “Which means the question is, what can we do to rat him out?”
“It’s not that bad. I can still fix it.”
Harris shakes his head. “This isn’t a problem to be cracked. This isn’t a puzzle. I’m sorry, but this is bigger than you now. Look. You can go to prison for what you’ve done, or we can change your identity and move you somewhere where your... indiscretions... can’t hurt anyone any more. But right now none of that matters. What happens to you, doesn’t matter. All that matters is where that component is. So I’d like you to tell me, now. Where is it?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
“Messy, without one missing cache!” I cry, laughing spitefully. It isn’t the best clue, hardly worthy of the Times, but it will have to do.
I only catch Hooper’s reaction for a moment - his eyebrow lifts in surprise and alarm. Good. If he thinks it is a threat then he just might be careless enough to go looking for what it might mean.
The Captain comes outside, pulling the door to. “What’s this?” he asks. “A confession? Just like that?”
“No,” the Commander admits, in a low voice. “I’m afraid not. Rather more a scheme. The idea is to let Hooper go and see what he does. If he believes we have Manning here in irons, he’ll try to shift the component.”
“If he has it.”
“Indeed.”
The Captain peers at me for a moment, like I was some kind of curious insect.
“Sometimes, I think you people are magicians,” he remarks. “Other times you seem more like witches. Very well.”
With that he opens the door to the Hut and goes back inside. The Commander uses the moment to hustle me roughly forward.
“And what was all that shouting about?” he hisses in my ear as we move towards the barracks. “Are you trying to pull something? Or just make me look incompetent?”
I creep forward to the tent, intent on lifting the zip to the front porch area just a little - enough to slip the component inside, and without the risk of the noise waking Hooper from his snoring.
The work is careful, and more than little fiddly - Hooper has tied the zips down on the inside, the fastidious little bastard! - but after a little work I manage to make a hole large enough for my hand.
Let me see. There’s the bunk, a bucket, nothing else. I have my jacket but nothing in the pockets - no handkerchief, for instance.
Work carefully? It’s difficult to work carefully when all one’s has is a bucket. It’s rather like the sledgehammer for the proverbial nut.
“I don’t know what gives you the right to pick on me. Shouldn’t I have a lawyer?”
“This is time of war,” Harris answers. His tone of voice has fallen down into darkness. “And by God, if I have to shoot you to recover the component or stop it falling into the wrong hands, I will, do you understand me?”
There’s an icy silence. He’s angry. He waves an impetuous hand across the field table.
“Now, drink your tea and talk.”
“If I wanted to escape, I would have made damn sure that I could,” I tell him sternly.
“Well, I’m afraid it is going to get worse for you,” Harris replies soberly. “We followed Hooper, and he took himself neatly to bed and slept like a boy scout. Which puts us back to square one, and you firmly in the frame. And I’m afraid I don’t have time for any more games. I want you to tell me where that component is, or we will hang you as a traitor.”
He passes a hand across his eyes with a long look of despair.
“I’m going to go outside and organise a rope. That’ll take about twelve minutes. That’s how long you have to decide.”
“The component?”
“Yes,” Harris replies levelly. “The component that went missing this afternoon. I doubt that you’ve forgotten.”
He’s talking about the missing reel from the Bombe. Russell discovered it this afternoon when the machine began producing strange results. We were all in the Hut when it happened and it had been in place when we sat down to work. The conclusions had been obvious to all four of us immediately, but had gone undiscussed, even after the empty socket was located, the wiring torn on either side.
“Lucky these things are easy to replace,” Russell had remarked, and that had been that. We had stopped work, sent out for a new part to be machined. And drunk our tea and watched each other.
“Come now,” Harris says, quite the reasonable gent. “As I told you. We’re not interviewing everyone. Only you. So. I think you can be a little more forthcoming.”
“An accident, naturally.” I risk a smile. “That damned machine, Harris; it’s made from spare parts and string. Even these huts leak when it rains. It wouldn’t take more than one fellow to trip over a cable to shake out a component and have it roll away across the floor. Have you tried looking under the thing?”
Harris doesn’t smile. “Do you suppose we haven’t? Do you supposed we haven’t combed every inch of this place already?”
In a sudden moment I understand that his reply is a threat.
“Now,” he continues. “Are you sure there isn’t anything you want to tell me?”
Plenty of time for that later. If there is nothing there, then Hooper discovered the component after all and Harris’ men will have swooped on him, and the story about his confession is just a ruse to test me out. And if the component is still there - well. It will be just as valuable to my young man in the village in a week’s time, and his deadline of the 31st is not quite upon us.
I head for my dorm, intent on a bath, breakfast, a glance at the crossword before the other men get to it, and then on with work. They should have replaced the component in the Bombe by now. We will be back to it, only a day behind.
And everything will proceed as before. The component will mean nothing to the Germans - this is the one fact I could never have explained to a man like Harris despite the fact that the principle behind the Bombe is the same as the principle behind an army. The individual pieces - the men, the components - do not matter. They are quite identical. It is how they are arranged that counts. The structures and patterns that they form.
I bump into Russell in the dorm hut. “Did you hear?” he whispers. “Terrible news about Hooper. Absolutely terrible.”
There is nothing I can do to speed up time. The night draws on at its own pace. I suppose by morning I will know my fate.
I shake my head violently, to say no, that’s not it, but whatever is wrong with tongue is wrong with neck too. I look across at the table at Harris’ face and realise with a start how sympathetic he is. Such a kind, generous man. How can I hold anything back from him?
I take another mouthful of the bitter, strange-tasting tea before answering.
“That’s exactly it,” I say quietly. “Harris. You understand. There are some things... which can get a man into a lot of trouble. Things one shouldn’t do.”
Harris, to his credit, doesn’t stiffen. He doesn’t lean away, or remove his hands from the table-top as though my condition might be infectious. I thought they trained them in the army to shoot my kind on sight but he does not.
Of course, he does not offer any sympathy either. He only nods, once. The understanding that has passed between us here is a mere turning cog in his calculations, with no meaning or righteousness to it.
“I’ve seen the same story a hundred times before,” he says. “A young man like yourself - clever, somewhat removed from the world. The kind that doesn’t go to parties, you might say. Who takes himself a little too seriously, perhaps. Takes things too far. Further than a man should allow a thing to go. That’s the story, isn’t it? You took things too far, and then you couldn’t take them back. And now they have you.”
I slide the component into the tent, work the zip closed, and move quickly away into the shadows. It takes a few minutes for my breath to slow, and my heart to stop hammering, but I see no other movement. If anyone is watching Hooper’s tent, they are asleep at their posts.
Satisfied, I return the short way up the paths between the huts to the barrack block and the broken window.
It’s a little harder getting back through - the window is higher off the ground than the floor inside - but after a decent bit of jumping and hauling I manage to get my elbows up, and then one leg, and finally I collapse inside, quite winded and out breath.
“I was quite certain, after a while. After we’d been talking. He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
“I’ve done nothing that I’m ashamed of.”
“Tell me, then,” he asks. “What’s your theory? You’re a smart fellow - as smart as they come around here, and that’s saying something. What’s your opinion on the missing component? Accident, perhaps? Or do you blame one of the other men? Hooper?”
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
“I don’t think Hooper could have planned this in advance. So he’d need to get word to whoever he’s working with, and that would take time. So I think he would have hidden it somewhere, and be waiting to make sure I soundly take the fall. That way, if anything goes wrong, he can arrange for the part to be conveniently re-found.”
“Makes sense,” Harris agrees, cautiously. I can see he’s still not certain whether he can trust me. “Which means the question is, what can we do to rat him out?”
“How should I know?” I reply, defensively. “All I can say is, ever since I arrived here, he’s been looking to ways to bring me down a peg. I wouldn’t be surprised if he set this whole affair up just to have me court-martialled.”
“We don’t court-martial civilians,” Harris replies. “Traitors are simply hung at her Majesty’s pleasure.”
“Yes. I didn’t have long, but I had long enough. The missing component of the Bombe computer is hidden in a small cavity in a breeze-block supporting the left rear post of Hut 2. I put in there anticipating a search. I intended to pass it to Hooper once the fuss had died down. I suppose I was foolish to think that it might.”
“Indeed you were. And, Mr Manning: God help you if you’re lying to me.”
Harris stands, and slips away smartly. Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
There is nothing I can do to speed up time. The night draws on at its own pace. I suppose by morning I will know my fate.
“Of my standing. My reputation.” I’m aware of how arrogant I must sound but I plough on all the same. “Hooper simply can’t bear knowing that, once all this is over, I’ll be the one receiving the knighthood and he...”
“No-one will be getting a knighthood if the Germans invade,” Harris answers sharply. He casts a quick eye to the door of the Hut to check the latch is still down, then continues in more of a murmur: “Not you and not Hooper. Now answer me.” For the first time since the door closed, I wonder what the threat might be if I do not.
“Let’s get straight to the point. Do you have the component?” Harris demands. “Do you know where it is?”
“All right,” he declares, gruffly. “We’ll try it. But if this doesn’t work, I might just put the both of you in front of a firing squad and be done with these games. Worse things happen in time of war, you know.”
“Alone,” I add.
“Alone?”
“Alone.”
Harris considers it. I watch his eyes, flicking backwards and forwards over mine, like a ribbon-reader trying to load in its program.
I wait a few minutes, to be sure Hooper and the Captain will have gone, then try the door. It’s locked, all right. I’m not really one for picking locks. Never tried it. I don’t think I’ll be getting out that way.
“You mean he didn’t even hide it? Just put it in his shoe?”
“No,” Harris replies. “That isn’t really what I mean. I mean, he managed to find it, by accident, somewhere where it wasn’t the night before. And at the same time, you’re sitting here with your window broken. So, I rather think you’ve played your last hand and lost. There’s no way Hooper stole that component and then just left it lying around in the doorway of his tent. No way at all. So I came to tell you that the game is up for you.”
He nods and gets to his feet. Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
The bucket? Hardly. The bucket might do some good if I wanted to sweep up the glass afterwards, but it won’t help me smash the glass quietly.
I go over to the window and try to jimmy it open. Not much luck, but in my struggling I notice this window only backs on the thin little brook that runs down the back of the compound. Which means, if I smashed it, I might get away with no-one seeing.
The blanket. Perfect. I scoop it up off the bed and hold it in place over the window. This should do it. Then I heft the bucket - this really is quite a fiddly thing to be doing, and I need far longer arms, especially in cuffs - and take a strong swing, trying to imagine it’s Harris’ face on the other side.
The sound of the impact is muffled. With my arm still covered, I sweep out the remaining glass in the frame. I’m ready to escape. The only trouble is - when they look in on me in the morning, there will be no question what has happened. It won’t help me one jot with shifting suspicion off my back.
“I don’t know what gives you the right to pick on me. I demand a lawyer.”
“This is time of war,” Harris answers. His tone of voice has fallen down into darkness. “And by God, if I have to shoot you to recover the component or stop it falling into the wrong hands, I will, do you understand me?”
There’s an icy silence. He’s angry. He waves an impetuous hand across the field table.
“Now, drink your tea and talk.”
Morning comes. I’m woken by a rooster calling from the yard behind the House. I must have slept after all. I pull myself up from the bunk, shivering slightly. There is condensation on the inside of the window. I have probably given myself a chill.
The door handle turns and without knocking, Harris comes inside. “You’re up,” he remarks, and then, “You smell like an animal.”
Morning comes slowly, but I must fall asleep at some point, because the next thing I know the rooster is calling and a cool, fresh breeze is blowing through the open window. I barely have time to wipe the sleep from my eyes and brush myself down before the door opens and Harris enters.
He takes one look around, and sighs, a deep, wistful sigh.
“Things just get worse and worse for you, Manning,” he remarks. “You are your own worst enemy.”
“I was quite certain, after a while. After we’d been talking. He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
Still there means no-one has found it, which means it is probably well-hidden. And short of skipping the compound now, I can afford to leave it hidden there a while longer. So I leave it in place.
Where now?
“No, I don’t. I’ve got work I should be doing tomorrow, and I need my rest...”
“Work that will be difficult for you to do, don’t you think?” Harris replies.
“They’ll have made a replacement by tomorrow,” I reply. “The war doesn’t stop over one missing reel.”
The reel went missing from the Bombe this afternoon. The four of us were in the Hut at the time, working on the latest intercept. It was Russell who noticed the machine producing strange results and found the gap in its plugboard. But as to who took it - it could have been any of us.
And indeed, it must have been. The machine had been functioning as normal when we began our calculations. And then, a short few hours later, it was gone. We had to stop. There was nothing more we could do until it was replaced. The part was vital, just as the machine was vital, and so were the contents of the message, still unread twenty four hours later.
“Let’s get straight to the point. Do you have the component?” Harris demands. “Do you know where it is?”
“I’ve done nothing that I’m ashamed of.”
“Tell me, then,” he asks. “What’s your theory? You’re a smart fellow - as smart as they come around here, and that’s saying something. What’s your opinion on the missing component? Accident, perhaps? Or do you blame one of the other men?”
“All right.” With a sigh, your defiance collapses."If you’re searched my things then I suppose you’ve found... what you need.
Harris nods once. “I’ve seen the same story a hundred times before,” he says. “A young man like yourself - clever, somewhat removed from the world. The kind that doesn’t go to parties, you might say. Who takes himself a little too seriously, perhaps. Takes things too far. Further than a man should allow a thing to go. That’s the story, isn’t it? You took things too far, and then you couldn’t take them back. And now they have you.”
“I suppose so,” I reply. “I’ve certainly done things I regret. Things I shouldn’t have done.”
“I see,” Harris answers. “You’ve left yourself open. To pressure. Is that what you’re saying?”
“I saw Hooper take it.”
“I see.” He is starting to lose his temper - I can see it in the creases of his face. I have seen Harris angry a few times, with lackeys and secretaries and the like, usually over things sent late or incorrectly. But never with us. With the “brains” he has always been so cautious, treating us like children. And now I see that, like a father, he wants only to smack us when we disobey him. “I wish you’d stop with your deceptions and get to the truth, man. Every minute matters.”
“I can’t remember.”
He draws his gun and lays it lightly on the field table.
“I’m sorry to threaten you, friend. But His Majesty needs that brain of yours, and that brain alone. There are plenty of other parts to you that our country could do better without. Now I’ll ask you again. Did you hide the component?”
“I was quite certain, after a while. After we’d been talking. He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
“If you’ll excuse me, Russell. I was about to take a bath.”
“Oh, of course. Well, you’ll hear soon enough. Can hardly hide the fact there’ll only be three of us from now on.”
I wave to him and move away, my thoughts turning to the young man in the village. My lover. My contact. My blackmailer. Hooper may have taken the fall for the missing component, but its recovery does mean I have nothing to sell to save my reputation.
I say quiet, listening, not sure how this will go.
“In case I’m not making myself clear,” Harris continues, “I mean, he managed to find it, by accident, somewhere where it wasn’t the night before. And at the same time, you’re sitting here with your window broken. So, I rather think you’ve played your last hand and lost. There’s no way Hooper stole that component and then just left it lying around in the doorway of his tent. No way at all. So I came to tell you that the game is up for you.”
He nods and gets to his feet. Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
I put my ear down to the keyhole, but there’s nothing now. Probably still a guard outside, of course, but they’re keeping mum.
“That’s not important now. What matters is what you do, this evening. All you have to do is go to the back of Hut 2. There’s a breeze-block with a cavity. That’s where I’ve put it. I’ll be locked up overnight, I should think. But you can pick it up and pass it to my contact. He’ll be at the south fence around two AM.”
“If you think I’ll do that then you’re crazy,” Hooper replies.
At that moment the door flies open and the Captain comes storming back inside.
Harris hustles me over to the barracks. “I hope that’s the end of it,” he mutters as he pushes me up the steps.
“Just be sure to let him out,” I reply. “And then see where he goes.”
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
“Perhaps the accomplice thought it was Hooper being kept in here. Maybe they saw the guard...”
“This is all too far-fetched,” Harris says. “I’m glad to have this back, but I need to think.”
Getting to his feet, he nods once. “You’ll have to wait a little longer, I’m afraid, Manning.”
Then he steps out of the door, muttering to himself.
“Quite terrible. I would never have guessed.”
“Well.” Russell harrumphs. “Quince was saying this morning, apparently his grandfather was German. So perhaps it’s to be expected. See you there?”
I wave to him and move away, my thoughts turning to the young man in the village. My lover. My contact. My blackmailer. Hooper may have taken the fall for the missing component, but if it was his recovering it from Hut 2 then I have nothing to sell to save my reputation, if I have any left.
If he didn’t, of course, and Harris was telling the truth about his sudden confession, then I will be able to buy my freedom once and for all.
The blanket. Perfect. I scoop it up off the bed and hold it in place over the window. This should do it. Then I heft the bucket - this really is quite a fiddly thing to be doing, and I need far longer arms, especially in cuffs - and take a strong swing, trying to imagine it’s Harris’ face on the other side.
The sound of the impact is muffled. With my arm still covered, I sweep out the remaining glass in the frame. I’m ready to escape. The only trouble is - when they look in on me in the morning, there will be no question what has happened. It won’t help me one jot with shifting suspicion off my back.
There is nothing to be gained here. I have the component now; maybe it will be of some value tomorrow.
I put my ear down to the keyhole, but there’s nothing now. Probably still a guard outside, of course, but they’re keeping mum.
“It’s not that bad. I can still fix it.”
Harris shakes his head. “This isn’t a problem to be cracked. This isn’t a puzzle. I’m sorry, but this is bigger than you now. Look. You can go to prison for what you’ve done, or we can change your identity and move you somewhere where your... indiscretions... can’t hurt anyone any more. But right now none of that matters. What happens to you, doesn’t matter. All that matters is where that component is. So I’d like you to tell me, now. Where is it?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
“You’re right.” I shake my head. “You’re right. I don’t see how I can help you after all. So, there’s only one conclusion.”
“Oh, yes? And what’s that?”
“It’s your problem. Your security breach. So much for your careful vetting process.” I lean back in my chair and fold my arms so the way they shake will not be visible. “You’d better get on with solving it, instead of wasting your time in here with me.”
Harris harrumphs. He’s thinking it all over.
“No. I have no idea.”
“Come now,” Harris says, quite the reasonable gent. “I think you can be a little more forthcoming.”
“The component?”
“Yes,” Harris replies levelly. “The component.”
“Well, as soon as it went missing the machine started to malfunction. We recognised the discrepancies in our results straight away...”
“Come now,” Harris says, quite the reasonable gent. “I think you can be a little more forthcoming.”
Next. To Hooper’s dorm. Time to wrap up this little game once and for all.
I creep around the outside of the Huts. All are quiet, steel-grey in the hazy moonlight; a few shining copper from arc-lamps strung from the trees. A few guards patrol the area at night but not many - after all, very few know this place even exists.
Our quarters are arranged away from the House; where we sleep is of less importance than where we work. We each have our own Hut, through some are less permanent than other’s. Hooper’s is a military issue tent: quite a large canopy, with two rooms inside and a short porch area where he insists people leave their shoes. It’s all zipped up for the night and no light shines from inside.
I hang back for a moment. If Harris is keeping to the terms of our deal then someone will be watching this place. But I can see no-one.
“No. Not for more than a moment, of course. Everyone here is marked out by how little we would be willing to say about it.”
“Only you told this young man more than a little, didn’t you?”
I nod. “He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
“I’m not trying to do anything except save my neck.”
“Let’s hope things work out,” Harris agrees darkly.
He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
The rest of the night passes slowly. I sleep a little, dozing mostly. Then I’m woken by the rooster in the yard. The door opens, and Harris comes in. He takes one look at the broken window and frowns with puzzlement.
“What happened there?”
“I certainly don’t. But still, I’m surprised. I had Hooper down for a full-blown double agent, a traitor. He knows he’ll face the rope, doesn’t he?”
“Don’t ask me to explain why he did what he did,” Harris sighs. “Just be grateful that he did, and you’re now off the hook.”
Curiouser and curiouser. I nod once to Harris and slip outside into the cold morning air.
Hooper’s confession only makes sense in one fashion, and that is his being dim-witted and slow. Or perhaps he knew he would be followed if he went to check, and decided he would be doomed either way.
Of course, however, there is only one way to be certain that Harris is telling the truth, and that is to find a quiet moment and check the breeze-block at the back of Hut 2.
In case I’m being followed, I divert around the perimeter of the compound. It’s a much longer path, and it takes me across some terrain that’s difficult to negotiate in the dark - muddy, and thick with thistles and nestles.
Still, I can be confident no-one is following, as I hear nothing. I crouch down behind the rear wall of Hut 2. The component is still there, wrapped in a tea-towel and shoved into a cavity in a breeze-block at the base of the Hut wall.
“I had to get out, Harris. I had to provoke Hooper into doing something that would incriminate himself fully. He’s too clever, you see...”
“Be quiet, man. We know all about your and your sordid affairs.” The Captain curls his lip. “Don’t you know there’s a war on? Do you know the kind of place they would have sent you if it haven’t had been for that brain of yours? Don’t you think you owe it to your country to use it a little more?”
Do I, I wonder? Do I owe this country anything, this country that has spurned who and what am I since the day I became a man?
“He’s petty enough, certainly. He’s a creep.” I wipe a hand across my forehead. “All I can say is, ever since I arrived here, he’s been looking to ways to bring me down a peg. I wouldn’t be surprised if he set this whole affair up just to have me court-martialled.”
“We don’t court-martial civilians,” Harris replies. “Traitors are simply hung at her Majesty’s pleasure.”
“I’m not trying to do anything except save my neck.”
“Let’s hope things work out,” Harris agrees darkly.
He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
“I can’t tell you enough, I’m glad to hear it. I’ve had a devil of a night, as you can imagine.”
His gaze flicks to the broken window, but only for a moment. I think he genuinely cannot believe I could have done it.
Harris rolls his eyes, but he might almost be smiling. “You’d better get along, and work through your devils. There’s a 24-hour-out-of-date message to be tackled and we’re a genius short. So you’d better be ready to work twice as hard.”
“Quite right,” I answer smartly.
He stares back at me. “Let’s get straight to the point. Do you have the component?” Harris demands. “Do you know where it is?”
“Put me in with Hooper. Maybe I can get something useful out of him. As his colleague.”
Harris shakes his head. “He despises you, doesn’t he? I don’t see why he’d give himself up to you.”
I wait a few minutes, to be sure the Commander will have gone, then try the door. It’s locked, all right. I’m not really one for picking locks. Never tried it. I don’t think I’ll be getting out that way.
From outside, I hear a voice. Hooper’s. He’s haranguing someone, for something.
“At the moment when the machine halted, Peterson and Jefferies were by the work-table, Collins and Humph were out having a smoke. I was by the front of the machine checking over the dip-switches. Hooper was the only one around the back of the Bombe. No-one else could have done it.”
“That’s not quite the same as seeing him do it,” Harris remarks.
“Well, then,” I answer, nervously. “What would he do? Either get rid of it straight away - or if that wasn’t possible, which it probably wouldn’t be, since he’d have to arrange things with his contacts - so most likely, he’d hide it somewhere and wait, until you had the rope around my neck and he could be sure he was safe.”
“Makes sense,” Harris agrees, cautiously. I can see he’s still not certain whether he can trust me. “Which means the question is, what can we do to rat him out?”
I settle down to wait.
Night falls. The clockwork of the heavens keeps turning, whatever state I might be in. No-one can steal the components that make the sun go down and the stars come out. I watch it performing its operations. I can’t sleep.
I peer out of the window, but it looks out onto the little brook at the back of the compound, with no view of the other huts or the House. Who knows if there are men up, searching the base of Hut 2, following one another with flashlights...
The night draws on at its own pace. I suppose by morning I will know my fate.
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
Morning comes slowly, but I must fall asleep at some point, because the next thing I know the rooster is calling and a cool, fresh breeze is blowing through the open window. I barely have time to wipe the sleep from my eyes and brush myself down before the door opens and Harris enters.
He takes one look around, and sighs, a deep, wistful sigh.
“Things just get worse and worse for you, Manning,” he remarks. “You are your own worst enemy.”
I wait a few minutes, to be sure Hooper and the Captain will have gone, then try the door. It’s locked, all right. I’m not really one for picking locks. Never tried it. I don’t think I’ll be getting out that way.
“I don’t know.”
“You can do better than that. Remember, there’s a hangman’s noose waiting for traitors.”
“Ask not for whom the bell tolls!”
He stares back at me, as if were a madman and perhaps for a split second I see him shudder.
The Captain comes outside, pulling the door to. “What’s this?” he asks. “A confession? Just like that?”
“No,” the Commander admits, in a low voice. “I’m afraid not. Rather more a scheme. The idea is to let Hooper go and see what he does. If he believes we have Manning here in irons, he’ll try to shift the component.”
“If he has it.”
“Indeed.”
The Captain peers at me for a moment, like I was some kind of curious insect.
“Sometimes, I think you people are magicians,” he remarks. “Other times you seem more like witches. Very well.”
With that he opens the door to the Hut and goes back inside. The Commander uses the moment to hustle me roughly forward.
“And what was all that shouting about?” he hisses in my ear as we move towards the barracks. “Are you trying to pull something? Or just make me look incompetent?”
“You’re right.” I shake my head. “You’re right. I don’t see how I can help you after all. So, there’s only one conclusion.”
“Oh, yes? And what’s that?”
“It’s your problem. Your security breach. So much for your careful vetting process.” I lean back in my chair and fold my arms so the way they shake will not be visible. “You’d better get on with solving it, instead of wasting your time in here with me.”
Harris harrumphs. He’s thinking it all over.
I see. Perhaps you think I bullied the man into giving himself up. Perhaps he understood my little clue far enough to know it was a threat against him, but not well enough to understand where he should look to find it. So he took the easy route out and folded. Gave me the hand.
Hardly sporting, is that it?
I look in through the door and catch Hooper’s expression. I had half expected him to be smiling be he isn’t. He looks shocked, almost hurt. “Iain,” he murmurs. “You couldn’t...”
The Captain comes outside, pulling the door to. “What’s this?” he asks. “A confession? Just like that?”
“No,” the Commander admits, in a low voice. “I’m afraid not. Rather more a scheme. The idea is to let Hooper go and see what he does. If he believes we have Manning here in irons, he’ll try to shift the component.”
“If he has it.”
“Indeed.”
The Captain peers at me for a moment, like I was some kind of curious insect.
“Sometimes, I think you people are magicians,” he remarks. “Other times you seem more like witches. Very well.”
With that he opens the door to the Hut and goes back inside. The Commander uses the moment to hustle me roughly forward.
“This scheme of yours had better come off,” he hisses in my ear. “Otherwise the Captain is going to start having men tailing me to see where I go on Saturdays.”
“Only that this process is unreasonable, and I believe you’re behaving like a swine.”
“You imbecile,” Harris replies, with sudden force. He is half out of his chair. “You know the situation as well as I do, so why all this fencing? The Hun are poised like rats, ready to run all over this country. They’ll destroy everything, you do understand that, don’t you? You’re not so locked up inside your crossword puzzles that you don’t see that, are you? And this machine we have here - you men - you are the best and only hope this country has. God help her.”
I sit back, startled by the force of his outburst. His carefully sculpted expression has curled to angry disgust and there is spit flecking his lips. He really does hate me, I think. He’ll have my neck just for the taste of it.
Morning comes. I’m woken by a rooster calling from the yard behind the House. I must have slept after all. I pull myself up from the bunk, shivering slightly. There is condensation on the inside of the window. I have probably given myself a chill.
The door handle turns and without knocking, Harris comes inside. “You’re up,” he remarks, and then, “You smell like an animal.”
I let him have his rant. He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
“I’m not trying to do anything except save my neck.”
“Let’s hope things work out,” Harris agrees darkly.
He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
“Try me. Just me and him.”
“Alone?”
“Alone.”
Harris considers it. I watch his eyes, flicking backwards and forwards over mine, like a ribbon-reader trying to load in its program.
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
Let me see. There’s the bunk, a bucket, nothing else. I have my jacket but nothing in the pockets - no handkerchief, for instance.
“I am what I am,” I reply. “I’m the way nature made me. But they’re going to hang me unless you help me, Hooper. Don’t let them hang me.”
“Assuming I wanted to help you,” he replies, carefully. “Which I don’t. What would I do?”
“Nothing. Almost nothing.
All you have to do is go to the back of Hut 2. There’s a breeze-block with a cavity. That’s where I’ve put it. I’ll be locked up overnight, I should think. But you can pick it up and pass it to my contact. He’ll be at the south fence around two AM."
“If you think I’ll do that then you’re crazy,” Hooper replies.
At that moment the door flies open and the Captain comes storming back inside.
Harris hustles me over to the barracks. “I hope that’s the end of it,” he mutters as he pushes me up the steps.
“Just be sure to let him out,” I reply. “And then see where he goes.”
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
Next. To Hooper’s dorm. Time to wrap up this little game once and for all.
I creep around the outside of the Huts. All are quiet, steel-grey in the hazy moonlight; a few shining copper from arc-lamps strung from the trees. A few guards patrol the area at night but not many - after all, very few know this place even exists.
Our quarters are arranged away from the House; where we sleep is of less importance than where we work. We each have our own Hut, through some are less permanent than other’s. Hooper’s is a military issue tent: quite a large canopy, with two rooms inside and a short porch area where he insists people leave their shoes. It’s all zipped up for the night and no light shines from inside.
I hang back for a moment. If Harris is keeping to the terms of our deal then someone will be watching this place. But I can see no-one.
“And the other men? Do we have a hut each? Surely there aren’t enough senior officers to go round.”
“Collins and Humph were outside when the theft occurred. Everyone confirms that,” Harris replies. “That leaves you, Hooper, and the other two, who vouch for each other and frankly I’m inclined to believe them. But that’s all we know. No-one here is in the business of guessing, you know that. Our business is to decode. To get to the bottom of whatever’s going on. You’ve not placed yourself beyond suspicion and until you do so...” Harris shrugs. “I’m afraid I have fewer and fewer choices as time goes on. If that component has left these grounds then every minute is critical.”
“Well, then,” I answer, nervously. “What would he do? Either get rid of it straight away - or if that wasn’t possible, which it probably wouldn’t be, since he’d have to arrange things with his contacts - so most likely, he’d hide it somewhere and wait, until you had the rope around my neck and he could be sure he was safe.”
“Makes sense,” Harris agrees, cautiously. I can see he’s still not certain whether he can trust me. “Which means the question is, what can we do to rat him out?”
“No, Harris. The young man wasn’t blackmailing me.” I take a deep breath. “It was Hooper.”
“Hooper!” Harris exclaims, in surprise.
“It’s the truth, Harris. If I’m going to jail, then so be it, but I won’t hang at Traitor’s Gate. Hooper was the one who told the boy about our work. Hooper put the boy on to me. And then, once he had me compromised, he demanded I steal the part from the machine.”
“Which you did.” Harris leans forward. “And then what? You still have it? You put it somewhere?”
“So would you after the night I’ve had.”
“Well, I’m afraid it is going to get worse for you,” Harris replies soberly. “We followed Hooper, and he took himself neatly to bed and slept like a boy scout. Which puts us back to square one, and you firmly in the frame. And I’m afraid I don’t have time for any more games. I want you to tell me where that component is, or we will hang you as a traitor.”
He passes a hand across his eyes with a long look of despair.
“I’m going to go outside and organise a rope. That’ll take about twelve minutes. That’s how long you have to decide.”
“All right. All right. That’s exactly what happened.”
“Shame,” he remarks. “I should have left that window open and put a guard on you. Might have been interesting to see where you went. Anyway, I’m glad you’re still here, even if you do smell like a dog.”
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
Let me see. There’s the bunk, a bucket, nothing else. I have my jacket but nothing in the pockets - no handkerchief, for instance.
I see. Perhaps you think I bullied the man into giving himself up. Perhaps he understood my little clue far enough to know it was a threat against him, but not well enough to understand where he should look to find it. So he took the easy route out and folded. Gave me the hand.
Hardly sporting, is that it?
“No, Harris. The young man wasn’t blackmailing me.” I take a deep breath. “It was Hooper.”
“Now look here,” Harris interrupts. “Don’t start that again.”
“It’s the truth, Harris. If I’m going to jail, then so be it, but I won’t hang at Traitor’s Gate. Hooper was the one who told the boy about our work. Hooper put the boy on to me. I should have realised, of course. These things don’t happen by chance. I was a fool to think they might. And then, once he had me compromised, he demanded I steal the part from the machine.”
“Which you did.” Harris leans forward. “And then what? You still have it? You put it somewhere?”
“Quite right,” I answer smartly.
He stares back at me. “Let’s get straight to the point. Do you have the component?” Harris demands. “Do you know where it is?”
“Yes, I considered it. He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
“It’s not that bad. I can still fix it.”
Harris shakes his head. “This isn’t a problem to be cracked. This isn’t a puzzle. I’m sorry, but this is bigger than you now. Look. You can go to prison for what you’ve done, or we can change your identity and move you somewhere where your... indiscretions... can’t hurt anyone any more. But right now none of that matters. What happens to you, doesn’t matter. All that matters is where that component is. So I’d like you to tell me, now. Where is it?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
“All right.” With a sigh, your defiance collapses."If you’re searched my things then I suppose you’ve found... what you need.
Harris nods once. “I’ve seen the same story a hundred times before,” he says. “A young man like yourself - clever, somewhat removed from the world. The kind that doesn’t go to parties, you might say. Who takes himself a little too seriously, perhaps. Takes things too far. Further than a man should allow a thing to go. That’s the story, isn’t it? You took things too far, and then you couldn’t take them back. And now they have you.”
“None of us are blameless, Harris. But I’ve done nothing to deserve this treatment. Now, please. Let me go. I’ll help you find this damn component, of course I will.”
He appears to consider the offer.
“Tell me, then,” he asks. “What’s your theory? You’re a smart fellow - as smart as they come around here, and that’s saying something. What’s your opinion on the missing component? Accident, perhaps? Or do you blame one of the other men? Hooper?”
I leave the cup exactly where it is. “Why?” I ask coldly. “What’s in it?”
“Lapsang Souchong,” he remarks, placing his own cup down on the table with a clink. “Such a curious flavour. It might almost not be tea at all. You might say it hides a multitude of sins. As do you, isn’t that correct?”
Making a wide circuit I creep around the tent. It has plenty of other flaps and openings, tied down with Gordian complexity. But nothing afford itself to slipping the component inside.
I leave the cup exactly where it is. “Why?” I ask coldly. “What’s in it?”
“Lapsang Souchong,” he remarks, placing his own cup down on the table with a clink. “Such a curious flavour. It might almost not be tea at all. You might say it hides a multitude of sins. As do you, isn’t that correct?”
“I don’t need twelve minutes. The component is in the long grass behind Hooper’s tent. I threw it there hoping to somehow frame him, but now I see that won’t be possible. I was naive, I suppose.”
“Indeed you were. And, Mr Manning: God help you if you’re lying to me.”
Harris stands, and slips away smartly. Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
The bunk has a solid metal frame, a blanket, a pillow, nothing more.
“It’s not that bad. I can still fix it.”
Harris shakes his head. “This isn’t a problem to be cracked. This isn’t a puzzle. I’m sorry, but this is bigger than you now. Look. You can go to prison for what you’ve done, or we can change your identity and move you somewhere where your... indiscretions... can’t hurt anyone any more. But right now none of that matters. What happens to you, doesn’t matter. All that matters is where that component is. So I’d like you to tell me, now. Where is it?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
The blanket. Perfect. I scoop it up off the bed and hold it in place over the window. This should do it. Then I heft my shoe by its toe, and take a strong swing, trying to imagine it’s Harris’ face on the other side.
The sound of the impact is muffled. With my arm still covered, I sweep out the remaining glass in the frame. I’m ready to escape. The only trouble is - when they look in on me in the morning, there will be no question what has happened. It won’t help me one jot with shifting suspicion off my back.
“All right,” he declares, gruffly. “We’ll try it. But if this doesn’t work, I might just put the both of you in front of a firing squad and be done with these games. Worse things happen in time of war, you know.”
“Alone,” I add.
“Alone?”
“Alone.”
Harris considers it. I watch his eyes, flicking backwards and forwards over mine, like a ribbon-reader trying to load in its program.
“Yes, perhaps. But also to ensure your name goes down in the annals of mathematics. All you have to do is go to the back of Hut 2. There’s a breeze-block with a cavity. That’s where I’ve put it. I’ll be locked up overnight, I should think. But you can pick it up and pass it to my contact. He’ll be at the south fence around two AM.”
“If you think I’ll do that then you’re crazy,” Hooper replies.
At that moment the door flies open and the Captain comes storming back inside.
Harris hustles me over to the barracks. “I hope that’s the end of it,” he mutters as he pushes me up the steps.
“Just be sure to let him out,” I reply. “And then see where he goes.”
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
I shift in my seat. “Not really. The boy was a simpleton, obviously. My intellectual inferior. His good opinion meant nothing to be. Harris, please do not misunderstand me. I was simply after his body.”
Harris, to his credit, doesn’t flinch. Well, perhaps not: but he’ll have nightmares of this moment tonight. I’m almost tempted to reach out and try to take his hand to worsen it for him, but I hold back.
“Go on with your confession,” he replies. I shrug.
“There’s not much else to say. I took the part from Bombe computing device. You seem to know that already. I had to. He was going to expose me if I didn’t.”
“This young man was blackmailing you over your affair?”
That is Harris returning. Our little computation here is complete.
That is the true secret of the calculating engine, and the source of its power: not in the components themselves, but in how they are wired together. The diversity of patterns and structures they can form. Much like people - it is how they connect that determines our victories and tragedies, and not their genius.
Which makes me wonder. Should I give up my beautiful young man to them as well as myself?
“I can’t remember.”
He draws his gun and lays it lightly on the field table.
“I’m sorry to threaten you, friend. But His Majesty needs that brain of yours, and that brain alone. There are plenty of other parts to you that our country could do better without. Now I’ll ask you again. Did you hide the component?”
I have no God to make peace with. I find it difficult to believe in goodness of any kind, in a world such as this.
But I am no traitor. At least, not to my country. To my sex, perhaps. But how could I support the Reich? If it were to come to power, I would be worse off than under the already dire circumstances of my existence.
In truth, it is men like Harris who are complex, not men like me. I live to make things ordered, systematic. I like my pencils sharpened and lined up in a row. I do not deal in difficult borders, or uncertainties, or alliances. If I could, I would reduce the world to something easier to understand, something finite. But of course, I cannot, not even here, in this little micro-world, this safe haven from the horrors of the war.
I have no place here. No way to fit. I am the intercept - caught, in the middle, cryptic and understood only thinly, through devices and machines.
Moving quickly and quietly, I hoist myself up onto the window-frame and worm my way outside into the freezing night air. Then I’m away, slipping down the paths between the Huts, sticking to the shadows, on my way to Hut 2.
I wait a few minutes, to be sure the Commander will have gone, then try the door. It’s locked, all right. I’m not really one for picking locks. Never tried it. I don’t think I’ll be getting out that way.
From outside, I hear a voice. Hooper’s. He’s haranguing someone, for something.
“Queen to rook two, checkmate!” I call, then laugh viciously, as if I am damning him straight to hell.
I only catch Hooper’s reaction for a moment - his eyebrow lifts in surprise and alarm. Good. If he thinks it is a threat then he just might be careless enough to go looking for what it might mean.
The Captain comes outside, pulling the door to. “What’s this?” he asks. “A confession? Just like that?”
“No,” the Commander admits, in a low voice. “I’m afraid not. Rather more a scheme. The idea is to let Hooper go and see what he does. If he believes we have Manning here in irons, he’ll try to shift the component.”
“If he has it.”
“Indeed.”
The Captain peers at me for a moment, like I was some kind of curious insect.
“Sometimes, I think you people are magicians,” he remarks. “Other times you seem more like witches. Very well.”
With that he opens the door to the Hut and goes back inside. The Commander uses the moment to hustle me roughly forward.
“And what was all that shouting about?” he hisses in my ear as we move towards the barracks. “Are you trying to pull something? Or just make me look incompetent?”
“So would you after the night I’ve had.”
“Well, I’m afraid it is going to get worse for you,” Harris replies soberly. “We followed Hooper, and he took himself neatly to bed and slept like a boy scout. Which puts us back to square one, and you firmly in the frame. And I’m afraid I don’t have time for any more games. I want you to tell me where that component is, or we will hang you as a traitor.”
He passes a hand across his eyes with a long look of despair.
“I’m going to go outside and organise a rope. That’ll take about twelve minutes. That’s how long you have to decide.”
The window is my only way out of here. I just need a way to smash it.
“It doesn’t matter. Just remember what I said. I’ve beaten you, Hooper. Remember that.”
I get to my feet and open the door of the Hut. The Captain storms back inside and I’m quickly thrown out. Harris hustles me over to the barracks. “I hope that’s the end of it,” he mutters as he pushes me up the steps.
“Just be sure to let him out,” I reply. “And then see where he goes.”
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. Thinking back, I should have wrapped the part from the Bombe in one of his shirts before hiding it, that would have been a clever move. I really do make a terrible spy.
Ah, but of course! I slip off one shoe and heft it by the toe. The heel will make a decent enough hammer, if I give it enough wallop.
But I’ll cut my hand to ribbons doing it. And the noise would be terrible. There must be a way of making this easier. I’m supposed to be a thief now. What would a burglar do?
I wait a few minutes, to be sure Hooper and the Captain will have gone, then try the door. It’s locked, all right. I’m not really one for picking locks. Never tried it. I don’t think I’ll be getting out that way.
With my jacket wrapped round my arm, I sweep out the remaining shards of glass. It’s not a big window, but I’m not a big man. If I was Harris, I’d be stuffed, but as it is...
Then the door locks turns. The door opens. Then Jeremy - one of the guards, rather - sticks his head through the door. “I thought I heard...”
He stops. Looks for a moment. Sees the broken window. Then without a moment’s further thought he blows his shrill whistles and hustles into the hut, grabbing me roughly by my arms.
I’m hustled into one of the huts. Nowhere to sleep, but they’re not interested in my comfort any longer. Harris comes in with the Captain.
“So,” Harris remarks. “Looks like your little trap worked. Only it worked to show you out for what you are.”
The bucket? Hardly. The bucket might do some good if I wanted to sweep up the glass afterwards, but it won’t help me smash the glass quietly.
“I saw Hooper take it.”
“Did you?” The worst of his rage is passing; he is now moving into a kind of contemptuous despair. I can imagine him wrapping up our interview soon, leaving the hut, locking the door, and dropping the key down the well in the yard. And why wouldn’t he? With my name tarnished they will not let me back to work on the Bombe - if there is the slightest smell of treachery about my name I would be lucky not be locked up for the remainder of the war. “I wish you’d stop with your deceptions and get to the truth, man. Every minute matters.”
“Hooper, I’ll make a deal with you. We both know what happened in that hut this afternoon. I know because I did it, and you know because you know you didn’t. But once this is done I’ll be rich, and I’ll split that with you. I’ll let you have the results, too. Your name on the discovery of the Bombe. And it won’t hurt the war effort - you know as well as me that the component on its own is worthless, it’s the wiring of the Bombe, the usage, that’s what’s valuable. So how about it?”
Hooper looks back at me, appalled. “You’re asking me to commit treason?”
“Very well then.” I swallow nervously, to make it look more genuine. “No. I passed it on to Hooper.”
“I see. And what did he do with it?”
“You’re right.” I shake my head. “You’re right. I don’t see how I can help you after all. So, there’s only one conclusion.”
“Oh, yes? And what’s that?”
“It’s your problem. Your security breach. So much for your careful vetting process.” I lean back in my chair and fold my arms so the way they shake will not be visible. “You’d better get on with solving it, instead of wasting your time in here with me.”
Harris harrumphs. He’s thinking it all over.
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
“You’re right.” I shake my head. “You’re right. I don’t see how I can help you after all. So, there’s only one conclusion.”
“Oh, yes? And what’s that?”
“It’s your problem. Your security breach. So much for your careful vetting process.” I lean back in my chair and fold my arms so the way they shake will not be visible. “You’d better get on with solving it, instead of wasting your time in here with me.”
Harris harrumphs. He’s thinking it all over.
Let me see. There’s the bunk, nothing else. I have my jacket but nothing in the pockets - no handkerchief, for instance.
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
“I can’t remember.”
He draws his gun and lays it lightly on the field table.
“I’m sorry to threaten you, friend. But His Majesty needs that brain of yours, and that brain alone. There are plenty of other parts to you that our country could do better without. Now I’ll ask you again. Did you hide the component?”
“You want me to tell you what happened? You’ll be disgusted, I’m quite sure.”
“I can imagine how it starts,” he growls.
“There was a young man, Harris. I met him in the town. A few months ago now. We got to talking - not about work. I said I was an accountant for a firm, just as I was supposed to. Although he seemed to know that wasn’t true. That got me wondering if he wasn’t one of us.”
Harris is not letting me off any more. “You seriously considered that possibility?”
I shake my head violently, to say no, that’s not it, but whatever is wrong with tongue is wrong with neck too. I look across at the table at Harris’ face and realise with a start how sympathetic he is. Such a kind, generous man. How can I hold anything back from him?
I take another mouthful of the bitter, strange-tasting tea before answering.
“That’s exactly it,” I say quietly. “Harris. You understand. There are some things... which can get a man into a lot of trouble. Things one shouldn’t do.”
Harris, to his credit, doesn’t stiffen. He doesn’t lean away, or remove his hands from the table-top as though my condition might be infectious. I thought they trained them in the army to shoot my kind on sight but he does not.
Of course, he does not offer any sympathy either. He only nods, once. The understanding that has passed between us here is a mere turning cog in his calculations, with no meaning or righteousness to it.
“I’ve seen the same story a hundred times before,” he says. “A young man like yourself - clever, somewhat removed from the world. The kind that doesn’t go to parties, you might say. Who takes himself a little too seriously, perhaps. Takes things too far. Further than a man should allow a thing to go. That’s the story, isn’t it? You took things too far, and then you couldn’t take them back. And now they have you.”
“If you’ll excuse me, Russell. I was about to take a bath.”
“Oh, of course. Well, you’ll hear soon enough. Can hardly hide the fact there’ll only be three of us from now on.”
I wave to him and move away, my thoughts turning to the young man in the village. My lover. My contact. My blackmailer. Hooper may have taken the fall for the missing component, but if it was his recovering it from Hut 2 then I have nothing to sell to save my reputation, if I have any left.
If he didn’t, of course, and Harris was telling the truth about his sudden confession, then I will be able to buy my freedom once and for all.
“Yes, I considered it. He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
“Yes, I considered it. He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
“Yes. Something like that. It’s a very lonely life otherwise. And the work we do - well. It only makes it worse. There’s barely a moment to oneself.”
“That’s how it is in the Service,” Harris answers. “I know you didn’t sign up for it but, well. There’s plenty of other men who didn’t who are serving now, too. Now, go on with your confession.”
That gives me pause, for a moment. I hadn’t thought of it as such. But I suppose that’s what this is. I am about to admit what I did, after all.
“There’s not much else to say. I took the part from Bombe computing device. You seem to know that already. I had to. He was going to expose me if I didn’t.”
“This young man was blackmailing you over your affair?”
As Harris speaks I find myself suddenly sharply aware, as if waking from a long sleep. The table, the corrugated walls of the hut, everything seems suddenly more tangible than a moment before. Perhaps whatever it was they put in my drink is wearing off?
I have no God to make peace with. I find it difficult to believe in goodness of any kind, in a world such as this.
But I am no traitor. At least, not to my country. To my sex, perhaps. But how could I support the Reich? If it were to come to power, I would be worse off than under the already dire circumstances of my existence.
I have no place here. No way to fit. I am the intercept - caught, in the middle, cryptic and understood only thinly, through devices and machines.
“Now steady on,” I reply, gesturing for him to calm himself.
“Talk,” Harris demands. “Talk, now. Tell me where you’ve hidden it or who you’ve passed it to. Or God help me, but I’ll take your wretched pansy body to pieces looking for it, do you understand me?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
I go over to the window and try to jimmy it open. Not much luck, but in my struggling I notice this window only backs on the thin little brook that runs down the back of the compound. Which means, if I smashed it, I might get away with no-one seeing.
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
“You want me to tell you what happened? You’ll be disgusted, I’m quite sure.”
“I can imagine how it starts,” he growls.
“There was a young man, Harris. I met him in the town. A few months ago now. We got to talking - not about work. I said I was an accountant for a firm, just as I was supposed to. Although he seemed to know that wasn’t true. That got me wondering if he wasn’t one of us.”
Harris is not letting me off any more. “You seriously considered that possibility?”
Then pause. This is too transparent. Too blatant. If I leave it here, like this, Hooper will never be seen to go looking for it: he will stumble over it in plain sight, and the men watching will wonder why it was not there when he went to bed.
No, I must try something else - or nothing at all.
The bucket? Hardly. The bucket might do some good if I wanted to sweep up the glass afterwards, but it won’t help me smash the glass quietly.
After a chance like this? A chance - however real - to save my neck? To hand it over - what, to save Hooper’s worthless skin?
“I can’t remember.”
He draws his gun and lays it lightly on the field table.
“I’m sorry to threaten you, friend. But His Majesty needs that brain of yours, and that brain alone. There are plenty of other parts to you that our country could do better without. Now I’ll ask you again. Did you hide the component?”
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
“The Captain thought it was a good scheme. You’ll most likely get a promotion.”
“Let’s hope things work out,” Harris agrees darkly.
He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
Work carefully? It’s difficult to work carefully when all one’s has is nothing but brute force.
“Try me. Just me and him.”
“Alone?”
“Alone.”
Harris considers it. I watch his eyes, flicking backwards and forwards over mine, like a ribbon-reader trying to load in its program.
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
“I’m not saying anything of the sort,” I snap back. “What is this, Harris? You’re accusing me of treachery but I don’t see a shred of evidence for it! Why don’t you put your cards on the table?”
“It’s simple enough,” Harris replies. “I’ve seen the same story a hundred times before,” he says. “A young man like yourself - clever, somewhat removed from the world. The kind that doesn’t go to parties, you might say. Who takes himself a little too seriously, perhaps. Takes things too far. Further than a man should allow a thing to go. That’s the story, isn’t it? You took things too far, and then you couldn’t take them back. And now they have you.”
Let me see. There’s the bunk, a bucket, nothing else. I have my jacket but nothing in the pockets - no handkerchief, for instance.
My anger deflates like a collapsing equation, all arguments cancelling each other out. The world, of course, owes me nothing; and I owe it everything.
“I’m afraid we have only one option, Manning,” Harris says. “Please, man. Tell us where the component is.”
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
The bucket? Hardly. The bucket might do some good if I wanted to sweep up the glass afterwards, but it won’t help me smash the glass quietly.
Work carefully? It’s difficult to work carefully when all one’s has is nothing but brute force.
“Put me in with Hooper. Maybe I can get something useful out of him. As his colleague.”
Harris shakes his head. “He despises you, doesn’t he? I don’t see why he’d give himself up to you.”
Moving quickly and quietly, I hoist myself up onto the window-frame and worm my way outside into the freezing night air. Then I’m away, slipping down the paths between the Huts, sticking to the shadows, on my way to Hut 2.
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
“I don’t know what gives you the right to pick on me. I demand a lawyer.”
“This is time of war,” Harris answers. His tone of voice has fallen down into darkness. “And by God, if I have to shoot you to recover the component or stop it falling into the wrong hands, I will, do you understand me?”
There’s an icy silence. He’s angry at my slippery answers. He waves an impetuous hand across the field table.
“Now, drink your tea and talk.”
“You can’t do this!” I cry. “It’s murder! I demand a trial, a lawyer; for God’s sake, man, you can’t just throw me overboard, we’re not barbarians...!”
“You leave me no choice,” Harris snaps back, eyes cold as gun-metal. “You and your damn cyphers. Your damn clever problems. If men like you didn’t exist, if we could just all be straight with one another.” He gets to his feet and heads for the door. “I fear for the future of this world, with men like you in. Reich or no Reich, Mr Manning, people like you simply complicate matters.”
Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
From where he’s sitting, I know Hooper can see me, so I keep my head down and look guilty as sin. The bastard is probably smiling.
The Captain comes outside, pulling the door to. “What’s this?” he asks. “A confession? Just like that?”
“No,” the Commander admits, in a low voice. “I’m afraid not. Rather more a scheme. The idea is to let Hooper go and see what he does. If he believes we have Manning here in irons, he’ll try to shift the component.”
“If he has it.”
“Indeed.”
The Captain peers at me for a moment, like I was some kind of curious insect.
“Sometimes, I think you people are magicians,” he remarks. “Other times you seem more like witches. Very well.”
With that he opens the door to the Hut and goes back inside. The Commander uses the moment to hustle me roughly forward.
“This scheme of yours had better come off,” he hisses in my ear. “Otherwise the Captain is going to start having men tailing me to see where I go on Saturdays.”
“I don’t know what gives you the right to pick on me. I demand a lawyer.”
“This is time of war,” Harris answers. His tone of voice has fallen down into darkness. “And by God, if I have to shoot you to recover the component or stop it falling into the wrong hands, I will, do you understand me?”
There’s an icy silence. He’s angry. He waves an impetuous hand across the field table.
“Now, drink your tea and talk.”
“I can’t remember.”
He draws his gun and lays it lightly on the field table.
“I’m sorry to threaten you, friend. But His Majesty needs that brain of yours, and that brain alone. There are plenty of other parts to you that our country could do better without. Now I’ll ask you again. Did you hide the component?”
In case I’m being followed, I divert around the perimeter of the compound. It’s a much longer path, and it takes me across some terrain that’s difficult to negotiate in the dark - muddy, and thick with thistles and nestles.
Still, I can be confident no-one is following, as I hear nothing. I crouch down behind the rear wall of Hut 2. The component is still there, wrapped in a tea-towel and shoved into a cavity in a breeze-block at the base of the Hut wall.
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
Moving quickly and quietly, I hoist myself up onto the window-frame and worm my way outside into the freezing night air. Then I’m away, slipping down the paths between the Huts, sticking to the shadows, on my way to Hut 2.
The bunk has a solid metal frame, a blanket, a pillow, nothing more.
I put my ear down to the keyhole, but there’s nothing now. Probably still a guard outside, of course, but they’re keeping mum.
I put my ear down to the keyhole, but there’s nothing now. Probably still a guard outside, of course, but they’re keeping mum.
“Now steady on,” I reply, gesturing for him to calm himself.
“Talk,” Harris demands. “Talk, now. Tell me where you’ve hidden it or who you’ve passed it to. Or God help me, but I’ll take your wretched pansy body to pieces looking for it, do you understand me?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
The bunk has a solid metal frame, a blanket, a pillow, nothing more.
I go over to the window and try to jimmy it open. Not much luck, but in my struggling I notice this window only backs on the thin little brook that runs down the back of the compound. Which means, if I smashed it, I might get away with no-one seeing.
“I’d be happy to help,” I answer, sympathetically, leaning forward across the table. “I’m sure there’s something I could do.”
“Like what, exactly?”
Well, then. To Hooper’s dorm. Time to wrap up this little game once and for all.
I creep around the outside of the Huts. All are quiet, steel-grey in the hazy moonlight; a few shining copper from arc-lamps strung from the trees. A few guards patrol the area at night but not many - after all, very few know this place even exists.
Our quarters are arranged away from the House; where we sleep is of less importance than where we work. We each have our own Hut, through some are less permanent than other’s. Hooper’s is a military issue tent: quite a large canopy, with two rooms inside and a short porch area where he insists people leave their shoes. It’s all zipped up for the night and no light shines from inside.
I hang back for a moment. If Harris is keeping to the terms of our deal then someone will be watching this place. But I can see no-one.
I slip off my jacket and hold it with one hand over the glass. This should do it. Then I heft the bucket - this really is quite a fiddly thing to be doing, and I need far longer arms, especially in cuffs - and take a strong swing, trying to imagine it’s Harris’ face on the other side.
The sound of the impact is muffled. With my arm still covered, I sweep out the remaining glass in the frame. I’m ready to escape. The only trouble is - when they look in on me in the morning, there will be no question what has happened. It won’t help me one jot with shifting suspicion off my back.
“You can’t do this!” I cry. “It’s murder! I demand a trial, a lawyer; for God’s sake, man, you can’t just throw me overboard, we’re not barbarians...!”
“You leave me no choice,” Harris snaps back, eyes cold as gun-metal. “You and your damn cyphers. Your damn clever problems. If men like you didn’t exist, if we could just all be straight with one another.” He gets to his feet and heads for the door. “I fear for the future of this world, with men like you in. Reich or no Reich, Mr Manning, people like you simply complicate matters.”
Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
“I’m fine,” I reply. “This is all some misunderstanding and the quicker we have it cleared up the better.”
“I couldn’t agree more.” And then he comes right out with it, with an accusation. “Let’s get straight to the point. Do you have the component?” Harris demands. “Do you know where it is?”
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
Morning comes slowly, but I must fall asleep at some point, because the next thing I know the rooster is calling and a cool, fresh breeze is blowing through the open window. I barely have time to wipe the sleep from my eyes and brush myself down before the door opens and Harris enters.
He takes one look around, and sighs, a deep, wistful sigh.
“Things just get worse and worse for you, Manning,” he remarks. “You are your own worst enemy.”
It’s no good. Nothing I can do will be any less than obvious - something appearing where something was not there before. The men watching Hooper will know it is a deception and Hooper’s protestations will be taken at face value.
If I can’t find a way for Hooper to pick the component up, as if from a hiding place of his own devising, and be caught doing it, then I have no plan at all.
“If I wanted to escape, I would have made damn sure that I could,” I tell him sternly.
“Well, I’m afraid it is going to get worse for you,” Harris replies soberly. “We followed Hooper, and he took himself neatly to bed and slept like a boy scout. Which puts us back to square one, and you firmly in the frame. And I’m afraid I don’t have time for any more games. I want you to tell me where that component is, or we will hang you as a traitor.”
He passes a hand across his eyes with a long look of despair.
“I’m going to go outside and organise a rope. That’ll take about twelve minutes. That’s how long you have to decide.”
I slip off my jacket and hold it with one hand over the glass. This should do it. Then I heft the bucket - this really is quite a fiddly thing to be doing, and I need far longer arms, especially in cuffs - and take a strong swing, trying to imagine it’s Harris’ face on the other side.
The sound of the impact is muffled. With my arm still covered, I sweep out the remaining glass in the frame. I’m ready to escape. The only trouble is - when they look in on me in the morning, there will be no question what has happened. It won’t help me one jot with shifting suspicion off my back.
I shake my head violently, to say no, that’s not it, but whatever is wrong with tongue is wrong with neck too. I look across at the table at Harris’ face and realise with a start how sympathetic he is. Such a kind, generous man. How can I hold anything back from him?
I take another mouthful of the bitter, strange-tasting tea before answering.
“That’s exactly it,” I say quietly. “Harris. You understand. There are some things... which can get a man into a lot of trouble. Things one shouldn’t do.”
Harris, to his credit, doesn’t stiffen. He doesn’t lean away, or remove his hands from the table-top as though my condition might be infectious. I thought they trained them in the army to shoot my kind on sight but he does not.
Of course, he does not offer any sympathy either. He only nods, once. The understanding that has passed between us here is a mere turning cog in his calculations, with no meaning or righteousness to it.
“I’ve seen the same story a hundred times before,” he says. “A young man like yourself - clever, somewhat removed from the world. The kind that doesn’t go to parties, you might say. Who takes himself a little too seriously, perhaps. Takes things too far. Further than a man should allow a thing to go. That’s the story, isn’t it? You took things too far, and then you couldn’t take them back. And now they have you.”
I wait a few minutes, to be sure Hooper and the Captain will have gone, then try the door. It’s locked, all right. I’m not really one for picking locks. Never tried it. I don’t think I’ll be getting out that way.
“You’re right. Let me talk to him, then. As a colleague. Maybe I can get something useful out of him.”
Harris shakes his head. “He despises you, doesn’t he? I don’t see why he’d give himself up to you.”
I pat down my pockets but all I’m carrying is the intercept, which is no good at all.
“I can’t remember.”
He draws his gun and lays it lightly on the field table.
“I’m sorry to threaten you, friend. But His Majesty needs that brain of yours, and that brain alone. There are plenty of other parts to you that our country could do better without. Now I’ll ask you again. Did you hide the component?”
Let me see. There’s the bunk, a bucket, nothing else. I have my jacket but nothing in the pockets - no handkerchief, for instance.
“I suppose so,” I reply. “I’ve certainly done things I regret. Things I shouldn’t have done.”
“I see,” Harris answers. “You’ve left yourself open. To pressure. Is that what you’re saying?”
Enough of this. There isn’t any time to lose. Right now they’ll be following Hooper as he goes to bed, and goes to sleep; and then that’s it. The minute he closes his eyelids and drifts off that’s the moment that this trap swings shut on me.
So I punch out the glass with my fist and it shatters with a terrific noise. Then I stop, and wait, to see if anyone will come in through the door.
Nothing.
“He has? I knew he would. The worm.”
“Steady now. Matters aren’t over yet. There’s still the issue of the component. It hasn’t turned up. He didn’t lead us to it. I guess he figured you must have had something on him. I don’t know.”
He looks quite put out by the whole affair. He is not the kind of man to deal well with ambiguities and probabilities, far preferred the clarity of fact and falsehood.
“I don’t know what gives you the right to pick on me. I demand a lawyer.”
“This is time of war,” Harris answers. His tone of voice has fallen down into darkness. “And by God, if I have to shoot you to recover the component or stop it falling into the wrong hands, I will, do you understand me?”
There’s an icy silence. He’s angry. He waves an impetuous hand across the field table.
“Now, drink your tea and talk.”
I put my ear down to the keyhole, but there’s nothing now. Probably still a guard outside, of course, but they’re keeping mum.
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
“I’m no traitor, damn it. You know I’m not. How much work have I done here? Against the Germans? Cracking their codes? Understanding their secrets? I’ve given it my all! And you know as well as I do, if the Reich were to invade, I would be a dead man for being what I am. So please, Hooper. I’m not doing any of this lightly. But I’m in a jam!”
“Assuming I wanted to help you,” he replies, carefully. “Which I don’t. What would I do?”
“Nothing. Almost nothing.
All you have to do is go to the back of Hut 2. There’s a breeze-block with a cavity. That’s where I’ve put it. I’ll be locked up overnight, I should think. But you can pick it up and pass it to my contact. He’ll be at the south fence around two AM."
“If you think I’ll do that then you’re crazy,” Hooper replies.
At that moment the door flies open and the Captain comes storming back inside.
Harris hustles me over to the barracks. “I hope that’s the end of it,” he mutters as he pushes me up the steps.
“Just be sure to let him out,” I reply. “And then see where he goes.”
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
“Absolutely.”
Harris opens the door and pushes me inside. “Captain,” he calls. “Could I have a moment?”
The Captain, looking puzzled, steps out. The door is closed. Hooper stares at me, open-mouthed, about to say something. I probably have less than a minute before the Captain storms back in and declares this plan to be bunkum.
I shift in my seat. “Not really. The boy was a simpleton, obviously. My intellectual inferior. His good opinion meant nothing to be. Harris, please do not misunderstand me. I was simply after his body.”
Harris, to his credit, doesn’t flinch. Well, perhaps not: but he’ll have nightmares of this moment tonight. I’m almost tempted to reach out and try to take his hand to worsen it for him, but I hold back.
“Go on with your confession,” he replies. I shrug.
“There’s not much else to say. I took the part from Bombe computing device. You seem to know that already. I had to. He was going to expose me if I didn’t.”
“This young man was blackmailing you over your affair?”
The bunk has a solid metal frame, a blanket, a pillow, nothing more.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Hooper’s been taken away. They caught him, uncovering that missing Bombe component from a hiding place somewhere, apparently about to take it to his contact.” Russell harrumphs. “Quince was saying this morning, apparently his grandfather was German. So perhaps it’s to be expected. See you there?”
I wave to him and move away, my thoughts turning to the young man in the village. My lover. My contact. My blackmailer. Hooper may have taken the fall for the missing component, but if it was his recovering it from Hut 2 then I have nothing to sell to save my reputation.
If he didn’t, of course, and Harris was telling the truth about his sudden confession, then I will be able to buy my freedom once and for all.
I leave the cup exactly where it is. “Why?” I ask coldly. “What’s in it?”
“Lapsang Souchong,” he remarks, placing his own cup down on the table with a clink. “Such a curious flavour. It might almost not be tea at all. You might say it hides a multitude of sins. As do you, isn’t that correct?”
I nod. “I don’t need twelve minutes. The missing component of the Bombe computer is hidden in a small cavity in a breeze-block supporting the left rear post of Hut 2. I put in there anticipating a search. I intended to dispose of it once the fuss had died down. I suppose I was foolish to think that it might.”
“Indeed you were. And, Mr Manning: God help you if you’re lying to me.”
Harris stands, and slips away smartly. Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
“No, of course not.” I push the teacup around on its base. “All I can say is, ever since I arrived here, he’s been looking to ways to bring me down a peg. I wouldn’t be surprised if he set this whole affair up just to have me court-martialled.”
“We don’t court-martial civilians,” Harris replies. “Traitors are simply hung at her Majesty’s pleasure.”
Quickly, I pull it free, and slip it into the pocket of my jacket.
Where now?
“Yes. Something like that. It’s a very lonely life otherwise. And the work we do - well. It only makes it worse. There’s barely a moment to oneself.”
“That’s how it is in the Service,” Harris answers. “I know you didn’t sign up for it but, well. There’s plenty of other men who didn’t who are serving now, too. Now, go on with your confession.”
That gives me pause, for a moment. I hadn’t thought of it as such. But I suppose that’s what this is. I am about to admit what I did, after all.
“There’s not much else to say. I took the part from Bombe computing device. You seem to know that already. I had to. He was going to expose me if I didn’t.”
“This young man was blackmailing you over your affair?”
As Harris speaks I find myself suddenly sharply aware, as if waking from a long sleep. The table, the corrugated walls of the hut, everything seems suddenly more tangible than a moment before. Perhaps whatever it was they put in my drink is wearing off?
“How should I know?” I reply, defensively. “All I can say is, ever since I arrived here, he’s been looking to ways to bring me down a peg. I wouldn’t be surprised if he set this whole affair up just to have me court-martialled.”
“We don’t court-martial civilians,” Harris replies. “Traitors are simply hung at her Majesty’s pleasure.”
I slip off my jacket and hold it with one hand over the glass. This should do it. Then I heft back my arm, and take a strong swing, trying to imagine it’s Harris’ face on the other side.
The sound of the impact is muffled. With my arm still covered, I sweep out the remaining glass in the frame. I’m ready to escape. The only trouble is - when they look in on me in the morning, there will be no question what has happened. It won’t help me one jot with shifting suspicion off my back.
I peer out of the window, but it looks out onto the little brook at the back of the compound, with no view of the other huts or the House. Who knows if there are men up, searching the base of Hut 2, following one another with flashlights...
The night draws on at its own pace. I suppose by morning I will know my fate.
“No.”
“Too bad.” Harris opens the door and pushes me inside. “Captain,” he calls. “Could I have a moment?”
The Captain, looking puzzled, steps out. The door is closed. Hooper stares at me, open-mouthed, about to say something. I probably have less than a minute before the Captain storms back in and declares this plan to be bunkum.
Enough of this. There isn’t any time to lose. Right now they’ll be following Hooper as he goes to bed, and goes to sleep; and then that’s it. The minute he closes his eyelids and drifts off that’s the moment that this trap swings shut on me.
So I punch out the glass with my shoe and it shatters with a terrific noise. Then I stop, and wait, to see if anyone will come in through the door.
Nothing.
“So would you,” I reply tartly. Harris raises an eyebrow.
“I’ve been through worse than this,” he replies matter-of-factly. “It’s hardly my fault if you sleep in your clothes.”
I glare back at him.
He goes over to the window, unlocks it and throws it open, relishing the fresh air from outside. “Hooper’s confessed, you know.”
“You mean he didn’t even hide it? Just put it in his shoe?”
“No,” Harris replies. “That isn’t really what I mean. I mean, he managed to find it, by accident, somewhere where it wasn’t the night before. And at the same time, you’re sitting here with your window broken. So, I rather think you’ve played your last hand and lost. There’s no way Hooper stole that component and then just left it lying around in the doorway of his tent. No way at all. So I came to tell you that the game is up for you.”
He nods and gets to his feet. Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
“Quite right,” I answer smartly.
He stares back at me. “Let’s get straight to the point. Do you have the component?” Harris demands. “Do you know where it is?”
“No, Harris. I don’t think you can understand.”
“Go on with your confession,” he replies. That gives me pause, for a moment. I hadn’t thought of it as such. But I suppose that’s what this is. I am about to admit what I did, after all.
“There’s not much else to say. I took the part from Bombe computing device. You seem to know that already. I had to. He was going to expose me if I didn’t.”
“This young man was blackmailing you over your affair?”
As Harris speaks I find myself suddenly sharply aware, as if waking from a long sleep. The table, the corrugated walls of the hut, everything seems suddenly more tangible than a moment before. Perhaps whatever it was they put in my drink is wearing off?
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
“Right now, I think you take that role, Harris,” I reply coolly.
“Very droll,” he replies. “Let me tell you what happened this morning, and see if it takes the smile off your face. Our men watching Hooper’s tent saw Hooper wake up, get dressed, clamber out of his tent and then remark with surprise as, while looking for his shoes, he stumbled on something just at the entrance of his tent.”
“So would you after the night I’ve had.”
“Well, I’m afraid it is going to get worse for you,” Harris replies soberly. “We followed Hooper, and he took himself neatly to bed and slept like a boy scout. Which puts us back to square one, and you firmly in the frame. And I’m afraid I don’t have time for any more games. I want you to tell me where that component is, or we will hang you as a traitor.”
He passes a hand across his eyes with a long look of despair.
“I’m going to go outside and organise a rope. That’ll take about twelve minutes. That’s how long you have to decide.”
“Oh, yes?”
“Yes. For what that’s worth. There’s still the issue of the component. It hasn’t turned up. He didn’t lead us to it. I guess he figured you must have had something on him. I don’t know.”
He looks quite put out by the whole affair. He is not the kind of man to deal well with ambiguities and probabilities, far preferred the clarity of fact and falsehood.
I lift the cup to my lips and take a sip, trying to act natural. He watches as I do so.
“Lapsang Souchong,” he remarks, placing his own cup down on the table with a clink. “Such a curious flavour. It might almost not be tea at all. You might say it hides a multitude of sins. As do you, isn’t that correct?”
“I’ve thought so before.” Certainly in the matter of getting blackmailed.
“Let me tell you what happened this morning. Our men watching Hooper’s tent saw Hooper wake up, get dressed, clamber out of his tent and then remark with surprise as, while looking for his shoes, he stumbled on something just at the entrance of his tent.”
“Well, then,” I answer, nervously. “What would he do? Either get rid of it straight away - or if that wasn’t possible, which it probably wouldn’t be, since he’d have to arrange things with his contacts - so most likely, he’d hide it somewhere and wait, until you had the rope around my neck and he could be sure he was safe.”
“Makes sense,” Harris agrees, cautiously. I can see he’s still not certain whether he can trust me. “Which means the question is, what can we do to rat him out?”
I cast around the small room. There’s a bucket in one corner for emergencies - I suppose I could use that. I pick it up but it’s not very easy to heft. And the noise would be terrible. There must be a way of making this easier. I’m supposed to be a thief now. What would a burglar do?
I have no God to make peace with. I find it difficult to believe in goodness of any kind, in a world such as this.
But I am no traitor. At least, not to my country. To my sex, perhaps. But how could I support the Reich? If it were to come to power, I would be worse off than under the already dire circumstances of my existence.
I have no place here. No way to fit. I am the intercept - caught, in the middle, cryptic and understood only thinly, through devices and machines.
I suppose I do not believe they will hang me. They will lock me up and continue to use my brain, if they can. I wonder what they will tell the world - perhaps that I have taken my own life. That would be simplest. The few who know me would believe it.
Well, then. Not a bad existence, in prison. Removed from temptation. A kind of imposed monasticism, with plenty more problems to solve, and more mysteries to fathom.
I wonder what else I might yet unravel before I’m done?
“We’re still in ear-shot if they let Hooper go. Best get us inside and then we can talk, if we must.”
“I’ve had enough of your voice for one day,” Harris replies grimly. He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. I can only hope that Hooper bites on my baited hook. If he thinks I’m mad and bitter enough to have framed him somehow, and arrogant enough to have taunted him with a clue to where the damning evidence is hidden... if he hates me enough, and is paranoid enough, then he might unravel my little riddle and go searching around Hut 2.
Thinking back, I should have wrapped the part from the Bombe in one of his shirts before hiding it, that would have been a clever move. I really do make a terrible spy.
“It’s your problem. Your security breach. So much for your careful vetting process.” I lean back in my chair and fold my arms so the way they shake will not be visible. “You’d better get on with solving it, instead of wasting your time in here with me.”
Harris harrumphs. He’s thinking it all over.
No, I am content. I suppose I do not believe they will hang me. They will lock me up and continue to use my brain, if they can. I wonder what they will tell the world - perhaps that I have taken my own life. That would be simplest. The few who know me would believe it.
Well, then. Not a bad existence, in prison. Removed from temptation. A kind of imposed monasticism, with plenty more problems to solve, and more mysteries to fathom.
I wonder what else I might yet unravel before I’m done?
“Now steady on,” I reply, gesturing for him to calm himself.
“Talk,” Harris demands. “Talk, now. Tell me where you’ve hidden it or who you’ve passed it to. Or God help me, but I’ll take your wretched pansy body to pieces looking for it, do you understand me?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
“Well, then,” I answer, nervously. “What would he do? Either get rid of it straight away - or if that wasn’t possible, which it probably wouldn’t be, since he’d have to arrange things with his contacts - so most likely, he’d hide it somewhere and wait, until you had the rope around my neck and he could be sure he was safe.”
“Makes sense,” Harris agrees, cautiously. I can see he’s still not entirely convinced by my tale, as well he might not be - I’ve hardly been entirely straight with him. “Which means the question is, what can we do to rat him out?”
I see. Perhaps you think I bullied the man into giving himself up. Perhaps he understood my little clue far enough to know it was a threat against him, but not well enough to understand where he should look to find it. So he took the easy route out and folded. Gave me the hand.
Hardly sporting, is that it?
“I’m not saying anything of the sort,” I snap back. “What is this, Harris? You’re accusing me of treachery but I don’t see a shred of evidence for it! Why don’t you put your cards on the table?”
“It’s simple enough,” Harris replies. “I’ve seen the same story a hundred times before,” he says. “A young man like yourself - clever, somewhat removed from the world. The kind that doesn’t go to parties, you might say. Who takes himself a little too seriously, perhaps. Takes things too far. Further than a man should allow a thing to go. That’s the story, isn’t it? You took things too far, and then you couldn’t take them back. And now they have you.”
If I leave the component here somewhere it should be somewhere I can rely on Hooper finding it, but no-one before Hooper. In particular.
I slip off my jacket and hold it with one hand over the glass. This should do it. Then I heft my shoe by its toe, and take a strong swing, trying to imagine it’s Harris’ face on the other side.
The sound of the impact is muffled. With my arm still covered, I sweep out the remaining glass in the frame. I’m ready to escape. The only trouble is - when they look in on me in the morning, there will be no question what has happened. It won’t help me one jot with shifting suspicion off my back.
“Just adding to the drama,” I tell him, confidently. “I’m sure you can understand that.”
“I think we’ve had enough drama today already,” Harris replies. “Let’s hope for a clean kill.”
He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
“Yes. Something like that. It’s a very lonely life otherwise. And the work we do - well. It only makes it worse. There’s barely a moment to oneself.”
“That’s how it is in the Service,” Harris answers. “I know you didn’t sign up for it but, well. There’s plenty of other men who didn’t who are serving now, too. Now, go on with your confession.”
That gives me pause, for a moment. I hadn’t thought of it as such. But I suppose that’s what this is. I am about to admit what I did, after all.
“There’s not much else to say. I took the part from Bombe computing device. You seem to know that already. I had to. He was going to expose me if I didn’t.”
“This young man was blackmailing you over your affair?”
The weight of the Bombe component safely in my jacket, I return the short way up the paths between the huts to the barrack block and the broken window.
It’s a little harder getting back through - the window is higher off the ground than the floor inside - but after a decent bit of jumping and hauling I manage to get my elbows up, and then one leg, and finally I collapse inside, quite winded and out breath.
“The component?”
“Yes,” Harris replies levelly. “The component.”
“Well, as soon as it went missing the machine started to malfunction. We recognised the discrepancies in our results straight away...”
“Come now,” Harris says, quite the reasonable gent. “I think you can be a little more forthcoming.”
“How should I know?” I reply, defensively. “All I can say is, ever since I arrived here, he’s been looking to ways to bring me down a peg. I wouldn’t be surprised if he set this whole affair up just to have me court-martialled.”
“We don’t court-martial civilians,” Harris replies. “Traitors are simply hung at her Majesty’s pleasure.”
I go over to the window and try to jimmy it open. Not much luck, but in my struggling I notice this window only backs on the thin little brook that runs down the back of the compound. Which means, if I smashed it, I might get away with no-one seeing.
From outside, I hear a voice. Hooper’s. He’s haranguing someone, for something.
“Of course I do,” I answer.
The reel went missing from the Bombe this afternoon. The four of us were in the Hut at the time, working on the latest intercept. It was Russell who noticed the machine producing strange results and found the gap in its plugboard. But as to who took it - it could have been any of us.
And indeed, it must have been. The machine had been functioning as normal when we began our calculations. And then, a short few hours later, it was gone. We had to stop. There was nothing more we could do until it was replaced. The part was vital, just as the machine was vital, and so were the contents of the message, still unread twenty four hours later.
“Let’s get straight to the point. Do you have the component?” Harris demands. “Do you know where it is?”
Making a wide circuit I creep around the tent. It has plenty of other flaps and openings, tied down with Gordian complexity. But nothing afford itself to slipping the component inside.
Quickly, I pull it free, and slip it into the pocket of my jacket.
Where now?
In case I’m being followed, I divert around the perimeter of the compound. It’s a much longer path, and it takes me across some terrain that’s difficult to negotiate in the dark - muddy, and thick with thistles and nestles.
Still, I can be confident no-one is following, as I hear nothing. I crouch down behind the rear wall of Hut 2. The component is still there, wrapped in a tea-towel and shoved into a cavity in a breeze-block at the base of the Hut wall.
I wait a few minutes, to be sure the Commander will have gone, then try the door. It’s locked, all right. I’m not really one for picking locks. Never tried it. I don’t think I’ll be getting out that way.
From outside, I hear a voice. Hooper’s. He’s haranguing someone, for something.
“All right.” With a sigh, your defiance collapses."If you’re searched my things then I suppose you’ve found... what you need.
Harris nods once. “I’ve seen the same story a hundred times before,” he says. “A young man like yourself - clever, somewhat removed from the world. The kind that doesn’t go to parties, you might say. Who takes himself a little too seriously, perhaps. Takes things too far. Further than a man should allow a thing to go. That’s the story, isn’t it? You took things too far, and then you couldn’t take them back. And now they have you.”
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
“Quite terrible. I would never have guessed.”
“Well.” Russell harrumphs. “Quince was saying this morning, apparently his grandfather was German. So perhaps it’s to be expected. See you there?”
I wave to him and move away, my thoughts turning to the young man in the village. My lover. My contact. My blackmailer. Hooper may have taken the fall for the missing component, but if it was his recovering it from Hut 2 then I have nothing to sell to save my reputation.
If he didn’t, of course, and Harris was telling the truth about his sudden confession, then I will be able to buy my freedom once and for all.
“I’m not trying to do anything except save my neck.”
“Let’s hope things work out,” Harris agrees darkly.
He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
“Really, Commander,” I reply. “It rather sounds like you want to spank me.”
“For God’s sake,” he declares with thick disgust, then swoops away out of the room. Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
“I suppose I do rather.” I laugh, but Harris does not.
“This damn business gets worse and worse,” he says, talking as he goes over to unlock and throw open the window. “Hooper’s confessed, you know.”
“No. It’s not treason. It’s a trade, plain and simple.”
“If you think I’ll do that then you’re crazy,” Hooper replies.
At that moment the door flies open and the Captain comes storming back inside.
Harris hustles me over to the barracks. “I hope that’s the end of it,” he mutters as he pushes me up the steps.
“Just be sure to let him out,” I reply. “And then see where he goes.”
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
“No. I have no idea.”
He’s talking about the missing reel from the Bombe. Russell discovered it this afternoon when the machine began producing strange results. We were all in the Hut when it happened and it had been in place when we sat down to work. The conclusions had been obvious to all four of us immediately, but had gone undiscussed, even after the empty socket was located, the wiring torn on either side.
“Lucky these things are easy to replace,” Russell had remarked, and that had been that. We had stopped work, sent out for a new part to be machined. And drunk our tea and watched each other.
“Come now,” Harris says, quite the reasonable gent. “As I told you. We’re not interviewing everyone. Only you. So. I think you can be a little more forthcoming.”
“I don’t have it any more. I passed it through the fence to my contact straight after taking it, before it was discovered to be missing. It would have been idiocy to do differently. It’s long gone, I’m afraid.”
“You fool, Manning,” Harris curses, getting quickly to his feet. “You utter fool. Do you suppose you will be any better off living under Hitler? It’s men like you who will get us all killed. Men too feeble, too weak in their hearts to stand up and take a man’s responsibility for the world. You’re happier to stay a child all your life and play with your little childish toys.”
I put my ear to the keyhole but can make out nothing. Are there still guards posted? Perhaps, if Hooper has managed to incriminate himself, the guards have been removed?
Perhaps the door is unlocked and they left me to sleep? I try the handle. No such luck.
The night draws on at its own pace. I suppose by morning I will know my fate.
“Here at Bletchley? Of course I do”
“Here, now,” Harris replies firmly. “We’re not talking to everyone, you understand. I can imagine you might feel pretty sore about that, old man. I can imagine you feeling picked on. You always were a sensitive soul.”
“Then I’ll be going, on and getting on with my job of saving her, shall I?” I even rise half to my feet, before he slams the tabletop.
“Talk,” Harris demands. “Talk, now. Tell me where you’ve hidden it or who you’ve passed it to. Or God help me, but I’ll take your wretched pansy body to pieces looking for it, do you understand me?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
“Then you know I’m right. You knew all along. Why did you threaten me?”
“We don’t know anything, except that we have a traitor, holding the fate of the country in their hands. No-one here is in the business of guessing, you know that. Our business is to decode. To get to the bottom of whatever’s going on. You’ve not placed yourself beyond suspicion and until you do so...” Harris shrugs. “I’m afraid I have fewer and fewer choices as time goes on. If that component has left these grounds then every minute is critical.”
“Maybe I can help with that.”
“Oh, yes? And how, exactly?”
It depends, perhaps, on what his name his worth. If it were to prove valuable, well; perhaps I can concoct a few more such lovers with which to ease my later days.
Hooper, perhaps. He wouldn’t like that.
“We recovered the part, just where you said it was,” Harris reports, as he puts the cuffs around my wrists. “Of course, a couple of the men swear blind they searched there yesterday, so I’m afraid, what with the broken window... we’ve formed a perfectly good theory which doesn’t bode well for you.”
“I see.” It doesn’t seem worth arguing any further. “I still have the intercept in my pocket,” I remark. “Wherever we’re going, could I have a pencil?”
He looks me in the eye.
“Certainly. And one of your computing things, if I get my way. And when we’re old, and smoking pipes together in The Rag like heroes, I’ll explain to you the way that decent men have affairs. You scientists.” He drags me up to my feet. “You think you have to re-invent everything.”
With that, he hustles me out of the door and I can’t help thinking that, with a little more strategy, I could still have won the day. But too late now, of course.
“The Captain thought it was a good scheme. You’ll most likely get a promotion.”
“Let’s hope things work out,” Harris agrees darkly.
He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
I say nothing, my lips tightly, firmly sealed. It’s true I am a traitor, to the very laws of nature. The world has taught me that since a very early age. But not to my country - should the Reich win this war, I would hardly be treated as an honoured hero. I was doomed from the very start.
I explain none of this. How could a man like Harris understand?
The Commander takes one look back from the doorway as he pulls it to.
“It’s been a pleasure working with you, Mr Manning,” he declares. “You’ve done a great service to this country. If we come through, I’m sure they’ll remember you name. I’m sorry it had to end this way and I’ll do my best to keep it quiet. No-one need know what you did.”
Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
“Tell Hooper I’ve confessed. In fact, better yet, let him see you march me off in handcuffs. Then let him go, and watch him. Ten to one he’ll go straight to wherever he’s hidden that component and his game will be up.”
Harris nods slowly, chewing over the idea. It isn’t a bad plan even - except, of course, Hooper has not hidden the component, and won’t lead them anywhere. But that’s a problem I might be able to solve once I’m out of this place; and once they’re busy, dogging Hooper’s steps from hut to hut.
“It’s an interesting idea,” the Commander muses. “But I’m not so sure he’ll be that stupid. And if he’s already passed the part on, well, the whole thing will only be a waste of time.”
“That’s exactly it,” I say quietly. “Harris. You understand. There are some things... which can get a man into a lot of trouble. Things one shouldn’t do.”
Harris, to his credit, doesn’t stiffen. He doesn’t lean away, or remove his hands from the table-top as though my condition might be infectious. I thought they trained them in the army to shoot my kind on sight but he does not.
Of course, he does not offer any sympathy either. He only nods, once. The understanding that has passed between us here is a mere turning cog in his calculations, with no meaning or righteousness to it.
“I’ve seen the same story a hundred times before,” he says. “A young man like yourself - clever, somewhat removed from the world. The kind that doesn’t go to parties, you might say. Who takes himself a little too seriously, perhaps. Takes things too far. Further than a man should allow a thing to go. That’s the story, isn’t it? You took things too far, and then you couldn’t take them back. And now they have you.”
I slip off my jacket and hold it with one hand over the glass. This should do it. Then I heft my shoe by its toe, and take a strong swing, trying to imagine it’s Harris’ face on the other side.
The sound of the impact is muffled. With my arm still covered, I sweep out the remaining glass in the frame. I’m ready to escape. The only trouble is - when they look in on me in the morning, there will be no question what has happened. It won’t help me one jot with shifting suspicion off my back.
“I don’t know what gives you the right to pick on me. Shouldn’t I have a lawyer?”
“This is time of war,” Harris answers. His tone of voice has fallen down into darkness. “And by God, if I have to shoot you to recover the component or stop it falling into the wrong hands, I will, do you understand me?”
There’s an icy silence. He’s angry. He waves an impetuous hand across the field table.
“Now, drink your tea and talk.”
“Someone threw this in through the window over night,” I reply, and open my jacket to reveal the component from the Bombe. “I couldn’t see who, it was too dark. But I know what it is.”
He reaches out and takes it. “Well, I’ll be damned,” he murmurs. “That’s it all right. And you didn’t have it on you when we put you in here. But it can’t have been Hooper - I had men watching him all night. And there’s no-one else it could have been.”
He turns the component over in his hands, bemused.
I put my ear down to the keyhole, but there’s nothing now. Probably still a guard outside, of course, but they’re keeping mum.
I nod. “I don’t need twelve minutes. The missing component of the Bombe computer is hidden in a small cavity in a breeze-block supporting the left rear post of Hut 2. I put in there anticipating a search. I intended to pass it to Hooper once the fuss had died down. I suppose I was foolish to think that it might.”
“Indeed you were. And, Mr Manning: God help you if you’re lying to me.”
Harris stands, and slips away smartly. Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
“There’s nothing to explain,” I reply stiffly. “I know where your component is because it’s obvious where your component is. That doesn’t mean I took it, just because I can figure out a simple problem, any more than it means I’m a German spy because I can crack their codes.”
“Tell me, then,” he asks. “What’s your theory? You’re a smart fellow - as smart as they come around here, and that’s saying something. What’s your opinion on the missing component? Accident, perhaps? Or do you blame one of the other men? Hooper?”
“I’ve done nothing that I’m ashamed of.”
“Tell me, then,” he asks. “What’s your theory? You’re a smart fellow - as smart as they come around here, and that’s saying something. What’s your opinion on the missing component? Accident, perhaps? Or do you blame one of the other men? Hooper?”
It’s no good. Nothing I can do will be any less than obvious - something appearing where something was not there before. The men watching Hooper will know it is a deception and Hooper’s protestations will be taken at face value.
If I can’t find a way for Hooper to pick the component up, as if from a hiding place of his own devising, and be caught doing it, then I have no plan at all.
“All right. I’ll tell you what happened.” And never mind my shame, I think.
“I can imagine how it starts,” he growls.
“There was a young man, Harris. I met him in the town. A few months ago now. We got to talking - not about work, you understand. I said I was an accountant for a firm, just as I was supposed to. Although he seemed to know that wasn’t true. That got me wondering if he wasn’t one of us.”
Harris is not letting me off any more. “You seriously considered that possibility?”
I peer out of the window, but it looks out onto the little brook at the back of the compound, with no view of the other huts or the House. Who knows if there are men up, searching the base of Hut 2, following one another with flashlights...
The night draws on at its own pace. I suppose by morning I will know my fate.
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
“I was quite certain, after a while. After we’d been talking. He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
“We don’t have to believe anyone,” Harris replies sternly. “I intend to know the truth and be happy with nothing else. Right now, your story doesn’t hold water. It doesn’t tie up. We know you’ve been leaving yourself open to accusations. We’ve been watching your activities for some time. But we thought you were endangering the reputation of this site with the Government; not risking the country herself. Perhaps I put too much trust in your intellectual pride.”
He pauses for a moment, considering something. Then he continues:
“It might have been Hooper. It might have been you. No-one here is in the business of guessing, you know that. Our business is to decode. To get to the bottom of whatever’s going on. You’ve not placed yourself beyond suspicion and until you do so...” Harris shrugs. “I’m afraid I have fewer and fewer choices as time goes on. If that component has left these grounds then every minute is critical.”
My anger deflates like a collapsing equation, all arguments cancelling each other out. The world, of course, owes me nothing; and I owe it everything.
“I’m afraid we have only one option, Manning,” Harris says. “Please, man. Tell us where the component is.”
“Harris. They were blackmailing me. They knew about... certain indiscretions. You can understand, can’t you, Harris? I was in an impossible bind...”
“Be quiet, man. We know all about your and your sordid affairs.” The Captain curls his lip. “Don’t you know there’s a war on? Do you know the kind of place they would have sent you if it haven’t had been for that brain of yours? Don’t you think you owe it to your country to use it a little more?”
Do I, I wonder? Do I owe this country anything, this country that has spurned who and what am I since the day I became a man?
“Very well then.” I swallow nervously, to make it look more genuine. “No. I passed it on to Hooper.”
“I see. And what did he do with it?”
That is Harris returning. Our little computation here is complete.
That is the true secret of the calculating engine, and the source of its power: not in the components themselves, but in how they are wired together. The diversity of patterns and structures they can form. Much like people - it is how they connect that determines our victories and tragedies, and not their genius.
Which makes me wonder. Should I give up my beautiful young man to them as well as myself?
“No. I passed it on to Hooper.”
“I see. And what did he do with it?”
“Yes, I considered it. He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
Moving quickly and quietly, I hoist myself up onto the window-frame and worm my way outside into the freezing night air. Then I’m away, slipping down the paths between the Huts, sticking to the shadows, on my way to Hut 2.
I wait a few minutes, to be sure Hooper and the Captain will have gone, then try the door. It’s locked, all right. I’m not really one for picking locks. Never tried it. I don’t think I’ll be getting out that way.
I hang back a moment. Something does not seem quite right. After all, Hooper did not steal the component. He has no reason to confess to anything. Perhaps this is another trap?
“Well?” Harris asks. “What are you waiting for? Please don’t tell me you want to confess now as well, I don’t think my head could stand it.”
“Yes. Something like that. It’s a very lonely life otherwise. And the work we do - well. It only makes it worse. There’s barely a moment to oneself.”
“That’s how it is in the Service,” Harris answers. “I know you didn’t sign up for it but, well. There’s plenty of other men who didn’t who are serving now, too. Now, go on with your confession.”
That gives me pause, for a moment. I hadn’t thought of it as such. But I suppose that’s what this is. I am about to admit what I did, after all.
“There’s not much else to say. I took the part from Bombe computing device. You seem to know that already. I had to. He was going to expose me if I didn’t.”
“This young man was blackmailing you over your affair?”
“Of my genius. Hooper simply can’t stand that I’m cleverer than he is. We work so closely together, cooped up in that Hut all day. It drives him to distraction. To worse.”
“You’re suggesting Hooper would sabotage this country’s future simply to spite you?” Harris chooses his words like the military man he is, each lining up to create a ring around me.
“You’re right. Let me talk to him, then. As a colleague. Maybe I can get something useful out of him.”
Harris shakes his head. “He despises you, doesn’t he? I don’t see why he’d give himself up to you.”
Hmm. Around here? Maybe not. I might have no option but to hand my young blackmailer over my superiors for the spy he is and let him wreak what damage he can.
Perhaps that would be the moral thing to do, even, and not just the most smart. But not today. Today, there’s an intercept to resolve. The Bombe needs to be set up once more and set running.
It’s time I tackled a problem I can solve.
“No. Not for more than a moment, of course. Everyone here is marked out by how little we would be willing to say about it.”
“Only you told this young man more than a little, didn’t you?”
I nod. “He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
I leave the cup exactly where it is. “Why?” I ask coldly. “What’s in it?”
“Lapsang Souchong,” he remarks, placing his own cup down on the table with a clink. “Such a curious flavour. It might almost not be tea at all. You might say it hides a multitude of sins. As do you, isn’t that correct?”
I go over to the window and try to jimmy it open. Not much luck, but in my struggling I notice this window only backs on the thin little brook that runs down the back of the compound. Which means, if I smashed it, I might get away with no-one seeing.
“Yes, I considered it. He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
“Of my genius. Hooper simply can’t stand that I’m cleverer than he is. We work so closely together, cooped up in that Hut all day. It drives him to distraction. To worse.”
“You’re suggesting Hooper would sabotage this country’s future simply to spite you?” Harris chooses his words like the military man he is, each lining up to create a ring around me.
The bunk has a solid metal frame, a blanket, a pillow, nothing more.
No, I am content. I suppose I do not believe they will hang me. They will lock me up and continue to use my brain, if they can. I wonder what they will tell the world - perhaps that I have taken my own life. That would be simplest. The few who know me would believe it.
Well, then. Not a bad existence, in prison. Removed from temptation. A kind of imposed monasticism, with plenty more problems to solve, and more mysteries to fathom.
I wonder what else I might yet unravel before I’m done?
I cast around the small room. There’s a bucket in one corner for emergencies - I suppose I could use that. I pick it up but it’s not very easy to heft. And the noise would be terrible. There must be a way of making this easier. I’m supposed to be a thief now. What would a burglar do?
The bunk has a solid metal frame, a blanket, a pillow, nothing more.
“You mean he didn’t even hide it? Just put it in his shoe?”
“No,” Harris replies. “That isn’t really what I mean. I mean, he managed to find it, by accident, somewhere where it wasn’t the night before. And at the same time, you’re sitting here with your window broken. So, I rather think you’ve played your last hand and lost. There’s no way Hooper stole that component and then just left it lying around in the doorway of his tent. No way at all. So I came to tell you that the game is up for you.”
He nods and gets to his feet. Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
“We’re still in ear-shot if they let Hooper go. Best get us inside and then we can talk, if we must.”
“I’ve had enough of your voice for one day,” Harris replies grimly. He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. I can only hope that Hooper bites on my baited hook. If he thinks I’m mad and bitter enough to have framed him somehow, and arrogant enough to have taunted him with a clue to where the damning evidence is hidden... if he hates me enough, and is paranoid enough, then he might unravel my little riddle and go searching around Hut 2.
Thinking back, I should have wrapped the part from the Bombe in one of his shirts before hiding it, that would have been a clever move. I really do make a terrible spy.
“Maybe I can help with that.”
“Oh, yes? And how, exactly?”
“I don’t need twelve minutes. The component is in the long grass behind Hooper’s tent. I threw it there hoping to somehow frame him, but now I see that won’t be possible. I was naive, I suppose.”
“Indeed you were. And, Mr Manning: God help you if you’re lying to me.”
Harris stands, and slips away smartly. Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
From where he’s sitting, I know Hooper can see me, so I keep my head down and look guilty as sin. The bastard is probably smiling.
The Captain comes outside, pulling the door to. “What’s this?” he asks. “A confession? Just like that?”
“No,” the Commander admits, in a low voice. “I’m afraid not. Rather more a scheme. The idea is to let Hooper go and see what he does. If he believes we have Manning here in irons, he’ll try to shift the component.”
“If he has it.”
“Indeed.”
The Captain peers at me for a moment, like I was some kind of curious insect.
“Sometimes, I think you people are magicians,” he remarks. “Other times you seem more like witches. Very well.”
With that he opens the door to the Hut and goes back inside. The Commander uses the moment to hustle me roughly forward.
“This scheme of yours had better come off,” he hisses in my ear. “Otherwise the Captain is going to start having men tailing me to see where I go on Saturdays.”
“None of us are blameless, Harris. But you’re not my priest and I’m not yours. Now, please. Let me go. I’ll help you find this damn component, of course I will.”
He appears to consider the offer.
“Tell me, then,” he asks. “What’s your theory? You’re a smart fellow - as smart as they come around here, and that’s saying something. What’s your opinion on the missing component? Accident, perhaps? Or do you blame one of the other men?”
Plenty of time for that later. If there is nothing there, then Hooper discovered the component after all and Harris’ men will have swooped on him, and the story about his confession is just a ruse to test me out. And if the component is still there - well. It will be just as valuable to my young man in the village in a week’s time, and his deadline of the 31st is not quite upon us.
I head for my dorm, intent on a bath, breakfast, a glance at the crossword before the other men get to it, and then on with work. They should have replaced the component in the Bombe by now. We will be back to it, only a day behind.
And everything will proceed as before. The component will mean nothing to the Germans - this is the one fact I could never have explained to a man like Harris despite the fact that the principle behind the Bombe is the same as the principle behind an army. The individual pieces - the men, the components - do not matter. They are quite identical. It is how they are arranged that counts. The structures and patterns that they form.
I bump into Russell in the dorm hut. “Did you hear?” he whispers. “Terrible news about Hooper. Absolutely terrible.”
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
“Yes, I considered it. He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
“I was quite certain, after a while. After we’d been talking. He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
Enough of this place. Time for me to get moving. I can get to the train station on foot, catch the postal train to Scotland and be somewhere else before anyone realises that I’m gone.
Of course, then they’ll be looking for me in earnest. As a confirmed traitor.
“Yes. Something like that. It’s a very lonely life otherwise. And the work we do - well. It only makes it worse. There’s barely a moment to oneself.”
“That’s how it is in the Service,” Harris answers. “I know you didn’t sign up for it but, well. There’s plenty of other men who didn’t who are serving now, too. Now, go on with your confession.”
That gives me pause, for a moment. I hadn’t thought of it as such. But I suppose that’s what this is. I am about to admit what I did, after all.
“There’s not much else to say. I took the part from Bombe computing device. You seem to know that already. I had to. He was going to expose me if I didn’t.”
“This young man was blackmailing you over your affair?”
“You want me to tell you what happened? You’ll be disgusted, I’m quite sure.”
“I can imagine how it starts,” he growls.
“There was a young man, Harris. I met him in the town. A few months ago now. We got to talking - not about work. I said I was an accountant for a firm, just as I was supposed to. Although he seemed to know that wasn’t true. That got me wondering if he wasn’t one of us.”
Harris is not letting me off any more. “You seriously considered that possibility?”
“I’m not trying to do anything except save my neck.”
“Let’s hope things work out,” Harris agrees darkly.
He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. I can only hope that Hooper bites on my baited hook. If he thinks I’m mad and bitter enough to have framed him somehow, and arrogant enough to have taunted him with a clue to where the damning evidence is hidden... if he hates me enough, and is paranoid enough, then he might unravel my little riddle and go searching around Hut 2.
Thinking back, I should have wrapped the part from the Bombe in one of his shirts before hiding it, that would have been a clever move. I really do make a terrible spy.
The blanket. Perfect. I scoop it up off the bed and hold it in place over the window. This should do it. Then I heft back my arm, and take a strong swing, trying to imagine it’s Harris’ face on the other side.
The sound of the impact is muffled. With my arm still covered, I sweep out the remaining glass in the frame. I’m ready to escape. The only trouble is - when they look in on me in the morning, there will be no question what has happened. It won’t help me one jot with shifting suspicion off my back.
That is Harris returning. Our little computation here is complete.
That is the true secret of the calculating engine, and the source of its power: not in the components themselves, but in how they are wired together. The diversity of patterns and structures they can form. Much like people - it is how they connect that determines our victories and tragedies, and not their genius.
Which makes me wonder. Should I give up my beautiful young man to them as well as myself?
Work carefully? It’s difficult to work carefully when all one’s has is a shoe.
I suppose this must be what it feels like to have a conscience, then. Very well.
“Harris, sir. I don’t know what Hooper’s playing at, sir. But I can’t let him do this.”
“Do what?”
“Take the rope for this. I took it, sir.
The missing component of the Bombe computer is hidden in a small cavity in a breeze-block supporting the left rear post of Hut 2. I put in there anticipating a search. I intended to dispose of it once the fuss had died down. I suppose I was foolish to think that it might."
“I thought as much. I hadn’t expected you to give it out so easily, however. You understand, Hooper has said nothing, of course. In fact, he went to Hut 2 directly after we released him and uncovered the component. But he told us you had instructed him where to go. Hence my little double bluff. Frankly, I’ll be glad when I’m shot of the lot of you mathematicians.”
Harris stands, and slips away smartly. Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
I hang back a moment. Something does not seem quite right. After all, Hooper did not steal the component. He has no reason to confess to anything. Perhaps this is another trap?
“Well?” Harris asks. “What are you waiting for? Please don’t tell me you want to confess now as well, I don’t think my head could stand it.”
“None of us are blameless, Harris. But you’re not my priest and I’m not yours. Now, please. Let me go. I’ll help you find this damn component, of course I will.”
He appears to consider the offer.
“Tell me, then,” he asks. “What’s your theory? You’re a smart fellow - as smart as they come around here, and that’s saying something. What’s your opinion on the missing component? Accident, perhaps? Or do you blame one of the other men? Hooper?”
“That’s exactly it,” I say quietly. “Harris. You understand. There are some things... which can get a man into a lot of trouble. Things one shouldn’t do.”
Harris, to his credit, doesn’t stiffen. He doesn’t lean away, or remove his hands from the table-top as though my condition might be infectious. I thought they trained them in the army to shoot my kind on sight but he does not.
Of course, he does not offer any sympathy either. He only nods, once. The understanding that has passed between us here is a mere turning cog in his calculations, with no meaning or righteousness to it.
“I’ve seen the same story a hundred times before,” he says. “A young man like yourself - clever, somewhat removed from the world. The kind that doesn’t go to parties, you might say. Who takes himself a little too seriously, perhaps. Takes things too far. Further than a man should allow a thing to go. That’s the story, isn’t it? You took things too far, and then you couldn’t take them back. And now they have you.”
I suppose I do not believe they will hang me. They will lock me up and continue to use my brain, if they can. I wonder what they will tell the world - perhaps that I have taken my own life. That would be simplest. The few who know me would believe it.
Well, then. Not a bad existence, in prison. Removed from temptation. A kind of imposed monasticism, with plenty more problems to solve, and more mysteries to fathom.
I wonder what else I might yet unravel before I’m done?
“No. I passed it on to Hooper.”
“I see. And what did he do with it?”
“No, Harris. The young man wasn’t blackmailing me.” I take a deep breath. “It was Hooper.”
“Hooper!” Harris exclaims, in surprise.
“It’s the truth, Harris. If I’m going to jail, then so be it, but I won’t hang at Traitor’s Gate. Hooper was the one who told the boy about our work. Hooper put the boy on to me. I should have realised, of course. These things don’t happen by chance. I was a fool to think they might. And then, once he had me compromised, he demanded I steal the part from the machine.”
“Which you did.” Harris leans forward. “And then what? You still have it? You put it somewhere?”
I wait a few minutes, to be sure Hooper and the Captain will have gone, then try the door. It’s locked, all right. I’m not really one for picking locks. Never tried it. I don’t think I’ll be getting out that way.
“No. Not for more than a moment, of course. Everyone here is marked out by how little we would be willing to say about it.”
“Only you told this young man more than a little, didn’t you?”
I nod. “He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
The bucket? Hardly. The bucket might do some good if I wanted to sweep up the glass afterwards, but it won’t help me smash the glass quietly.
“Damn right I’m sore. Was it one of the others who put you up to this? Was it Hooper? He’s always been jealous of me. He’s...”
The Commander moustache bristles as he purses his lips. “Has he now? Of your achievements, do you think?” It’s difficult not to shake the sense that he’s mocking me. “Or of your brain? Or something else?”
Morning comes slowly, but I must fall asleep at some point, because the next thing I know the rooster is calling and a cool, fresh breeze is blowing through the open window. I barely have time to wipe the sleep from my eyes and brush myself down before the door opens and Harris enters.
He takes one look around, and sighs, a deep, wistful sigh.
“Things just get worse and worse for you, Manning,” he remarks. “You are your own worst enemy.”
The bunk has a solid metal frame, a blanket, a pillow, nothing more.
“If I wanted to escape, I would have made damn sure that I could,” I tell him sternly.
“Well, I’m afraid it is going to get worse for you,” Harris replies soberly. “We followed Hooper, and he took himself neatly to bed and slept like a boy scout. Which puts us back to square one, and you firmly in the frame. And I’m afraid I don’t have time for any more games. I want you to tell me where that component is, or we will hang you as a traitor.”
He passes a hand across his eyes with a long look of despair.
“I’m going to go outside and organise a rope. That’ll take about twelve minutes. That’s how long you have to decide.”
The bunk has a solid metal frame, a blanket, a pillow, nothing more.
“This proves nothing,” I reply stubbornly. “You still don’t have the component and without it, I don’t see what you can hope to prove.”
“Be quiet, man. We know all about your and your sordid affairs.” The Captain curls his lip. “Don’t you know there’s a war on? Do you know the kind of place they would have sent you if it haven’t had been for that brain of yours? Don’t you think you owe it to your country to use it a little more?”
Do I, I wonder? Do I owe this country anything, this country that has spurned who and what am I since the day I became a man?
“I broke it,” I reply. There doesn’t seem any use in trying to lie. “I thought I could escape. But I couldn’t get myself through.”
The Commander laughs. “Shame,” he remarks. “I should have left that window open and put a guard on you. Might have been interesting to see where you went. Anyway, I’m glad you’re still here, even if you do smell like a dog.”
“Yes, I considered it. He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
“How should I know?” I reply, defensively. “All I can say is, ever since I arrived here, he’s been looking to ways to bring me down a peg. I wouldn’t be surprised if he set this whole affair up just to have me court-martialled.”
“We don’t court-martial civilians,” Harris replies. “Traitors are simply hung at her Majesty’s pleasure.”
“I always meant to tell you,” I tell him. “I thought perhaps I could find out who they were. Lead you to them.”
Harris looks at me with contempt. “You wretched little man. Don’t think your tongue will be able to get you out of trouble. You’re going to pay for what you’ve done, and you’re going to pay dearly. If a single man loses his life because of your pride and your perversions then God help your eternal soul. The fact is you committed a crime.” If I had any sense that he understood my predicament, and that he felt for my state of being, it collapses like a chain with a broken link. “You thought you could repair it with another, more serious crime?” He shakes his head. “I thought you men were supposed to be clever. But this is the action of a frightened woman. So I’d like you to tell me, now. Where is it?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
“Quite right,” I answer smartly.
He stares back at me. “Let’s get straight to the point. Do you have the component?” Harris demands. “Do you know where it is?”
“I was quite certain, after a while. After we’d been talking. He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
I wave cheerily back and she giggles, almost drops her bicycle, then dashes away inside the House. Judging by the clock on the front gable, she’s running a little late this morning.
I turn the corner of Hut 3 and walk down the short gravel path to Hut 2. It was a good spot to choose - Hut 2 is where the electricians work, and they’re generally focussed on what they’re doing. They don’t often come outside to smoke a cigarette so it’s easy to slip past the doorway unnoticed.
From where he’s sitting, I know Hooper can see me, so I keep my head down and look guilty as sin. The bastard is probably smiling.
The Captain comes outside, pulling the door to. “What’s this?” he asks. “A confession? Just like that?”
“No,” the Commander admits, in a low voice. “I’m afraid not. Rather more a scheme. The idea is to let Hooper go and see what he does. If he believes we have Manning here in irons, he’ll try to shift the component.”
“If he has it.”
“Indeed.”
The Captain peers at me for a moment, like I was some kind of curious insect.
“Sometimes, I think you people are magicians,” he remarks. “Other times you seem more like witches. Very well.”
With that he opens the door to the Hut and goes back inside. The Commander uses the moment to hustle me roughly forward.
“This scheme of yours had better come off,” he hisses in my ear. “Otherwise the Captain is going to start having men tailing me to see where I go on Saturdays.”
“It’s not that bad. I can still fix it.”
Harris shakes his head. “This isn’t a problem to be cracked. This isn’t a puzzle. I’m sorry, but this is bigger than you now. Look. You can go to prison for what you’ve done, or we can change your identity and move you somewhere where your... indiscretions... can’t hurt anyone any more. But right now none of that matters. What happens to you, doesn’t matter. All that matters is where that component is. So I’d like you to tell me, now. Where is it?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
The blanket. Perfect. I scoop it up off the bed and hold it in place over the window. This should do it. Then I heft the bucket - this really is quite a fiddly thing to be doing, and I need far longer arms, especially in cuffs - and take a strong swing, trying to imagine it’s Harris’ face on the other side.
The sound of the impact is muffled. With my arm still covered, I sweep out the remaining glass in the frame. I’m ready to escape. The only trouble is - when they look in on me in the morning, there will be no question what has happened. It won’t help me one jot with shifting suspicion off my back.
“Explain what you should be doing, do you mean, rather than bullying me? Certainly.” I fold my arms. “I know where your component is because it’s obvious where your component is. That doesn’t mean I took it, just because I can figure out a simple problem, any more than it means I’m a German spy because I can crack their codes.”
“Tell me, then,” he asks. “What’s your theory? You’re a smart fellow - as smart as they come around here, and that’s saying something. What’s your opinion on the missing component? Accident, perhaps? Or do you blame one of the other men? Hooper?”
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
Then pause. This is too transparent. Too blatant. If I leave it here, like this, Hooper will never be seen to go looking for it: he will stumble over it in plain sight, and the men watching will wonder why it was not there when he went to bed.
No, I must try something else - or nothing at all.
I say nothing. It’s true, isn’t it? I can’t deny that I know there is a world out there, a complicated world of pain and suffering. And I can’t deny that I don’t think about it a moment longer than I have to. What use is thinking on a problem that cannot be solved? It is precisely our ability to avoid such endless spirals that makes us human and not machine.
“God have mercy on your soul,” Harris says finally, as he gets to his feet and heads for the door. “I fear no-one else will.” Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
“Then I’ll be going, on and getting on with my job of saving her, shall I?” I even rise half to my feet, before he slams the tabletop.
“Talk,” Harris demands. “Talk, now. Tell me where you’ve hidden it or who you’ve passed it to. Or God help me, but I’ll take your wretched pansy body to pieces looking for it, do you understand me?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
I let him have his rant. He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. I can only hope that Hooper bites on my baited hook. If he thinks I’m mad and bitter enough to have framed him somehow, and arrogant enough to have taunted him with a clue to where the damning evidence is hidden... if he hates me enough, and is paranoid enough, then he might unravel my little riddle and go searching around Hut 2.
Thinking back, I should have wrapped the part from the Bombe in one of his shirts before hiding it, that would have been a clever move. I really do make a terrible spy.
“Then I’ll be going, on and getting on with my job of saving her, shall I?” I even rise half to my feet, before he slams the tabletop.
“Talk,” Harris demands. “Talk, now. Tell me where you’ve hidden it or who you’ve passed it to. Or God help me, but I’ll take your wretched pansy body to pieces looking for it, do you understand me?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
“I saw Hooper take it.”
“Did you?” The worst of his rage is passing; he is now moving into a kind of contemptuous despair. I can imagine him wrapping up our interview soon, leaving the hut, locking the door, and dropping the key down the well in the yard. And why wouldn’t he? With my name tarnished they will not let me back to work on the Bombe - if there is the slightest smell of treachery about my name I would be lucky not be locked up for the remainder of the war. “I wish you’d stop with your deceptions and get to the truth, man. Every minute matters.”
“There’s nothing to explain,” I reply stiffly. “I know where your component is because it’s obvious where your component is. That doesn’t mean I took it, just because I can figure out a simple problem, any more than it means I’m a German spy because I can crack their codes.”
“Tell me, then,” he asks. “What’s your theory? You’re a smart fellow - as smart as they come around here, and that’s saying something. What’s your opinion on the missing component? Accident, perhaps? Or do you blame one of the other men? Hooper?”
“So would you,” I reply tartly. Harris raises an eyebrow.
“I’ve been through worse than this,” he replies matter-of-factly. “It’s hardly my fault if you sleep in your clothes.”
I glare back at him.
He goes over to the window, unlocks it and throws it open, relishing the fresh air from outside. “Hooper’s confessed, you know.”
That is Harris returning. Our little computation here is complete.
That is the true secret of the calculating engine, and the source of its power: not in the components themselves, but in how they are wired together. The diversity of patterns and structures they can form. Much like people - it is how they connect that determines our victories and tragedies, and not their genius.
Which makes me wonder. Should I give up my beautiful young man to them as well as myself?
“No. Not for more than a moment, of course. Everyone here is marked out by how little we would be willing to say about it.”
“Only you told this young man more than a little, didn’t you?”
I nod. “He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
“Just adding to the drama,” I tell him, confidently. “I’m sure you can understand that.”
“I think we’ve had enough drama today already,” Harris replies. “Let’s hope for a clean kill.”
He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. I can only hope that Hooper bites on my baited hook. If he thinks I’m mad and bitter enough to have framed him somehow, and arrogant enough to have taunted him with a clue to where the damning evidence is hidden... if he hates me enough, and is paranoid enough, then he might unravel my little riddle and go searching around Hut 2.
Thinking back, I should have wrapped the part from the Bombe in one of his shirts before hiding it, that would have been a clever move. I really do make a terrible spy.
I put my ear down to the keyhole, but there’s nothing now. Probably still a guard outside, of course, but they’re keeping mum.
“Well?”
“We’ll be outside the door,” Harris replies, seriously. “The first sign of any funny business and we’ll have you both on the floor in minutes. You understand? The country needs your brain, but it’s not too worried about your legs. Remember that.”
Then he gets to his feet, and opens the door, and marches me out and across the yard. The evening is drawing in and there’s a chill in the air. My mind is racing. I have one opportunity here - a moment in which to put the fear of God into Hooper and make him do something foolish to place himself in harm’s way. But how to achieve it?
“You ready?” Harris demands.
The bucket? Hardly. The bucket might do some good if I wanted to sweep up the glass afterwards, but it won’t help me smash the glass quietly.
I wait a few minutes, to be sure Hooper and the Captain will have gone, then try the door. It’s locked, all right. I’m not really one for picking locks. Never tried it. I don’t think I’ll be getting out that way.
“Then let him think he’s off the hook. Make a show of me. And then you’ll get your man.”
Somehow, I think. But that’s the part I need to work.
Harris gets to his feet. “All right,” he says. “I should no better than to trust a clever man, but we’ll give it a go.” Then, he smiles, with all his teeth, like a wolf. “Especially since this is a plan that involves keeping you in handcuffs. I don’t see what I have to lose.”
He raps on the door for the guard and gives the man a quick instruction. He returns a moment later with a cool pair of iron cuffs.
“Put ‘em up,” Harris instructs, and I do so. The metal closes around my wrists like a trap. I stand and follow Harris willingly out through the door.
But whatever I’m doing with my body, my mind is scheming. Somehow, I’m thinking, I have to get away from these men long enough to get that component behind Hut 2 and put it somewhere Hooper will go. Or, otherwise, somehow get Hooper to go there himself...
Harris marches me over to Hut 3, and gestures for the guard to stand aside. Pushing me forward, he opens the door nice and wide.
“Captain. Manning talked. If you’d step out for a moment?”
I slip off my jacket and hold it with one hand over the glass. This should do it. Then I heft back my arm, and take a strong swing, trying to imagine it’s Harris’ face on the other side.
The sound of the impact is muffled. With my arm still covered, I sweep out the remaining glass in the frame. I’m ready to escape. The only trouble is - when they look in on me in the morning, there will be no question what has happened. It won’t help me one jot with shifting suspicion off my back.
I shake my head violently, to say no, that’s not it, but whatever is wrong with tongue is wrong with neck too. I look across at the table at Harris’ face and realise with a start how sympathetic he is. Such a kind, generous man. How can I hold anything back from him?
I take another mouthful of the bitter, strange-tasting tea before answering.
“That’s exactly it,” I say quietly. “Harris. You understand. There are some things... which can get a man into a lot of trouble. Things one shouldn’t do.”
Harris, to his credit, doesn’t stiffen. He doesn’t lean away, or remove his hands from the table-top as though my condition might be infectious. I thought they trained them in the army to shoot my kind on sight but he does not.
Of course, he does not offer any sympathy either. He only nods, once. The understanding that has passed between us here is a mere turning cog in his calculations, with no meaning or righteousness to it.
“I’ve seen the same story a hundred times before,” he says. “A young man like yourself - clever, somewhat removed from the world. The kind that doesn’t go to parties, you might say. Who takes himself a little too seriously, perhaps. Takes things too far. Further than a man should allow a thing to go. That’s the story, isn’t it? You took things too far, and then you couldn’t take them back. And now they have you.”
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
“I still have it. Not on me, of course. The missing component of the Bombe computer is hidden in a small cavity in a breeze-block supporting the left rear post of Hut 2. I put in there anticipating a search. I intended to dispose of it once the fuss had died down. I suppose I was foolish to think that it might.”
“Indeed you were. And, Mr Manning: God help you if you’re lying to me.”
Harris stands, and slips away smartly. Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
“I’m not sure. I was asleep: I woke up when someone broke the window. I looked out to see who it was, but they were already gone.”
Harris looks at me with puzzlement. “Someone came by to break the window, and then ran off? That’s absurd. That’s utterly absurd. Admit it, Manning. You tried to escape and you couldn’t get through.”
“Yes, I considered it. He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
“So he’s an idiot, and he hid it in his shoe.”
“No,” Harris replies. “That isn’t really what I mean. I mean, he managed to find it, by accident, somewhere where it wasn’t the night before. And at the same time, you’re sitting here with your window broken. So, I rather think you’ve played your last hand and lost. There’s no way Hooper stole that component and then just left it lying around in the doorway of his tent. No way at all. So I came to tell you that the game is up for you.”
He nods and gets to his feet. Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
“That’s exactly it,” I say quietly. “Harris. You understand. There are some things... which can get a man into a lot of trouble. Things one shouldn’t do.”
Harris, to his credit, doesn’t stiffen. He doesn’t lean away, or remove his hands from the table-top as though my condition might be infectious. I thought they trained them in the army to shoot my kind on sight but he does not.
Of course, he does not offer any sympathy either. He only nods, once. The understanding that has passed between us here is a mere turning cog in his calculations, with no meaning or righteousness to it.
“I’ve seen the same story a hundred times before,” he says. “A young man like yourself - clever, somewhat removed from the world. The kind that doesn’t go to parties, you might say. Who takes himself a little too seriously, perhaps. Takes things too far. Further than a man should allow a thing to go. That’s the story, isn’t it? You took things too far, and then you couldn’t take them back. And now they have you.”
I shift in my seat. “Not really. The boy was a simpleton, obviously. My intellectual inferior. His good opinion meant nothing to be. Harris, please do not misunderstand me. I was simply after his body.”
Harris, to his credit, doesn’t flinch. Well, perhaps not: but he’ll have nightmares of this moment tonight. I’m almost tempted to reach out and try to take his hand to worsen it for him, but I hold back.
“Go on with your confession,” he replies. I shrug.
“There’s not much else to say. I took the part from Bombe computing device. You seem to know that already. I had to. He was going to expose me if I didn’t.”
“This young man was blackmailing you over your affair?”
“If you’ll excuse me, Russell. I was about to take a bath.”
“Oh, of course. Well, you’ll hear soon enough. Can hardly hide the fact there’ll only be three of us from now on.”
I wave to him and move away, my thoughts turning to the young man in the village. My lover. My contact. My blackmailer. Hooper may have taken the fall for the missing component, but if it was his recovering it from Hut 2 then I have nothing to sell to save my reputation.
If he didn’t, of course, and Harris was telling the truth about his sudden confession, then I will be able to buy my freedom once and for all.
The window is my only way out of here. I just need a way to smash it.
“Explain what you should be doing, do you mean, rather than bullying me? Certainly.” I fold my arms. “I know where your component is because it’s obvious where your component is. That doesn’t mean I took it, just because I can figure out a simple problem, any more than it means I’m a German spy because I can crack their codes.”
“Tell me, then,” he asks. “What’s your theory? You’re a smart fellow - as smart as they come around here, and that’s saying something. What’s your opinion on the missing component? Accident, perhaps? Or do you blame one of the other men?”
“And the other men? Do we have a hut each? Surely there aren’t enough senior officers to go round.”
“Collins and Humph were outside when the theft occurred. Everyone confirms that,” Harris replies. “That leaves you, Hooper, and the other two, who vouch for each other and frankly I’m inclined to believe them. But that’s all we know. No-one here is in the business of guessing, you know that. Our business is to decode. To get to the bottom of whatever’s going on. You’ve not placed yourself beyond suspicion and until you do so...” Harris shrugs. “I’m afraid I have fewer and fewer choices as time goes on. If that component has left these grounds then every minute is critical.”
“Try me. Just me and him.”
“Alone?”
“Alone.”
Harris considers it. I watch his eyes, flicking backwards and forwards over mine, like a ribbon-reader trying to load in its program.
I have no God to make peace with. I find it difficult to believe in goodness of any kind, in a world such as this.
I have no place here. No way to fit. I am the intercept - caught, in the middle, cryptic and understood only thinly, through devices and machines.
I put my ear down to the keyhole, but there’s nothing now. Probably still a guard outside, of course, but they’re keeping mum.
I lift the cup and take a sip, trying to act natural. He watches as I do so.
“Lapsang Souchong,” he remarks, placing his own cup down on the table with a clink. “Such a curious flavour. It might almost not be tea at all. You might say it hides a multitude of sins. As do you, isn’t that correct?”
“That’s not important now. What matters is what you do, this evening. All you have to do is go to the back of Hut 2. There’s a breeze-block with a cavity. That’s where I’ve put it. I’ll be locked up overnight, I should think. But you can pick it up and pass it to my contact. He’ll be at the south fence around two AM.”
“If you think I’ll do that then you’re crazy,” Hooper replies.
At that moment the door flies open and the Captain comes storming back inside.
Harris hustles me over to the barracks. “I hope that’s the end of it,” he mutters as he pushes me up the steps.
“Just be sure to let him out,” I reply. “And then see where he goes.”
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
The bunk has a solid metal frame, a blanket, a pillow, nothing more.
“Of my standing. My reputation.” I don’t like to talk of myself like this, but I carry on all the same. “Hooper simply can’t bear knowing that, once all this is over, I’ll be the one receiving the knighthood and he...”
“No-one will be getting a knighthood if the Germans invade,” Harris answers sharply. He casts a quick eye to the door of the Hut to check the latch is still down, then continues in more of a murmur: “Not you and not Hooper. Now answer me.” For the first time since the door closed, I wonder what the threat might be if I do not.
“Let’s get straight to the point. Do you have the component?” Harris demands. “Do you know where it is?”
“I know nothing about it.” My voice is shaking with anger as I try to speak. I’m not accustomed to facing off against the Commander - against any man with a gun in his holster. “I don’t know what gives you the right to pick on me. I demand a lawyer.”
“This is time of war,” Harris answers. His tone of voice has fallen down into darkness. “And by God, if I have to shoot you to recover the component or stop it falling into the wrong hands, I will, do you understand me?”
There’s an icy silence. He’s angry. He waves an impetuous hand across the field table.
“Now, drink your tea and talk.”
“Of my genius. Hooper simply can’t stand that I’m cleverer than he is. We work so closely together, cooped up in that Hut all day. It drives him to distraction. To worse.”
“You’re suggesting Hooper would sabotage this country’s future simply to spite you?” Harris chooses his words like the military man he is, each lining up to create a ring around me.
Quickly, I pull it free, and slip it into the pocket of my jacket.
Where now?
“No, Harris. The young man wasn’t blackmailing me.” I take a deep breath. “It was Hooper.”
“Hooper!” Harris exclaims, in surprise.
“It’s the truth, Harris. If I’m going to jail, then so be it, but I won’t hang at Traitor’s Gate. Hooper was the one who told the boy about our work. Hooper put the boy on to me. I should have realised, of course. These things don’t happen by chance. I was a fool to think they might. And then, once he had me compromised, he demanded I steal the part from the machine.”
“Which you did.” Harris leans forward. “And then what? You still have it? You put it somewhere?”
“Explain what you should be doing, do you mean, rather than bullying me? Certainly.” I fold my arms. “I know where your component is because it’s obvious where your component is. That doesn’t mean I took it, just because I can figure out a simple problem, any more than it means I’m a German spy because I can crack their codes.”
“Tell me, then,” he asks. “What’s your theory? You’re a smart fellow - as smart as they come around here, and that’s saying something. What’s your opinion on the missing component? Accident, perhaps? Or do you blame one of the other men? Hooper?”
The bucket? Hardly. The bucket might do some good if I wanted to sweep up the glass afterwards, but it won’t help me smash the glass quietly.
Enough of this. There isn’t any time to lose. Right now they’ll be following Hooper as he goes to bed, and goes to sleep; and then that’s it. The minute he closes his eyelids and drifts off that’s the moment that this trap swings shut on me.
So I punch out the glass with my bucket and it shatters with a terrific noise. Then I stop, and wait, to see if anyone will come in through the door.
Nothing.
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
“Please, Hooper. You don’t understand what’s at stake. They have information on me. What I’ve done. I don’t need to tell you what I’ve done, you know. I know you do. And I know you think it’s wrong, but please man, have a soul. They were going to ruin me. And the component - it’s nothing. It’s not the secret of the Bombe, or even of what we’re doing here. It’s just a part. The German’s think it’s a weapon - a missile component or a detonator. Let them have it! Please, man. Just help me.”
“Help you?” Hooper stares, as I have gone mad. “Help you? You’re a traitor, Iain. You’re a traitor. A snake in the grass. And you’re queer.”
Then pause. This is too transparent. Too blatant. If I leave it here, like this, Hooper will never be seen to go looking for it: he will stumble over it in plain sight, and the men watching will wonder why it was not there when he went to bed.
No, I must try something else - or nothing at all.
I have no God to make peace with. I find it difficult to believe in goodness of any kind, in a world such as this.
I have no place here. No way to fit. I am the intercept - caught, in the middle, cryptic and understood only thinly, through devices and machines.
“Really, Commander,” I reply. “It rather sounds like you want to spank me.”
“For God’s sake,” he declares with thick disgust, then swoops away out of the room. Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
“I’m no traitor, damn it. You know I’m not. How much work have I done here? Against the Germans? Cracking their codes? Understanding their secrets? I’ve given it my all! And you know as well as I do, if the Reich were to invade, I would be a dead man for being what I am. So please, Hooper. I’m not doing any of this lightly. But I’m in a jam!”
“Assuming I wanted to help you,” he replies, carefully. “Which I don’t. What would I do?”
“Nothing. Almost nothing.
All you have to do is go to the back of Hut 2. There’s a breeze-block with a cavity. That’s where I’ve put it. I’ll be locked up overnight, I should think. But you can pick it up and pass it to my contact. He’ll be at the south fence around two AM."
“If you think I’ll do that then you’re crazy,” Hooper replies.
At that moment the door flies open and the Captain comes storming back inside.
Harris hustles me over to the barracks. “I hope that’s the end of it,” he mutters as he pushes me up the steps.
“Just be sure to let him out,” I reply. “And then see where he goes.”
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
“I don’t think Hooper could have planned this in advance. So he’d need to get word to whoever he’s working with, and that would take time. So I think he would have hidden it somewhere, and be waiting to make sure I soundly take the fall. That way, if anything goes wrong, he can arrange for the part to be conveniently re-found.”
“Makes sense,” Harris agrees, cautiously. I can see he’s still not entirely convinced by my tale, as well he might not be - I’ve hardly been entirely straight with him. “Which means the question is, what can we do to rat him out?”
I go over to the window and try to jimmy it open. Not much luck, but in my struggling I notice this window only backs on the thin little brook that runs down the back of the compound. Which means, if I smashed it, I might get away with no-one seeing.
From outside, I hear a voice. Hooper’s. He’s haranguing someone, for something.
Morning comes slowly, but I must fall asleep at some point, because the next thing I know the rooster is calling and a cool, fresh breeze is blowing through the open window. I barely have time to wipe the sleep from my eyes and brush myself down before the door opens and Harris enters.
He takes one look around, and sighs, a deep, wistful sigh.
“Things just get worse and worse for you, Manning,” he remarks. “You are your own worst enemy.”
“I tell you, someone broke it. Someone wanted to threaten me, I think.”
Harris shakes his head. “Well, we can look into that matter later. For now, you probably want to hear the more pressing news. We found the missing component. Or rather, Hooper found it for us. He snuck out of his tent first thing in the morning and retrieved it from on top. Of all the damnest places - you would never have known it was there. He acted all surprised about it when we jumped him, of course, as you might expect - but it was good enough for me.”
I wait a few minutes, to be sure Hooper and the Captain will have gone, then try the door. It’s locked, all right. I’m not really one for picking locks. Never tried it. I don’t think I’ll be getting out that way.
“Very well. I see there’s no point in covering up. You know everything anyway.”
Harris nods, and waits for me to continue.
“There was a young man, Harris. I met him in the town. A few months ago now. We got to talking - not about work, you understand. I said I was an accountant for a firm, just as I was supposed to. Although he seemed to know that wasn’t true. That got me wondering if he wasn’t one of us.”
Harris is not letting me off any more. “You seriously considered that possibility?”
It won’t take a moment to settle the matter. I can justify a walk past Hut 2 as part of my morning stroll. It will be obvious in a moment if the component is still there.
On my way across the paddocks, between the huts and the House, I catch sight of young Miss Lyon, arriving for work on her bicycle. She giggles as she sees me and waves.
“So would you,” I reply tartly. Harris raises an eyebrow.
“I’ve been through worse than this,” he replies matter-of-factly. “It’s hardly my fault if you sleep in your clothes.”
I glare back at him.
He goes over to the window, unlocks it and throws it open, relishing the fresh air from outside. “Hooper’s confessed, you know.”
“So he’s an idiot, and he hid it in his shoe.”
“No,” Harris replies. “That isn’t really what I mean. I mean, he managed to find it, by accident, somewhere where it wasn’t the night before. And at the same time, you’re sitting here with your window broken. So, I rather think you’ve played your last hand and lost. There’s no way Hooper stole that component and then just left it lying around in the doorway of his tent. No way at all. So I came to tell you that the game is up for you.”
He nods and gets to his feet. Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
“Of my genius. Hooper simply can’t stand that I’m cleverer than he is. We work so closely together, cooped up in that Hut all day. It drives him to distraction. To worse.”
“You’re suggesting Hooper would sabotage this country’s future simply to spite you?” Harris chooses his words like the military man he is, each lining up to create a ring around me.
“No. I have no idea.”
He’s talking about the missing reel from the Bombe. Russell discovered it this afternoon when the machine began producing strange results. We were all in the Hut when it happened and it had been in place when we sat down to work. The conclusions had been obvious to all four of us immediately, but had gone undiscussed, even after the empty socket was located, the wiring torn on either side.
“Lucky these things are easy to replace,” Russell had remarked, and that had been that. We had stopped work, sent out for a new part to be machined. And drunk our tea and watched each other.
“Come now,” Harris says, quite the reasonable gent. “As I told you. We’re not interviewing everyone. Only you. So. I think you can be a little more forthcoming.”
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
“Try me. Just me and him.”
“Alone?”
“Alone.”
Harris considers it. I watch his eyes, flicking backwards and forwards over mine, like a ribbon-reader trying to load in its program.
“That’s exactly it,” I say quietly. “Harris. You understand. There are some things... which can get a man into a lot of trouble. Things one shouldn’t do.”
Harris, to his credit, doesn’t stiffen. He doesn’t lean away, or remove his hands from the table-top as though my condition might be infectious. I thought they trained them in the army to shoot my kind on sight but he does not.
Of course, he does not offer any sympathy either. He only nods, once. The understanding that has passed between us here is a mere turning cog in his calculations, with no meaning or righteousness to it.
“I’ve seen the same story a hundred times before,” he says. “A young man like yourself - clever, somewhat removed from the world. The kind that doesn’t go to parties, you might say. Who takes himself a little too seriously, perhaps. Takes things too far. Further than a man should allow a thing to go. That’s the story, isn’t it? You took things too far, and then you couldn’t take them back. And now they have you.”
“Harris, you’d better watch out. He’s planted a time-bomb here.”
Harris stares at me for a moment, then laughs. “Oh, goodness. That’s rich.”
I almost wish I had a way to make the hut explode, but of course I don’t.
“Enough.” Harris gestures for me to start walking. “This story couldn’t be simpler. You took it to cover your back. You hid it. You lied to get Hooper into trouble, and when you thought you’d won, you came to scoop your prize. A good hand but ultimately, if it hadn’t have been you who hid the component, then you wouldn’t be here now.”
He leads me across the yard. Back towards Hut 5 to be decoded, and taken to pieces, once again.
Enough of this place. Time for me to get moving. I can get to the train station on foot, catch the postal train to Scotland and be somewhere else before anyone realises that I’m gone.
Of course, then they’ll be looking for me in earnest. As a confirmed traitor.
“Yes. I didn’t have long, but I had long enough. The missing component of the Bombe computer is hidden in a small cavity in a breeze-block supporting the left rear post of Hut 2. I put in there anticipating a search. I intended to pass it to Hooper once the fuss had died down. I suppose I was foolish to think that it might.”
“Indeed you were. And, Mr Manning: God help you if you’re lying to me.”
Harris stands, and slips away smartly. Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
So perhaps I should wait it out, after all. Who knows? I might have a better opportunity later.
The rest of the night passes slowly. I sleep a little, dozing mostly. Then I’m woken by the rooster in the yard. The door opens, and Harris comes in. He takes one look at the broken window and frowns with puzzlement.
“What happened there?”
The bucket? Hardly. The bucket might do some good if I wanted to sweep up the glass afterwards, but it won’t help me smash the glass quietly.
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
“I’m not saying anything of the sort,” I snap back. “What is this, Harris? You’re accusing me of treachery but I don’t see a shred of evidence for it! Why don’t you put your cards on the table?”
“It’s simple enough,” Harris replies. “I’ve seen the same story a hundred times before,” he says. “A young man like yourself - clever, somewhat removed from the world. The kind that doesn’t go to parties, you might say. Who takes himself a little too seriously, perhaps. Takes things too far. Further than a man should allow a thing to go. That’s the story, isn’t it? You took things too far, and then you couldn’t take them back. And now they have you.”
“Only that this process is unreasonable, and I believe you’re behaving like a swine.”
“You imbecile,” Harris replies, with sudden force. He is half out of his chair. “You know the situation as well as I do, so why all this fencing? The Hun are poised like rats, ready to run all over this country. They’ll destroy everything, you do understand that, don’t you? You’re not so locked up inside your crossword puzzles that you don’t see that, are you? And this machine we have here - you men - you are the best and only hope this country has. God help her.”
I sit back, startled by the force of his outburst. His carefully sculpted expression has curled to angry disgust and there is spit flecking his lips. He really does hate me, I think. He’ll have my neck just for the taste of it.
Let me see. There’s the bunk, a bucket, nothing else. I have my jacket but nothing in the pockets - no handkerchief, for instance.
“I was quite certain, after a while. After we’d been talking. He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
“I can’t remember.”
He draws his gun and lays it lightly on the field table.
“I’m sorry to threaten you, friend. But His Majesty needs that brain of yours, and that brain alone. There are plenty of other parts to you that our country could do better without. Now I’ll ask you again. Did you hide the component?”
“Of course I do,” I answer.
The reel went missing from the Bombe this afternoon. The four of us were in the Hut at the time, working on the latest intercept. It was Russell who noticed the machine producing strange results and found the gap in its plugboard. But as to who took it - it could have been any of us.
And indeed, it must have been. The machine had been functioning as normal when we began our calculations. And then, a short few hours later, it was gone. We had to stop. There was nothing more we could do until it was replaced. The part was vital, just as the machine was vital, and so were the contents of the message, still unread twenty four hours later.
“Let’s get straight to the point. Do you have the component?” Harris demands. “Do you know where it is?”
There’s no time to lose. Throwing caution to the wind I make my way quickly to Hut 2, and around the back. I don’t think I’ve been followed, or seen but if I have, it’s too late. My actions are suspicious enough for anyone’s noose. I have no choice but to follow through.
The component is still there, wrapped in a tea-towel and shoved into a cavity in a breeze-block at the base of the Hut wall.
“No,” Harris declares, finally. “I think you’re lying about Hooper. I think you’re a clever, scheming young man - that’s why we hired you - and you’re looking for the only reasonable out this situation has to offer. But I’m not taking it. We know you were in the room with the machine, we know you’re of a perverted persuasion, we know you have compromised yourself. There’s nothing more to say here. Either you tell me what you’ve done with that component, or we will hang you and search just as hard. It’s your choice.”
He gets to his feet, and gathers his gloves from the table top.
“I’m going to go outside and organise a rope. That’ll take about twelve minutes. That’s how long you have to decide.”
I put my ear down to the keyhole, but there’s nothing now. Probably still a guard outside, of course, but they’re keeping mum.
“Someone threw this in through the window over night,” I reply, and open my jacket to reveal the component from the Bombe. “I couldn’t see who, it was too dark. But I know what it is.”
He reaches out and takes it. “Well, I’ll be damned,” he murmurs. “That’s it all right. And you didn’t have it on you when we put you in here. But it can’t have been Hooper - I had men watching him all night. And there’s no-one else it could have been.”
He turns the component over in his hands, bemused.
I suppose I do not believe they will hang me. They will lock me up and continue to use my brain, if they can. I wonder what they will tell the world - perhaps that I have taken my own life. That would be simplest. The few who know me would believe it.
Well, then. Not a bad existence, in prison. Removed from temptation. A kind of imposed monasticism, with plenty more problems to solve, and more mysteries to fathom.
I wonder what else I might yet unravel before I’m done?
I hang back a moment. Something does not seem quite right. After all, Hooper did not steal the component. He has no reason to confess to anything. Perhaps this is another trap?
“Well?” Harris asks. “What are you waiting for? Please don’t tell me you want to confess now as well, I don’t think my head could stand it.”
“All right,” he declares, gruffly. “We’ll try it. But if this doesn’t work, I might just put the both of you in front of a firing squad and be done with these games. Worse things happen in time of war, you know.”
“Alone,” I add.
“Alone?”
“Alone.”
Harris considers it. I watch his eyes, flicking backwards and forwards over mine, like a ribbon-reader trying to load in its program.
“Well?”
“We’ll be outside the door,” Harris replies, seriously. “The first sign of any funny business and we’ll have you both on the floor in minutes. You understand? The country needs your brain, but it’s not too worried about your legs. Remember that.”
Then he gets to his feet, and opens the door, and marches me out and across the yard. The evening is drawing in and there’s a chill in the air. My mind is racing. I have one opportunity here - a moment in which to put the fear of God into Hooper and make him do something foolish to place himself in harm’s way. But how to achieve it?
“You ready?” Harris demands.
“I’d be happy to help,” I answer, sympathetically, leaning forward across the table. “I’m sure there’s something I could do.”
“Like what, exactly?”
“I suppose I do rather.” I laugh, but Harris does not.
“This damn business gets worse and worse,” he says, talking as he goes over to unlock and throw open the window. “Hooper’s confessed, you know.”
I slip off my jacket and hold it with one hand over the glass. This should do it. Then I heft back my arm, and take a strong swing, trying to imagine it’s Harris’ face on the other side.
The sound of the impact is muffled. With my arm still covered, I sweep out the remaining glass in the frame. I’m ready to escape. The only trouble is - when they look in on me in the morning, there will be no question what has happened. It won’t help me one jot with shifting suspicion off my back.
“Then I’ll be going, on and getting on with my job of saving her, shall I?” I even rise half to my feet, before he slams the tabletop.
“Talk,” Harris demands. “Talk, now. Tell me where you’ve hidden it or who you’ve passed it to. Or God help me, but I’ll take your wretched pansy body to pieces looking for it, do you understand me?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
“I saw Hooper take it.”
“I see.” He is starting to lose his temper - I can see it in the creases of his face. I have seen Harris angry a few times, with lackeys and secretaries and the like, usually over things sent late or incorrectly. But never with us. With the “brains” he has always been so cautious, treating us like children. And now I see that, like a father, he wants only to smack us when we disobey him. “I wish you’d stop with your deceptions and get to the truth, man. Every minute matters.”
I say nothing, my lips tightly, firmly sealed. It’s true I am a traitor, to the very laws of nature. The world has taught me that since a very early age. But not to my country - should the Reich win this war, I would hardly be treated as an honoured hero. I was doomed from the very start.
I explain none of this. How could a man like Harris understand?
The Commander takes one look back from the doorway as he pulls it to.
“It’s been a pleasure working with you, Mr Manning,” he declares. “You’ve done a great service to this country. If we come through, I’m sure they’ll remember you name. I’m sorry it had to end this way and I’ll do my best to keep it quiet. No-one need know what you did.”
The Commander holds the door for his superior, and follows him out. Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
“Please, Hooper. You don’t understand what’s at stake. They have information on me. What I’ve done. I don’t need to tell you what I’ve done, you know. I know you do. And I know you think it’s wrong, but please man, have a soul. They were going to ruin me. And the component - it’s nothing. It’s not the secret of the Bombe, or even of what we’re doing here. It’s just a part. The German’s think it’s a weapon - a missile component or a detonator. Let them have it! Please, man. Just help me.”
“Help you?” Hooper stares, as I have gone mad. “Help you? You’re a traitor, Iain. You’re a traitor. A snake in the grass. And you’re queer.”
“I broke it,” I reply. There doesn’t seem any use in trying to lie. “I thought I could escape. But I couldn’t get myself through.”
The Commander laughs. “Shame,” he remarks. “I should have left that window open and put a guard on you. Might have been interesting to see where you went. Anyway, I’m glad you’re still here, even if you do smell like a dog.”
Work carefully? It’s difficult to work carefully when all one’s has is a bucket. It’s rather like the sledgehammer for the proverbial nut.
“What could I do?” I’m shaking now. The night is cold and the heat-lamp in this hut has been removed, presumably to keep me alert and on edge. “I don’t want to go to prison.”
“You committed a crime,” Harris answers. If I had any sense that he understood my predicament, and that he felt for my state of being, it collapses like a chain with a broken link. “You thought you could repair it with another, more serious crime?” He shakes his head. “I thought you men were supposed to be clever. But this is the action of a frightened woman. So I’d like you to tell me, now. Where is it?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
Work carefully? It’s difficult to work carefully when all one’s has is a bucket. It’s rather like the sledgehammer for the proverbial nut.
“Then you know I’m right. You knew all along. Why did you threaten me?”
“We don’t know anything, except that we have a traitor, holding the fate of the country in their hands. No-one here is in the business of guessing, you know that. Our business is to decode. To get to the bottom of whatever’s going on. You’ve not placed yourself beyond suspicion and until you do so...” Harris shrugs. “I’m afraid I have fewer and fewer choices as time goes on. If that component has left these grounds then every minute is critical.”
“You mean he confessed of his own accord? You didn’t catch him?”
“The Captain went back into that hut and he confessed immediately. We were so surprised we didn’t let you go.” He wrinkles his nose. “I’m rather sorry about that now, but I suppose we’ll let you go know. I suggest you have a wash.”
And with that he gestures to the doorway.
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
“I don’t think Hooper could have planned this in advance. So he’d need to get word to whoever he’s working with, and that would take time. So I think he would have hidden it somewhere, and be waiting to make sure I soundly take the fall. That way, if anything goes wrong, he can arrange for the part to be conveniently re-found.”
“Makes sense,” Harris agrees, cautiously. I can see he’s still not certain whether he can trust me. “Which means the question is, what can we do to rat him out?”
Moving quickly and quietly, I hoist myself up onto the window-frame and worm my way outside into the freezing night air. Then I’m away, slipping down the paths between the Huts, sticking to the shadows, on my way to Hut 2.
Work carefully? It’s difficult to work carefully when all one’s has is nothing but brute force.
I leave the cup exactly where it is. “Why?” I ask coldly. “What’s in it?”
“Lapsang Souchong,” he remarks, placing his own cup down on the table with a clink. “Such a curious flavour. It might almost not be tea at all. You might say it hides a multitude of sins. As do you, isn’t that correct?”
“Listen to me, Hooper. We were the only men in that hut today, so we know what happened. But I want you to know this. I put the component inside a breeze-block in the foundations of Hut 2, wrapped in one of your shirts. They’re going to find it eventually, and that’s going to be what tips the balance. And there’s nothing you can do to stop any of that from happening.”
His eyes bulge with terror. “What did I do, to you? What did I ever do?”
“I certainly don’t. But still, I’m surprised. I had Hooper down for a full-blown double agent, a traitor. He knows he’ll face the rope, doesn’t he?”
“Don’t ask me to explain why he did what he did,” Harris sighs. “Just be grateful that he did, and you’re now off the hook.”
Curiouser and curiouser. I nod once to Harris and slip outside into the cold morning air.
Hooper’s confession only makes sense in one fashion - if I successfully implied to him that I had him framed, but he did not unpack my little clue well enough to go looking for the component. Well, I had figured him for a more intelligent opponent, but a resignation from the game will suffice. Or perhaps he knew he would be followed if he went to check, and decided he would be doomed either way.
Of course, however, there is only one way to be certain that Harris is telling the truth, and that is to find a quiet moment and check the breeze-block at the back of Hut 2.
“All right. All right. That’s exactly what happened.”
“Shame,” he remarks. “I should have left that window open and put a guard on you. Might have been interesting to see where you went. Anyway, I’m glad you’re still here, even if you do smell like a dog.”
“You mean he didn’t even hide it? Just put it in his shoe?”
“No,” Harris replies. “That isn’t really what I mean. I mean, he managed to find it, by accident, somewhere where it wasn’t the night before. And at the same time, you’re sitting here with your window broken. So, I rather think you’ve played your last hand and lost. There’s no way Hooper stole that component and then just left it lying around in the doorway of his tent. No way at all. So I came to tell you that the game is up for you.”
He nods and gets to his feet. Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
“Here at Bletchley? Of course I do”
“Here, now,” Harris replies firmly. “We’re not talking to everyone, you understand. I can imagine you might feel pretty sore about that, old man. I can imagine you feeling picked on.”
I hop up the steps and put my head inside all the same. Nobody about. Still too early in the AM for sparks, I suppose.
I head on around the back of the hut. The breeze-block with the cavity is on the left side.
“We’re still in ear-shot if they let Hooper go. Best get us inside and then we can talk, if we must.”
“I’ve had enough of your voice for one day,” Harris replies grimly. He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
I wait a few minutes, to be sure the Commander will have gone, then try the door. It’s locked, all right. I’m not really one for picking locks. Never tried it. I don’t think I’ll be getting out that way.
From outside, I hear a voice. Hooper’s. He’s haranguing someone, for something.
“No, Harris. The young man wasn’t blackmailing me.” I take a deep breath. “It was Hooper.”
“Hooper!” Harris exclaims, in surprise.
“It’s the truth, Harris. If I’m going to jail, then so be it, but I won’t hang at Traitor’s Gate. Hooper was the one who told the boy about our work. Hooper put the boy on to me. And then, once he had me compromised, he demanded I steal the part from the machine.”
“Which you did.” Harris leans forward. “And then what? You still have it? You put it somewhere?”
“The component?”
“Yes,” Harris replies levelly. “The component that went missing this afternoon. I doubt that you’ve forgotten.”
He’s talking about the missing reel from the Bombe. Russell discovered it this afternoon when the machine began producing strange results. We were all in the Hut when it happened and it had been in place when we sat down to work. The conclusions had been obvious to all four of us immediately, but had gone undiscussed, even after the empty socket was located, the wiring torn on either side.
“Lucky these things are easy to replace,” Russell had remarked, and that had been that. We had stopped work, sent out for a new part to be machined. And drunk our tea and watched each other.
“Come now,” Harris says, quite the reasonable gent. “As I told you. We’re not interviewing everyone. Only you. So. I think you can be a little more forthcoming.”
“I’ll enjoy it. Thank you for helping me clear this up.”
“Don’t thank me yet. There’s still a war to fight. Now get a move on.”
I nod, and hurry out of the door. The air outside has never tasted fresher and more invigorating. I head for my dorm, intent on a bath, breakfast, a glance at the crossword before the other men get to it, and then on with work. They should have replaced the component in the Bombe by now. We will be back to it, only a day behind.
I bump into Russell in the dorm hut. “Did you hear?” he whispers. “Terrible news about Hooper. Absolutely terrible.”
I slip off my jacket and hold it with one hand over the glass. This should do it. Then I heft the bucket - this really is quite a fiddly thing to be doing, and I need far longer arms, especially in cuffs - and take a strong swing, trying to imagine it’s Harris’ face on the other side.
The sound of the impact is muffled. With my arm still covered, I sweep out the remaining glass in the frame. I’m ready to escape. The only trouble is - when they look in on me in the morning, there will be no question what has happened. It won’t help me one jot with shifting suspicion off my back.
“So would you,” I reply tartly. Harris raises an eyebrow.
“I’ve been through worse than this,” he replies matter-of-factly. “It’s hardly my fault if you sleep in your clothes.”
I glare back at him.
He goes over to the window, unlocks it and throws it open, relishing the fresh air from outside. “Hooper’s confessed, you know.”
I slip off my jacket and hold it with one hand over the glass. This should do it. Then I heft the bucket - this really is quite a fiddly thing to be doing, and I need far longer arms, especially in cuffs - and take a strong swing, trying to imagine it’s Harris’ face on the other side.
The sound of the impact is muffled. With my arm still covered, I sweep out the remaining glass in the frame. I’m ready to escape. The only trouble is - when they look in on me in the morning, there will be no question what has happened. It won’t help me one jot with shifting suspicion off my back.
The bunk has a solid metal frame, a blanket, a pillow, nothing more.
“So he’s an idiot, and he hid it in his shoe.”
“No,” Harris replies. “That isn’t really what I mean. I mean, he managed to find it, by accident, somewhere where it wasn’t the night before. And at the same time, you’re sitting here with your window broken. So, I rather think you’ve played your last hand and lost. There’s no way Hooper stole that component and then just left it lying around in the doorway of his tent. No way at all. So I came to tell you that the game is up for you.”
He nods and gets to his feet. Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
“I’d be happy to help,” I answer, sympathetically, leaning forward across the table. “I’m sure there’s something I could do.”
“Like what, exactly?”
Well, then. To Hooper’s dorm. Time to wrap up this little game once and for all.
I creep around the outside of the Huts. All are quiet, steel-grey in the hazy moonlight; a few shining copper from arc-lamps strung from the trees. A few guards patrol the area at night but not many - after all, very few know this place even exists.
Our quarters are arranged away from the House; where we sleep is of less importance than where we work. We each have our own Hut, through some are less permanent than other’s. Hooper’s is a military issue tent: quite a large canopy, with two rooms inside and a short porch area where he insists people leave their shoes. It’s all zipped up for the night and no light shines from inside.
I hang back for a moment. If Harris is keeping to the terms of our deal then someone will be watching this place. But I can see no-one.
“Well, then,” I answer, nervously. “What would he do? Either get rid of it straight away - or if that wasn’t possible, which it probably wouldn’t be, since he’d have to arrange things with his contacts - so most likely, he’d hide it somewhere and wait, until you had the rope around my neck and he could be sure he was safe.”
“Makes sense,” Harris agrees, cautiously. I can see he’s still not entirely convinced by my tale, as well he might not be - I’ve hardly been entirely straight with him. “Which means the question is, what can we do to rat him out?”
Still there means no-one has found it, which means it is probably well-hidden. And short of skipping the compound now, I can afford to leave it hidden there a while longer. So I leave it in place.
Where now?
“Yes. Something like that. It’s a very lonely life otherwise. And the work we do - well. It only makes it worse. There’s barely a moment to oneself.”
“That’s how it is in the Service,” Harris answers. “I know you didn’t sign up for it but, well. There’s plenty of other men who didn’t who are serving now, too. Now, go on with your confession.”
That gives me pause, for a moment. I hadn’t thought of it as such. But I suppose that’s what this is. I am about to admit what I did, after all.
“There’s not much else to say. I took the part from Bombe computing device. You seem to know that already. I had to. He was going to expose me if I didn’t.”
“This young man was blackmailing you over your affair?”
“I don’t know.”
“You can do better than that. Remember, there’s a hangman’s noose waiting for traitors.”
“Of my standing. My reputation.” I’m aware of how arrogant I must sound but I plough on all the same. “Hooper simply can’t bear knowing that, once all this is over, I’ll be the one receiving the knighthood and he...”
“No-one will be getting a knighthood if the Germans invade,” Harris answers sharply. He casts a quick eye to the door of the Hut to check the latch is still down, then continues in more of a murmur: “Not you and not Hooper. Now answer me.” For the first time since the door closed, I wonder what the threat might be if I do not.
“Let’s get straight to the point. Do you have the component?” Harris demands. “Do you know where it is?”
I go over to the window and try to jimmy it open. Not much luck, but in my struggling I notice this window only backs on the thin little brook that runs down the back of the compound. Which means, if I smashed it, I might get away with no-one seeing.
“For God’s sake, man, what do you have to lose?”
“We’ll be outside the door,” Harris replies, seriously. “The first sign of any funny business and we’ll have you both on the floor in minutes. You understand? The country needs your brain, but it’s not too worried about your legs. Remember that.”
Then he gets to his feet, and opens the door, and marches me out and across the yard. The evening is drawing in and there’s a chill in the air. My mind is racing. I have one opportunity here - a moment in which to put the fear of God into Hooper and make him do something foolish to place himself in harm’s way. But how to achieve it?
“You ready?” Harris demands.
“Try me. Just me and him.”
“Alone?”
“Alone.”
Harris considers it. I watch his eyes, flicking backwards and forwards over mine, like a ribbon-reader trying to load in its program.
“I’ll talk to him.”
“What?”
“Put me in with Hooper. Maybe I can get something useful out of him. As his colleague.”
Harris shakes his head. “He despises you, doesn’t he? I don’t see why he’d give himself up to you.”
Making a wide circuit I creep around the tent. It has plenty of other flaps and openings, tied down with Gordian complexity. But nothing afford itself to slipping the component inside.
After a chance like this? A chance - however real - to save my neck? To hand it over - what, to save Hooper’s worthless skin?
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
“Yes, I considered it. He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
“None of us are blameless, Harris. But I’ve done nothing to deserve this treatment. Now, please. Let me go. I’ll help you find this damn component, of course I will.”
He appears to consider the offer.
“Tell me, then,” he asks. “What’s your theory? You’re a smart fellow - as smart as they come around here, and that’s saying something. What’s your opinion on the missing component? Accident, perhaps? Or do you blame one of the other men? Hooper?”
“I always meant to tell you,” I tell him. “I thought perhaps I could find out who they were. Lead you to them.”
Harris looks at me with contempt. “You wretched little man. Don’t think your tongue will be able to get you out of trouble. You’re going to pay for what you’ve done, and you’re going to pay dearly. If a single man loses his life because of your pride and your perversions then God help your eternal soul. The fact is you committed a crime.” If I had any sense that he understood my predicament, and that he felt for my state of being, it collapses like a chain with a broken link. “You thought you could repair it with another, more serious crime?” He shakes his head. “I thought you men were supposed to be clever. But this is the action of a frightened woman. So I’d like you to tell me, now. Where is it?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
There’s no time to lose. Throwing caution to the wind I make my way quickly to Hut 2, and around the back. I don’t think I’ve been followed, or seen but if I have, it’s too late. My actions are suspicious enough for anyone’s noose. I have no choice but to follow through.
The component is still there, wrapped in a tea-towel and shoved into a cavity in a breeze-block at the base of the Hut wall.
“If I wanted to escape, I would have made damn sure that I could,” I tell him sternly.
“Well, I’m afraid it is going to get worse for you,” Harris replies soberly. “We followed Hooper, and he took himself neatly to bed and slept like a boy scout. Which puts us back to square one, and you firmly in the frame. And I’m afraid I don’t have time for any more games. I want you to tell me where that component is, or we will hang you as a traitor.”
He passes a hand across his eyes with a long look of despair.
“I’m going to go outside and organise a rope. That’ll take about twelve minutes. That’s how long you have to decide.”
I see. Perhaps you think I bullied the man into giving himself up. Perhaps he understood my little clue far enough to know it was a threat against him, but not well enough to understand where he should look to find it. So he took the easy route out and folded. Gave me the hand.
Hardly sporting, is that it?
I go over to the window and try to jimmy it open. Not much luck, but in my struggling I notice this window only backs on the thin little brook that runs down the back of the compound. Which means, if I smashed it, I might get away with no-one seeing.
From outside, I hear a voice. Hooper’s. He’s haranguing someone, for something.
Quickly, I pull it free, and slip it into the pocket of my jacket.
Where now?
The rest of the night passes slowly. I sleep a little, dozing mostly. Then I’m woken by the rooster in the yard. The door opens, and Harris comes in. He takes one look at the broken window and frowns with puzzlement.
“What happened there?”
Enough of this. There isn’t any time to lose. Right now they’ll be following Hooper as he goes to bed, and goes to sleep; and then that’s it. The minute he closes his eyelids and drifts off that’s the moment that this trap swings shut on me.
So I punch out the glass with my bucket and it shatters with a terrific noise. Then I stop, and wait, to see if anyone will come in through the door.
Nothing.
The bucket? Hardly. The bucket might do some good if I wanted to sweep up the glass afterwards, but it won’t help me smash the glass quietly.
“No. I passed it on to Hooper.”
“I see. And what did he do with it?”
I hang back a moment. Something does not seem quite right. After all, Hooper did not steal the component. He has no reason to confess to anything. Perhaps this is another trap?
“Well?” Harris asks. “What are you waiting for? Please don’t tell me you want to confess now as well, I don’t think my head could stand it.”
I go over to the window and try to jimmy it open. Not much luck, but in my struggling I notice this window only backs on the thin little brook that runs down the back of the compound. Which means, if I smashed it, I might get away with no-one seeing.
“I’ve done nothing that I’m ashamed of.”
“Tell me, then,” he asks. “What’s your theory? You’re a smart fellow - as smart as they come around here, and that’s saying something. What’s your opinion on the missing component? Accident, perhaps? Or do you blame one of the other men?”
“I am what I am,” I reply. “I’m the way nature made me. But they’re going to hang me unless you help me, Hooper. Don’t let them hang me.”
“Assuming I wanted to help you,” he replies, carefully. “Which I don’t. What would I do?”
“Nothing. Almost nothing.
All you have to do is go to the back of Hut 2. There’s a breeze-block with a cavity. That’s where I’ve put it. I’ll be locked up overnight, I should think. But you can pick it up and pass it to my contact. He’ll be at the south fence around two AM."
“If you think I’ll do that then you’re crazy,” Hooper replies.
At that moment the door flies open and the Captain comes storming back inside.
Harris hustles me over to the barracks. “I hope that’s the end of it,” he mutters as he pushes me up the steps.
“Just be sure to let him out,” I reply. “And then see where he goes.”
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
“I don’t know.”
“You can do better than that. Remember, there’s a hangman’s noose waiting for traitors.”
I peer out of the window, but it looks out onto the little brook at the back of the compound, with no view of the other huts or the House. Who knows if there are men up, searching the base of Hut 2, following one another with flashlights...
The night draws on at its own pace. I suppose by morning I will know my fate.
The blanket. Perfect. I scoop it up off the bed and hold it in place over the window. This should do it. Then I heft my shoe by its toe, and take a strong swing, trying to imagine it’s Harris’ face on the other side.
The sound of the impact is muffled. With my arm still covered, I sweep out the remaining glass in the frame. I’m ready to escape. The only trouble is - when they look in on me in the morning, there will be no question what has happened. It won’t help me one jot with shifting suspicion off my back.
“An accident, naturally.” I risk a smile. “That damned machine, Harris; it’s made from spare parts and string. Even these huts leak when it rains. It wouldn’t take more than one fellow to trip over a cable to shake out a component and have it roll away across the floor. Have you tried looking under the thing?”
Harris doesn’t smile. “Do you suppose we haven’t? Do you supposed we haven’t combed every inch of this place already?”
In a sudden moment I understand that his reply is a threat.
“Now,” he continues. “Are you sure there isn’t anything you want to tell me?”
“I’m no traitor,” I answer smartly.
He stares back at me. “Let’s get straight to the point. Do you have the component?” Harris demands. “Do you know where it is?”
“I don’t see why,” I reply, sipping at my tea as if we were the best of friends.
His gaze is unexpressive: I’ve seen Harris broad and full of laughter, but today he is rigid, as much part of the military machine as the devices in Hut 5.
“I’m sorry to pull you up so roughly,” he says. “But you know why you’re here, of course.”
Work carefully? It’s difficult to work carefully when all one’s has is a bucket. It’s rather like the sledgehammer for the proverbial nut.
“I had to get out, Harris. I had to provoke Hooper into doing something that would incriminate himself fully. He’s too clever, you see...”
“Be quiet, man. We know all about your and your sordid affairs.” The Captain curls his lip. “Don’t you know there’s a war on? Do you know the kind of place they would have sent you if it haven’t had been for that brain of yours? Don’t you think you owe it to your country to use it a little more?”
Do I, I wonder? Do I owe this country anything, this country that has spurned who and what am I since the day I became a man?
“I climbed out of the window overnight,” I explain. “I went and got this from where it was hidden, and brought it back here.”
“This is all too far-fetched,” Harris says. “I’m glad to have this back, but I need to think.”
Getting to his feet, he nods once. “You’ll have to wait a little longer, I’m afraid, Manning.”
Then he steps out of the door, muttering to himself.
But of course I will. A little vengeance, disguised as doing something good.
Harris put the cuffs around my wrists. “I still have the intercept in my pocket,” I remark. “Wherever we’re going, could I have a pencil?”
He looks me in the eye.
“Certainly. And one of your computing things, if I get my way. And when we’re old, and smoking pipes together in The Rag like heroes, I’ll explain to you the way that decent men have affairs. You scientists.” He drags me up to my feet. “You think you have to re-invent everything.”
With that, he hustles me out of the door and I can’t help thinking that, with a little more strategy, I could still have won the day. But too late now, of course.
It’s no good. Nothing I can do will be any less than obvious - something appearing where something was not there before. The men watching Hooper will know it is a deception and Hooper’s protestations will be taken at face value.
If I can’t find a way for Hooper to pick the component up, as if from a hiding place of his own devising, and be caught doing it, then I have no plan at all.
I shrug, eloquently.
“This is all too far-fetched,” Harris says. “I’m glad to have this back, but I need to think.”
Getting to his feet, he nods once. “You’ll have to wait a little longer, I’m afraid, Manning.”
Then he steps out of the door, muttering to himself.
“No. I passed it on to Hooper.”
“I see. And what did he do with it?”
“You want me to tell you what happened? You’ll be disgusted, I’m quite sure.”
“I can imagine how it starts,” he growls.
“There was a young man, Harris. I met him in the town. A few months ago now. We got to talking - not about work. I said I was an accountant for a firm, just as I was supposed to. Although he seemed to know that wasn’t true. That got me wondering if he wasn’t one of us.”
Harris is not letting me off any more. “You seriously considered that possibility?”
“What could I do?” I’m shaking now. The night is cold and the heat-lamp in this hut has been removed, presumably to keep me alert and on edge. “I don’t want to go to prison.”
“You committed a crime,” Harris answers. If I had any sense that he understood my predicament, and that he felt for my state of being, it collapses like a chain with a broken link. “You thought you could repair it with another, more serious crime?” He shakes his head. “I thought you men were supposed to be clever. But this is the action of a frightened woman. So I’d like you to tell me, now. Where is it?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
Enough of this. There isn’t any time to lose. Right now they’ll be following Hooper as he goes to bed, and goes to sleep; and then that’s it. The minute he closes his eyelids and drifts off that’s the moment that this trap swings shut on me.
So I punch out the glass with my fist and it shatters with a terrific noise. Then I stop, and wait, to see if anyone will come in through the door.
Nothing.
“I always meant to tell you,” I tell him. “I thought perhaps I could find out who they were. Lead you to them.”
Harris looks at me with contempt. “You wretched little man. Don’t think your tongue will be able to get you out of trouble. You’re going to pay for what you’ve done, and you’re going to pay dearly. If a single man loses his life because of your pride and your perversions then God help your eternal soul. The fact is you committed a crime.” If I had any sense that he understood my predicament, and that he felt for my state of being, it collapses like a chain with a broken link. “You thought you could repair it with another, more serious crime?” He shakes his head. “I thought you men were supposed to be clever. But this is the action of a frightened woman. So I’d like you to tell me, now. Where is it?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
“No. Not for more than a moment, of course. Everyone here is marked out by how little we would be willing to say about it.”
“Only you told this young man more than a little, didn’t you?”
I nod. “He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
I have a single moment to shout something to Hooper before the door closes.
“I’ll get you Hooper, you’ll see!” I cry. Then:
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
I look in through the door and catch Hooper’s expression. I had half expected him to be smiling be he isn’t. He looks shocked, almost hurt. “Iain,” he murmurs. “You couldn’t...”
The Captain comes outside, pulling the door to. “What’s this?” he asks. “A confession? Just like that?”
“No,” the Commander admits, in a low voice. “I’m afraid not. Rather more a scheme. The idea is to let Hooper go and see what he does. If he believes we have Manning here in irons, he’ll try to shift the component.”
“If he has it.”
“Indeed.”
The Captain peers at me for a moment, like I was some kind of curious insect.
“Sometimes, I think you people are magicians,” he remarks. “Other times you seem more like witches. Very well.”
With that he opens the door to the Hut and goes back inside. The Commander uses the moment to hustle me roughly forward.
“This scheme of yours had better come off,” he hisses in my ear. “Otherwise the Captain is going to start having men tailing me to see where I go on Saturdays.”
“I’m no traitor,” I answer smartly.
He stares back at me. “Let’s get straight to the point. Do you have the component?” Harris demands. “Do you know where it is?”
“I know nothing about it.” My voice is shaking with anger as I try to speak. I’m not accustomed to facing off against the Commander - against any man with a gun in his holster. “I don’t know what gives you the right to pick on me. I demand a lawyer.”
“This is time of war,” Harris answers. His tone of voice has fallen down into darkness. “And by God, if I have to shoot you to recover the component or stop it falling into the wrong hands, I will, do you understand me?”
There’s an icy silence. He’s angry at my slippery answers. He waves an impetuous hand across the field table.
“Now, drink your tea and talk.”
If I leave the component here somewhere it should be somewhere I can rely on Hooper finding it, but no-one before Hooper. In particular.
“I don’t know what gives you the right to pick on me. I demand a lawyer.”
“This is time of war,” Harris answers. His tone of voice has fallen down into darkness. “And by God, if I have to shoot you to recover the component or stop it falling into the wrong hands, I will, do you understand me?”
There’s an icy silence. He’s angry. He waves an impetuous hand across the field table.
“Now, drink your tea and talk.”
“No. It’s not treason. It’s a trade, plain and simple.”
“If you think I’ll do that then you’re crazy,” Hooper replies.
At that moment the door flies open and the Captain comes storming back inside.
Harris hustles me over to the barracks. “I hope that’s the end of it,” he mutters as he pushes me up the steps.
“Just be sure to let him out,” I reply. “And then see where he goes.”
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
The bucket? Hardly. The bucket might do some good if I wanted to sweep up the glass afterwards, but it won’t help me smash the glass quietly.
“Yes. Something like that. It’s a very lonely life otherwise. And the work we do - well. It only makes it worse. There’s barely a moment to oneself.”
“That’s how it is in the Service,” Harris answers. “I know you didn’t sign up for it but, well. There’s plenty of other men who didn’t who are serving now, too. Now, go on with your confession.”
That gives me pause, for a moment. I hadn’t thought of it as such. But I suppose that’s what this is. I am about to admit what I did, after all.
“There’s not much else to say. I took the part from Bombe computing device. You seem to know that already. I had to. He was going to expose me if I didn’t.”
“This young man was blackmailing you over your affair?”
It depends, perhaps, on what his name his worth. If it were to prove valuable, well; perhaps I can concoct a few more such lovers with which to ease my later days.
“We recovered the part, just where you said it was,” Harris reports, as he puts the cuffs around my wrists. “Of course, a couple of the men swear blind they searched there yesterday, so I’m afraid, what with the broken window... we’ve formed a perfectly good theory which doesn’t bode well for you.”
“I see.” It doesn’t seem worth arguing any further. “I still have the intercept in my pocket,” I remark. “Wherever we’re going, could I have a pencil?”
He looks me in the eye.
“Certainly. And one of your computing things, if I get my way. And when we’re old, and smoking pipes together in The Rag like heroes, I’ll explain to you the way that decent men have affairs. You scientists.” He drags me up to my feet. “You think you have to re-invent everything.”
With that, he hustles me out of the door and I can’t help thinking that, with a little more strategy, I could still have won the day. But too late now, of course.
“You’re right.” I shake my head. “You’re right. I don’t see how I can help you after all. So, there’s only one conclusion.”
“Oh, yes? And what’s that?”
“It’s your problem. Your security breach. So much for your careful vetting process.” I lean back in my chair and fold my arms so the way they shake will not be visible. “You’d better get on with solving it, instead of wasting your time in here with me.”
Harris harrumphs. He’s thinking it all over.
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
“You want me to tell you what happened? You’ll be disgusted, I’m quite sure.”
“I can imagine how it starts,” he growls.
“There was a young man, Harris. I met him in the town. A few months ago now. We got to talking - not about work. I said I was an accountant for a firm, just as I was supposed to. Although he seemed to know that wasn’t true. That got me wondering if he wasn’t one of us.”
Harris is not letting me off any more. “You seriously considered that possibility?”
“Queen to rook two, checkmate!” I call, then laugh viciously, as if I am damning him straight to hell.
I only catch Hooper’s reaction for a moment - his eyebrow lifts in surprise and alarm. Good. If he thinks it is a threat then he just might be careless enough to go looking for what it might mean.
The Captain comes outside, pulling the door to. “What’s this?” he asks. “A confession? Just like that?”
“No,” the Commander admits, in a low voice. “I’m afraid not. Rather more a scheme. The idea is to let Hooper go and see what he does. If he believes we have Manning here in irons, he’ll try to shift the component.”
“If he has it.”
“Indeed.”
The Captain peers at me for a moment, like I was some kind of curious insect.
“Sometimes, I think you people are magicians,” he remarks. “Other times you seem more like witches. Very well.”
With that he opens the door to the Hut and goes back inside. The Commander uses the moment to hustle me roughly forward.
“And what was all that shouting about?” he hisses in my ear as we move towards the barracks. “Are you trying to pull something? Or just make me look incompetent?”
I say nothing. It’s true, isn’t it? I can’t deny that I know there is a world out there, a complicated world of pain and suffering. And I can’t deny that I don’t think about it a moment longer than I have to. What use is thinking on a problem that cannot be solved? It is precisely our ability to avoid such endless spirals that makes us human and not machine.
“God have mercy on your soul,” Harris says finally, as he gets to his feet and heads for the door. “I fear no-one else will.” Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
“I don’t know.”
“You can do better than that. Remember, there’s a hangman’s noose waiting for traitors.”
“None of us are blameless, Harris. But I’ve done nothing to deserve this treatment. Now, please. Let me go. I’ll help you find this damn component, of course I will.”
He appears to consider the offer.
“Tell me, then,” he asks. “What’s your theory? You’re a smart fellow - as smart as they come around here, and that’s saying something. What’s your opinion on the missing component? Accident, perhaps? Or do you blame one of the other men?”
“When you have eliminated the impossible...” I begin, but Harris cuts me off.
“We are left with two possibilities, quite clearly. You, or Hooper.” The Commander pauses to smooth down his moustache. “Hooper’s in Hut 3 with the Captain, having a similar conversation.”
I peer out of the window, but it looks out onto the little brook at the back of the compound, with no view of the other huts or the House. Who knows if there are men up, searching the base of Hut 2, following one another with flashlights...
The night draws on at its own pace. I suppose by morning I will know my fate.
I cast around the small room. There’s a bucket in one corner for emergencies - I suppose I could use that. I pick it up but it’s not very easy to heft. And the noise would be terrible. There must be a way of making this easier. I’m supposed to be a thief now. What would a burglar do?
I open my mouth to disagree, but somehow the words will not come out. It is like Harris has taken a screwdriver to the sides of my jaw. My tongue feels thick and heavy.
“I suppose so,” I reply. “I’ve certainly done things I regret. Things I shouldn’t have done.”
“I see,” Harris answers. “You’ve left yourself open. To pressure. Is that what you’re saying?”
I have no God to make peace with. I find it difficult to believe in goodness of any kind, in a world such as this.
I have no place here. No way to fit. I am the intercept - caught, in the middle, cryptic and understood only thinly, through devices and machines.
“You mean he confessed of his own accord? You didn’t catch him?”
“The Captain went back into that hut and he confessed immediately. We were so surprised we didn’t let you go.” He wrinkles his nose. “I’m rather sorry about that now, but I suppose we’ll let you go know. I suggest you have a wash.”
And with that he gestures to the doorway.
I put my ear to the keyhole but can make out nothing. Are there still guards posted? Perhaps, if Hooper has managed to incriminate himself, the guards have been removed?
Perhaps the door is unlocked and they left me to sleep? I try the handle. No such luck.
The night draws on at its own pace. I suppose by morning I will know my fate.
“I’m not sure. I was asleep: I woke up when someone broke the window. I looked out to see who it was, but they were already gone.”
Harris looks at me with puzzlement. “Someone came by to break the window, and then ran off? That’s absurd. That’s utterly absurd. Admit it, Manning. You tried to escape and you couldn’t get through.”
“I know nothing about it.” My voice is shaking with anger as I try to speak. I’m not accustomed to facing off against the Commander - against any man with a gun in his holster. “I don’t know what gives you the right to pick on me. I demand a lawyer.”
“This is time of war,” Harris answers. His tone of voice has fallen down into darkness. “And by God, if I have to shoot you to recover the component or stop it falling into the wrong hands, I will, do you understand me?”
There’s an icy silence. He’s angry. He waves an impetuous hand across the field table.
“Now, drink your tea and talk.”
“The component?”
“Yes,” Harris replies levelly. “The component that went missing this afternoon. I doubt that you’ve forgotten.”
He’s talking about the missing reel from the Bombe. Russell discovered it this afternoon when the machine began producing strange results. We were all in the Hut when it happened and it had been in place when we sat down to work. The conclusions had been obvious to all four of us immediately, but had gone undiscussed, even after the empty socket was located, the wiring torn on either side.
“Lucky these things are easy to replace,” Russell had remarked, and that had been that. We had stopped work, sent out for a new part to be machined. And drunk our tea and watched each other.
“Come now,” Harris says, quite the reasonable gent. “As I told you. We’re not interviewing everyone. Only you. So. I think you can be a little more forthcoming.”
“No. I didn’t.”
“This is all too far-fetched,” Harris says. “I’m glad to have this back, but I need to think.”
Getting to his feet, he nods once. “You’ll have to wait a little longer, I’m afraid, Manning.”
Then he steps out of the door, muttering to himself.
“Well?”
“We’ll be outside the door,” Harris replies, seriously. “The first sign of any funny business and we’ll have you both on the floor in minutes. You understand? The country needs your brain, but it’s not too worried about your legs. Remember that.”
Then he gets to his feet, and opens the door, and marches me out and across the yard. The evening is drawing in and there’s a chill in the air. My mind is racing. I have one opportunity here - a moment in which to put the fear of God into Hooper and make him do something foolish to place himself in harm’s way. But how to achieve it?
“You ready?” Harris demands.
Quickly, I pull it free, and slip it into the pocket of my jacket.
Where now?
“Please, Hooper. You don’t understand what’s at stake. They have information on me. What I’ve done. I don’t need to tell you what I’ve done, you know. I know you do. And I know you think it’s wrong, but please man, have a soul. They were going to ruin me. And the component - it’s nothing. It’s not the secret of the Bombe, or even of what we’re doing here. It’s just a part. The German’s think it’s a weapon - a missile component or a detonator. Let them have it! Please, man. Just help me.”
“Help you?” Hooper stares, as I have gone mad. “Help you? You’re a traitor, Iain. You’re a traitor. A snake in the grass. And you’re queer.”
“We’re still in ear-shot if they let Hooper go. Best get us inside and then we can talk, if we must.”
“I’ve had enough of your voice for one day,” Harris replies grimly. He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. I can only hope that Hooper bites on my baited hook. If he thinks I’m mad and bitter enough to have framed him somehow, and arrogant enough to have taunted him with a clue to where the damning evidence is hidden... if he hates me enough, and is paranoid enough, then he might unravel my little riddle and go searching around Hut 2.
Thinking back, I should have wrapped the part from the Bombe in one of his shirts before hiding it, that would have been a clever move. I really do make a terrible spy.
I have a single moment to shout something to Hooper before the door closes.
“I’ll get you Hooper, you’ll see!” I cry. Then:
“Very well. I see there’s no point in covering up. You know everything anyway.”
Harris nods, and waits for me to continue.
“There was a young man, Harris. I met him in the town. A few months ago now. We got to talking - not about work, you understand. I said I was an accountant for a firm, just as I was supposed to. Although he seemed to know that wasn’t true. That got me wondering if he wasn’t one of us.”
Harris is not letting me off any more. “You seriously considered that possibility?”
“Yes, I considered it. He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
“Well, I’m glad his conscience finally caught up with him,” I reply dismissively.
“The Captain went back into that hut and he confessed immediately. We were so surprised we didn’t let you go.” He wrinkles his nose. “I’m rather sorry about that now, but I suppose we’ll let you go know. I suggest you have a wash.”
And with that he gestures to the doorway.
It’s no good. That’s only half a solution. I couldn’t be happy with that.
I see. Perhaps you think I bullied the man into giving himself up. Perhaps he understood my little clue far enough to know it was a threat against him, but not well enough to understand where he should look to find it. So he took the easy route out and folded. Gave me the hand.
Hardly sporting, is that it?
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
“I don’t know what gives you the right to pick on me. Shouldn’t I have a lawyer?”
“This is time of war,” Harris answers. His tone of voice has fallen down into darkness. “And by God, if I have to shoot you to recover the component or stop it falling into the wrong hands, I will, do you understand me?”
There’s an icy silence. He’s angry. He waves an impetuous hand across the field table.
“Now, drink your tea and talk.”
The blanket. Perfect. I scoop it up off the bed and hold it in place over the window. This should do it. Then I heft the bucket - this really is quite a fiddly thing to be doing, and I need far longer arms, especially in cuffs - and take a strong swing, trying to imagine it’s Harris’ face on the other side.
The sound of the impact is muffled. With my arm still covered, I sweep out the remaining glass in the frame. I’m ready to escape. The only trouble is - when they look in on me in the morning, there will be no question what has happened. It won’t help me one jot with shifting suspicion off my back.
“Someone threw this in through the window over night,” I reply, and open my jacket to reveal the component from the Bombe. “I couldn’t see who, it was too dark. But I know what it is.”
He reaches out and takes it. “Well, I’ll be damned,” he murmurs. “That’s it all right. And you didn’t have it on you when we put you in here. But it can’t have been Hooper - I had men watching him all night. And there’s no-one else it could have been.”
He turns the component over in his hands, bemused.
I have in my head to blame Hooper, but somehow I cannot find a way to tell the story. Whatever they put in my tea, it has control of my tongue. I find myself collapsing, desperate to tell him everything, almost weeping with the shame of it.
“There was a young man, Harris. I met him in the town. A few months ago now. We got to talking - not about work, you understand. I said I was an accountant for a firm, just as I was supposed to. Although he seemed to know that wasn’t true. That got me wondering if he wasn’t one of us.”
Harris is not letting me off any more. “You seriously considered that possibility?”
I go over to the window and try to jimmy it open. Not much luck, but in my struggling I notice this window only backs on the thin little brook that runs down the back of the compound. Which means, if I smashed it, I might get away with no-one seeing.
From outside, I hear a voice. Hooper’s. He’s haranguing someone, for something.
I slide the component into the tent, work the zip closed, and move quickly away into the shadows. It takes a few minutes for my breath to slow, and my heart to stop hammering, but I see no other movement. If anyone is watching Hooper’s tent, they are asleep at their posts.
Satisfied, I return the short way up the paths between the huts to the barrack block and the broken window.
It’s a little harder getting back through - the window is higher off the ground than the floor inside - but after a decent bit of jumping and hauling I manage to get my elbows up, and then one leg, and finally I collapse inside, quite winded and out breath.
I slip off my jacket and hold it with one hand over the glass. This should do it. Then I heft back my arm, and take a strong swing, trying to imagine it’s Harris’ face on the other side.
The sound of the impact is muffled. With my arm still covered, I sweep out the remaining glass in the frame. I’m ready to escape. The only trouble is - when they look in on me in the morning, there will be no question what has happened. It won’t help me one jot with shifting suspicion off my back.
Enough of this place. Time for me to get moving. I can get to the train station on foot, catch the postal train to Scotland and be somewhere else before anyone realises that I’m gone.
Of course, then they’ll be looking for me in earnest. As a confirmed traitor.
“I’m looking forward to having a wash and a change of clothes; which should make a little less evil to be around.”
“Very droll,” he replies. “Let me tell you what happened this morning, and see if it takes the smile off your face. Our men watching Hooper’s tent saw Hooper wake up, get dressed, clamber out of his tent and then remark with surprise as, while looking for his shoes, he stumbled on something just at the entrance of his tent.”
“Really, Commander,” I reply. “It rather sounds like you want to spank me.”
“For God’s sake,” he declares with thick disgust, then swoops away out of the room. Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
I shrug, eloquently.
“This is all too far-fetched,” Harris says. “I’m glad to have this back, but I need to think.”
Getting to his feet, he nods once. “You’ll have to wait a little longer, I’m afraid, Manning.”
Then he steps out of the door, muttering to himself.
“I’m looking forward to having a wash and a change of clothes; which should make a little less evil to be around.”
“Very droll,” he replies. “Let me tell you what happened this morning, and see if it takes the smile off your face. Our men watching Hooper’s tent saw Hooper wake up, get dressed, clamber out of his tent and then remark with surprise as, while looking for his shoes, he stumbled on something just at the entrance of his tent.”
“All right.” I am beaten, after all. “The missing component of the Bombe computer is hidden in a small cavity in a breeze-block supporting the left rear post of Hut 2. I put in there anticipating a search. I intended to dispose of it once the fuss had died down. I suppose I was foolish to think that it might.”
“Indeed you were. And, Mr Manning: God help you if you’re lying to me.”
Harris stands, and slips away smartly. The Commander holds the door for his superior, and follows him out. Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
I wait a few minutes, to be sure the Commander will have gone, then try the door. It’s locked, all right. I’m not really one for picking locks. Never tried it. I don’t think I’ll be getting out that way.
From outside, I hear a voice. Hooper’s. He’s haranguing someone, for something.
I say nothing. It’s true, isn’t it? I can’t deny that I know there is a world out there, a complicated world of pain and suffering. And I can’t deny that I don’t think about it a moment longer than I have to. What use is thinking on a problem that cannot be solved? It is precisely our ability to avoid such endless spirals that makes us human and not machine.
“God have mercy on your soul,” Harris says finally, as he gets to his feet and heads for the door. “I fear no-one else will.” Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
I say nothing. It’s true, isn’t it? I can’t deny that I know there is a world out there, a complicated world of pain and suffering. And I can’t deny that I don’t think about it a moment longer than I have to. What use is thinking on a problem that cannot be solved? It is precisely our ability to avoid such endless spirals that makes us human and not machine.
“God have mercy on your soul,” Harris says finally, as he gets to his feet and heads for the door. “I fear no-one else will.” Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
Let me see. There’s the bunk, a bucket, nothing else. I have my jacket but nothing in the pockets - no handkerchief, for instance.
“I broke it,” I reply. There doesn’t seem any use in trying to lie. “I thought I could escape. But I couldn’t get myself through.”
The Commander laughs. “Shame,” he remarks. “I should have left that window open and put a guard on you. Might have been interesting to see where you went. Anyway, I’m glad you’re still here, even if you do smell like a dog.”
“I don’t know what gives you the right to pick on me. I demand a lawyer.”
“This is time of war,” Harris answers. His tone of voice has fallen down into darkness. “And by God, if I have to shoot you to recover the component or stop it falling into the wrong hands, I will, do you understand me?”
There’s an icy silence. He’s angry. He waves an impetuous hand across the field table.
“Now, drink your tea and talk.”
Well, then. To Hooper’s dorm. Time to wrap up this little game once and for all.
I creep around the outside of the Huts. All are quiet, steel-grey in the hazy moonlight; a few shining copper from arc-lamps strung from the trees. A few guards patrol the area at night but not many - after all, very few know this place even exists.
Our quarters are arranged away from the House; where we sleep is of less importance than where we work. We each have our own Hut, through some are less permanent than other’s. Hooper’s is a military issue tent: quite a large canopy, with two rooms inside and a short porch area where he insists people leave their shoes. It’s all zipped up for the night and no light shines from inside.
I hang back for a moment. If Harris is keeping to the terms of our deal then someone will be watching this place. But I can see no-one.
“Yes. Probably under my bunk.”
Harris smiles wryly. “We’ll know that for a fake, then. We’ve looked there already. I don’t mind telling you, this is a disaster, this whole thing. What I want is to find that little bit of mechanical trickery anywhere. I don’t care where. In your luncheon box or under Hooper’s pillow, whatever. Just somewhere, and within the grounds of this place.”
It’s no good. Nothing I can do will be any less than obvious - something appearing where something was not there before. The men watching Hooper will know it is a deception and Hooper’s protestations will be taken at face value.
If I can’t find a way for Hooper to pick the component up, as if from a hiding place of his own devising, and be caught doing it, then I have no plan at all.
“I know nothing about it.” My voice is shaking as I try to speak. I’m not accustomed to facing off against the Commander - against any man with a gun in his holster. “I don’t know what gives you the right to pick on me. Shouldn’t I have a lawyer?”
“This is time of war,” Harris answers. His tone of voice has fallen down into darkness. “And by God, if I have to shoot you to recover the component or stop it falling into the wrong hands, I will, do you understand me?”
There’s an icy silence. He’s angry. He waves an impetuous hand across the field table.
“Now, drink your tea and talk.”
Let me see. There’s the bunk, nothing else. I have my jacket but nothing in the pockets - no handkerchief, for instance.
I creep forward to the tent, intent on lifting the zip to the front porch area just a little - enough to slip the component inside, and without the risk of the noise waking Hooper from his snoring.
The work is careful, and more than little fiddly - Hooper has tied the zips down on the inside, the fastidious little bastard! - but after a little work I manage to make a hole large enough for my hand.
“You want me to tell you what happened? You’ll be disgusted, I’m quite sure.”
“I can imagine how it starts,” he growls.
“There was a young man, Harris. I met him in the town. A few months ago now. We got to talking - not about work. I said I was an accountant for a firm, just as I was supposed to. Although he seemed to know that wasn’t true. That got me wondering if he wasn’t one of us.”
Harris is not letting me off any more. “You seriously considered that possibility?”
Work carefully? It’s difficult to work carefully when all one’s has is nothing but brute force.
“What could I do?” I’m shaking now. The night is cold and the heat-lamp in this hut has been removed, presumably to keep me alert and on edge. “I won’t go to prison.”
“You committed a crime,” Harris answers. If I had any sense that he understood my predicament, and that he felt for my state of being, it collapses like a chain with a broken link. “You thought you could repair it with another, more serious crime?” He shakes his head. “I thought you men were supposed to be clever. But this is the action of a frightened woman. So I’d like you to tell me, now. Where is it?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
I wait a few minutes, to be sure the Commander will have gone, then try the door. It’s locked, all right. I’m not really one for picking locks. Never tried it. I don’t think I’ll be getting out that way.
From outside, I hear a voice. Hooper’s. He’s haranguing someone, for something.
“Try me. Just me and him.”
“Alone?”
“Alone.”
Harris considers it. I watch his eyes, flicking backwards and forwards over mine, like a ribbon-reader trying to load in its program.
“How should I know?” I reply, defensively. “All I can say is, ever since I arrived here, he’s been looking to ways to bring me down a peg. I wouldn’t be surprised if he set this whole affair up just to have me court-martialled.”
“We don’t court-martial civilians,” Harris replies. “Traitors are simply hung at her Majesty’s pleasure.”
“Quite terrible. I would never have guessed.”
“Well.” Russell harrumphs. “Quince was saying this morning, apparently his grandfather was German. So perhaps it’s to be expected. See you there?”
I wave to him and move away, my thoughts turning to the young man in the village. My lover. My contact. My blackmailer. Hooper may have taken the fall for the missing component, but if it was his recovering it from Hut 2 then I have nothing to sell to save my reputation, if I have any left.
If he didn’t, of course, and Harris was telling the truth about his sudden confession, then I will be able to buy my freedom once and for all.
“Then let him think he’s off the hook. Make a show of me. And then you’ll get your man.”
Somehow, I think. But that’s the part I need to work.
Harris gets to his feet. “All right,” he says. “I should no better than to trust a clever man, but we’ll give it a go.” Then, he smiles, with all his teeth, like a wolf. “Hooper’s in Hut 3 being debriefed by the Captain. Let’s see if we can’t get his attention somehow.”
He raps on the door for the guard and gives the man a quick instruction. He returns a moment later with a cool pair of iron cuffs.
“Put ‘em up,” Harris instructs, and I do so. The metal closes around my wrists like a trap. I stand and follow Harris willingly out through the door.
But whatever I’m doing with my body, my mind is scheming. Somehow, I’m thinking, I have to get away from these men long enough to get that component behind Hut 2 and put it somewhere Hooper will go. Or, otherwise, somehow get Hooper to go there himself...
Harris marches me over to Hut 3, and gestures for the guard to stand aside. Pushing me forward, he opens the door nice and wide.
“Captain. Manning talked. If you’d step out for a moment?”
The bunk has a solid metal frame, a blanket, a pillow, nothing more.
“Heard what?”
“Hooper’s been taken away. They caught him, uncovering that missing Bombe component from a hiding place somewhere, apparently about to take it to his contact.” Russell harrumphs. “Quince was saying this morning, apparently his grandfather was German. So perhaps it’s to be expected. See you there?”
I wave to him and move away, my thoughts turning to the young man in the village. My lover. My contact. My blackmailer. Hooper may have taken the fall for the missing component, but its recovery does mean I have nothing to sell to save my reputation, if I have any left.
It’s useless. There’s nothing I can do but hope. I sit down on one corner of the bunk to wait.
Night falls. The clockwork of the heavens keeps turning, whatever state I might be in. No-one can steal the components that make the sun go down and the stars come out. I watch it performing its operations. I can’t sleep.
“I’m not sure. I was asleep: I woke up when someone broke the window. I looked out to see who it was, but they were already gone.”
Harris looks at me with puzzlement. “Someone came by to break the window, and then ran off? That’s absurd. That’s utterly absurd. Admit it, Manning. You tried to escape and you couldn’t get through.”
Making a wide circuit I creep around the tent. It has plenty of other flaps and openings, tied down with Gordian complexity. But nothing afford itself to slipping the component inside.
“I’m looking forward to a long bath,” I reply. “And getting back to work.”
“Well, I’m afraid it is going to get worse for you,” Harris replies soberly. “We followed Hooper, and he took himself neatly to bed and slept like a boy scout. Which puts us back to square one, and you firmly in the frame. And I’m afraid I don’t have time for any more games. I want you to tell me where that component is, or we will hang you as a traitor.”
He passes a hand across his eyes with a long look of despair.
“I’m going to go outside and organise a rope. That’ll take about twelve minutes. That’s how long you have to decide.”
“I can’t remember.”
He draws his gun and lays it lightly on the field table.
“I’m sorry to threaten you, friend. But His Majesty needs that brain of yours, and that brain alone. There are plenty of other parts to you that our country could do better without. Now I’ll ask you again. Did you hide the component?”
I slip off my jacket and hold it with one hand over the glass. This should do it. Then I heft my shoe by its toe, and take a strong swing, trying to imagine it’s Harris’ face on the other side.
The sound of the impact is muffled. With my arm still covered, I sweep out the remaining glass in the frame. I’m ready to escape. The only trouble is - when they look in on me in the morning, there will be no question what has happened. It won’t help me one jot with shifting suspicion off my back.
I pat down my pockets but all I’m carrying is the intercept, which is no good at all.
I wait a few minutes, to be sure Hooper and the Captain will have gone, then try the door. It’s locked, all right. I’m not really one for picking locks. Never tried it. I don’t think I’ll be getting out that way.
“No.”
“Too bad.” Harris opens the door and pushes me inside. “Captain,” he calls. “Could I have a moment?”
The Captain, looking puzzled, steps out. The door is closed. Hooper stares at me, open-mouthed, about to say something. I probably have less than a minute before the Captain storms back in and declares this plan to be bunkum.
“So would you after the night I’ve had.”
“Well, I’m afraid it is going to get worse for you,” Harris replies soberly. “We followed Hooper, and he took himself neatly to bed and slept like a boy scout. Which puts us back to square one, and you firmly in the frame. And I’m afraid I don’t have time for any more games. I want you to tell me where that component is, or we will hang you as a traitor.”
He passes a hand across his eyes with a long look of despair.
“I’m going to go outside and organise a rope. That’ll take about twelve minutes. That’s how long you have to decide.”
I wait a few minutes, to be sure the Commander will have gone, then try the door. It’s locked, all right. I’m not really one for picking locks. Never tried it. I don’t think I’ll be getting out that way.
From outside, I hear a voice. Hooper’s. He’s haranguing someone, for something.
“I was quite certain, after a while. After we’d been talking. He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
“Then let him think he’s off the hook. Make a show of me. And then you’ll get your man.”
Somehow, I think. But that’s the part I need to work.
Harris gets to his feet. “All right,” he says. “I should no better than to trust a clever man, but we’ll give it a go.” Then, he smiles, with all his teeth, like a wolf. “Especially since this is a plan that involves keeping you in handcuffs. I don’t see what I have to lose.”
He raps on the door for the guard and gives the man a quick instruction. He returns a moment later with a cool pair of iron cuffs.
“Put ‘em up,” Harris instructs, and I do so. The metal closes around my wrists like a trap. I stand and follow Harris willingly out through the door.
But whatever I’m doing with my body, my mind is scheming. Somehow, I’m thinking, I have to get away from these men long enough to get that component behind Hut 2 and put it somewhere Hooper will go. Or, otherwise, somehow get Hooper to go there himself...
Harris marches me over to Hut 3, and gestures for the guard to stand aside. Pushing me forward, he opens the door nice and wide.
“Captain. Manning talked. If you’d step out for a moment?”
“Perhaps Hooper had an accomplice. Someone else who works on site.”
Harris shakes his head, distractedly. “That doesn’t make sense,” he says. “Why go to all the trouble of stealing it only to give it back? And why like this?”
“Yes, perhaps. But also to ensure your name goes down in the annals of mathematics. All you have to do is go to the back of Hut 2. There’s a breeze-block with a cavity. That’s where I’ve put it. I’ll be locked up overnight, I should think. But you can pick it up and pass it to my contact. He’ll be at the south fence around two AM.”
“If you think I’ll do that then you’re crazy,” Hooper replies.
At that moment the door flies open and the Captain comes storming back inside.
Harris hustles me over to the barracks. “I hope that’s the end of it,” he mutters as he pushes me up the steps.
“Just be sure to let him out,” I reply. “And then see where he goes.”
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
“I am what I am,” I reply. “I’m the way nature made me. But they’re going to hang me unless you help me, Hooper. Don’t let them hang me.”
“Assuming I wanted to help you,” he replies, carefully. “Which I don’t. What would I do?”
“Nothing. Almost nothing.
All you have to do is go to the back of Hut 2. There’s a breeze-block with a cavity. That’s where I’ve put it. I’ll be locked up overnight, I should think. But you can pick it up and pass it to my contact. He’ll be at the south fence around two AM."
“If you think I’ll do that then you’re crazy,” Hooper replies.
At that moment the door flies open and the Captain comes storming back inside.
Harris hustles me over to the barracks. “I hope that’s the end of it,” he mutters as he pushes me up the steps.
“Just be sure to let him out,” I reply. “And then see where he goes.”
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
The bucket? Hardly. The bucket might do some good if I wanted to sweep up the glass afterwards, but it won’t help me smash the glass quietly.
“You want me to tell you what happened? You’ll be disgusted, I’m quite sure.”
“I can imagine how it starts,” he growls.
“There was a young man, Harris. I met him in the town. A few months ago now. We got to talking - not about work. I said I was an accountant for a firm, just as I was supposed to. Although he seemed to know that wasn’t true. That got me wondering if he wasn’t one of us.”
Harris is not letting me off any more. “You seriously considered that possibility?”
Enough of this place. Time for me to get moving. I can get to the train station on foot, catch the postal train to Scotland and be somewhere else before anyone realises that I’m gone.
Of course, then they’ll be looking for me in earnest. As a confirmed traitor.
I see. Perhaps you think I bullied the man into giving himself up. Perhaps he understood my little clue far enough to know it was a threat against him, but not well enough to understand where he should look to find it. So he took the easy route out and folded. Gave me the hand.
Hardly sporting, is that it?
“Awkward,” I reply, sipping at my tea as if we were the best of friends.
His gaze is unexpressive: I’ve seen Harris broad and full of laughter, but today he is rigid, as much part of the military machine as the devices in Hut 5.
“I’m sorry to pull you up so roughly,” he says. “But you know why you’re here, of course.”
The bunk has a solid metal frame, a blanket, a pillow, nothing more.
“I’ll talk to him.”
“What?”
“Put me in with Hooper. Maybe I can get something useful out of him. As his colleague.”
Harris shakes his head. “He despises you, doesn’t he? I don’t see why he’d give himself up to you.”
“Of my genius. Hooper simply can’t stand that I’m cleverer than he is. We work so closely together, cooped up in that Hut all day. It drives him to distraction. To worse.”
“You’re suggesting Hooper would sabotage this country’s future simply to spite you?” Harris chooses his words like the military man he is, each lining up to create a ring around me.
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
“It’s not that bad. I can still fix it.”
Harris shakes his head. “This isn’t a problem to be cracked. This isn’t a puzzle. I’m sorry, but this is bigger than you now. Look. You can go to prison for what you’ve done, or we can change your identity and move you somewhere where your... indiscretions... can’t hurt anyone any more. But right now none of that matters. What happens to you, doesn’t matter. All that matters is where that component is. So I’d like you to tell me, now. Where is it?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
“I’m not sure. I was asleep: I woke up when someone broke the window. I looked out to see who it was, but they were already gone.”
Harris looks at me with puzzlement. “Someone came by to break the window, and then ran off? That’s absurd. That’s utterly absurd. Admit it, Manning. You tried to escape and you couldn’t get through.”
“I don’t know.”
“You can do better than that. Remember, there’s a hangman’s noose waiting for traitors.”
“Well?”
“We’ll be outside the door,” Harris replies, seriously. “The first sign of any funny business and we’ll have you both on the floor in minutes. You understand? The country needs your brain, but it’s not too worried about your legs. Remember that.”
Then he gets to his feet, and opens the door, and marches me out and across the yard. The evening is drawing in and there’s a chill in the air. My mind is racing. I have one opportunity here - a moment in which to put the fear of God into Hooper and make him do something foolish to place himself in harm’s way. But how to achieve it?
“You ready?” Harris demands.
The bunk has a solid metal frame, a blanket, a pillow, nothing more.
“I don’t know what gives you the right to pick on me. Shouldn’t I have a lawyer?”
“This is time of war,” Harris answers. His tone of voice has fallen down into darkness. “And by God, if I have to shoot you to recover the component or stop it falling into the wrong hands, I will, do you understand me?”
There’s an icy silence. He’s angry at my slippery answers. He waves an impetuous hand across the field table.
“Now, drink your tea and talk.”
The window is my only way out of here. I just need a way to smash it.
“If you’ll excuse me, Russell. I was about to take a bath.”
“Oh, of course. Well, you’ll hear soon enough. Can hardly hide the fact there’ll only be three of us from now on.”
I wave to him and move away, my thoughts turning to the young man in the village. My lover. My contact. My blackmailer. Hooper may have taken the fall for the missing component, but if it was his recovering it from Hut 2 then I have nothing to sell to save my reputation.
If he didn’t, of course, and Harris was telling the truth about his sudden confession, then I will be able to buy my freedom once and for all.
“Damn right I’m sore. Was it one of the others who put you up to this? Was it Hooper? He’s always been jealous of me. He’s...”
The Commander moustache bristles as he purses his lips. “Has he now? Of your achievements, do you think?” It’s difficult not to shake the sense that he’s mocking me. “Or of your brain? Or something else?”
I wait a few minutes, to be sure Hooper and the Captain will have gone, then try the door. It’s locked, all right. I’m not really one for picking locks. Never tried it. I don’t think I’ll be getting out that way.
“I know nothing about it.” My voice is shaking as I try to speak. I’m not accustomed to facing off against the Commander - against any man with a gun in his holster. “I don’t know what gives you the right to pick on me. Shouldn’t I have a lawyer?”
“This is time of war,” Harris answers. His tone of voice has fallen down into darkness. “And by God, if I have to shoot you to recover the component or stop it falling into the wrong hands, I will, do you understand me?”
There’s an icy silence. He’s angry. He waves an impetuous hand across the field table.
“Now, drink your tea and talk.”
I slip off my jacket and hold it with one hand over the glass. This should do it. Then I heft the bucket - this really is quite a fiddly thing to be doing, and I need far longer arms, especially in cuffs - and take a strong swing, trying to imagine it’s Harris’ face on the other side.
The sound of the impact is muffled. With my arm still covered, I sweep out the remaining glass in the frame. I’m ready to escape. The only trouble is - when they look in on me in the morning, there will be no question what has happened. It won’t help me one jot with shifting suspicion off my back.
Let me see. There’s the bunk, nothing else. I have my jacket but nothing in the pockets - no handkerchief, for instance.
“That’s not important now. What matters is what you do, this evening. All you have to do is go to the back of Hut 2. There’s a breeze-block with a cavity. That’s where I’ve put it. I’ll be locked up overnight, I should think. But you can pick it up and pass it to my contact. He’ll be at the south fence around two AM.”
“If you think I’ll do that then you’re crazy,” Hooper replies.
At that moment the door flies open and the Captain comes storming back inside.
Harris hustles me over to the barracks. “I hope that’s the end of it,” he mutters as he pushes me up the steps.
“Just be sure to let him out,” I reply. “And then see where he goes.”
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
“No, Harris. The young man wasn’t blackmailing me.” I take a deep breath. “It was Hooper.”
“Hooper!” Harris exclaims, in surprise.
“It’s the truth, Harris. If I’m going to jail, then so be it, but I won’t hang at Traitor’s Gate. Hooper was the one who told the boy about our work. Hooper put the boy on to me. And then, once he had me compromised, he demanded I steal the part from the machine.”
“Which you did.” Harris leans forward. “And then what? You still have it? You put it somewhere?”
I put my ear down to the keyhole, but there’s nothing now. Probably still a guard outside, of course, but they’re keeping mum.
“For God’s sake, man, what do you have to lose?”
“We’ll be outside the door,” Harris replies, seriously. “The first sign of any funny business and we’ll have you both on the floor in minutes. You understand? The country needs your brain, but it’s not too worried about your legs. Remember that.”
Then he gets to his feet, and opens the door, and marches me out and across the yard. The evening is drawing in and there’s a chill in the air. My mind is racing. I have one opportunity here - a moment in which to put the fear of God into Hooper and make him do something foolish to place himself in harm’s way. But how to achieve it?
“You ready?” Harris demands.
“I know nothing about it.” My voice is shaking with anger as I try to speak. I’m not accustomed to facing off against the Commander - against any man with a gun in his holster. “I don’t know what gives you the right to pick on me. I demand a lawyer.”
“This is time of war,” Harris answers. His tone of voice has fallen down into darkness. “And by God, if I have to shoot you to recover the component or stop it falling into the wrong hands, I will, do you understand me?”
There’s an icy silence. He’s angry at my slippery answers. He waves an impetuous hand across the field table.
“Now, drink your tea and talk.”
I wait a few minutes, to be sure Hooper and the Captain will have gone, then try the door. It’s locked, all right. I’m not really one for picking locks. Never tried it. I don’t think I’ll be getting out that way.
“No,” Harris declares, finally. “I think you’re lying about Hooper. I think you’re a clever, scheming young man - that’s why we hired you - and you’re looking for the only reasonable out this situation has to offer. But I’m not taking it. We know you were in the room with the machine, we know you’re of a perverted persuasion, we know you have compromised yourself. There’s nothing more to say here. Either you tell me what you’ve done with that component, or we will hang you and search just as hard. It’s your choice.”
He gets to his feet, and gathers his gloves from the table top.
“I’m going to go outside and organise a rope. That’ll take about twelve minutes. That’s how long you have to decide.”
“No, Harris. The young man wasn’t blackmailing me.” I take a deep breath. “It was Hooper.”
“Hooper!” Harris exclaims, in surprise.
“It’s the truth, Harris. If I’m going to jail, then so be it, but I won’t hang at Traitor’s Gate. Hooper was the one who told the boy about our work. Hooper put the boy on to me. And then, once he had me compromised, he demanded I steal the part from the machine.”
“Which you did.” Harris leans forward. “And then what? You still have it? You put it somewhere?”
“All right,” he declares, gruffly. “We’ll try it. But if this doesn’t work, I might just put the both of you in front of a firing squad and be done with these games. Worse things happen in time of war, you know.”
“Alone,” I add.
“Alone?”
“Alone.”
Harris considers it. I watch his eyes, flicking backwards and forwards over mine, like a ribbon-reader trying to load in its program.
“Heard what?”
“Hooper’s been taken away. They caught him, uncovering that missing Bombe component from a hiding place somewhere, apparently about to take it to his contact.” Russell harrumphs. “Quince was saying this morning, apparently his grandfather was German. So perhaps it’s to be expected. See you there?”
I wave to him and move away, my thoughts turning to the young man in the village. My lover. My contact. My blackmailer. Hooper may have taken the fall for the missing component, but its recovery does mean I have nothing to sell to save my reputation.
“You want me to tell you what happened? You’ll be disgusted, I’m quite sure.”
“I can imagine how it starts,” he growls.
“There was a young man, Harris. I met him in the town. A few months ago now. We got to talking - not about work. I said I was an accountant for a firm, just as I was supposed to. Although he seemed to know that wasn’t true. That got me wondering if he wasn’t one of us.”
Harris is not letting me off any more. “You seriously considered that possibility?”
I shake my head violently, to say no, that’s not it, but whatever is wrong with tongue is wrong with neck too. I look across at the table at Harris’ face and realise with a start how sympathetic he is. Such a kind, generous man. How can I hold anything back from him?
I take another mouthful of the bitter, strange-tasting tea before answering.
“That’s exactly it,” I say quietly. “Harris. You understand. There are some things... which can get a man into a lot of trouble. Things one shouldn’t do.”
Harris, to his credit, doesn’t stiffen. He doesn’t lean away, or remove his hands from the table-top as though my condition might be infectious. I thought they trained them in the army to shoot my kind on sight but he does not.
Of course, he does not offer any sympathy either. He only nods, once. The understanding that has passed between us here is a mere turning cog in his calculations, with no meaning or righteousness to it.
“I’ve seen the same story a hundred times before,” he says. “A young man like yourself - clever, somewhat removed from the world. The kind that doesn’t go to parties, you might say. Who takes himself a little too seriously, perhaps. Takes things too far. Further than a man should allow a thing to go. That’s the story, isn’t it? You took things too far, and then you couldn’t take them back. And now they have you.”
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
“The component?”
“Yes,” Harris replies levelly. “The component that went missing this afternoon. I doubt that you’ve forgotten.”
He’s talking about the missing reel from the Bombe. Russell discovered it this afternoon when the machine began producing strange results. We were all in the Hut when it happened and it had been in place when we sat down to work. The conclusions had been obvious to all four of us immediately, but had gone undiscussed, even after the empty socket was located, the wiring torn on either side.
“Lucky these things are easy to replace,” Russell had remarked, and that had been that. We had stopped work, sent out for a new part to be machined. And drunk our tea and watched each other.
“Come now,” Harris says, quite the reasonable gent. “As I told you. We’re not interviewing everyone. Only you. So. I think you can be a little more forthcoming.”
Next. To Hooper’s dorm. Time to wrap up this little game once and for all.
I creep around the outside of the Huts. All are quiet, steel-grey in the hazy moonlight; a few shining copper from arc-lamps strung from the trees. A few guards patrol the area at night but not many - after all, very few know this place even exists.
Our quarters are arranged away from the House; where we sleep is of less importance than where we work. We each have our own Hut, through some are less permanent than other’s. Hooper’s is a military issue tent: quite a large canopy, with two rooms inside and a short porch area where he insists people leave their shoes. It’s all zipped up for the night and no light shines from inside.
I hang back for a moment. If Harris is keeping to the terms of our deal then someone will be watching this place. But I can see no-one.
“Ask not for whom the bell tolls!”
He stares back at me, as if were a madman and perhaps for a split second I see him shudder.
The Captain comes outside, pulling the door to. “What’s this?” he asks. “A confession? Just like that?”
“No,” the Commander admits, in a low voice. “I’m afraid not. Rather more a scheme. The idea is to let Hooper go and see what he does. If he believes we have Manning here in irons, he’ll try to shift the component.”
“If he has it.”
“Indeed.”
The Captain peers at me for a moment, like I was some kind of curious insect.
“Sometimes, I think you people are magicians,” he remarks. “Other times you seem more like witches. Very well.”
With that he opens the door to the Hut and goes back inside. The Commander uses the moment to hustle me roughly forward.
“And what was all that shouting about?” he hisses in my ear as we move towards the barracks. “Are you trying to pull something? Or just make me look incompetent?”
“Yes, I considered it. He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
“If I wanted to escape, I would have made damn sure that I could,” I tell him sternly.
“Well, I’m afraid it is going to get worse for you,” Harris replies soberly. “We followed Hooper, and he took himself neatly to bed and slept like a boy scout. Which puts us back to square one, and you firmly in the frame. And I’m afraid I don’t have time for any more games. I want you to tell me where that component is, or we will hang you as a traitor.”
He passes a hand across his eyes with a long look of despair.
“I’m going to go outside and organise a rope. That’ll take about twelve minutes. That’s how long you have to decide.”
If I leave the component here somewhere it should be somewhere I can rely on Hooper finding it, but no-one before Hooper. In particular.
The bucket? Hardly. The bucket might do some good if I wanted to sweep up the glass afterwards, but it won’t help me smash the glass quietly.
“No. I didn’t.”
“This is all too far-fetched,” Harris says. “I’m glad to have this back, but I need to think.”
Getting to his feet, he nods once. “You’ll have to wait a little longer, I’m afraid, Manning.”
Then he steps out of the door, muttering to himself.
“What could I do?” I’m shaking now. The night is cold and the heat-lamp in this hut has been removed, presumably to keep me alert and on edge. “I don’t want to go to prison.”
“You committed a crime,” Harris answers. If I had any sense that he understood my predicament, and that he felt for my state of being, it collapses like a chain with a broken link. “You thought you could repair it with another, more serious crime?” He shakes his head. “I thought you men were supposed to be clever. But this is the action of a frightened woman. So I’d like you to tell me, now. Where is it?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
I settle down to wait.
Night falls. The clockwork of the heavens keeps turning, whatever state I might be in. No-one can steal the components that make the sun go down and the stars come out. I watch it performing its operations. I can’t sleep.
“No. It’s not treason. It’s a trade, plain and simple.”
“If you think I’ll do that then you’re crazy,” Hooper replies.
At that moment the door flies open and the Captain comes storming back inside.
Harris hustles me over to the barracks. “I hope that’s the end of it,” he mutters as he pushes me up the steps.
“Just be sure to let him out,” I reply. “And then see where he goes.”
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
I go over to the window and try to jimmy it open. Not much luck, but in my struggling I notice this window only backs on the thin little brook that runs down the back of the compound. Which means, if I smashed it, I might get away with no-one seeing.
“All right.” With a sigh, your defiance collapses."If you’re searched my things then I suppose you’ve found my letters. Haven’t you? In fact, if you haven’t, don’t tell me.
Harris nods once. “I’ve seen the same story a hundred times before,” he says. “A young man like yourself - clever, somewhat removed from the world. The kind that doesn’t go to parties, you might say. Who takes himself a little too seriously, perhaps. Takes things too far. Further than a man should allow a thing to go. That’s the story, isn’t it? You took things too far, and then you couldn’t take them back. And now they have you.”
But of course I will. A little vengeance, disguised as doing something good.
“We recovered the part, just where you said it was,” Harris reports, as he puts the cuffs around my wrists. “Of course, a couple of the men swear blind they searched there yesterday, so I’m afraid, what with the broken window... we’ve formed a perfectly good theory which doesn’t bode well for you.”
“I see.” It doesn’t seem worth arguing any further. “I still have the intercept in my pocket,” I remark. “Wherever we’re going, could I have a pencil?”
He looks me in the eye.
“Certainly. And one of your computing things, if I get my way. And when we’re old, and smoking pipes together in The Rag like heroes, I’ll explain to you the way that decent men have affairs. You scientists.” He drags me up to my feet. “You think you have to re-invent everything.”
With that, he hustles me out of the door and I can’t help thinking that, with a little more strategy, I could still have won the day. But too late now, of course.
Quickly, I pull it free, and slip it into the pocket of my jacket.
Where now?
If I leave the component here somewhere it should be somewhere I can rely on Hooper finding it, but no-one before Hooper. In particular.
“Tell Hooper I’ve confessed. In fact, better yet, let him see you march me off in handcuffs. Then let him go, and watch him. Ten to one he’ll go straight to wherever he’s hidden that component and his game will be up.”
Harris nods slowly, chewing over the idea. It isn’t a bad plan even - except, of course, Hooper has not hidden the component, and won’t lead them anywhere. But that’s a problem I might be able to solve once I’m out of this place; and once they’re busy, dogging Hooper’s steps from hut to hut.
“It’s an interesting idea,” the Commander muses. “But I’m not so sure he’ll be that stupid. And if he’s already passed the part on, well, the whole thing will only be a waste of time.”
“No. Not for more than a moment, of course. Everyone here is marked out by how little we would be willing to say about it.”
“Only you told this young man more than a little, didn’t you?”
I nod. “He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
“I know where it is.”
Harris stares back at me.
“I see.” There’s a long pause, like the endless delay between feeding in a line of cypher to the Bombe and waiting for its valves and cylinders to heat up enough to being processing. “Would you like to explain?”
“No. Not for more than a moment, of course. Everyone here is marked out by how little we would be willing to say about it.”
“Only you told this young man more than a little, didn’t you?”
I nod. “He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
“Yes. Something like that. It’s a very lonely life otherwise. And the work we do - well. It only makes it worse. There’s barely a moment to oneself.”
“That’s how it is in the Service,” Harris answers. “I know you didn’t sign up for it but, well. There’s plenty of other men who didn’t who are serving now, too. Now, go on with your confession.”
That gives me pause, for a moment. I hadn’t thought of it as such. But I suppose that’s what this is. I am about to admit what I did, after all.
“There’s not much else to say. I took the part from Bombe computing device. You seem to know that already. I had to. He was going to expose me if I didn’t.”
“This young man was blackmailing you over your affair?”
The window is my only way out of here. I just need a way to smash it.
The bunk has a solid metal frame, a blanket, a pillow, nothing more.
There is nothing I can do to speed up time. The night draws on at its own pace. I suppose by morning I will know my fate.
“All right. All right. That’s exactly what happened.”
“Shame,” he remarks. “I should have left that window open and put a guard on you. Might have been interesting to see where you went. Anyway, I’m glad you’re still here, even if you do smell like a dog.”
After a chance like this? A chance - however real - to save my neck? To hand it over - what, to save Hooper’s worthless skin?
“There’s nothing to explain,” I reply stiffly. “I know where your component is because it’s obvious where your component is. That doesn’t mean I took it, just because I can figure out a simple problem, any more than it means I’m a German spy because I can crack their codes.”
“Tell me, then,” he asks. “What’s your theory? You’re a smart fellow - as smart as they come around here, and that’s saying something. What’s your opinion on the missing component? Accident, perhaps? Or do you blame one of the other men?”
Work carefully? It’s difficult to work carefully when all one’s has is a shoe.
“You mean he confessed of his own accord? You didn’t catch him?”
“The Captain went back into that hut and he confessed immediately. We were so surprised we didn’t let you go.” He wrinkles his nose. “I’m rather sorry about that now, but I suppose we’ll let you go know. I suggest you have a wash.”
And with that he gestures to the doorway.
“No, I don’t. I’ve got work I should be doing tomorrow, and I need my rest...”
“Work that will be difficult for you to do, don’t you think?” Harris replies.
“They’ll have made a replacement by tomorrow,” I reply. “The war doesn’t stop over one missing reel.”
The reel went missing from the Bombe this afternoon. The four of us were in the Hut at the time, working on the latest intercept. It was Russell who noticed the machine producing strange results and found the gap in its plugboard. But as to who took it - it could have been any of us.
And indeed, it must have been. The machine had been functioning as normal when we began our calculations. And then, a short few hours later, it was gone. We had to stop. There was nothing more we could do until it was replaced. The part was vital, just as the machine was vital, and so were the contents of the message, still unread twenty four hours later.
“Let’s get straight to the point. Do you have the component?” Harris demands. “Do you know where it is?”
“I did. I know what you’re thinking. If I’ve transgressed once then I must be the guilty man for all the crimes in this compound... But I’m not, I tell you. We were close to cracking the 13th’s missive; trying our latest pattern and beginning to see some correlations in the data - and then Hooper disappeared for a moment and the machine went down.”
I have become, somehow, an accustomed liar - the words roll easily off my tongue. Perhaps I am a traitor, I think, now that I dissemble as easily as one.
“Go on,” Harris says, giving me no indication of whether he believes my tale.
The blanket. Perfect. I scoop it up off the bed and hold it in place over the window. This should do it. Then I heft back my arm, and take a strong swing, trying to imagine it’s Harris’ face on the other side.
The sound of the impact is muffled. With my arm still covered, I sweep out the remaining glass in the frame. I’m ready to escape. The only trouble is - when they look in on me in the morning, there will be no question what has happened. It won’t help me one jot with shifting suspicion off my back.
I slip off my jacket and hold it with one hand over the glass. This should do it. Then I heft my shoe by its toe, and take a strong swing, trying to imagine it’s Harris’ face on the other side.
The sound of the impact is muffled. With my arm still covered, I sweep out the remaining glass in the frame. I’m ready to escape. The only trouble is - when they look in on me in the morning, there will be no question what has happened. It won’t help me one jot with shifting suspicion off my back.
“Quite right,” I answer smartly.
He stares back at me. “Let’s get straight to the point. Do you have the component?” Harris demands. “Do you know where it is?”
“We’re still in ear-shot if they let Hooper go. Best get us inside and then we can talk, if we must.”
“I’ve had enough of your voice for one day,” Harris replies grimly. He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
“Right now, I think you take that role, Harris,” I reply coolly.
“Very droll,” he replies. “Let me tell you what happened this morning, and see if it takes the smile off your face. Our men watching Hooper’s tent saw Hooper wake up, get dressed, clamber out of his tent and then remark with surprise as, while looking for his shoes, he stumbled on something just at the entrance of his tent.”
“That’s exactly it,” I say quietly. “Harris. You understand. There are some things... which can get a man into a lot of trouble. Things one shouldn’t do.”
Harris, to his credit, doesn’t stiffen. He doesn’t lean away, or remove his hands from the table-top as though my condition might be infectious. I thought they trained them in the army to shoot my kind on sight but he does not.
Of course, he does not offer any sympathy either. He only nods, once. The understanding that has passed between us here is a mere turning cog in his calculations, with no meaning or righteousness to it.
“I’ve seen the same story a hundred times before,” he says. “A young man like yourself - clever, somewhat removed from the world. The kind that doesn’t go to parties, you might say. Who takes himself a little too seriously, perhaps. Takes things too far. Further than a man should allow a thing to go. That’s the story, isn’t it? You took things too far, and then you couldn’t take them back. And now they have you.”
“I don’t know what I’m suggesting. I don’t understand what’s going on.”
“But of course you do.” Harris narrows his eyes. “Let’s get straight to the point. Do you have the component?” Harris demands. “Do you know where it is?”
The bunk has a solid metal frame, a blanket, a pillow, nothing more.
From where he’s sitting, I know Hooper can see me, so I keep my head down and look guilty as sin. The bastard is probably smiling.
The Captain comes outside, pulling the door to. “What’s this?” he asks. “A confession? Just like that?”
“No,” the Commander admits, in a low voice. “I’m afraid not. Rather more a scheme. The idea is to let Hooper go and see what he does. If he believes we have Manning here in irons, he’ll try to shift the component.”
“If he has it.”
“Indeed.”
The Captain peers at me for a moment, like I was some kind of curious insect.
“Sometimes, I think you people are magicians,” he remarks. “Other times you seem more like witches. Very well.”
With that he opens the door to the Hut and goes back inside. The Commander uses the moment to hustle me roughly forward.
“This scheme of yours had better come off,” he hisses in my ear. “Otherwise the Captain is going to start having men tailing me to see where I go on Saturdays.”
“No, Harris. The young man wasn’t blackmailing me.” I take a deep breath. “It was Hooper.”
“Now look here,” Harris interrupts. “Don’t start that again.”
“It’s the truth, Harris. If I’m going to jail, then so be it, but I won’t hang at Traitor’s Gate. Hooper was the one who told the boy about our work. Hooper put the boy on to me. And then, once he had me compromised, he demanded I steal the part from the machine.”
“Which you did.” Harris leans forward. “And then what? You still have it? You put it somewhere?”
“I don’t think Hooper could have planned this in advance. So he’d need to get word to whoever he’s working with, and that would take time. So I think he would have hidden it somewhere, and be waiting to make sure I soundly take the fall. That way, if anything goes wrong, he can arrange for the part to be conveniently re-found.”
“Makes sense,” Harris agrees, cautiously. I can see he’s still not entirely convinced by my tale, as well he might not be - I’ve hardly been entirely straight with him. “Which means the question is, what can we do to rat him out?”
I suppose I do not believe they will hang me. They will lock me up and continue to use my brain, if they can. I wonder what they will tell the world - perhaps that I have taken my own life. That would be simplest. The few who know me would believe it.
Well, then. Not a bad existence, in prison. Removed from temptation. A kind of imposed monasticism, with plenty more problems to solve, and more mysteries to fathom.
I wonder what else I might yet unravel before I’m done?
“I’m fine,” I reply. “This is all some misunderstanding and the quicker we have it cleared up the better.”
“I couldn’t agree more.” And then he comes right out with it, with an accusation. “Let’s get straight to the point. Do you have the component?” Harris demands. “Do you know where it is?”
Enough of this place. Time for me to get moving. I can get to the train station on foot, catch the postal train to Scotland and be somewhere else before anyone realises that I’m gone.
Of course, then they’ll be looking for me in earnest. As a confirmed traitor.
“Someone threw this in through the window over night,” I reply, and open my jacket to reveal the component from the Bombe. “I couldn’t see who, it was too dark. But I know what it is.”
He reaches out and takes it. “Well, I’ll be damned,” he murmurs. “That’s it all right. And you didn’t have it on you when we put you in here. But it can’t have been Hooper - I had men watching him all night. And there’s no-one else it could have been.”
He turns the component over in his hands, bemused.
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
The weight of the Bombe component safely in my jacket, I return the short way up the paths between the huts to the barrack block and the broken window.
It’s a little harder getting back through - the window is higher off the ground than the floor inside - but after a decent bit of jumping and hauling I manage to get my elbows up, and then one leg, and finally I collapse inside, quite winded and out breath.
“Just adding to the drama,” I tell him, confidently. “I’m sure you can understand that.”
“I think we’ve had enough drama today already,” Harris replies. “Let’s hope for a clean kill.”
He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
I pause a moment, trying to choose my words. To just come out and say it, after a lifetime of hiding... I wouldn’t know how. To put it into words, bluntly and directly: that is a circle I cannot square.
“I’ve done things,” I begin, uncomfortably. “I didn’t want to. I tried not to. But in the end, you understand. I had to. It felt like cutting off my own arm not to. Things I know I shouldn’t have. Things I perhaps regret.”
“I see,” Harris answers. “You’ve left yourself open. To pressure. Is that what you’re saying?”
There’s no time to lose. Throwing caution to the wind I make my way quickly to Hut 2, and around the back. I don’t think I’ve been followed, or seen but if I have, it’s too late. My actions are suspicious enough for anyone’s noose. I have no choice but to follow through.
The component is still there, wrapped in a tea-towel and shoved into a cavity in a breeze-block at the base of the Hut wall.
“I always meant to tell you,” I tell him. “I thought perhaps I could find out who they were. Lead you to them.”
Harris looks at me with contempt. “You wretched little man. Don’t think your tongue will be able to get you out of trouble. You’re going to pay for what you’ve done, and you’re going to pay dearly. If a single man loses his life because of your pride and your perversions then God help your eternal soul. The fact is you committed a crime.” If I had any sense that he understood my predicament, and that he felt for my state of being, it collapses like a chain with a broken link. “You thought you could repair it with another, more serious crime?” He shakes his head. “I thought you men were supposed to be clever. But this is the action of a frightened woman. So I’d like you to tell me, now. Where is it?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
“I don’t know what gives you the right to pick on me. I demand a lawyer.”
“This is time of war,” Harris answers. His tone of voice has fallen down into darkness. “And by God, if I have to shoot you to recover the component or stop it falling into the wrong hands, I will, do you understand me?”
There’s an icy silence. I’ve cracked him a little at least. He’s angry. He waves an impetuous hand across the field table.
“Now, drink your tea and talk.”
“An accident, naturally.” I risk a smile. “That damned machine, Harris; it’s made from spare parts and string. Even these huts leak when it rains. It wouldn’t take more than one fellow to trip over a cable to shake out a component and have it roll away across the floor. Have you tried looking under the thing?”
Harris doesn’t smile. “Do you suppose we haven’t? Do you supposed we haven’t combed every inch of this place already?”
In a sudden moment I understand that his reply is a threat.
“Now,” he continues. “Are you sure there isn’t anything you want to tell me?”
I slip off my jacket and hold it with one hand over the glass. This should do it. Then I heft my shoe by its toe, and take a strong swing, trying to imagine it’s Harris’ face on the other side.
The sound of the impact is muffled. With my arm still covered, I sweep out the remaining glass in the frame. I’m ready to escape. The only trouble is - when they look in on me in the morning, there will be no question what has happened. It won’t help me one jot with shifting suspicion off my back.
The bunk has a solid metal frame, a blanket, a pillow, nothing more.
“We don’t have to believe anyone,” Harris replies sternly. “I intend to know the truth and be happy with nothing else. Right now, your story doesn’t hold water. It doesn’t tie up. We know you’ve been leaving yourself open to accusations. We’ve been watching your activities for some time. But we thought you were endangering the reputation of this site with the Government; not risking the country herself. Perhaps I put too much trust in your intellectual pride.”
He pauses for a moment, considering something. Then he continues:
“It might have been Hooper. It might have been you. No-one here is in the business of guessing, you know that. Our business is to decode. To get to the bottom of whatever’s going on. You’ve not placed yourself beyond suspicion and until you do so...” Harris shrugs. “I’m afraid I have fewer and fewer choices as time goes on. If that component has left these grounds then every minute is critical.”
“I’m not saying anything of the sort,” I snap back. “What is this, Harris? You’re accusing me of treachery but I don’t see a shred of evidence for it! Why don’t you put your cards on the table?”
“It’s simple enough,” Harris replies. “I’ve seen the same story a hundred times before,” he says. “A young man like yourself - clever, somewhat removed from the world. The kind that doesn’t go to parties, you might say. Who takes himself a little too seriously, perhaps. Takes things too far. Further than a man should allow a thing to go. That’s the story, isn’t it? You took things too far, and then you couldn’t take them back. And now they have you.”
“I was quite certain, after a while. After we’d been talking. He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
“Yes. Something like that. It’s a very lonely life otherwise. And the work we do - well. It only makes it worse. There’s barely a moment to oneself.”
“That’s how it is in the Service,” Harris answers. “I know you didn’t sign up for it but, well. There’s plenty of other men who didn’t who are serving now, too. Now, go on with your confession.”
That gives me pause, for a moment. I hadn’t thought of it as such. But I suppose that’s what this is. I am about to admit what I did, after all.
“There’s not much else to say. I took the part from Bombe computing device. You seem to know that already. I had to. He was going to expose me if I didn’t.”
“This young man was blackmailing you over your affair?”
“Now steady on,” I reply, gesturing for him to calm himself.
“Talk,” Harris demands. “Talk, now. Tell me where you’ve hidden it or who you’ve passed it to. Or God help me, but I’ll take your wretched pansy body to pieces looking for it, do you understand me?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
“He’s petty enough, certainly. He’s a creep.” I wipe a hand across my forehead. “All I can say is, ever since I arrived here, he’s been looking to ways to bring me down a peg. I wouldn’t be surprised if he set this whole affair up just to have me court-martialled.”
“We don’t court-martial civilians,” Harris replies. “Traitors are simply hung at her Majesty’s pleasure.”
“Try me. Just me and him.”
“Alone?”
“Alone.”
Harris considers it. I watch his eyes, flicking backwards and forwards over mine, like a ribbon-reader trying to load in its program.
“Just adding to the drama,” I tell him, confidently. “I’m sure you can understand that.”
“I think we’ve had enough drama today already,” Harris replies. “Let’s hope for a clean kill.”
He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
It’s no good. Nothing I can do will be any less than obvious - something appearing where something was not there before. The men watching Hooper will know it is a deception and Hooper’s protestations will be taken at face value.
If I can’t find a way for Hooper to pick the component up, as if from a hiding place of his own devising, and be caught doing it, then I have no plan at all.
I go over to the window and try to jimmy it open. Not much luck, but in my struggling I notice this window only backs on the thin little brook that runs down the back of the compound. Which means, if I smashed it, I might get away with no-one seeing.
“Someone threw this in through the window over night,” I reply, and open my jacket to reveal the component from the Bombe. “I couldn’t see who, it was too dark. But I know what it is.”
He reaches out and takes it. “Well, I’ll be damned,” he murmurs. “That’s it all right. And you didn’t have it on you when we put you in here. But it can’t have been Hooper - I had men watching him all night. And there’s no-one else it could have been.”
He turns the component over in his hands, bemused.
“I was quite certain, after a while. After we’d been talking. He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
“Perhaps Hooper had an accomplice. Someone else who works on site.”
Harris shakes his head, distractedly. “That doesn’t make sense,” he says. “Why go to all the trouble of stealing it only to give it back? And why like this?”
“I was quite certain, after a while. After we’d been talking. He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
“Nothing,” I reply. “You’re just the other man in the room. One of us has to get the blame.”
I get to my feet and open the door of the Hut. The Captain storms back inside and I’m quickly thrown out. Harris hustles me over to the barracks. “I hope that’s the end of it,” he mutters as he pushes me up the steps.
“Just be sure to let him out,” I reply. “And then see where he goes.”
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. Thinking back, I should have wrapped the part from the Bombe in one of his shirts before hiding it, that would have been a clever move. I really do make a terrible spy.
“Hooper, I’ll make a deal with you. We both know what happened in that hut this afternoon. I know because I did it, and you know because you know you didn’t. But once this is done I’ll be rich, and I’ll split that with you. I’ll let you have the results, too. Your name on the discovery of the Bombe. And it won’t hurt the war effort - you know as well as me that the component on its own is worthless, it’s the wiring of the Bombe, the usage, that’s what’s valuable. So how about it?”
Hooper looks back at me, appalled. “You’re asking me to commit treason?”
Work carefully? It’s difficult to work carefully when all one’s has is a shoe.
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
“Very well then.” I swallow nervously, to make it look more genuine. “No. I passed it on to Hooper.”
“I see. And what did he do with it?”
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
The bunk has a solid metal frame, a blanket, a pillow, nothing more.
“All right.” With a sigh, your defiance collapses."If you’re searched my things then I suppose you’ve found my letters. Haven’t you? In fact, if you haven’t, don’t tell me.
Harris nods once. “I’ve seen the same story a hundred times before,” he says. “A young man like yourself - clever, somewhat removed from the world. The kind that doesn’t go to parties, you might say. Who takes himself a little too seriously, perhaps. Takes things too far. Further than a man should allow a thing to go. That’s the story, isn’t it? You took things too far, and then you couldn’t take them back. And now they have you.”
Let me see. There’s the bunk, a bucket, nothing else. I have my jacket but nothing in the pockets - no handkerchief, for instance.
“No.”
“Too bad.” Harris opens the door and pushes me inside. “Captain,” he calls. “Could I have a moment?”
The Captain, looking puzzled, steps out. The door is closed. Hooper stares at me, open-mouthed, about to say something. I probably have less than a minute before the Captain storms back in and declares this plan to be bunkum.
I put my ear down to the keyhole, but there’s nothing now. Probably still a guard outside, of course, but they’re keeping mum.
“Yes. Something like that. It’s a very lonely life otherwise. And the work we do - well. It only makes it worse. There’s barely a moment to oneself.”
“That’s how it is in the Service,” Harris answers. “I know you didn’t sign up for it but, well. There’s plenty of other men who didn’t who are serving now, too. Now, go on with your confession.”
That gives me pause, for a moment. I hadn’t thought of it as such. But I suppose that’s what this is. I am about to admit what I did, after all.
“There’s not much else to say. I took the part from Bombe computing device. You seem to know that already. I had to. He was going to expose me if I didn’t.”
“This young man was blackmailing you over your affair?”
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
“The component?”
“Yes,” Harris replies levelly. “The component that went missing this afternoon. I doubt that you’ve forgotten.”
He’s talking about the missing reel from the Bombe. Russell discovered it this afternoon when the machine began producing strange results. We were all in the Hut when it happened and it had been in place when we sat down to work. The conclusions had been obvious to all four of us immediately, but had gone undiscussed, even after the empty socket was located, the wiring torn on either side.
“Lucky these things are easy to replace,” Russell had remarked, and that had been that. We had stopped work, sent out for a new part to be machined. And drunk our tea and watched each other.
“Come now,” Harris says, quite the reasonable gent. “As I told you. We’re not interviewing everyone. Only you. So. I think you can be a little more forthcoming.”
Co-operation is the only sensible approach. Anything else will be seen through and will increase their suspicion, and risk contradiction with myself or whatever other sources they might have. I must be transparent, open - and hope they do not ask any questions I do not want to answer.
They give me time enough to prepare what those questions might be. Half an hour goes by before Commander Harris returns to the hut. He seems careful to leave the door open only for a moment, as if worried a loose word or two might slip inside.
He’s brought two cups of tea in metal mugs: he sets them down on the tabletop between us.
“Well then,” he begins, a little awkwardly. This is an unseemly situation, it would be appear. He pushes one cup halfway towards me. A small gesture of friendship. Is that enough to give me some hope?
“Ask the others,” I reply, leaning back. “They’ll tell you. If they haven’t already, that’s only because they’re protecting Hooper. Hoping he’ll come to his senses and stop being an idiot. I hope he does too. And if you lock him up in a freezing hut like you’ve done me, I’m sure he will.”
“We have,” Harris replies simply.
It’s all I can do not to gape.
“Hooper’s in Hut 3 with the Captain, having a similar conversation.”
“You want me to tell you what happened? You’ll be disgusted, I’m quite sure.”
“I can imagine how it starts,” he growls.
“There was a young man, Harris. I met him in the town. A few months ago now. We got to talking - not about work. I said I was an accountant for a firm, just as I was supposed to. Although he seemed to know that wasn’t true. That got me wondering if he wasn’t one of us.”
Harris is not letting me off any more. “You seriously considered that possibility?”
“I’m not trying to do anything except save my neck.”
“Let’s hope things work out,” Harris agrees darkly.
He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
“I saw Hooper take it.”
“I see.” He is starting to lose his temper - I can see it in the creases of his face. I have seen Harris angry a few times, with lackeys and secretaries and the like, usually over things sent late or incorrectly. But never with us. With the “brains” he has always been so cautious, treating us like children. And now I see that, like a father, he wants only to smack us when we disobey him. “I wish you’d stop with your deceptions and get to the truth, man. Every minute matters.”
“I don’t know.”
“You can do better than that. Remember, there’s a hangman’s noose waiting for traitors.”
The bucket? Hardly. The bucket might do some good if I wanted to sweep up the glass afterwards, but it won’t help me smash the glass quietly.
The bunk has a solid metal frame, a blanket, a pillow, nothing more.
The blanket. Perfect. I scoop it up off the bed and hold it in place over the window. This should do it. Then I heft back my arm, and take a strong swing, trying to imagine it’s Harris’ face on the other side.
The sound of the impact is muffled. With my arm still covered, I sweep out the remaining glass in the frame. I’m ready to escape. The only trouble is - when they look in on me in the morning, there will be no question what has happened. It won’t help me one jot with shifting suspicion off my back.
“Ask not for whom the bell tolls!”
He stares back at me, as if were a madman and perhaps for a split second I see him shudder.
The Captain comes outside, pulling the door to. “What’s this?” he asks. “A confession? Just like that?”
“No,” the Commander admits, in a low voice. “I’m afraid not. Rather more a scheme. The idea is to let Hooper go and see what he does. If he believes we have Manning here in irons, he’ll try to shift the component.”
“If he has it.”
“Indeed.”
The Captain peers at me for a moment, like I was some kind of curious insect.
“Sometimes, I think you people are magicians,” he remarks. “Other times you seem more like witches. Very well.”
With that he opens the door to the Hut and goes back inside. The Commander uses the moment to hustle me roughly forward.
“And what was all that shouting about?” he hisses in my ear as we move towards the barracks. “Are you trying to pull something? Or just make me look incompetent?”
“Absolutely.”
Harris opens the door and pushes me inside. “Captain,” he calls. “Could I have a moment?”
The Captain, looking puzzled, steps out. The door is closed. Hooper stares at me, open-mouthed, about to say something. I probably have less than a minute before the Captain storms back in and declares this plan to be bunkum.
I go over to the window and try to jimmy it open. Not much luck, but in my struggling I notice this window only backs on the thin little brook that runs down the back of the compound. Which means, if I smashed it, I might get away with no-one seeing.
From outside, I hear a voice. Hooper’s. He’s haranguing someone, for something.
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
“I don’t think Hooper could have planned this in advance. So he’d need to get word to whoever he’s working with, and that would take time. So I think he would have hidden it somewhere, and be waiting to make sure I soundly take the fall. That way, if anything goes wrong, he can arrange for the part to be conveniently re-found.”
“Makes sense,” Harris agrees, cautiously. I can see he’s still not certain whether he can trust me. “Which means the question is, what can we do to rat him out?”
I leave the cup exactly where it is. “Why?” I ask coldly. “What’s in it?”
“Lapsang Souchong,” he remarks, placing his own cup down on the table with a clink. “Such a curious flavour. It might almost not be tea at all. You might say it hides a multitude of sins. As do you, isn’t that correct?”
I put my ear down to the keyhole, but there’s nothing now. Probably still a guard outside, of course, but they’re keeping mum.
“Very well then.” I swallow nervously, to make it look more genuine. “No. I passed it on to Hooper.”
“I see. And what did he do with it?”
Making a wide circuit I creep around the tent. It has plenty of other flaps and openings, tied down with Gordian complexity. But nothing afford itself to slipping the component inside.
“Maybe I can help with that.”
“Oh, yes? And how, exactly?”
I shift in my seat. “Not really. The boy was a simpleton, obviously. My intellectual inferior. His good opinion meant nothing to be. Harris, please do not misunderstand me. I was simply after his body.”
Harris, to his credit, doesn’t flinch. Well, perhaps not: but he’ll have nightmares of this moment tonight. I’m almost tempted to reach out and try to take his hand to worsen it for him, but I hold back.
“Go on with your confession,” he replies. I shrug.
“There’s not much else to say. I took the part from Bombe computing device. You seem to know that already. I had to. He was going to expose me if I didn’t.”
“This young man was blackmailing you over your affair?”
I slip off my jacket and hold it with one hand over the glass. This should do it. Then I heft my shoe by its toe, and take a strong swing, trying to imagine it’s Harris’ face on the other side.
The sound of the impact is muffled. With my arm still covered, I sweep out the remaining glass in the frame. I’m ready to escape. The only trouble is - when they look in on me in the morning, there will be no question what has happened. It won’t help me one jot with shifting suspicion off my back.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Hooper’s been taken away. They caught him, uncovering that missing Bombe component from a hiding place somewhere, apparently about to take it to his contact.” Russell harrumphs. “Quince was saying this morning, apparently his grandfather was German. So perhaps it’s to be expected. See you there?”
I wave to him and move away, my thoughts turning to the young man in the village. My lover. My contact. My blackmailer. Hooper may have taken the fall for the missing component, but if it was his recovering it from Hut 2 then I have nothing to sell to save my reputation.
If he didn’t, of course, and Harris was telling the truth about his sudden confession, then I will be able to buy my freedom once and for all.
I peer out of the window, but it looks out onto the little brook at the back of the compound, with no view of the other huts or the House. Who knows if there are men up, searching the base of Hut 2, following one another with flashlights...
The night draws on at its own pace. I suppose by morning I will know my fate.
I pause a moment, trying to choose my words. To just come out and say it, after a lifetime of hiding... I wouldn’t know how. To put it into words, bluntly and directly: that is a circle I cannot square.
“I’ve done things,” I begin, uncomfortably. “I didn’t want to. I tried not to. But in the end, you understand. I had to. It felt like cutting off my own arm not to. Things I know I shouldn’t have. Things I perhaps regret.”
“I see,” Harris answers. “You’ve left yourself open. To pressure. Is that what you’re saying?”
I shake my head violently, to say no, that’s not it, but whatever is wrong with tongue is wrong with neck too. I look across at the table at Harris’ face and realise with a start how sympathetic he is. Such a kind, generous man. How can I hold anything back from him?
I take another mouthful of the bitter, strange-tasting tea before answering.
“That’s exactly it,” I say quietly. “Harris. You understand. There are some things... which can get a man into a lot of trouble. Things one shouldn’t do.”
Harris, to his credit, doesn’t stiffen. He doesn’t lean away, or remove his hands from the table-top as though my condition might be infectious. I thought they trained them in the army to shoot my kind on sight but he does not.
Of course, he does not offer any sympathy either. He only nods, once. The understanding that has passed between us here is a mere turning cog in his calculations, with no meaning or righteousness to it.
“I’ve seen the same story a hundred times before,” he says. “A young man like yourself - clever, somewhat removed from the world. The kind that doesn’t go to parties, you might say. Who takes himself a little too seriously, perhaps. Takes things too far. Further than a man should allow a thing to go. That’s the story, isn’t it? You took things too far, and then you couldn’t take them back. And now they have you.”
In case I’m being followed, I divert around the perimeter of the compound. It’s a much longer path, and it takes me across some terrain that’s difficult to negotiate in the dark - muddy, and thick with thistles and nestles.
Still, I can be confident no-one is following, as I hear nothing. I crouch down behind the rear wall of Hut 2. The component is still there, wrapped in a tea-towel and shoved into a cavity in a breeze-block at the base of the Hut wall.
“Then you know I’m right. You knew all along. Why did you threaten me?”
“We don’t know anything, except that we have a traitor, holding the fate of the country in their hands. No-one here is in the business of guessing, you know that. Our business is to decode. To get to the bottom of whatever’s going on. You’ve not placed yourself beyond suspicion and until you do so...” Harris shrugs. “I’m afraid I have fewer and fewer choices as time goes on. If that component has left these grounds then every minute is critical.”
I go over to the window and try to jimmy it open. Not much luck, but in my struggling I notice this window only backs on the thin little brook that runs down the back of the compound. Which means, if I smashed it, I might get away with no-one seeing.
“I don’t have it any more. I passed it through the fence to my contact straight after taking it, before it was discovered to be missing. It would have been idiocy to do differently. It’s long gone, I’m afraid.”
“You fool, Manning,” Harris curses, getting quickly to his feet. “You utter fool. Do you suppose you will be any better off living under Hitler? It’s men like you who will get us all killed. Men too feeble, too weak in their hearts to stand up and take a man’s responsibility for the world. You’re happier to stay a child all your life and play with your little childish toys.”
“I know nothing about it.” My voice is shaking with anger as I try to speak. I’m not accustomed to facing off against the Commander - against any man with a gun in his holster. “I don’t know what gives you the right to pick on me. I demand a lawyer.”
“This is time of war,” Harris answers. His tone of voice has fallen down into darkness. “And by God, if I have to shoot you to recover the component or stop it falling into the wrong hands, I will, do you understand me?”
There’s an icy silence. He’s angry at my slippery answers. He waves an impetuous hand across the field table.
“Now, drink your tea and talk.”
“I broke it,” I reply. There doesn’t seem any use in trying to lie. “I thought I could escape. But I couldn’t get myself through.”
The Commander laughs. “Shame,” he remarks. “I should have left that window open and put a guard on you. Might have been interesting to see where you went. Anyway, I’m glad you’re still here, even if you do smell like a dog.”
“That’s exactly it,” I say quietly. “Harris. You understand. There are some things... which can get a man into a lot of trouble. Things one shouldn’t do.”
Harris, to his credit, doesn’t stiffen. He doesn’t lean away, or remove his hands from the table-top as though my condition might be infectious. I thought they trained them in the army to shoot my kind on sight but he does not.
Of course, he does not offer any sympathy either. He only nods, once. The understanding that has passed between us here is a mere turning cog in his calculations, with no meaning or righteousness to it.
“I’ve seen the same story a hundred times before,” he says. “A young man like yourself - clever, somewhat removed from the world. The kind that doesn’t go to parties, you might say. Who takes himself a little too seriously, perhaps. Takes things too far. Further than a man should allow a thing to go. That’s the story, isn’t it? You took things too far, and then you couldn’t take them back. And now they have you.”
“No. I have no idea.”
He’s talking about the missing reel from the Bombe. Russell discovered it this afternoon when the machine began producing strange results. We were all in the Hut when it happened and it had been in place when we sat down to work. The conclusions had been obvious to all four of us immediately, but had gone undiscussed, even after the empty socket was located, the wiring torn on either side.
“Lucky these things are easy to replace,” Russell had remarked, and that had been that. We had stopped work, sent out for a new part to be machined. And drunk our tea and watched each other.
“Come now,” Harris says, quite the reasonable gent. “As I told you. We’re not interviewing everyone. Only you. So. I think you can be a little more forthcoming.”
“Then let him think he’s off the hook. Make a show of me. And then you’ll get your man.”
Somehow, I think. But that’s the part I need to work.
Harris gets to his feet. “All right,” he says. “I should no better than to trust a clever man, but we’ll give it a go.” Then, he smiles, with all his teeth, like a wolf. “Hooper’s in Hut 3 being debriefed by the Captain. Let’s see if we can’t get his attention somehow.”
He raps on the door for the guard and gives the man a quick instruction. He returns a moment later with a cool pair of iron cuffs.
“Put ‘em up,” Harris instructs, and I do so. The metal closes around my wrists like a trap. I stand and follow Harris willingly out through the door.
But whatever I’m doing with my body, my mind is scheming. Somehow, I’m thinking, I have to get away from these men long enough to get that component behind Hut 2 and put it somewhere Hooper will go. Or, otherwise, somehow get Hooper to go there himself...
Harris marches me over to Hut 3, and gestures for the guard to stand aside. Pushing me forward, he opens the door nice and wide.
“Captain. Manning talked. If you’d step out for a moment?”
It’s no good. Nothing I can do will be any less than obvious - something appearing where something was not there before. The men watching Hooper will know it is a deception and Hooper’s protestations will be taken at face value.
If I can’t find a way for Hooper to pick the component up, as if from a hiding place of his own devising, and be caught doing it, then I have no plan at all.
“I’m not trying to do anything except save my neck.”
“Let’s hope things work out,” Harris agrees darkly.
He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
It’s no good. Nothing I can do will be any less than obvious - something appearing where something was not there before. The men watching Hooper will know it is a deception and Hooper’s protestations will be taken at face value.
If I can’t find a way for Hooper to pick the component up, as if from a hiding place of his own devising, and be caught doing it, then I have no plan at all.
“Yes. Probably under my bunk.”
Harris smiles wryly. “We’ll know that for a fake, then. We’ve looked there already. I don’t mind telling you, this is a disaster, this whole thing. What I want is to find that little bit of mechanical trickery anywhere. I don’t care where. In your luncheon box or under Hooper’s pillow, whatever. Just somewhere, and within the grounds of this place.”
“Very well then.” I swallow nervously, to make it look more genuine. “No. I passed it on to Hooper.”
“I see. And what did he do with it?”
The window is my only way out of here. I just need a way to smash it.
“All right,” he declares, gruffly. “We’ll try it. But if this doesn’t work, I might just put the both of you in front of a firing squad and be done with these games. Worse things happen in time of war, you know.”
“Alone,” I add.
“Alone?”
“Alone.”
Harris considers it. I watch his eyes, flicking backwards and forwards over mine, like a ribbon-reader trying to load in its program.
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
“I’m looking forward to having a wash and a change of clothes; which should make a little less evil to be around.”
“Very droll,” he replies. “Let me tell you what happened this morning, and see if it takes the smile off your face. Our men watching Hooper’s tent saw Hooper wake up, get dressed, clamber out of his tent and then remark with surprise as, while looking for his shoes, he stumbled on something just at the entrance of his tent.”
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
“When you have eliminated the impossible...” I begin, but Harris cuts me off.
“We are left with two possibilities, quite clearly. You, or Hooper.” The Commander pauses to smooth down his moustache. “Hooper’s in Hut 3 with the Captain, having a similar conversation.”
“Well?”
“We’ll be outside the door,” Harris replies, seriously. “The first sign of any funny business and we’ll have you both on the floor in minutes. You understand? The country needs your brain, but it’s not too worried about your legs. Remember that.”
Then he gets to his feet, and opens the door, and marches me out and across the yard. The evening is drawing in and there’s a chill in the air. My mind is racing. I have one opportunity here - a moment in which to put the fear of God into Hooper and make him do something foolish to place himself in harm’s way. But how to achieve it?
“You ready?” Harris demands.
“I am what I am,” I reply. “I’m the way nature made me. But they’re going to hang me unless you help me, Hooper. Don’t let them hang me.”
“Assuming I wanted to help you,” he replies, carefully. “Which I don’t. What would I do?”
“Nothing. Almost nothing.
All you have to do is go to the back of Hut 2. There’s a breeze-block with a cavity. That’s where I’ve put it. I’ll be locked up overnight, I should think. But you can pick it up and pass it to my contact. He’ll be at the south fence around two AM."
“If you think I’ll do that then you’re crazy,” Hooper replies.
At that moment the door flies open and the Captain comes storming back inside.
Harris hustles me over to the barracks. “I hope that’s the end of it,” he mutters as he pushes me up the steps.
“Just be sure to let him out,” I reply. “And then see where he goes.”
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
There’s no time to lose. Throwing caution to the wind I make my way quickly to Hut 2, and around the back. I don’t think I’ve been followed, or seen but if I have, it’s too late. My actions are suspicious enough for anyone’s noose. I have no choice but to follow through.
The component is still there, wrapped in a tea-towel and shoved into a cavity in a breeze-block at the base of the Hut wall.
“We don’t have to believe anyone,” Harris replies sternly. “I intend to know the truth and be happy with nothing else. Right now, your story doesn’t hold water. It doesn’t tie up. We know you’ve been leaving yourself open to accusations. We’ve been watching your activities for some time. But we thought you were endangering the reputation of this site with the Government; not risking the country herself. Perhaps I put too much trust in your intellectual pride.”
He pauses for a moment, considering something. Then he continues:
“It might have been Hooper. It might have been you. No-one here is in the business of guessing, you know that. Our business is to decode. To get to the bottom of whatever’s going on. You’ve not placed yourself beyond suspicion and until you do so...” Harris shrugs. “I’m afraid I have fewer and fewer choices as time goes on. If that component has left these grounds then every minute is critical.”
I have in my head to blame Hooper, but somehow I cannot find a way to tell the story. Whatever they put in my tea, it has control of my tongue. I find myself collapsing, desperate to tell him everything, almost weeping with the shame of it.
“There was a young man, Harris. I met him in the town. A few months ago now. We got to talking - not about work, you understand. I said I was an accountant for a firm, just as I was supposed to. Although he seemed to know that wasn’t true. That got me wondering if he wasn’t one of us.”
Harris is not letting me off any more. “You seriously considered that possibility?”
Quickly, I pull it free, and slip it into the pocket of my jacket.
Where now?
I cast around the small room. There’s a bucket in one corner for emergencies - I suppose I could use that. I pick it up but it’s not very easy to heft. And the noise would be terrible. There must be a way of making this easier. I’m supposed to be a thief now. What would a burglar do?
“It will. Hooper’s running scared,” I reply, hoping I sound more confident than I feel.
“I think we’ve had enough drama today already,” Harris replies. “Let’s hope for a clean kill.”
He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
I say nothing. It’s true, isn’t it? I can’t deny that I know there is a world out there, a complicated world of pain and suffering. And I can’t deny that I don’t think about it a moment longer than I have to. What use is thinking on a problem that cannot be solved? It is precisely our ability to avoid such endless spirals that makes us human and not machine.
“God have mercy on your soul,” Harris says finally, as he gets to his feet and heads for the door. “I fear no-one else will.” Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
“I don’t think Hooper could have planned this in advance. So he’d need to get word to whoever he’s working with, and that would take time. So I think he would have hidden it somewhere, and be waiting to make sure I soundly take the fall. That way, if anything goes wrong, he can arrange for the part to be conveniently re-found.”
“Makes sense,” Harris agrees, cautiously. I can see he’s still not entirely convinced by my tale, as well he might not be - I’ve hardly been entirely straight with him. “Which means the question is, what can we do to rat him out?”
“I don’t think Hooper could have planned this in advance. So he’d need to get word to whoever he’s working with, and that would take time. So I think he would have hidden it somewhere, and be waiting to make sure I soundly take the fall. That way, if anything goes wrong, he can arrange for the part to be conveniently re-found.”
“Makes sense,” Harris agrees, cautiously. I can see he’s still not certain whether he can trust me. “Which means the question is, what can we do to rat him out?”
“No, I suppose not.” I push the teacup around on its base. “All I can say is, ever since I arrived here, he’s been looking to ways to bring me down a peg. I wouldn’t be surprised if he set this whole affair up just to have me court-martialled.”
“We don’t court-martial civilians,” Harris replies. “Traitors are simply hung at her Majesty’s pleasure.”
“You mean he didn’t even hide it? Just put it in his shoe?”
“No,” Harris replies. “That isn’t really what I mean. I mean, he managed to find it, by accident, somewhere where it wasn’t the night before. And at the same time, you’re sitting here with your window broken. So, I rather think you’ve played your last hand and lost. There’s no way Hooper stole that component and then just left it lying around in the doorway of his tent. No way at all. So I came to tell you that the game is up for you.”
He nods and gets to his feet. Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
“I suppose so,” I reply. “I’ve certainly done things I regret. Things I shouldn’t have done.”
“I see,” Harris answers. “You’ve left yourself open. To pressure. Is that what you’re saying?”
“Oh, yes?”
“Yes. For what that’s worth. There’s still the issue of the component. It hasn’t turned up. He didn’t lead us to it. I guess he figured you must have had something on him. I don’t know.”
He looks quite put out by the whole affair. He is not the kind of man to deal well with ambiguities and probabilities, far preferred the clarity of fact and falsehood.
The blanket. Perfect. I scoop it up off the bed and hold it in place over the window. This should do it. Then I heft the bucket - this really is quite a fiddly thing to be doing, and I need far longer arms, especially in cuffs - and take a strong swing, trying to imagine it’s Harris’ face on the other side.
The sound of the impact is muffled. With my arm still covered, I sweep out the remaining glass in the frame. I’m ready to escape. The only trouble is - when they look in on me in the morning, there will be no question what has happened. It won’t help me one jot with shifting suspicion off my back.
I shift in my seat. “Not really. The boy was a simpleton, obviously. My intellectual inferior. His good opinion meant nothing to be. Harris, please do not misunderstand me. I was simply after his body.”
Harris, to his credit, doesn’t flinch. Well, perhaps not: but he’ll have nightmares of this moment tonight. I’m almost tempted to reach out and try to take his hand to worsen it for him, but I hold back.
“Go on with your confession,” he replies. I shrug.
“There’s not much else to say. I took the part from Bombe computing device. You seem to know that already. I had to. He was going to expose me if I didn’t.”
“This young man was blackmailing you over your affair?”
“I saw Hooper take it.”
“I see.” He is starting to lose his temper - I can see it in the creases of his face. I have seen Harris angry a few times, with lackeys and secretaries and the like, usually over things sent late or incorrectly. But never with us. With the “brains” he has always been so cautious, treating us like children. And now I see that, like a father, he wants only to smack us when we disobey him. “I wish you’d stop with your deceptions and get to the truth, man. Every minute matters.”
No choice, then. Nothing, that is, except to act as if there is no game being played. I’ll have a bath, then start work as normal. I’ve got a week to find something to give my blackmailer - or give him nothing: it seems my superiors know about my indiscretions now already. Something will turn up.
I go over to the window and try to jimmy it open. Not much luck, but in my struggling I notice this window only backs on the thin little brook that runs down the back of the compound. Which means, if I smashed it, I might get away with no-one seeing.
“Nothing,” I reply. “You’re just the other man in the room. One of us has to get the blame.”
I get to my feet and open the door of the Hut. The Captain storms back inside and I’m quickly thrown out. Harris hustles me over to the barracks. “I hope that’s the end of it,” he mutters as he pushes me up the steps.
“Just be sure to let him out,” I reply. “And then see where he goes.”
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. Thinking back, I should have wrapped the part from the Bombe in one of his shirts before hiding it, that would have been a clever move. I really do make a terrible spy.
“We’ll fool him. He’s waiting to be sure that I’ve been strung up for this, so let’s give him what he wants. If he sees me taken away, clapped in irons - he’ll go straight to that component and set about getting rid of it.”
Harris gets to his feet. “All right,” he says. “I should no better than to trust a clever man, but we’ll give it a go.” Then, he smiles, with all his teeth, like a wolf. “Hooper’s in Hut 3 being debriefed by the Captain. Let’s see if we can’t get his attention somehow.”
He raps on the door for the guard and gives the man a quick instruction. He returns a moment later with a cool pair of iron cuffs.
“Put ‘em up,” Harris instructs, and I do so. The metal closes around my wrists like a trap. I stand and follow Harris willingly out through the door.
But whatever I’m doing with my body, my mind is scheming. Somehow, I’m thinking, I have to get away from these men long enough to get that component behind Hut 2 and put it somewhere Hooper will go. Or, otherwise, somehow get Hooper to go there himself...
Harris marches me over to Hut 3, and gestures for the guard to stand aside. Pushing me forward, he opens the door nice and wide.
“Captain. Manning talked. If you’d step out for a moment?”
The weight of the Bombe component safely in my jacket, I return the short way up the paths between the huts to the barrack block and the broken window.
It’s a little harder getting back through - the window is higher off the ground than the floor inside - but after a decent bit of jumping and hauling I manage to get my elbows up, and then one leg, and finally I collapse inside, quite winded and out breath.
I go over to the window and try to jimmy it open. Not much luck, but in my struggling I notice this window only backs on the thin little brook that runs down the back of the compound. Which means, if I smashed it, I might get away with no-one seeing.
“No. Not for more than a moment, of course. Everyone here is marked out by how little we would be willing to say about it.”
“Only you told this young man more than a little, didn’t you?”
I nod. “He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
After a chance like this? A chance - however real - to save my neck? To hand it over - what, to save Hooper’s worthless skin?
“Very well then.” I swallow nervously, to make it look more genuine. “No. I passed it on to Hooper.”
“I see. And what did he do with it?”
“Of course I do,” I answer.
The reel went missing from the Bombe this afternoon. The four of us were in the Hut at the time, working on the latest intercept. It was Russell who noticed the machine producing strange results and found the gap in its plugboard. But as to who took it - it could have been any of us.
And indeed, it must have been. The machine had been functioning as normal when we began our calculations. And then, a short few hours later, it was gone. We had to stop. There was nothing more we could do until it was replaced. The part was vital, just as the machine was vital, and so were the contents of the message, still unread twenty four hours later.
“Let’s get straight to the point. Do you have the component?” Harris demands. “Do you know where it is?”
I go over to the window and try to jimmy it open. Not much luck, but in my struggling I notice this window only backs on the thin little brook that runs down the back of the compound. Which means, if I smashed it, I might get away with no-one seeing.
From outside, I hear a voice. Hooper’s. He’s haranguing someone, for something.
“Quite right,” I answer smartly.
He stares back at me. “Let’s get straight to the point. Do you have the component?” Harris demands. “Do you know where it is?”
“I had to get out, Harris. I had to provoke Hooper into doing something that would incriminate himself fully. He’s too clever, you see...”
“Be quiet, man. We know all about your and your sordid affairs.” The Captain curls his lip. “Don’t you know there’s a war on? Do you know the kind of place they would have sent you if it haven’t had been for that brain of yours? Don’t you think you owe it to your country to use it a little more?”
Do I, I wonder? Do I owe this country anything, this country that has spurned who and what am I since the day I became a man?
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
“It’s your problem. Your security breach. So much for your careful vetting process.” I lean back in my chair and fold my arms so the way they shake will not be visible. “You’d better get on with solving it, instead of wasting your time in here with me.”
Harris harrumphs. He’s thinking it all over.
Making a wide circuit I creep around the tent. It has plenty of other flaps and openings, tied down with Gordian complexity. But nothing afford itself to slipping the component inside.
“No. Not for more than a moment, of course. Everyone here is marked out by how little we would be willing to say about it.”
“Only you told this young man more than a little, didn’t you?”
I nod. “He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
“I’m not sure. I was asleep: I woke up when someone broke the window. I looked out to see who it was, but they were already gone.”
Harris looks at me with puzzlement. “Someone came by to break the window, and then ran off? That’s absurd. That’s utterly absurd. Admit it, Manning. You tried to escape and you couldn’t get through.”
“So would you,” I reply tartly. Harris raises an eyebrow.
“I’ve been through worse than this,” he replies matter-of-factly. “It’s hardly my fault if you sleep in your clothes.”
I glare back at him.
He goes over to the window, unlocks it and throws it open, relishing the fresh air from outside. “Hooper’s confessed, you know.”
Work carefully? It’s difficult to work carefully when all one’s has is nothing but brute force.
I pause for a moment longer. It doesn’t do to be too careless...
Then the door locks turns. The door opens. Then Jeremy - one of the guards, rather - sticks his head through the door. “I thought I heard...”
He stops. Looks for a moment. Sees the bucket in my hand. Then without a moment’s further thought he blows his shrill whistles and hustles into the hut, grabbing me roughly by my arms.
I’ll never know if I hadn’t have waited that extra moment - maybe I still could have got away. But, how far?
I’m hustled into one of the huts. Nowhere to sleep, but they’re not interested in my comfort any longer. Harris comes in with the Captain.
“So,” Harris remarks. “Looks like your little trap worked. Only it worked to show you out for what you are.”
“Absolutely.”
Harris opens the door and pushes me inside. “Captain,” he calls. “Could I have a moment?”
The Captain, looking puzzled, steps out. The door is closed. Hooper stares at me, open-mouthed, about to say something. I probably have less than a minute before the Captain storms back in and declares this plan to be bunkum.
“I know where it is.”
Harris stares back at me.
“I see.” There’s a long pause, like the endless delay between feeding in a line of cypher to the Bombe and waiting for its valves and cylinders to heat up enough to being processing. “Would you like to explain?”
“For God’s sake, man, what do you have to lose?”
“We’ll be outside the door,” Harris replies, seriously. “The first sign of any funny business and we’ll have you both on the floor in minutes. You understand? The country needs your brain, but it’s not too worried about your legs. Remember that.”
Then he gets to his feet, and opens the door, and marches me out and across the yard. The evening is drawing in and there’s a chill in the air. My mind is racing. I have one opportunity here - a moment in which to put the fear of God into Hooper and make him do something foolish to place himself in harm’s way. But how to achieve it?
“You ready?” Harris demands.
“No. Not for more than a moment, of course. Everyone here is marked out by how little we would be willing to say about it.”
“Only you told this young man more than a little, didn’t you?”
I nod. “He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
I nod. “I don’t need twelve minutes. The missing component of the Bombe computer is hidden in a small cavity in a breeze-block supporting the left rear post of Hut 2. I put in there anticipating a search. I intended to dispose of it once the fuss had died down. I suppose I was foolish to think that it might.”
“Indeed you were. And, Mr Manning: God help you if you’re lying to me.”
Harris stands, and slips away smartly. Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
But too important to guess. I move back around the side of the hut.
Harris is there, leaning in against the wall. He holds a stub pistol in his hand.
“Hooper said you’d told him where to look. I didn’t believe him. Or, well. I wasn’t sure what to believe. Now I rather think you’ve settled it.”
Morning comes. I’m woken by a rooster calling from the yard behind the House. I must have slept after all. I pull myself up from the bunk, shivering slightly. There is condensation on the inside of the window. I have probably given myself a chill.
The door handle turns and without knocking, Harris comes inside. “You’re up,” he remarks, and then, “You smell like an animal.”
I suppose I do not believe they will hang me. They will lock me up and continue to use my brain, if they can. I wonder what they will tell the world - perhaps that I have taken my own life. That would be simplest. The few who know me would believe it.
Well, then. Not a bad existence, in prison. Removed from temptation. A kind of imposed monasticism, with plenty more problems to solve, and more mysteries to fathom.
I wonder what else I might yet unravel before I’m done?
“Very well then.” I swallow nervously, to make it look more genuine. “No. I passed it on to Hooper.”
“I see. And what did he do with it?”
“You’re right. Let me talk to him, then. As a colleague. Maybe I can get something useful out of him.”
Harris shakes his head. “He despises you, doesn’t he? I don’t see why he’d give himself up to you.”
“Very well then.” I swallow nervously, to make it look more genuine. “No. I passed it on to Hooper.”
“I see. And what did he do with it?”
“No. I passed it on to Hooper.”
“I see. And what did he do with it?”
I leave the cup exactly where it is. “Why?” I ask coldly. “What’s in it?”
“Lapsang Souchong,” he remarks, placing his own cup down on the table with a clink. “Such a curious flavour. It might almost not be tea at all. You might say it hides a multitude of sins. As do you, isn’t that correct?”
“No, Harris. The young man wasn’t blackmailing me.” I take a deep breath. “It was Hooper.”
“Now look here,” Harris interrupts. “Don’t start that again.”
“It’s the truth, Harris. If I’m going to jail, then so be it, but I won’t hang at Traitor’s Gate. Hooper was the one who told the boy about our work. Hooper put the boy on to me. And then, once he had me compromised, he demanded I steal the part from the machine.”
“Which you did.” Harris leans forward. “And then what? You still have it? You put it somewhere?”
“You’re the one applying pressure here,” I answer smartly. “I’m just waiting until you tell me what is really going on.”
“It’s simple enough,” Harris replies. “I’ve seen the same story a hundred times before,” he says. “A young man like yourself - clever, somewhat removed from the world. The kind that doesn’t go to parties, you might say. Who takes himself a little too seriously, perhaps. Takes things too far. Further than a man should allow a thing to go. That’s the story, isn’t it? You took things too far, and then you couldn’t take them back. And now they have you.”
“I’m looking forward to having a wash and a change of clothes; which should make a little less evil to be around.”
“Very droll,” he replies. “Let me tell you what happened this morning, and see if it takes the smile off your face. Our men watching Hooper’s tent saw Hooper wake up, get dressed, clamber out of his tent and then remark with surprise as, while looking for his shoes, he stumbled on something just at the entrance of his tent.”
If I leave the component here somewhere it should be somewhere I can rely on Hooper finding it, but no-one before Hooper. In particular.
“No, Harris. I don’t think you can understand.”
“Go on with your confession,” he replies. That gives me pause, for a moment. I hadn’t thought of it as such. But I suppose that’s what this is. I am about to admit what I did, after all.
“There’s not much else to say. I took the part from Bombe computing device. You seem to know that already. I had to. He was going to expose me if I didn’t.”
“This young man was blackmailing you over your affair?”
As Harris speaks I find myself suddenly sharply aware, as if waking from a long sleep. The table, the corrugated walls of the hut, everything seems suddenly more tangible than a moment before. Perhaps whatever it was they put in my drink is wearing off?
“Absolutely.”
Harris opens the door and pushes me inside. “Captain,” he calls. “Could I have a moment?”
The Captain, looking puzzled, steps out. The door is closed. Hooper stares at me, open-mouthed, about to say something. I probably have less than a minute before the Captain storms back in and declares this plan to be bunkum.
“All right,” he declares, gruffly. “We’ll try it. But if this doesn’t work, I might just put the both of you in front of a firing squad and be done with these games. Worse things happen in time of war, you know.”
“Alone,” I add.
“Alone?”
“Alone.”
Harris considers it. I watch his eyes, flicking backwards and forwards over mine, like a ribbon-reader trying to load in its program.
There is nothing to be gained here. I have the component now; maybe it will be of some value tomorrow.
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
“It’s not that bad. I can still fix it.”
Harris shakes his head. “This isn’t a problem to be cracked. This isn’t a puzzle. I’m sorry, but this is bigger than you now. Look. You can go to prison for what you’ve done, or we can change your identity and move you somewhere where your... indiscretions... can’t hurt anyone any more. But right now none of that matters. What happens to you, doesn’t matter. All that matters is where that component is. So I’d like you to tell me, now. Where is it?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
“We don’t have to believe anyone,” Harris replies sternly. “I intend to know the truth and be happy with nothing else. Right now, your story doesn’t hold water. It doesn’t tie up. We know you’ve been leaving yourself open to accusations. We’ve been watching your activities for some time. But we thought you were endangering the reputation of this site with the Government; not risking the country herself. Perhaps I put too much trust in your intellectual pride.”
He pauses for a moment, considering something. Then he continues:
“It might have been Hooper. It might have been you. No-one here is in the business of guessing, you know that. Our business is to decode. To get to the bottom of whatever’s going on. You’ve not placed yourself beyond suspicion and until you do so...” Harris shrugs. “I’m afraid I have fewer and fewer choices as time goes on. If that component has left these grounds then every minute is critical.”
“The component?”
“Yes,” Harris replies levelly. “The component that went missing this afternoon. I doubt that you’ve forgotten.”
He’s talking about the missing reel from the Bombe. Russell discovered it this afternoon when the machine began producing strange results. We were all in the Hut when it happened and it had been in place when we sat down to work. The conclusions had been obvious to all four of us immediately, but had gone undiscussed, even after the empty socket was located, the wiring torn on either side.
“Lucky these things are easy to replace,” Russell had remarked, and that had been that. We had stopped work, sent out for a new part to be machined. And drunk our tea and watched each other.
“Come now,” Harris says, quite the reasonable gent. “As I told you. We’re not interviewing everyone. Only you. So. I think you can be a little more forthcoming.”
“Maybe I can help with that.”
“Oh, yes? And how, exactly?”
Morning comes slowly, but I must fall asleep at some point, because the next thing I know the rooster is calling and a cool, fresh breeze is blowing through the open window. I barely have time to wipe the sleep from my eyes and brush myself down before the door opens and Harris enters.
He takes one look around, and sighs, a deep, wistful sigh.
“Things just get worse and worse for you, Manning,” he remarks. “You are your own worst enemy.”
I have no God to make peace with. I find it difficult to believe in goodness of any kind, in a world such as this.
I have no place here. No way to fit. I am the intercept - caught, in the middle, cryptic and understood only thinly, through devices and machines.
That is Harris returning. Our little computation here is complete. I only hope one of the others will be able to explain to him that the part I stole will mean nothing to the Germans.
That is the true secret of the calculating engine, and the source of its power: not in the components themselves, but in how they are wired together. The diversity of patterns and structures they can form. Much like people - it is how they connect that determines our victories and tragedies, and not their genius.
Which makes me wonder. Should I give up my beautiful young man to them as well as myself?
“The Captain thought it was a good scheme. You’ll most likely get a promotion.”
“Let’s hope things work out,” Harris agrees darkly.
He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
“There’s nothing to explain,” I reply stiffly. “I know where your component is because it’s obvious where your component is. That doesn’t mean I took it, just because I can figure out a simple problem, any more than it means I’m a German spy because I can crack their codes.”
“Tell me, then,” he asks. “What’s your theory? You’re a smart fellow - as smart as they come around here, and that’s saying something. What’s your opinion on the missing component? Accident, perhaps? Or do you blame one of the other men?”
I look in through the door and catch Hooper’s expression. I had half expected him to be smiling be he isn’t. He looks shocked, almost hurt. “Iain,” he murmurs. “You couldn’t...”
The Captain comes outside, pulling the door to. “What’s this?” he asks. “A confession? Just like that?”
“No,” the Commander admits, in a low voice. “I’m afraid not. Rather more a scheme. The idea is to let Hooper go and see what he does. If he believes we have Manning here in irons, he’ll try to shift the component.”
“If he has it.”
“Indeed.”
The Captain peers at me for a moment, like I was some kind of curious insect.
“Sometimes, I think you people are magicians,” he remarks. “Other times you seem more like witches. Very well.”
With that he opens the door to the Hut and goes back inside. The Commander uses the moment to hustle me roughly forward.
“This scheme of yours had better come off,” he hisses in my ear. “Otherwise the Captain is going to start having men tailing me to see where I go on Saturdays.”
“No. Not for more than a moment, of course. Everyone here is marked out by how little we would be willing to say about it.”
“Only you told this young man more than a little, didn’t you?”
I nod. “He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
The bucket? Hardly. The bucket might do some good if I wanted to sweep up the glass afterwards, but it won’t help me smash the glass quietly.
“No.”
“Too bad.” Harris opens the door and pushes me inside. “Captain,” he calls. “Could I have a moment?”
The Captain, looking puzzled, steps out. The door is closed. Hooper stares at me, open-mouthed, about to say something. I probably have less than a minute before the Captain storms back in and declares this plan to be bunkum.
“There’s nothing to explain,” I reply stiffly. “I know where your component is because it’s obvious where your component is. That doesn’t mean I took it, just because I can figure out a simple problem, any more than it means I’m a German spy because I can crack their codes.”
“Tell me, then,” he asks. “What’s your theory? You’re a smart fellow - as smart as they come around here, and that’s saying something. What’s your opinion on the missing component? Accident, perhaps? Or do you blame one of the other men?”
“Well, then,” I answer, nervously. “What would he do? Either get rid of it straight away - or if that wasn’t possible, which it probably wouldn’t be, since he’d have to arrange things with his contacts - so most likely, he’d hide it somewhere and wait, until you had the rope around my neck and he could be sure he was safe.”
“Makes sense,” Harris agrees, cautiously. I can see he’s still not entirely convinced by my tale, as well he might not be - I’ve hardly been entirely straight with him. “Which means the question is, what can we do to rat him out?”
“Absolutely.”
Harris opens the door and pushes me inside. “Captain,” he calls. “Could I have a moment?”
The Captain, looking puzzled, steps out. The door is closed. Hooper stares at me, open-mouthed, about to say something. I probably have less than a minute before the Captain storms back in and declares this plan to be bunkum.
I let him have his rant. He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
It’s no good. That’s only half a solution. I couldn’t be happy with that.
No choice, then. Nothing, that is, except to act as if there is no game being played. I’ll have a bath, then start work as normal. I’ve got a week to find something to give my blackmailer. Something will turn up.
I lift the cup and take a sip, staring him hard in the eye as I do so. He watches as I do so.
“Lapsang Souchong,” he remarks, placing his own cup down on the table with a clink. “Such a curious flavour. It might almost not be tea at all. You might say it hides a multitude of sins. As do you, isn’t that correct?”
“This proves nothing,” I reply stubbornly. “You still don’t have the component and without it, I don’t see what you can hope to prove.”
“Be quiet, man. We know all about your and your sordid affairs.” The Captain curls his lip. “Don’t you know there’s a war on? Do you know the kind of place they would have sent you if it haven’t had been for that brain of yours? Don’t you think you owe it to your country to use it a little more?”
Do I, I wonder? Do I owe this country anything, this country that has spurned who and what am I since the day I became a man?
“You want me to tell you what happened? You’ll be disgusted, I’m quite sure.”
“I can imagine how it starts,” he growls.
“There was a young man, Harris. I met him in the town. A few months ago now. We got to talking - not about work. I said I was an accountant for a firm, just as I was supposed to. Although he seemed to know that wasn’t true. That got me wondering if he wasn’t one of us.”
Harris is not letting me off any more. “You seriously considered that possibility?”
That is Harris returning. Our little computation here is complete. I only hope one of the others will be able to explain to him that the part I stole will mean nothing to the Germans.
That is the true secret of the calculating engine, and the source of its power: not in the components themselves, but in how they are wired together. The diversity of patterns and structures they can form. Much like people - it is how they connect that determines our victories and tragedies, and not their genius.
Which makes me wonder. Should I give up my beautiful young man to them as well as myself?
“Trust me. He hasn’t. If I know that man, and I do, he’ll have wanted to keep his options open as long as possible. If the component’s gone then he’s committed and he’ll be hung for what he’s done. He’ll want to wait a week at least, make sure he’s escaped suspicion. And then he’ll pass it on.”
“And if we keep applying pressure to him, you think the component will eventually just turn up?”
I wait a few minutes, to be sure the Commander will have gone, then try the door. It’s locked, all right. I’m not really one for picking locks. Never tried it. I don’t think I’ll be getting out that way.
From outside, I hear a voice. Hooper’s. He’s haranguing someone, for something.
Making a wide circuit I creep around the tent. It has plenty of other flaps and openings, tied down with Gordian complexity. But nothing afford itself to slipping the component inside.
“So would you after the night I’ve had.”
“Well, I’m afraid it is going to get worse for you,” Harris replies soberly. “We followed Hooper, and he took himself neatly to bed and slept like a boy scout. Which puts us back to square one, and you firmly in the frame. And I’m afraid I don’t have time for any more games. I want you to tell me where that component is, or we will hang you as a traitor.”
He passes a hand across his eyes with a long look of despair.
“I’m going to go outside and organise a rope. That’ll take about twelve minutes. That’s how long you have to decide.”
I settle down to wait.
Night falls. The clockwork of the heavens keeps turning, whatever state I might be in. No-one can steal the components that make the sun go down and the stars come out. I watch it performing its operations. I can’t sleep.
“Try me. Just me and him.”
“Alone?”
“Alone.”
Harris considers it. I watch his eyes, flicking backwards and forwards over mine, like a ribbon-reader trying to load in its program.
I shift in my seat. “Not really. The boy was a simpleton, obviously. My intellectual inferior. His good opinion meant nothing to be. Harris, please do not misunderstand me. I was simply after his body.”
Harris, to his credit, doesn’t flinch. Well, perhaps not: but he’ll have nightmares of this moment tonight. I’m almost tempted to reach out and try to take his hand to worsen it for him, but I hold back.
“Go on with your confession,” he replies. I shrug.
“There’s not much else to say. I took the part from Bombe computing device. You seem to know that already. I had to. He was going to expose me if I didn’t.”
“This young man was blackmailing you over your affair?”
“It’s not that bad. I can still fix it.”
Harris shakes his head. “This isn’t a problem to be cracked. This isn’t a puzzle. I’m sorry, but this is bigger than you now. Look. You can go to prison for what you’ve done, or we can change your identity and move you somewhere where your... indiscretions... can’t hurt anyone any more. But right now none of that matters. What happens to you, doesn’t matter. All that matters is where that component is. So I’d like you to tell me, now. Where is it?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
I have no God to make peace with. I find it difficult to believe in goodness of any kind, in a world such as this.
But I am no traitor. At least, not to my country. To my sex, perhaps. But how could I support the Reich? If it were to come to power, I would be worse off than under the already dire circumstances of my existence.
In truth, it is men like Harris who are complex, not men like me. I live to make things ordered, systematic. I like my pencils sharpened and lined up in a row. I do not deal in difficult borders, or uncertainties, or alliances. If I could, I would reduce the world to something easier to understand, something finite. But of course, I cannot, not even here, in this little micro-world, this safe haven from the horrors of the war.
I have no place here. No way to fit. I am the intercept - caught, in the middle, cryptic and understood only thinly, through devices and machines.
Work carefully? It’s difficult to work carefully when all one’s has is a bucket. It’s rather like the sledgehammer for the proverbial nut.
I put my ear down to the keyhole, but there’s nothing now. Probably still a guard outside, of course, but they’re keeping mum.
Next. To Hooper’s dorm. Time to wrap up this little game once and for all.
I creep around the outside of the Huts. All are quiet, steel-grey in the hazy moonlight; a few shining copper from arc-lamps strung from the trees. A few guards patrol the area at night but not many - after all, very few know this place even exists.
Our quarters are arranged away from the House; where we sleep is of less importance than where we work. We each have our own Hut, through some are less permanent than other’s. Hooper’s is a military issue tent: quite a large canopy, with two rooms inside and a short porch area where he insists people leave their shoes. It’s all zipped up for the night and no light shines from inside.
I hang back for a moment. If Harris is keeping to the terms of our deal then someone will be watching this place. But I can see no-one.
I have no God to make peace with. I find it difficult to believe in goodness of any kind, in a world such as this.
I have no place here. No way to fit. I am the intercept - caught, in the middle, cryptic and understood only thinly, through devices and machines.
“No,” Harris declares, finally. “I think you’re lying about Hooper. I think you’re a clever, scheming young man - that’s why we hired you - and you’re looking for the only reasonable out this situation has to offer. But I’m not taking it. We know you were in the room with the machine, we know you’re of a perverted persuasion, we know you have compromised yourself. There’s nothing more to say here. Either you tell me what you’ve done with that component, or we will hang you and search just as hard. It’s your choice.”
He gets to his feet, and gathers his gloves from the table top.
“I’m going to go outside and organise a rope. That’ll take about twelve minutes. That’s how long you have to decide.”
The rest of the night passes slowly. I sleep a little, dozing mostly. Then I’m woken by the rooster in the yard. The door opens, and Harris comes in. He takes one look at the broken window and frowns with puzzlement.
“What happened there?”
I go over to the window and try to jimmy it open. Not much luck, but in my struggling I notice this window only backs on the thin little brook that runs down the back of the compound. Which means, if I smashed it, I might get away with no-one seeing.
“What could I do?” I’m shaking now. The night is cold and the heat-lamp in this hut has been removed, presumably to keep me alert and on edge. “I won’t go to prison.”
“You committed a crime,” Harris answers. If I had any sense that he understood my predicament, and that he felt for my state of being, it collapses like a chain with a broken link. “You thought you could repair it with another, more serious crime?” He shakes his head. “I thought you men were supposed to be clever. But this is the action of a frightened woman. So I’d like you to tell me, now. Where is it?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
No, I am content. I suppose I do not believe they will hang me. They will lock me up and continue to use my brain, if they can. I wonder what they will tell the world - perhaps that I have taken my own life. That would be simplest. The few who know me would believe it.
Well, then. Not a bad existence, in prison. Removed from temptation. A kind of imposed monasticism, with plenty more problems to solve, and more mysteries to fathom.
I wonder what else I might yet unravel before I’m done?
No, I am content. I suppose I do not believe they will hang me. They will lock me up and continue to use my brain, if they can. I wonder what they will tell the world - perhaps that I have taken my own life. That would be simplest. The few who know me would believe it.
Well, then. Not a bad existence, in prison. Removed from temptation. A kind of imposed monasticism, with plenty more problems to solve, and more mysteries to fathom.
I wonder what else I might yet unravel before I’m done?
I creep forward to the tent, intent on lifting the zip to the front porch area just a little - enough to slip the component inside, and without the risk of the noise waking Hooper from his snoring.
The work is careful, and more than little fiddly - Hooper has tied the zips down on the inside, the fastidious little bastard! - but after a little work I manage to make a hole large enough for my hand.
“You want me to tell you what happened? You’ll be disgusted, I’m quite sure.”
“I can imagine how it starts,” he growls.
“There was a young man, Harris. I met him in the town. A few months ago now. We got to talking - not about work. I said I was an accountant for a firm, just as I was supposed to. Although he seemed to know that wasn’t true. That got me wondering if he wasn’t one of us.”
Harris is not letting me off any more. “You seriously considered that possibility?”
“It will. Hooper’s running scared,” I reply, hoping I sound more confident than I feel.
“I think we’ve had enough drama today already,” Harris replies. “Let’s hope for a clean kill.”
He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
I go over to the window and try to jimmy it open. Not much luck, but in my struggling I notice this window only backs on the thin little brook that runs down the back of the compound. Which means, if I smashed it, I might get away with no-one seeing.
“I’m no traitor, damn it. You know I’m not. How much work have I done here? Against the Germans? Cracking their codes? Understanding their secrets? I’ve given it my all! And you know as well as I do, if the Reich were to invade, I would be a dead man for being what I am. So please, Hooper. I’m not doing any of this lightly. But I’m in a jam!”
“Assuming I wanted to help you,” he replies, carefully. “Which I don’t. What would I do?”
“Nothing. Almost nothing.
All you have to do is go to the back of Hut 2. There’s a breeze-block with a cavity. That’s where I’ve put it. I’ll be locked up overnight, I should think. But you can pick it up and pass it to my contact. He’ll be at the south fence around two AM."
“If you think I’ll do that then you’re crazy,” Hooper replies.
At that moment the door flies open and the Captain comes storming back inside.
Harris hustles me over to the barracks. “I hope that’s the end of it,” he mutters as he pushes me up the steps.
“Just be sure to let him out,” I reply. “And then see where he goes.”
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
I put my ear down to the keyhole, but there’s nothing now. Probably still a guard outside, of course, but they’re keeping mum.
Quickly, I pull it free, and slip it into the pocket of my jacket.
Where now?
I put my ear down to the keyhole, but there’s nothing now. Probably still a guard outside, of course, but they’re keeping mum.
The bunk has a solid metal frame, a blanket, a pillow, nothing more.
I suppose I do not believe they will hang me. They will lock me up and continue to use my brain, if they can. I wonder what they will tell the world - perhaps that I have taken my own life. That would be simplest. The few who know me would believe it.
Well, then. Not a bad existence, in prison. Removed from temptation. A kind of imposed monasticism, with plenty more problems to solve, and more mysteries to fathom.
I wonder what else I might yet unravel before I’m done?
“I’m looking forward to a long bath,” I reply. “And getting back to work.”
“Well, I’m afraid it is going to get worse for you,” Harris replies soberly. “We followed Hooper, and he took himself neatly to bed and slept like a boy scout. Which puts us back to square one, and you firmly in the frame. And I’m afraid I don’t have time for any more games. I want you to tell me where that component is, or we will hang you as a traitor.”
He passes a hand across his eyes with a long look of despair.
“I’m going to go outside and organise a rope. That’ll take about twelve minutes. That’s how long you have to decide.”
I creep forward to the tent, intent on lifting the zip to the front porch area just a little - enough to slip the component inside, and without the risk of the noise waking Hooper from his snoring.
The work is careful, and more than little fiddly - Hooper has tied the zips down on the inside, the fastidious little bastard! - but after a little work I manage to make a hole large enough for my hand.
“I’d be happy to help,” I answer, sympathetically, leaning forward across the table. “I’m sure there’s something I could do.”
“Like what, exactly?”
I pause for a moment longer. It doesn’t do to be too careless...
Then the door locks turns. The door opens. Then Jeremy - one of the guards, rather - sticks his head through the door. “I thought I heard...”
He stops. Looks for a moment. Sees the broken window. Then without a moment’s further thought he blows his shrill whistles and hustles into the hut, grabbing me roughly by my arms.
I’ll never know if I hadn’t have waited that extra moment - maybe I still could have got away. But, how far?
I’m hustled into one of the huts. Nowhere to sleep, but they’re not interested in my comfort any longer. Harris comes in with the Captain.
“So,” Harris remarks. “Looks like your little trap worked. Only it worked to show you out for what you are.”
“No. I didn’t.”
“This is all too far-fetched,” Harris says. “I’m glad to have this back, but I need to think.”
Getting to his feet, he nods once. “You’ll have to wait a little longer, I’m afraid, Manning.”
Then he steps out of the door, muttering to himself.
“Yes, perhaps. But also to ensure your name goes down in the annals of mathematics. All you have to do is go to the back of Hut 2. There’s a breeze-block with a cavity. That’s where I’ve put it. I’ll be locked up overnight, I should think. But you can pick it up and pass it to my contact. He’ll be at the south fence around two AM.”
“If you think I’ll do that then you’re crazy,” Hooper replies.
At that moment the door flies open and the Captain comes storming back inside.
Harris hustles me over to the barracks. “I hope that’s the end of it,” he mutters as he pushes me up the steps.
“Just be sure to let him out,” I reply. “And then see where he goes.”
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
I put my ear down to the keyhole, but there’s nothing now. Probably still a guard outside, of course, but they’re keeping mum.
“No. I have no idea.”
He’s talking about the missing reel from the Bombe. Russell discovered it this afternoon when the machine began producing strange results. We were all in the Hut when it happened and it had been in place when we sat down to work. The conclusions had been obvious to all four of us immediately, but had gone undiscussed, even after the empty socket was located, the wiring torn on either side.
“Lucky these things are easy to replace,” Russell had remarked, and that had been that. We had stopped work, sent out for a new part to be machined. And drunk our tea and watched each other.
“Come now,” Harris says, quite the reasonable gent. “As I told you. We’re not interviewing everyone. Only you. So. I think you can be a little more forthcoming.”
“I can’t remember.”
He draws his gun and lays it lightly on the field table.
“I’m sorry to threaten you, friend. But His Majesty needs that brain of yours, and that brain alone. There are plenty of other parts to you that our country could do better without. Now I’ll ask you again. Did you hide the component?”
Moving quickly and quietly, I hoist myself up onto the window-frame and worm my way outside into the freezing night air. Then I’m away, slipping down the paths between the Huts, sticking to the shadows, on my way to Hut 2.
I give no reaction. She sighs to herself, as if this kind of behaviour is normal, and trots away inside the House to begin her duties.
I turn the corner of Hut 3 and walk down the short gravel path to Hut 2. It was a good spot to choose - Hut 2 is where the electricians work, and they’re generally focussed on what they’re doing. They don’t often come outside to smoke a cigarette so it’s easy to slip past the doorway unnoticed.
I have no God to make peace with. I find it difficult to believe in goodness of any kind, in a world such as this.
But I am no traitor. At least, not to my country. To my sex, perhaps. But how could I support the Reich? If it were to come to power, I would be worse off than under the already dire circumstances of my existence.
In truth, it is men like Harris who are complex, not men like me. I live to make things ordered, systematic. I like my pencils sharpened and lined up in a row. I do not deal in difficult borders, or uncertainties, or alliances. If I could, I would reduce the world to something easier to understand, something finite. But of course, I cannot, not even here, in this little micro-world, this safe haven from the horrors of the war.
I have no place here. No way to fit. I am the intercept - caught, in the middle, cryptic and understood only thinly, through devices and machines.
“Hooper, I’ll make a deal with you. We both know what happened in that hut this afternoon. I know because I did it, and you know because you know you didn’t. But once this is done I’ll be rich, and I’ll split that with you. I’ll let you have the results, too. Your name on the discovery of the Bombe. And it won’t hurt the war effort - you know as well as me that the component on its own is worthless, it’s the wiring of the Bombe, the usage, that’s what’s valuable. So how about it?”
Hooper looks back at me, appalled. “You’re asking me to commit treason?”
“Yes, I considered it. He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
I put my ear down to the keyhole, but there’s nothing now. Probably still a guard outside, of course, but they’re keeping mum.
“You mean he didn’t even hide it? Just put it in his shoe?”
“No,” Harris replies. “That isn’t really what I mean. I mean, he managed to find it, by accident, somewhere where it wasn’t the night before. And at the same time, you’re sitting here with your window broken. So, I rather think you’ve played your last hand and lost. There’s no way Hooper stole that component and then just left it lying around in the doorway of his tent. No way at all. So I came to tell you that the game is up for you.”
He nods and gets to his feet. Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
“I suppose I do rather.” I laugh, but Harris does not.
“This damn business gets worse and worse,” he says, talking as he goes over to unlock and throw open the window. “Hooper’s confessed, you know.”
“No, of course not.” I push the teacup around on its base. “All I can say is, ever since I arrived here, he’s been looking to ways to bring me down a peg. I wouldn’t be surprised if he set this whole affair up just to have me court-martialled.”
“We don’t court-martial civilians,” Harris replies. “Traitors are simply hung at her Majesty’s pleasure.”
“No. Not for more than a moment, of course. Everyone here is marked out by how little we would be willing to say about it.”
“Only you told this young man more than a little, didn’t you?”
I nod. “He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
I put my ear to the keyhole but can make out nothing. Are there still guards posted? Perhaps, if Hooper has managed to incriminate himself, the guards have been removed?
Perhaps the door is unlocked and they left me to sleep? I try the handle. No such luck.
The night draws on at its own pace. I suppose by morning I will know my fate.
“No, Harris. The young man wasn’t blackmailing me.” I take a deep breath. “It was Hooper.”
“Now look here,” Harris interrupts. “Don’t start that again.”
“It’s the truth, Harris. If I’m going to jail, then so be it, but I won’t hang at Traitor’s Gate. Hooper was the one who told the boy about our work. Hooper put the boy on to me. And then, once he had me compromised, he demanded I steal the part from the machine.”
“Which you did.” Harris leans forward. “And then what? You still have it? You put it somewhere?”
“No. I passed it on to Hooper.”
“I see. And what did he do with it?”
“It’s not that bad. I can still fix it.”
Harris shakes his head. “This isn’t a problem to be cracked. This isn’t a puzzle. I’m sorry, but this is bigger than you now. Look. You can go to prison for what you’ve done, or we can change your identity and move you somewhere where your... indiscretions... can’t hurt anyone any more. But right now none of that matters. What happens to you, doesn’t matter. All that matters is where that component is. So I’d like you to tell me, now. Where is it?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
“I saw him take it,” I reply, stubbornly. “Collins and Humph were outside having a cigarette, I think. The other two men were at the table. But I was at the front of the machine. I saw Hooper go around the side, and lean down, and pull something free. I even challenged him on it. I said, ‘What’s that? Someone put a nail through somewhere they shouldn’t have?’ He didn’t reply.”
“We are left with two possibilities, quite clearly. You, or Hooper.” The Commander pauses to smooth down his moustache. “Hooper’s in Hut 3 with the Captain, having a similar conversation.”
“An accident, naturally.” I risk a smile. “That damned machine, Harris; it’s made from spare parts and string. Even these huts leak when it rains. It wouldn’t take more than one fellow to trip over a cable to shake out a component and have it roll away across the floor. Have you tried looking under the thing?”
Harris doesn’t smile. “Do you suppose we haven’t? Do you supposed we haven’t combed every inch of this place already?”
In a sudden moment I understand that his reply is a threat.
“Now,” he continues. “Are you sure there isn’t anything you want to tell me?”
I slip off my jacket and hold it with one hand over the glass. This should do it. Then I heft back my arm, and take a strong swing, trying to imagine it’s Harris’ face on the other side.
The sound of the impact is muffled. With my arm still covered, I sweep out the remaining glass in the frame. I’m ready to escape. The only trouble is - when they look in on me in the morning, there will be no question what has happened. It won’t help me one jot with shifting suspicion off my back.
“Nothing,” I reply. “You’re just the other man in the room. One of us has to get the blame.”
I get to my feet and open the door of the Hut. The Captain storms back inside and I’m quickly thrown out. Harris hustles me over to the barracks. “I hope that’s the end of it,” he mutters as he pushes me up the steps.
“Just be sure to let him out,” I reply. “And then see where he goes.”
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. Thinking back, I should have wrapped the part from the Bombe in one of his shirts before hiding it, that would have been a clever move. I really do make a terrible spy.
Of course not. I am alone; that is what they wanted me to be, because of who and what I love. So I have no nation, no country.
“I’m afraid we have only one option, Manning,” Harris says. “Please, man. Tell us where the component is.”
I go over to the window and try to jimmy it open. Not much luck, but in my struggling I notice this window only backs on the thin little brook that runs down the back of the compound. Which means, if I smashed it, I might get away with no-one seeing.
From outside, I hear a voice. Hooper’s. He’s haranguing someone, for something.
I put my ear down to the keyhole, but there’s nothing now. Probably still a guard outside, of course, but they’re keeping mum.
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
“Ask the others,” I reply, leaning back. “They’ll tell you. If they haven’t already, that’s only because they’re protecting Hooper. Hoping he’ll come to his senses and stop being an idiot. I hope he does too. And if you lock him up in a freezing hut like you’ve done me, I’m sure he will.”
“We have,” Harris replies simply.
It’s all I can do not to gape.
“Hooper’s in Hut 3 with the Captain, having a similar conversation.”
I settle down to wait.
Night falls. The clockwork of the heavens keeps turning, whatever state I might be in. No-one can steal the components that make the sun go down and the stars come out. I watch it performing its operations. I can’t sleep.
Has Hooper taken my bait?
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
“You want me to tell you what happened? You’ll be disgusted, I’m quite sure.”
“I can imagine how it starts,” he growls.
“There was a young man, Harris. I met him in the town. A few months ago now. We got to talking - not about work. I said I was an accountant for a firm, just as I was supposed to. Although he seemed to know that wasn’t true. That got me wondering if he wasn’t one of us.”
Harris is not letting me off any more. “You seriously considered that possibility?”
That is Harris returning. Our little computation here is complete.
That is the true secret of the calculating engine, and the source of its power: not in the components themselves, but in how they are wired together. The diversity of patterns and structures they can form. Much like people - it is how they connect that determines our victories and tragedies, and not their genius.
Which makes me wonder. Should I give the young man who put me in this spot to them as well as myself?
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
“I’ve thought so before.”
“Let me tell you what happened this morning. Our men watching Hooper’s tent saw Hooper wake up, get dressed, clamber out of his tent and then remark with surprise as, while looking for his shoes, he stumbled on something just at the entrance of his tent.”
Quickly, I pull it free, and slip it into the pocket of my jacket.
Where now?
“I’ll work as hard as I work.”
“Get out,” Harris growls. “Before I decide to arrest you as an accessory.”
I do as he says. Outside the barrack, the air has never smelt sweeter.
I head for my dorm, intent on a bath, breakfast, a glance at the crossword before the other men get to it, and then on with work. They should have replaced the component in the Bombe by now. We will be back to it, only a day behind.
I bump into Russell in the dorm hut. “Did you hear?” he whispers. “Terrible news about Hooper. Absolutely terrible.”
“That’s exactly it,” I say quietly. “Harris. You understand. There are some things... which can get a man into a lot of trouble. Things one shouldn’t do.”
Harris, to his credit, doesn’t stiffen. He doesn’t lean away, or remove his hands from the table-top as though my condition might be infectious. I thought they trained them in the army to shoot my kind on sight but he does not.
Of course, he does not offer any sympathy either. He only nods, once. The understanding that has passed between us here is a mere turning cog in his calculations, with no meaning or righteousness to it.
“I’ve seen the same story a hundred times before,” he says. “A young man like yourself - clever, somewhat removed from the world. The kind that doesn’t go to parties, you might say. Who takes himself a little too seriously, perhaps. Takes things too far. Further than a man should allow a thing to go. That’s the story, isn’t it? You took things too far, and then you couldn’t take them back. And now they have you.”
“Explain what you should be doing, do you mean, rather than bullying me? Certainly.” I fold my arms. “I know where your component is because it’s obvious where your component is. That doesn’t mean I took it, just because I can figure out a simple problem, any more than it means I’m a German spy because I can crack their codes.”
“Tell me, then,” he asks. “What’s your theory? You’re a smart fellow - as smart as they come around here, and that’s saying something. What’s your opinion on the missing component? Accident, perhaps? Or do you blame one of the other men?”
“Yes. Something like that. It’s a very lonely life otherwise. And the work we do - well. It only makes it worse. There’s barely a moment to oneself.”
“That’s how it is in the Service,” Harris answers. “I know you didn’t sign up for it but, well. There’s plenty of other men who didn’t who are serving now, too. Now, go on with your confession.”
That gives me pause, for a moment. I hadn’t thought of it as such. But I suppose that’s what this is. I am about to admit what I did, after all.
“There’s not much else to say. I took the part from Bombe computing device. You seem to know that already. I had to. He was going to expose me if I didn’t.”
“This young man was blackmailing you over your affair?”
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
“Well, I’m glad his conscience finally caught up with him,” I reply dismissively.
“The Captain went back into that hut and he confessed immediately. We were so surprised we didn’t let you go.” He wrinkles his nose. “I’m rather sorry about that now, but I suppose we’ll let you go know. I suggest you have a wash.”
And with that he gestures to the doorway.
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
“Well, I’m glad his conscience finally caught up with him,” I reply dismissively.
“The Captain went back into that hut and he confessed immediately. We were so surprised we didn’t let you go.” He wrinkles his nose. “I’m rather sorry about that now, but I suppose we’ll let you go know. I suggest you have a wash.”
And with that he gestures to the doorway.
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
“All right. All right. That’s exactly what happened.”
“Shame,” he remarks. “I should have left that window open and put a guard on you. Might have been interesting to see where you went. Anyway, I’m glad you’re still here, even if you do smell like a dog.”
But what is a country, after all? A country is not a concept, not an ideal. Every country falls, its borders shift and move, its language disappears to be replaced by another. Neither the Reich nor the British Empire will survive forever, so what use is my loyalty to either?
I may as well, therefore, look after myself. Something I have attempted, but failed miserably, to do.
“I’m afraid we have only one option, Manning,” Harris says. “Please, man. Tell us where the component is.”
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
Next. To Hooper’s dorm. Time to wrap up this little game once and for all.
I creep around the outside of the Huts. All are quiet, steel-grey in the hazy moonlight; a few shining copper from arc-lamps strung from the trees. A few guards patrol the area at night but not many - after all, very few know this place even exists.
Our quarters are arranged away from the House; where we sleep is of less importance than where we work. We each have our own Hut, through some are less permanent than other’s. Hooper’s is a military issue tent: quite a large canopy, with two rooms inside and a short porch area where he insists people leave their shoes. It’s all zipped up for the night and no light shines from inside.
I hang back for a moment. If Harris is keeping to the terms of our deal then someone will be watching this place. But I can see no-one.
“Just adding to the drama,” I tell him, confidently. “I’m sure you can understand that.”
“I think we’ve had enough drama today already,” Harris replies. “Let’s hope for a clean kill.”
He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. I can only hope that Hooper bites on my baited hook. If he thinks I’m mad and bitter enough to have framed him somehow, and arrogant enough to have taunted him with a clue to where the damning evidence is hidden... if he hates me enough, and is paranoid enough, then he might unravel my little riddle and go searching around Hut 2.
Thinking back, I should have wrapped the part from the Bombe in one of his shirts before hiding it, that would have been a clever move. I really do make a terrible spy.
“I know where it is.”
Harris stares back at me.
“I see.” There’s a long pause, like the endless delay between feeding in a line of cypher to the Bombe and waiting for its valves and cylinders to heat up enough to being processing. “Would you like to explain?”
“So he’s an idiot, and he hid it in his shoe.”
“No,” Harris replies. “That isn’t really what I mean. I mean, he managed to find it, by accident, somewhere where it wasn’t the night before. And at the same time, you’re sitting here with your window broken. So, I rather think you’ve played your last hand and lost. There’s no way Hooper stole that component and then just left it lying around in the doorway of his tent. No way at all. So I came to tell you that the game is up for you.”
He nods and gets to his feet. Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
After a chance like this? A chance - however real - to save my neck? To hand it over - what, to save Hooper’s worthless skin?
I wait a few minutes, to be sure Hooper and the Captain will have gone, then try the door. It’s locked, all right. I’m not really one for picking locks. Never tried it. I don’t think I’ll be getting out that way.
“I was quite certain, after a while. After we’d been talking. He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
“I know nothing about it.” My voice is shaking as I try to speak. I’m not accustomed to facing off against the Commander - against any man with a gun in his holster. “I don’t know what gives you the right to pick on me. Shouldn’t I have a lawyer?”
“This is time of war,” Harris answers. His tone of voice has fallen down into darkness. “And by God, if I have to shoot you to recover the component or stop it falling into the wrong hands, I will, do you understand me?”
There’s an icy silence. He’s angry. He waves an impetuous hand across the field table.
“Now, drink your tea and talk.”
“Yes. Something like that. It’s a very lonely life otherwise. And the work we do - well. It only makes it worse. There’s barely a moment to oneself.”
“That’s how it is in the Service,” Harris answers. “I know you didn’t sign up for it but, well. There’s plenty of other men who didn’t who are serving now, too. Now, go on with your confession.”
That gives me pause, for a moment. I hadn’t thought of it as such. But I suppose that’s what this is. I am about to admit what I did, after all.
“There’s not much else to say. I took the part from Bombe computing device. You seem to know that already. I had to. He was going to expose me if I didn’t.”
“This young man was blackmailing you over your affair?”
As Harris speaks I find myself suddenly sharply aware, as if waking from a long sleep. The table, the corrugated walls of the hut, everything seems suddenly more tangible than a moment before. Perhaps whatever it was they put in my drink is wearing off?
I go over to the window and try to jimmy it open. Not much luck, but in my struggling I notice this window only backs on the thin little brook that runs down the back of the compound. Which means, if I smashed it, I might get away with no-one seeing.
“Very well then.” I swallow nervously, to make it look more genuine. “No. I passed it on to Hooper.”
“I see. And what did he do with it?”
“I was quite certain, after a while. After we’d been talking. He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
I creep forward to the tent, intent on lifting the zip to the front porch area just a little - enough to slip the component inside, and without the risk of the noise waking Hooper from his snoring.
The work is careful, and more than little fiddly - Hooper has tied the zips down on the inside, the fastidious little bastard! - but after a little work I manage to make a hole large enough for my hand.
Making a wide circuit I creep around the tent. It has plenty of other flaps and openings, tied down with Gordian complexity. But nothing afford itself to slipping the component inside.
The blanket. Perfect. I scoop it up off the bed and hold it in place over the window. This should do it. Then I heft my shoe by its toe, and take a strong swing, trying to imagine it’s Harris’ face on the other side.
The sound of the impact is muffled. With my arm still covered, I sweep out the remaining glass in the frame. I’m ready to escape. The only trouble is - when they look in on me in the morning, there will be no question what has happened. It won’t help me one jot with shifting suspicion off my back.
I have no God to make peace with. I find it difficult to believe in goodness of any kind, in a world such as this.
I have no place here. No way to fit. I am the intercept - caught, in the middle, cryptic and understood only thinly, through devices and machines.
I lift the cup to my lips and take a sip, trying to act natural. He watches as I do so.
“Lapsang Souchong,” he remarks, placing his own cup down on the table with a clink. “Such a curious flavour. It might almost not be tea at all. You might say it hides a multitude of sins. As do you, isn’t that correct?”
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
I look in through the door and catch Hooper’s expression. I had half expected him to be smiling be he isn’t. He looks shocked, almost hurt. “Iain,” he murmurs. “You couldn’t...”
The Captain comes outside, pulling the door to. “What’s this?” he asks. “A confession? Just like that?”
“No,” the Commander admits, in a low voice. “I’m afraid not. Rather more a scheme. The idea is to let Hooper go and see what he does. If he believes we have Manning here in irons, he’ll try to shift the component.”
“If he has it.”
“Indeed.”
The Captain peers at me for a moment, like I was some kind of curious insect.
“Sometimes, I think you people are magicians,” he remarks. “Other times you seem more like witches. Very well.”
With that he opens the door to the Hut and goes back inside. The Commander uses the moment to hustle me roughly forward.
“This scheme of yours had better come off,” he hisses in my ear. “Otherwise the Captain is going to start having men tailing me to see where I go on Saturdays.”
I lift the cup and take a sip, trying to act natural. He watches as I do so.
“Lapsang Souchong,” he remarks, placing his own cup down on the table with a clink. “Such a curious flavour. It might almost not be tea at all. You might say it hides a multitude of sins. As do you, isn’t that correct?”
“No, Harris. I don’t think you can understand.”
“Go on with your confession,” he replies. That gives me pause, for a moment. I hadn’t thought of it as such. But I suppose that’s what this is. I am about to admit what I did, after all.
“There’s not much else to say. I took the part from Bombe computing device. You seem to know that already. I had to. He was going to expose me if I didn’t.”
“This young man was blackmailing you over your affair?”
As Harris speaks I find myself suddenly sharply aware, as if waking from a long sleep. The table, the corrugated walls of the hut, everything seems suddenly more tangible than a moment before. Perhaps whatever it was they put in my drink is wearing off?
From where he’s sitting, I know Hooper can see me, so I keep my head down and look guilty as sin. The bastard is probably smiling.
The Captain comes outside, pulling the door to. “What’s this?” he asks. “A confession? Just like that?”
“No,” the Commander admits, in a low voice. “I’m afraid not. Rather more a scheme. The idea is to let Hooper go and see what he does. If he believes we have Manning here in irons, he’ll try to shift the component.”
“If he has it.”
“Indeed.”
The Captain peers at me for a moment, like I was some kind of curious insect.
“Sometimes, I think you people are magicians,” he remarks. “Other times you seem more like witches. Very well.”
With that he opens the door to the Hut and goes back inside. The Commander uses the moment to hustle me roughly forward.
“This scheme of yours had better come off,” he hisses in my ear. “Otherwise the Captain is going to start having men tailing me to see where I go on Saturdays.”
The weight of the Bombe component safely in my jacket, I return the short way up the paths between the huts to the barrack block and the broken window.
It’s a little harder getting back through - the window is higher off the ground than the floor inside - but after a decent bit of jumping and hauling I manage to get my elbows up, and then one leg, and finally I collapse inside, quite winded and out breath.
Making a wide circuit I creep around the tent. It has plenty of other flaps and openings, tied down with Gordian complexity. But nothing afford itself to slipping the component inside.
The bucket? Hardly. The bucket might do some good if I wanted to sweep up the glass afterwards, but it won’t help me smash the glass quietly.
“Very well then.” I swallow nervously, to make it look more genuine. “No. I passed it on to Hooper.”
“I see. And what did he do with it?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Hooper’s been taken away. They caught him, uncovering that missing Bombe component from a hiding place somewhere, apparently about to take it to his contact.” Russell harrumphs. “Quince was saying this morning, apparently his grandfather was German. So perhaps it’s to be expected. See you there?”
I wave to him and move away, my thoughts turning to the young man in the village. My lover. My contact. My blackmailer. Hooper may have taken the fall for the missing component, but its recovery does mean I have nothing to sell to save my reputation.
“I’ll talk to him.”
“What?”
“Put me in with Hooper. Maybe I can get something useful out of him. As his colleague.”
Harris shakes his head. “He despises you, doesn’t he? I don’t see why he’d give himself up to you.”
I peer out of the window, but it looks out onto the little brook at the back of the compound, with no view of the other huts or the House. Who knows if there are men up, searching the base of Hut 2, following one another with flashlights...
Perhaps Hooper is there, in the dark, trying to help me after all?
The night draws on at its own pace. I suppose by morning I will know my fate.
I wait a few minutes, to be sure the Commander will have gone, then try the door. It’s locked, all right. I’m not really one for picking locks. Never tried it. I don’t think I’ll be getting out that way.
From outside, I hear a voice. Hooper’s. He’s haranguing someone, for something.
From where he’s sitting, I know Hooper can see me, so I keep my head down and look guilty as sin. The bastard is probably smiling.
The Captain comes outside, pulling the door to. “What’s this?” he asks. “A confession? Just like that?”
“No,” the Commander admits, in a low voice. “I’m afraid not. Rather more a scheme. The idea is to let Hooper go and see what he does. If he believes we have Manning here in irons, he’ll try to shift the component.”
“If he has it.”
“Indeed.”
The Captain peers at me for a moment, like I was some kind of curious insect.
“Sometimes, I think you people are magicians,” he remarks. “Other times you seem more like witches. Very well.”
With that he opens the door to the Hut and goes back inside. The Commander uses the moment to hustle me roughly forward.
“This scheme of yours had better come off,” he hisses in my ear. “Otherwise the Captain is going to start having men tailing me to see where I go on Saturdays.”
The window is my only way out of here. I just need a way to smash it.
“None of us are blameless, Harris. But you’re not my priest and I’m not yours. Now, please. Let me go. I’ll help you find this damn component, of course I will.”
He appears to consider the offer.
“Tell me, then,” he asks. “What’s your theory? You’re a smart fellow - as smart as they come around here, and that’s saying something. What’s your opinion on the missing component? Accident, perhaps? Or do you blame one of the other men? Hooper?”
“No. It’s not treason. It’s a trade, plain and simple.”
“If you think I’ll do that then you’re crazy,” Hooper replies.
At that moment the door flies open and the Captain comes storming back inside.
Harris hustles me over to the barracks. “I hope that’s the end of it,” he mutters as he pushes me up the steps.
“Just be sure to let him out,” I reply. “And then see where he goes.”
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
If I leave the component here somewhere it should be somewhere I can rely on Hooper finding it, but no-one before Hooper. In particular.
There’s no time to lose. Throwing caution to the wind I make my way quickly to Hut 2, and around the back. I don’t think I’ve been followed, or seen but if I have, it’s too late. My actions are suspicious enough for anyone’s noose. I have no choice but to follow through.
The component is still there, wrapped in a tea-towel and shoved into a cavity in a breeze-block at the base of the Hut wall.
“Look, I know where it is. The missing piece of the Bombe is in the long grasses behind Hooper’s tent. I saw him throw it there right after we finished work. He knew you’d scour the camp but I suppose he thought you’d more obvious places first. I suppose he was right about that. Look there. That proves his guilt.”
“That doesn’t prove anything,” Harris returns sharply. “But we’ll check what you say, all the same.” He gets to his feet and heads out of the door.
Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
The weight of the Bombe component safely in my jacket, I return the short way up the paths between the huts to the barrack block and the broken window.
It’s a little harder getting back through - the window is higher off the ground than the floor inside - but after a decent bit of jumping and hauling I manage to get my elbows up, and then one leg, and finally I collapse inside, quite winded and out breath.
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
I put my ear down to the keyhole, but there’s nothing now. Probably still a guard outside, of course, but they’re keeping mum.
There is nothing to be gained here. I have the component now; maybe it will be of some value tomorrow.
“The component?”
“Yes,” Harris replies levelly. “The component.”
“Well, as soon as it went missing the machine started to malfunction. We recognised the discrepancies in our results straight away...”
“Come now,” Harris says, quite the reasonable gent. “I think you can be a little more forthcoming.”
I slip off my jacket and hold it with one hand over the glass. This should do it. Then I heft my shoe by its toe, and take a strong swing, trying to imagine it’s Harris’ face on the other side.
The sound of the impact is muffled. With my arm still covered, I sweep out the remaining glass in the frame. I’m ready to escape. The only trouble is - when they look in on me in the morning, there will be no question what has happened. It won’t help me one jot with shifting suspicion off my back.
“Then let him think he’s off the hook. Make a show of me. And then you’ll get your man.”
Somehow, I think. But that’s the part I need to work.
Harris gets to his feet. “All right,” he says. “I should no better than to trust a clever man, but we’ll give it a go.” Then, he smiles, with all his teeth, like a wolf. “Especially since this is a plan that involves keeping you in handcuffs. I don’t see what I have to lose.”
He raps on the door for the guard and gives the man a quick instruction. He returns a moment later with a cool pair of iron cuffs.
“Put ‘em up,” Harris instructs, and I do so. The metal closes around my wrists like a trap. I stand and follow Harris willingly out through the door.
But whatever I’m doing with my body, my mind is scheming. Somehow, I’m thinking, I have to get away from these men long enough to get that component behind Hut 2 and put it somewhere Hooper will go. Or, otherwise, somehow get Hooper to go there himself...
Harris marches me over to Hut 3, and gestures for the guard to stand aside. Pushing me forward, he opens the door nice and wide.
“Captain. Manning talked. If you’d step out for a moment?”
In case I’m being followed, I divert around the perimeter of the compound. It’s a much longer path, and it takes me across some terrain that’s difficult to negotiate in the dark - muddy, and thick with thistles and nestles.
Still, I can be confident no-one is following, as I hear nothing. I crouch down behind the rear wall of Hut 2. The component is still there, wrapped in a tea-towel and shoved into a cavity in a breeze-block at the base of the Hut wall.
“No. Not for more than a moment, of course. Everyone here is marked out by how little we would be willing to say about it.”
“Only you told this young man more than a little, didn’t you?”
I nod. “He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
“Very well. I see there’s no point in covering up. You know everything anyway.”
Harris nods, and waits for me to continue.
“There was a young man, Harris. I met him in the town. A few months ago now. We got to talking - not about work, you understand. I said I was an accountant for a firm, just as I was supposed to. Although he seemed to know that wasn’t true. That got me wondering if he wasn’t one of us.”
Harris is not letting me off any more. “You seriously considered that possibility?”
“Only that this process is unreasonable, and I believe you’re behaving like a swine.”
“You imbecile,” Harris replies, with sudden force. He is half out of his chair. “You know the situation as well as I do, so why all this fencing? The Hun are poised like rats, ready to run all over this country. They’ll destroy everything, you do understand that, don’t you? You’re not so locked up inside your crossword puzzles that you don’t see that, are you? And this machine we have here - you men - you are the best and only hope this country has. God help her.”
I sit back, startled by the force of his outburst. His carefully sculpted expression has curled to angry disgust and there is spit flecking his lips. He really does hate me, I think. He’ll have my neck just for the taste of it.
I leave the cup exactly where it is. “Why?” I ask coldly. “What’s in it?”
“Lapsang Souchong,” he remarks, placing his own cup down on the table with a clink. “Such a curious flavour. It might almost not be tea at all. You might say it hides a multitude of sins. As do you, isn’t that correct?”
The bunk has a solid metal frame, a blanket, a pillow, nothing more.
“Very well. I see there’s no point in covering up. You know everything anyway.”
Harris nods, and waits for me to continue.
“There was a young man, Harris. I met him in the town. A few months ago now. We got to talking - not about work, you understand. I said I was an accountant for a firm, just as I was supposed to. Although he seemed to know that wasn’t true. That got me wondering if he wasn’t one of us.”
Harris is not letting me off any more. “You seriously considered that possibility?”
“No. I have no idea.”
He’s talking about the missing reel from the Bombe. Russell discovered it this afternoon when the machine began producing strange results. We were all in the Hut when it happened and it had been in place when we sat down to work. The conclusions had been obvious to all four of us immediately, but had gone undiscussed, even after the empty socket was located, the wiring torn on either side.
“Lucky these things are easy to replace,” Russell had remarked, and that had been that. We had stopped work, sent out for a new part to be machined. And drunk our tea and watched each other.
“Come now,” Harris says, quite the reasonable gent. “As I told you. We’re not interviewing everyone. Only you. So. I think you can be a little more forthcoming.”
“I’ve done nothing that I’m ashamed of.”
“Tell me, then,” he asks. “What’s your theory? You’re a smart fellow - as smart as they come around here, and that’s saying something. What’s your opinion on the missing component? Accident, perhaps? Or do you blame one of the other men? Hooper?”
“It’s not that bad. I can still fix it.”
Harris shakes his head. “This isn’t a problem to be cracked. This isn’t a puzzle. I’m sorry, but this is bigger than you now. Look. You can go to prison for what you’ve done, or we can change your identity and move you somewhere where your... indiscretions... can’t hurt anyone any more. But right now none of that matters. What happens to you, doesn’t matter. All that matters is where that component is. So I’d like you to tell me, now. Where is it?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
“Absolutely.”
Harris opens the door and pushes me inside. “Captain,” he calls. “Could I have a moment?”
The Captain, looking puzzled, steps out. The door is closed. Hooper stares at me, open-mouthed, about to say something. I probably have less than a minute before the Captain storms back in and declares this plan to be bunkum.
“How should I know?” I reply, defensively. “All I can say is, ever since I arrived here, he’s been looking to ways to bring me down a peg. I wouldn’t be surprised if he set this whole affair up just to have me court-martialled.”
“We don’t court-martial civilians,” Harris replies. “Traitors are simply hung at her Majesty’s pleasure.”
“I know where it is.”
Harris smiles with satisfaction, as if your willingness to talk was somehow a result of his clever techniques.
“I see.” There’s a long pause, like the endless delay between feeding in a line of cypher to the Bombe and waiting for its valves and cylinders to heat up enough to being processing. “Would you like to explain?”
“No. I have no idea.”
He’s talking about the missing reel from the Bombe. Russell discovered it this afternoon when the machine began producing strange results. We were all in the Hut when it happened and it had been in place when we sat down to work. The conclusions had been obvious to all four of us immediately, but had gone undiscussed, even after the empty socket was located, the wiring torn on either side.
“Lucky these things are easy to replace,” Russell had remarked, and that had been that. We had stopped work, sent out for a new part to be machined. And drunk our tea and watched each other.
“Come now,” Harris says, quite the reasonable gent. “As I told you. We’re not interviewing everyone. Only you. So. I think you can be a little more forthcoming.”
“That’s not important now. What matters is what you do, this evening. All you have to do is go to the back of Hut 2. There’s a breeze-block with a cavity. That’s where I’ve put it. I’ll be locked up overnight, I should think. But you can pick it up and pass it to my contact. He’ll be at the south fence around two AM.”
“If you think I’ll do that then you’re crazy,” Hooper replies.
At that moment the door flies open and the Captain comes storming back inside.
Harris hustles me over to the barracks. “I hope that’s the end of it,” he mutters as he pushes me up the steps.
“Just be sure to let him out,” I reply. “And then see where he goes.”
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
It depends, perhaps, on what his name his worth. If it were to prove valuable, well; perhaps I can concoct a few more such lovers with which to ease my later days.
Harris put the cuffs around my wrists. “I still have the intercept in my pocket,” I remark. “Wherever we’re going, could I have a pencil?”
He looks me in the eye.
“Certainly. And one of your computing things, if I get my way. And when we’re old, and smoking pipes together in The Rag like heroes, I’ll explain to you the way that decent men have affairs. You scientists.” He drags me up to my feet. “You think you have to re-invent everything.”
With that, he hustles me out of the door and I can’t help thinking that, with a little more strategy, I could still have won the day. But too late now, of course.
“No, Harris. The young man wasn’t blackmailing me.” I take a deep breath. “It was Hooper.”
“Now look here,” Harris interrupts. “Don’t start that again.”
“It’s the truth, Harris. If I’m going to jail, then so be it, but I won’t hang at Traitor’s Gate. Hooper was the one who told the boy about our work. Hooper put the boy on to me. And then, once he had me compromised, he demanded I steal the part from the machine.”
“Which you did.” Harris leans forward. “And then what? You still have it? You put it somewhere?”
No. Why would I? He is no doubt an innocent himself, trapped by some dire circumstance. Forced to act the way he did. I have every sympathy for him.
Of course I do.
Harris put the cuffs around my wrists. “I still have the intercept in my pocket,” I remark. “Wherever we’re going, could I have a pencil?”
He looks me in the eye.
“I’ll give you a stone to chisel notches in the wall. And that’s all the calculations you’ll be doing. And as you sit there, pissing into a bucket and growing a beard down to your toes, you have a think about how a smart man would conduct his illicit affairs. With a bit of due decorum you could have learnt off any squaddie. You scientists.” He drags me up to my feet. “You think you have to re-invent everything.”
With that, he hustles me out of the door and I can’t help thinking that, with a little more strategy, I could still have won the day. But too late now, of course.
“Just adding to the drama,” I tell him, confidently. “I’m sure you can understand that.”
“I think we’ve had enough drama today already,” Harris replies. “Let’s hope for a clean kill.”
He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
“I know nothing about it.” My voice is shaking with anger as I try to speak. I’m not accustomed to facing off against the Commander - against any man with a gun in his holster. “I don’t know what gives you the right to pick on me. I demand a lawyer.”
“This is time of war,” Harris answers. His tone of voice has fallen down into darkness. “And by God, if I have to shoot you to recover the component or stop it falling into the wrong hands, I will, do you understand me?”
There’s an icy silence. I’ve cracked him a little at least. He’s angry. He waves an impetuous hand across the field table.
“Now, drink your tea and talk.”
Let me see. There’s the bunk, nothing else. I have my jacket but nothing in the pockets - no handkerchief, for instance.
I lift the cup and take a sip, staring him hard in the eye as I do so. He watches as I do so.
“Lapsang Souchong,” he remarks, placing his own cup down on the table with a clink. “Such a curious flavour. It might almost not be tea at all. You might say it hides a multitude of sins. As do you, isn’t that correct?”
“The component?”
“Yes,” Harris replies levelly. “The component that went missing this afternoon. I doubt that you’ve forgotten.”
He’s talking about the missing reel from the Bombe. Russell discovered it this afternoon when the machine began producing strange results. We were all in the Hut when it happened and it had been in place when we sat down to work. The conclusions had been obvious to all four of us immediately, but had gone undiscussed, even after the empty socket was located, the wiring torn on either side.
“Lucky these things are easy to replace,” Russell had remarked, and that had been that. We had stopped work, sent out for a new part to be machined. And drunk our tea and watched each other.
“Come now,” Harris says, quite the reasonable gent. “As I told you. We’re not interviewing everyone. Only you. So. I think you can be a little more forthcoming.”
Work carefully? It’s difficult to work carefully when all one’s has is a bucket. It’s rather like the sledgehammer for the proverbial nut.
“Oh, yes?”
“Yes. For what that’s worth. There’s still the issue of the component. It hasn’t turned up. He didn’t lead us to it. I guess he figured you must have had something on him. I don’t know.”
He looks quite put out by the whole affair. He is not the kind of man to deal well with ambiguities and probabilities, far preferred the clarity of fact and falsehood.
I put my ear down to the keyhole, but there’s nothing now. Probably still a guard outside, of course, but they’re keeping mum.
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
“I had to get out, Harris. I had to provoke Hooper into doing something that would incriminate himself fully. He’s too clever, you see...”
“Be quiet, man. We know all about your and your sordid affairs.” The Captain curls his lip. “Don’t you know there’s a war on? Do you know the kind of place they would have sent you if it haven’t had been for that brain of yours? Don’t you think you owe it to your country to use it a little more?”
Do I, I wonder? Do I owe this country anything, this country that has spurned who and what am I since the day I became a man?
It’s no good. That’s only half a solution. I couldn’t be happy with that.
I have no God to make peace with. I find it difficult to believe in goodness of any kind, in a world such as this.
I have no place here. No way to fit. I am the intercept - caught, in the middle, cryptic and understood only thinly, through devices and machines.
“No. I passed it on to Hooper.”
“I see. And what did he do with it?”
I let him have his rant. He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. I can only hope that Hooper bites on my baited hook. If he thinks I’m mad and bitter enough to have framed him somehow, and arrogant enough to have taunted him with a clue to where the damning evidence is hidden... if he hates me enough, and is paranoid enough, then he might unravel my little riddle and go searching around Hut 2.
Thinking back, I should have wrapped the part from the Bombe in one of his shirts before hiding it, that would have been a clever move. I really do make a terrible spy.
“No. I passed it on to Hooper.”
“I see. And what did he do with it?”
“You can’t do this!” I cry. “It’s murder! I demand a trial, a lawyer; for God’s sake, man, you can’t just throw me overboard, we’re not barbarians...!”
“You leave me no choice,” Harris snaps back, eyes cold as gun-metal. “You and your damn cyphers. Your damn clever problems. If men like you didn’t exist, if we could just all be straight with one another.” He gets to his feet and heads for the door. “I fear for the future of this world, with men like you in. Reich or no Reich, Mr Manning, people like you simply complicate matters.”
Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
“Tell Hooper I’ve confessed. In fact, better yet, let him see you march me off in handcuffs. Then let him go, and watch him. Ten to one he’ll go straight to wherever he’s hidden that component and his game will be up.”
Harris nods slowly, chewing over the idea. It isn’t a bad plan even - except, of course, Hooper has not hidden the component, and won’t lead them anywhere. But that’s a problem I might be able to solve once I’m out of this place; and once they’re busy, dogging Hooper’s steps from hut to hut.
“It’s an interesting idea,” the Commander muses. “But I’m not so sure he’ll be that stupid. And if he’s already passed the part on, well, the whole thing will only be a waste of time.”
After a chance like this? A chance - however real - to save my neck? To hand it over - what, to save Hooper’s worthless skin?
I shift in my seat. “Not really. The boy was a simpleton, obviously. My intellectual inferior. His good opinion meant nothing to be. Harris, please do not misunderstand me. I was simply after his body.”
Harris, to his credit, doesn’t flinch. Well, perhaps not: but he’ll have nightmares of this moment tonight. I’m almost tempted to reach out and try to take his hand to worsen it for him, but I hold back.
“Go on with your confession,” he replies. I shrug.
“There’s not much else to say. I took the part from Bombe computing device. You seem to know that already. I had to. He was going to expose me if I didn’t.”
“This young man was blackmailing you over your affair?”
“That’s not important now. What matters is what you do, this evening. All you have to do is go to the back of Hut 2. There’s a breeze-block with a cavity. That’s where I’ve put it. I’ll be locked up overnight, I should think. But you can pick it up and pass it to my contact. He’ll be at the south fence around two AM.”
“If you think I’ll do that then you’re crazy,” Hooper replies.
At that moment the door flies open and the Captain comes storming back inside.
Harris hustles me over to the barracks. “I hope that’s the end of it,” he mutters as he pushes me up the steps.
“Just be sure to let him out,” I reply. “And then see where he goes.”
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
“Yes. I suppose he was their agent. I should have realised but I didn’t. Then he threatened to tell you. I thought you would have me locked up: I couldn’t bear the thought of it. I love working here. I’ve never been so happy, so successful, anywhere before. I didn’t want to lose it.”
“So what did you do with the component?” Harris talks urgently. He grips his gloves tightly in one hand, perhaps prepared to lift them and strike if it is required. “Have you passed it to this man already? Have you left it somewhere for him to find?”
“All right.” I am beaten, after all. “The missing component of the Bombe computer is hidden in a small cavity in a breeze-block supporting the left rear post of Hut 2. I put in there anticipating a search. I intended to dispose of it once the fuss had died down. I suppose I was foolish to think that it might.”
“Indeed you were. And, Mr Manning: God help you if you’re lying to me.”
Harris stands, and slips away smartly. The Commander holds the door for his superior, and follows him out. Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
“I can’t remember.”
He draws his gun and lays it lightly on the field table.
“I’m sorry to threaten you, friend. But His Majesty needs that brain of yours, and that brain alone. There are plenty of other parts to you that our country could do better without. Now I’ll ask you again. Did you hide the component?”
“It’s your problem. Your security breach. So much for your careful vetting process.” I lean back in my chair and fold my arms so the way they shake will not be visible. “You’d better get on with solving it, instead of wasting your time in here with me.”
Harris harrumphs. He’s thinking it all over.
“Ask the others,” I reply, leaning back. “They’ll tell you. If they haven’t already, that’s only because they’re protecting Hooper. Hoping he’ll come to his senses and stop being an idiot. I hope he does too. And if you lock him up in a freezing hut like you’ve done me, I’m sure he will.”
“We have,” Harris replies simply.
It’s all I can do not to gape.
“Hooper’s in Hut 3 with the Captain, having a similar conversation.”
I shrug, eloquently.
“This is all too far-fetched,” Harris says. “I’m glad to have this back, but I need to think.”
Getting to his feet, he nods once. “You’ll have to wait a little longer, I’m afraid, Manning.”
Then he steps out of the door, muttering to himself.
“Yes. Something like that. It’s a very lonely life otherwise. And the work we do - well. It only makes it worse. There’s barely a moment to oneself.”
“That’s how it is in the Service,” Harris answers. “I know you didn’t sign up for it but, well. There’s plenty of other men who didn’t who are serving now, too. Now, go on with your confession.”
That gives me pause, for a moment. I hadn’t thought of it as such. But I suppose that’s what this is. I am about to admit what I did, after all.
“There’s not much else to say. I took the part from Bombe computing device. You seem to know that already. I had to. He was going to expose me if I didn’t.”
“This young man was blackmailing you over your affair?”
I put my ear down to the keyhole, but there’s nothing now. Probably still a guard outside, of course, but they’re keeping mum.
“Then you’d better get searching,” I reply, tiring of his complaining. A war is a war, you have to expect an enemy. “It’s your problem. Your security breach. So much for your careful vetting process.” I lean back in my chair and fold my arms so the way they shake will not be visible. “You’d better get on with solving it, instead of wasting your time in here with me.”
Harris harrumphs. He’s thinking it all over.
“All right. All right. That’s exactly what happened.”
“Shame,” he remarks. “I should have left that window open and put a guard on you. Might have been interesting to see where you went. Anyway, I’m glad you’re still here, even if you do smell like a dog.”
“It’s not that bad. I can still fix it.”
Harris shakes his head. “This isn’t a problem to be cracked. This isn’t a puzzle. I’m sorry, but this is bigger than you now. Look. You can go to prison for what you’ve done, or we can change your identity and move you somewhere where your... indiscretions... can’t hurt anyone any more. But right now none of that matters. What happens to you, doesn’t matter. All that matters is where that component is. So I’d like you to tell me, now. Where is it?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
“You can’t do this!” I cry. “It’s murder! I demand a trial, a lawyer; for God’s sake, man, you can’t just throw me overboard, we’re not barbarians...!”
“You leave me no choice,” Harris snaps back, eyes cold as gun-metal. “You and your damn cyphers. Your damn clever problems. If men like you didn’t exist, if we could just all be straight with one another.” He gets to his feet and heads for the door. “I fear for the future of this world, with men like you in. Reich or no Reich, Mr Manning, people like you simply complicate matters.”
Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
I wait a few minutes, to be sure Hooper and the Captain will have gone, then try the door. It’s locked, all right. I’m not really one for picking locks. Never tried it. I don’t think I’ll be getting out that way.
The bunk has a solid metal frame, a blanket, a pillow, nothing more.
There is nothing I can do to speed up time. The night draws on at its own pace. I suppose by morning I will know my fate.
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
“I’m looking forward to a long bath,” I reply. “And getting back to work.”
“Well, I’m afraid it is going to get worse for you,” Harris replies soberly. “We followed Hooper, and he took himself neatly to bed and slept like a boy scout. Which puts us back to square one, and you firmly in the frame. And I’m afraid I don’t have time for any more games. I want you to tell me where that component is, or we will hang you as a traitor.”
He passes a hand across his eyes with a long look of despair.
“I’m going to go outside and organise a rope. That’ll take about twelve minutes. That’s how long you have to decide.”
The bucket? Hardly. The bucket might do some good if I wanted to sweep up the glass afterwards, but it won’t help me smash the glass quietly.
Plenty of time for that later. If there is nothing there, then Hooper discovered the component after all and Harris’ men will have swooped on him, and the story about his confession is just a ruse to test me out. And if the component is still there - well. It will be just as valuable to my young man in the village in a week’s time, and his deadline of the 31st is not quite upon us.
I head for my dorm, intent on a bath, breakfast, a glance at the crossword before the other men get to it, and then on with work. They should have replaced the component in the Bombe by now. We will be back to it, only a day behind.
And everything will proceed as before. The component will mean nothing to the Germans - this is the one fact I could never have explained to a man like Harris despite the fact that the principle behind the Bombe is the same as the principle behind an army. The individual pieces - the men, the components - do not matter. They are quite identical. It is how they are arranged that counts. The structures and patterns that they form.
I bump into Russell in the dorm hut. “Did you hear?” he whispers. “Terrible news about Hooper. Absolutely terrible.”
Morning comes slowly, but I must fall asleep at some point, because the next thing I know the rooster is calling and a cool, fresh breeze is blowing through the open window. I barely have time to wipe the sleep from my eyes and brush myself down before the door opens and Harris enters.
He takes one look around, and sighs, a deep, wistful sigh.
“Things just get worse and worse for you, Manning,” he remarks. “You are your own worst enemy.”
“I know nothing about it.” My voice is shaking as I try to speak. I’m not accustomed to facing off against the Commander - against any man with a gun in his holster. “I don’t know what gives you the right to pick on me. Shouldn’t I have a lawyer?”
“This is time of war,” Harris answers. His tone of voice has fallen down into darkness. “And by God, if I have to shoot you to recover the component or stop it falling into the wrong hands, I will, do you understand me?”
There’s an icy silence. He’s angry. He waves an impetuous hand across the field table.
“Now, drink your tea and talk.”
“Just adding to the drama,” I tell him, confidently. “I’m sure you can understand that.”
“I think we’ve had enough drama today already,” Harris replies. “Let’s hope for a clean kill.”
He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. I can only hope that Hooper bites on my baited hook. If he thinks I’m mad and bitter enough to have framed him somehow, and arrogant enough to have taunted him with a clue to where the damning evidence is hidden... if he hates me enough, and is paranoid enough, then he might unravel my little riddle and go searching around Hut 2.
Thinking back, I should have wrapped the part from the Bombe in one of his shirts before hiding it, that would have been a clever move. I really do make a terrible spy.
Next. To Hooper’s dorm. Time to wrap up this little game once and for all.
I creep around the outside of the Huts. All are quiet, steel-grey in the hazy moonlight; a few shining copper from arc-lamps strung from the trees. A few guards patrol the area at night but not many - after all, very few know this place even exists.
Our quarters are arranged away from the House; where we sleep is of less importance than where we work. We each have our own Hut, through some are less permanent than other’s. Hooper’s is a military issue tent: quite a large canopy, with two rooms inside and a short porch area where he insists people leave their shoes. It’s all zipped up for the night and no light shines from inside.
I hang back for a moment. If Harris is keeping to the terms of our deal then someone will be watching this place. But I can see no-one.
“I suppose so,” I reply. “I’ve certainly done things I regret. Things I shouldn’t have done.”
“I see,” Harris answers. “You’ve left yourself open. To pressure. Is that what you’re saying?”
“You want me to tell you what happened? You’ll be disgusted, I’m quite sure.”
“I can imagine how it starts,” he growls.
“There was a young man, Harris. I met him in the town. A few months ago now. We got to talking - not about work. I said I was an accountant for a firm, just as I was supposed to. Although he seemed to know that wasn’t true. That got me wondering if he wasn’t one of us.”
Harris is not letting me off any more. “You seriously considered that possibility?”
Enough of this. There isn’t any time to lose. Right now they’ll be following Hooper as he goes to bed, and goes to sleep; and then that’s it. The minute he closes his eyelids and drifts off that’s the moment that this trap swings shut on me.
So I punch out the glass with my fist and it shatters with a terrific noise. Then I stop, and wait, to see if anyone will come in through the door.
Nothing.
“You mean he confessed of his own accord? You didn’t catch him?”
“The Captain went back into that hut and he confessed immediately. We were so surprised we didn’t let you go.” He wrinkles his nose. “I’m rather sorry about that now, but I suppose we’ll let you go know. I suggest you have a wash.”
And with that he gestures to the doorway.
“For God’s sake, man, what do you have to lose?”
“We’ll be outside the door,” Harris replies, seriously. “The first sign of any funny business and we’ll have you both on the floor in minutes. You understand? The country needs your brain, but it’s not too worried about your legs. Remember that.”
Then he gets to his feet, and opens the door, and marches me out and across the yard. The evening is drawing in and there’s a chill in the air. My mind is racing. I have one opportunity here - a moment in which to put the fear of God into Hooper and make him do something foolish to place himself in harm’s way. But how to achieve it?
“You ready?” Harris demands.
“Yes, perhaps. But also to ensure your name goes down in the annals of mathematics. All you have to do is go to the back of Hut 2. There’s a breeze-block with a cavity. That’s where I’ve put it. I’ll be locked up overnight, I should think. But you can pick it up and pass it to my contact. He’ll be at the south fence around two AM.”
“If you think I’ll do that then you’re crazy,” Hooper replies.
At that moment the door flies open and the Captain comes storming back inside.
Harris hustles me over to the barracks. “I hope that’s the end of it,” he mutters as he pushes me up the steps.
“Just be sure to let him out,” I reply. “And then see where he goes.”
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
“I know nothing about it.” My voice is shaking as I try to speak. I’m not accustomed to facing off against the Commander - against any man with a gun in his holster. “I don’t know what gives you the right to pick on me. Shouldn’t I have a lawyer?”
“This is time of war,” Harris answers. His tone of voice has fallen down into darkness. “And by God, if I have to shoot you to recover the component or stop it falling into the wrong hands, I will, do you understand me?”
There’s an icy silence. He’s angry. He waves an impetuous hand across the field table.
“Now, drink your tea and talk.”
If I leave the component here somewhere it should be somewhere I can rely on Hooper finding it, but no-one before Hooper. In particular.
I put my ear down to the keyhole, but there’s nothing now. Probably still a guard outside, of course, but they’re keeping mum.
“How should I know?” I reply, defensively. “All I can say is, ever since I arrived here, he’s been looking to ways to bring me down a peg. I wouldn’t be surprised if he set this whole affair up just to have me court-martialled.”
“We don’t court-martial civilians,” Harris replies. “Traitors are simply hung at her Majesty’s pleasure.”
“Yes.”
Harris stares back at me.
“I see.” There’s a long pause, like the endless delay between feeding in a line of cypher to the Bombe and waiting for its valves and cylinders to heat up enough to being processing. “Would you like to explain?”
“I’ve done nothing that I’m ashamed of.”
“Tell me, then,” he asks. “What’s your theory? You’re a smart fellow - as smart as they come around here, and that’s saying something. What’s your opinion on the missing component? Accident, perhaps? Or do you blame one of the other men?”
“No. Not for more than a moment, of course. Everyone here is marked out by how little we would be willing to say about it.”
“Only you told this young man more than a little, didn’t you?”
I nod. “He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
“I always meant to tell you,” I tell him. “I thought perhaps I could find out who they were. Lead you to them.”
Harris looks at me with contempt. “You wretched little man. Don’t think your tongue will be able to get you out of trouble. You’re going to pay for what you’ve done, and you’re going to pay dearly. If a single man loses his life because of your pride and your perversions then God help your eternal soul. The fact is you committed a crime.” If I had any sense that he understood my predicament, and that he felt for my state of being, it collapses like a chain with a broken link. “You thought you could repair it with another, more serious crime?” He shakes his head. “I thought you men were supposed to be clever. But this is the action of a frightened woman. So I’d like you to tell me, now. Where is it?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
“Absolutely.”
Harris opens the door and pushes me inside. “Captain,” he calls. “Could I have a moment?”
The Captain, looking puzzled, steps out. The door is closed. Hooper stares at me, open-mouthed, about to say something. I probably have less than a minute before the Captain storms back in and declares this plan to be bunkum.
“It’s your problem. Your security breach. So much for your careful vetting process.” I lean back in my chair and fold my arms so the way they shake will not be visible. “You’d better get on with solving it, instead of wasting your time in here with me.”
Harris harrumphs. He’s thinking it all over.
“I’m not saying anything of the sort,” I snap back. “What is this, Harris? You’re accusing me of treachery but I don’t see a shred of evidence for it! Why don’t you put your cards on the table?”
“It’s simple enough,” Harris replies. “I’ve seen the same story a hundred times before,” he says. “A young man like yourself - clever, somewhat removed from the world. The kind that doesn’t go to parties, you might say. Who takes himself a little too seriously, perhaps. Takes things too far. Further than a man should allow a thing to go. That’s the story, isn’t it? You took things too far, and then you couldn’t take them back. And now they have you.”
“Perhaps Hooper had an accomplice. Someone else who works on site.”
Harris shakes his head, distractedly. “That doesn’t make sense,” he says. “Why go to all the trouble of stealing it only to give it back? And why like this?”
Well, then. To Hooper’s dorm. Time to wrap up this little game once and for all.
I creep around the outside of the Huts. All are quiet, steel-grey in the hazy moonlight; a few shining copper from arc-lamps strung from the trees. A few guards patrol the area at night but not many - after all, very few know this place even exists.
Our quarters are arranged away from the House; where we sleep is of less importance than where we work. We each have our own Hut, through some are less permanent than other’s. Hooper’s is a military issue tent: quite a large canopy, with two rooms inside and a short porch area where he insists people leave their shoes. It’s all zipped up for the night and no light shines from inside.
I hang back for a moment. If Harris is keeping to the terms of our deal then someone will be watching this place. But I can see no-one.
“Yes, I considered it. He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
I put my ear down to the keyhole, but there’s nothing now. Probably still a guard outside, of course, but they’re keeping mum.
That is Harris returning. Our little computation here is complete.
That is the true secret of the calculating engine, and the source of its power: not in the components themselves, but in how they are wired together. The diversity of patterns and structures they can form. Much like people - it is how they connect that determines our victories and tragedies, and not their genius.
Which makes me wonder. Should I give the young man who put me in this spot to them as well as myself?
“I don’t know.”
“You can do better than that. Remember, there’s a hangman’s noose waiting for traitors.”
The blanket. Perfect. I scoop it up off the bed and hold it in place over the window. This should do it. Then I heft back my arm, and take a strong swing, trying to imagine it’s Harris’ face on the other side.
The sound of the impact is muffled. With my arm still covered, I sweep out the remaining glass in the frame. I’m ready to escape. The only trouble is - when they look in on me in the morning, there will be no question what has happened. It won’t help me one jot with shifting suspicion off my back.
Next. To Hooper’s dorm. Time to wrap up this little game once and for all.
I creep around the outside of the Huts. All are quiet, steel-grey in the hazy moonlight; a few shining copper from arc-lamps strung from the trees. A few guards patrol the area at night but not many - after all, very few know this place even exists.
Our quarters are arranged away from the House; where we sleep is of less importance than where we work. We each have our own Hut, through some are less permanent than other’s. Hooper’s is a military issue tent: quite a large canopy, with two rooms inside and a short porch area where he insists people leave their shoes. It’s all zipped up for the night and no light shines from inside.
I hang back for a moment. If Harris is keeping to the terms of our deal then someone will be watching this place. But I can see no-one.
“Yes.”
Harris stares back at me. He cannot have expected it to be so easy to break me.
“I see.” There’s a long pause, like the endless delay between feeding in a line of cypher to the Bombe and waiting for its valves and cylinders to heat up enough to being processing. “Would you like to explain?”
“Trust me. He hasn’t. If I know that man, and I do, he’ll have wanted to keep his options open as long as possible. If the component’s gone then he’s committed and he’ll be hung for what he’s done. He’ll want to wait a week at least, make sure he’s escaped suspicion. And then he’ll pass it on.”
“And if we keep applying pressure to him, you think the component will eventually just turn up?”
“The component?”
“Yes,” Harris replies levelly. “The component that went missing this afternoon. I doubt that you’ve forgotten.”
He’s talking about the missing reel from the Bombe. Russell discovered it this afternoon when the machine began producing strange results. We were all in the Hut when it happened and it had been in place when we sat down to work. The conclusions had been obvious to all four of us immediately, but had gone undiscussed, even after the empty socket was located, the wiring torn on either side.
“Lucky these things are easy to replace,” Russell had remarked, and that had been that. We had stopped work, sent out for a new part to be machined. And drunk our tea and watched each other.
“Come now,” Harris says, quite the reasonable gent. “As I told you. We’re not interviewing everyone. Only you. So. I think you can be a little more forthcoming.”
I leave the cup exactly where it is. “Why?” I ask coldly. “What’s in it?”
“Lapsang Souchong,” he remarks, placing his own cup down on the table with a clink. “Such a curious flavour. It might almost not be tea at all. You might say it hides a multitude of sins. As do you, isn’t that correct?”
“We’ll fool him. He’s waiting to be sure that I’ve been strung up for this, so let’s give him what he wants. If he sees me taken away, clapped in irons - he’ll go straight to that component and set about getting rid of it.”
Harris gets to his feet. “All right,” he says. “I should no better than to trust a clever man, but we’ll give it a go.” Then, he smiles, with all his teeth, like a wolf. “Hooper’s in Hut 3 being debriefed by the Captain. Let’s see if we can’t get his attention somehow.”
He raps on the door for the guard and gives the man a quick instruction. He returns a moment later with a cool pair of iron cuffs.
“Put ‘em up,” Harris instructs, and I do so. The metal closes around my wrists like a trap. I stand and follow Harris willingly out through the door.
But whatever I’m doing with my body, my mind is scheming. Somehow, I’m thinking, I have to get away from these men long enough to get that component behind Hut 2 and put it somewhere Hooper will go. Or, otherwise, somehow get Hooper to go there himself...
Harris marches me over to Hut 3, and gestures for the guard to stand aside. Pushing me forward, he opens the door nice and wide.
“Captain. Manning talked. If you’d step out for a moment?”
No time to waste. I drop to my knees and check the breeze-block. Sure enough, there’s nothing there. Hooper took the bait.
Suddenly, there’s a movement behind me. I look up to see, first a snub pistol, and then, Harris.
“Hooper said you’d told him where to look. I didn’t believe him. Or, well. I wasn’t sure what to believe. Now I rather think you’ve settled it.”
Let me see. There’s the bunk, nothing else. I have my jacket but nothing in the pockets - no handkerchief, for instance.
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
I slip off my jacket and hold it with one hand over the glass. This should do it. Then I heft my shoe by its toe, and take a strong swing, trying to imagine it’s Harris’ face on the other side.
The sound of the impact is muffled. With my arm still covered, I sweep out the remaining glass in the frame. I’m ready to escape. The only trouble is - when they look in on me in the morning, there will be no question what has happened. It won’t help me one jot with shifting suspicion off my back.
“I’ll talk to him.”
“What?”
“Put me in with Hooper. Maybe I can get something useful out of him. As his colleague.”
Harris shakes his head. “He despises you, doesn’t he? I don’t see why he’d give himself up to you.”
Then pause. This is too transparent. Too blatant. If I leave it here, like this, Hooper will never be seen to go looking for it: he will stumble over it in plain sight, and the men watching will wonder why it was not there when he went to bed.
No, I must try something else - or nothing at all.
The bunk has a solid metal frame, a blanket, a pillow, nothing more.
I toss the component away into the bushes behind Hooper’s tent and return to my barrack, wishing myself a long sleep followed by a morning, free of this business.
Satisfied, I return the short way up the paths between the huts to the barrack block and the broken window.
It’s a little harder getting back through - the window is higher off the ground than the floor inside - but after a decent bit of jumping and hauling I manage to get my elbows up, and then one leg, and finally I collapse inside, quite winded and out breath.
I look in through the door and catch Hooper’s expression. I had half expected him to be smiling be he isn’t. He looks shocked, almost hurt. “Iain,” he murmurs. “You couldn’t...”
The Captain comes outside, pulling the door to. “What’s this?” he asks. “A confession? Just like that?”
“No,” the Commander admits, in a low voice. “I’m afraid not. Rather more a scheme. The idea is to let Hooper go and see what he does. If he believes we have Manning here in irons, he’ll try to shift the component.”
“If he has it.”
“Indeed.”
The Captain peers at me for a moment, like I was some kind of curious insect.
“Sometimes, I think you people are magicians,” he remarks. “Other times you seem more like witches. Very well.”
With that he opens the door to the Hut and goes back inside. The Commander uses the moment to hustle me roughly forward.
“This scheme of yours had better come off,” he hisses in my ear. “Otherwise the Captain is going to start having men tailing me to see where I go on Saturdays.”
“That’s not important now. What matters is what you do, this evening. All you have to do is go to the back of Hut 2. There’s a breeze-block with a cavity. That’s where I’ve put it. I’ll be locked up overnight, I should think. But you can pick it up and pass it to my contact. He’ll be at the south fence around two AM.”
“If you think I’ll do that then you’re crazy,” Hooper replies.
At that moment the door flies open and the Captain comes storming back inside.
Harris hustles me over to the barracks. “I hope that’s the end of it,” he mutters as he pushes me up the steps.
“Just be sure to let him out,” I reply. “And then see where he goes.”
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
Let me see. There’s the bunk, a bucket, nothing else. I have my jacket but nothing in the pockets - no handkerchief, for instance.
“No, I don’t. I’ve got work I should be doing tomorrow, and I need my rest...”
“Work that will be difficult for you to do, don’t you think?” Harris replies.
“They’ll have made a replacement by tomorrow,” I reply. “The war doesn’t stop over one missing reel.”
The reel went missing from the Bombe this afternoon. The four of us were in the Hut at the time, working on the latest intercept. It was Russell who noticed the machine producing strange results and found the gap in its plugboard. But as to who took it - it could have been any of us.
And indeed, it must have been. The machine had been functioning as normal when we began our calculations. And then, a short few hours later, it was gone. We had to stop. There was nothing more we could do until it was replaced. The part was vital, just as the machine was vital, and so were the contents of the message, still unread twenty four hours later.
“Let’s get straight to the point. Do you have the component?” Harris demands. “Do you know where it is?”
“I don’t know what gives you the right to pick on me. I demand a lawyer.”
“This is time of war,” Harris answers. His tone of voice has fallen down into darkness. “And by God, if I have to shoot you to recover the component or stop it falling into the wrong hands, I will, do you understand me?”
There’s an icy silence. He’s angry at my slippery answers. He waves an impetuous hand across the field table.
“Now, drink your tea and talk.”
I go over to the window and try to jimmy it open. Not much luck, but in my struggling I notice this window only backs on the thin little brook that runs down the back of the compound. Which means, if I smashed it, I might get away with no-one seeing.
There is nothing to be gained here. I have the component now; maybe it will be of some value tomorrow.
“I’m not trying to do anything except save my neck.”
“Let’s hope things work out,” Harris agrees darkly.
He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. I can only hope that Hooper bites on my baited hook. If he thinks I’m mad and bitter enough to have framed him somehow, and arrogant enough to have taunted him with a clue to where the damning evidence is hidden... if he hates me enough, and is paranoid enough, then he might unravel my little riddle and go searching around Hut 2.
Thinking back, I should have wrapped the part from the Bombe in one of his shirts before hiding it, that would have been a clever move. I really do make a terrible spy.
There is nothing to be gained here. I have the component now; maybe it will be of some value tomorrow.
The bunk has a solid metal frame, a blanket, a pillow, nothing more.
I pat down my pockets but all I’m carrying is the intercept, which is no good at all.
“You’re right.” I shake my head. “You’re right. I don’t see how I can help you after all. So, there’s only one conclusion.”
“Oh, yes? And what’s that?”
“It’s your problem. Your security breach. So much for your careful vetting process.” I lean back in my chair and fold my arms so the way they shake will not be visible. “You’d better get on with solving it, instead of wasting your time in here with me.”
Harris harrumphs. He’s thinking it all over.
I peer out of the window, but it looks out onto the little brook at the back of the compound, with no view of the other huts or the House. Who knows if there are men up, searching the base of Hut 2, following one another with flashlights...
Perhaps Hooper is there, in the dark, trying to help me after all?
The night draws on at its own pace. I suppose by morning I will know my fate.
“Just adding to the drama,” I tell him, confidently. “I’m sure you can understand that.”
“I think we’ve had enough drama today already,” Harris replies. “Let’s hope for a clean kill.”
He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. I can only hope that Hooper bites on my baited hook. If he thinks I’m mad and bitter enough to have framed him somehow, and arrogant enough to have taunted him with a clue to where the damning evidence is hidden... if he hates me enough, and is paranoid enough, then he might unravel my little riddle and go searching around Hut 2.
Thinking back, I should have wrapped the part from the Bombe in one of his shirts before hiding it, that would have been a clever move. I really do make a terrible spy.
“It will. Hooper’s running scared,” I reply, hoping I sound more confident than I feel.
“I think we’ve had enough drama today already,” Harris replies. “Let’s hope for a clean kill.”
He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
“It’s not that bad. I can still fix it.”
Harris shakes his head. “This isn’t a problem to be cracked. This isn’t a puzzle. I’m sorry, but this is bigger than you now. Look. You can go to prison for what you’ve done, or we can change your identity and move you somewhere where your... indiscretions... can’t hurt anyone any more. But right now none of that matters. What happens to you, doesn’t matter. All that matters is where that component is. So I’d like you to tell me, now. Where is it?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
After a chance like this? A chance - however real - to save my neck? To hand it over - what, to save Hooper’s worthless skin?
The blanket. Perfect. I scoop it up off the bed and hold it in place over the window. This should do it. Then I heft the bucket - this really is quite a fiddly thing to be doing, and I need far longer arms, especially in cuffs - and take a strong swing, trying to imagine it’s Harris’ face on the other side.
The sound of the impact is muffled. With my arm still covered, I sweep out the remaining glass in the frame. I’m ready to escape. The only trouble is - when they look in on me in the morning, there will be no question what has happened. It won’t help me one jot with shifting suspicion off my back.
I go over to the window and try to jimmy it open. Not much luck, but in my struggling I notice this window only backs on the thin little brook that runs down the back of the compound. Which means, if I smashed it, I might get away with no-one seeing.
I wait a few minutes, to be sure the Commander will have gone, then try the door. It’s locked, all right. I’m not really one for picking locks. Never tried it. I don’t think I’ll be getting out that way.
From outside, I hear a voice. Hooper’s. He’s haranguing someone, for something.
There is nothing I can do to speed up time. The night draws on at its own pace. I suppose by morning I will know my fate.
I let him have his rant. He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. I can only hope that Hooper bites on my baited hook. If he thinks I’m mad and bitter enough to have framed him somehow, and arrogant enough to have taunted him with a clue to where the damning evidence is hidden... if he hates me enough, and is paranoid enough, then he might unravel my little riddle and go searching around Hut 2.
Thinking back, I should have wrapped the part from the Bombe in one of his shirts before hiding it, that would have been a clever move. I really do make a terrible spy.
Let me see. There’s the bunk, nothing else. I have my jacket but nothing in the pockets - no handkerchief, for instance.
I suppose I do not believe they will hang me. They will lock me up and continue to use my brain, if they can. I wonder what they will tell the world - perhaps that I have taken my own life. That would be simplest. The few who know me would believe it.
Well, then. Not a bad existence, in prison. Removed from temptation. A kind of imposed monasticism, with plenty more problems to solve, and more mysteries to fathom.
I wonder what else I might yet unravel before I’m done?
I peer out of the window, but it looks out onto the little brook at the back of the compound, with no view of the other huts or the House. Who knows if there are men up, searching the base of Hut 2, following one another with flashlights...
Perhaps Hooper is there, in the dark, trying to help me after all?
The night draws on at its own pace. I suppose by morning I will know my fate.
From where he’s sitting, I know Hooper can see me, so I keep my head down and look guilty as sin. The bastard is probably smiling.
The Captain comes outside, pulling the door to. “What’s this?” he asks. “A confession? Just like that?”
“No,” the Commander admits, in a low voice. “I’m afraid not. Rather more a scheme. The idea is to let Hooper go and see what he does. If he believes we have Manning here in irons, he’ll try to shift the component.”
“If he has it.”
“Indeed.”
The Captain peers at me for a moment, like I was some kind of curious insect.
“Sometimes, I think you people are magicians,” he remarks. “Other times you seem more like witches. Very well.”
With that he opens the door to the Hut and goes back inside. The Commander uses the moment to hustle me roughly forward.
“This scheme of yours had better come off,” he hisses in my ear. “Otherwise the Captain is going to start having men tailing me to see where I go on Saturdays.”
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
“No. I have no idea.”
He’s talking about the missing reel from the Bombe. Russell discovered it this afternoon when the machine began producing strange results. We were all in the Hut when it happened and it had been in place when we sat down to work. The conclusions had been obvious to all four of us immediately, but had gone undiscussed, even after the empty socket was located, the wiring torn on either side.
“Lucky these things are easy to replace,” Russell had remarked, and that had been that. We had stopped work, sent out for a new part to be machined. And drunk our tea and watched each other.
“Come now,” Harris says, quite the reasonable gent. “As I told you. We’re not interviewing everyone. Only you. So. I think you can be a little more forthcoming.”
That is Harris returning. Our little computation here is complete. I only hope one of the others will be able to explain to him that the part I stole will mean nothing to the Germans.
That is the true secret of the calculating engine, and the source of its power: not in the components themselves, but in how they are wired together. The diversity of patterns and structures they can form. Much like people - it is how they connect that determines our victories and tragedies, and not their genius.
Which makes me wonder. Should I give up my beautiful young man to them as well as myself?
“Well, I’m glad his conscience finally caught up with him,” I reply dismissively.
“The Captain went back into that hut and he confessed immediately. We were so surprised we didn’t let you go.” He wrinkles his nose. “I’m rather sorry about that now, but I suppose we’ll let you go know. I suggest you have a wash.”
And with that he gestures to the doorway.
“Yes, I considered it. He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
“He has? I knew he would. The worm.”
“Steady now. Matters aren’t over yet. There’s still the issue of the component. It hasn’t turned up. He didn’t lead us to it. I guess he figured you must have had something on him. I don’t know.”
He looks quite put out by the whole affair. He is not the kind of man to deal well with ambiguities and probabilities, far preferred the clarity of fact and falsehood.
“I was quite certain, after a while. After we’d been talking. He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
So perhaps I should wait it out, after all. Who knows? I might have a better opportunity later.
The rest of the night passes slowly. I sleep a little, dozing mostly. Then I’m woken by the rooster in the yard. The door opens, and Harris comes in. He takes one look at the broken window and frowns with puzzlement.
“What happened there?”
“The Captain thought it was a good scheme. You’ll most likely get a promotion.”
“Let’s hope things work out,” Harris agrees darkly.
He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
“I am what I am,” I reply. “I’m the way nature made me. But they’re going to hang me unless you help me, Hooper. Don’t let them hang me.”
“Assuming I wanted to help you,” he replies, carefully. “Which I don’t. What would I do?”
“Nothing. Almost nothing.
All you have to do is go to the back of Hut 2. There’s a breeze-block with a cavity. That’s where I’ve put it. I’ll be locked up overnight, I should think. But you can pick it up and pass it to my contact. He’ll be at the south fence around two AM."
“If you think I’ll do that then you’re crazy,” Hooper replies.
At that moment the door flies open and the Captain comes storming back inside.
Harris hustles me over to the barracks. “I hope that’s the end of it,” he mutters as he pushes me up the steps.
“Just be sure to let him out,” I reply. “And then see where he goes.”
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
“No. I have no idea.”
He’s talking about the missing reel from the Bombe. Russell discovered it this afternoon when the machine began producing strange results. We were all in the Hut when it happened and it had been in place when we sat down to work. The conclusions had been obvious to all four of us immediately, but had gone undiscussed, even after the empty socket was located, the wiring torn on either side.
“Lucky these things are easy to replace,” Russell had remarked, and that had been that. We had stopped work, sent out for a new part to be machined. And drunk our tea and watched each other.
“Come now,” Harris says, quite the reasonable gent. “As I told you. We’re not interviewing everyone. Only you. So. I think you can be a little more forthcoming.”
“I don’t know what I’m suggesting. I don’t understand what’s going on.”
“But of course you do.” Harris narrows his eyes. “Let’s get straight to the point. Do you have the component?” Harris demands. “Do you know where it is?”
The rest of the night passes slowly. I sleep a little, dozing mostly. Then I’m woken by the rooster in the yard. The door opens, and Harris comes in. He takes one look at the broken window and frowns with puzzlement.
“What happened there?”
“I can’t remember.”
He draws his gun and lays it lightly on the field table.
“I’m sorry to threaten you, friend. But His Majesty needs that brain of yours, and that brain alone. There are plenty of other parts to you that our country could do better without. Now I’ll ask you again. Did you hide the component?”
I have a single moment to shout something to Hooper before the door closes.
“I’ll get you Hooper, you’ll see!” I cry. Then:
I lift the cup and take a sip, trying to act natural. He watches as I do so.
“Lapsang Souchong,” he remarks, placing his own cup down on the table with a clink. “Such a curious flavour. It might almost not be tea at all. You might say it hides a multitude of sins. As do you, isn’t that correct?”
“So would you after the night I’ve had.”
“Well, I’m afraid it is going to get worse for you,” Harris replies soberly. “We followed Hooper, and he took himself neatly to bed and slept like a boy scout. Which puts us back to square one, and you firmly in the frame. And I’m afraid I don’t have time for any more games. I want you to tell me where that component is, or we will hang you as a traitor.”
He passes a hand across his eyes with a long look of despair.
“I’m going to go outside and organise a rope. That’ll take about twelve minutes. That’s how long you have to decide.”
“I suppose so,” I reply. “I’ve certainly done things I regret. Things I shouldn’t have done.”
“I see,” Harris answers. “You’ve left yourself open. To pressure. Is that what you’re saying?”
“No. I passed it on to Hooper.”
“I see. And what did he do with it?”
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
Next. To Hooper’s dorm. Time to wrap up this little game once and for all.
I creep around the outside of the Huts. All are quiet, steel-grey in the hazy moonlight; a few shining copper from arc-lamps strung from the trees. A few guards patrol the area at night but not many - after all, very few know this place even exists.
Our quarters are arranged away from the House; where we sleep is of less importance than where we work. We each have our own Hut, through some are less permanent than other’s. Hooper’s is a military issue tent: quite a large canopy, with two rooms inside and a short porch area where he insists people leave their shoes. It’s all zipped up for the night and no light shines from inside.
I hang back for a moment. If Harris is keeping to the terms of our deal then someone will be watching this place. But I can see no-one.
I say quiet, listening, not sure how this will go.
“In case I’m not making myself clear,” Harris continues, “I mean, he managed to find it, by accident, somewhere where it wasn’t the night before. And at the same time, you’re sitting here with your window broken. So, I rather think you’ve played your last hand and lost. There’s no way Hooper stole that component and then just left it lying around in the doorway of his tent. No way at all. So I came to tell you that the game is up for you.”
He nods and gets to his feet. Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
I leave the cup exactly where it is. “Why?” I ask coldly. “What’s in it?”
“Lapsang Souchong,” he remarks, placing his own cup down on the table with a clink. “Such a curious flavour. It might almost not be tea at all. You might say it hides a multitude of sins. As do you, isn’t that correct?”
The bucket? Hardly. The bucket might do some good if I wanted to sweep up the glass afterwards, but it won’t help me smash the glass quietly.
“I don’t think Hooper could have planned this in advance. So he’d need to get word to whoever he’s working with, and that would take time. So I think he would have hidden it somewhere, and be waiting to make sure I soundly take the fall. That way, if anything goes wrong, he can arrange for the part to be conveniently re-found.”
“Makes sense,” Harris agrees, cautiously. I can see he’s still not entirely convinced by my tale, as well he might not be - I’ve hardly been entirely straight with him. “Which means the question is, what can we do to rat him out?”
“If I wanted to escape, I would have made damn sure that I could,” I tell him sternly.
“Well, I’m afraid it is going to get worse for you,” Harris replies soberly. “We followed Hooper, and he took himself neatly to bed and slept like a boy scout. Which puts us back to square one, and you firmly in the frame. And I’m afraid I don’t have time for any more games. I want you to tell me where that component is, or we will hang you as a traitor.”
He passes a hand across his eyes with a long look of despair.
“I’m going to go outside and organise a rope. That’ll take about twelve minutes. That’s how long you have to decide.”
“No, Harris. The young man wasn’t blackmailing me.” I take a deep breath. “It was Hooper.”
“Hooper!” Harris exclaims, in surprise.
“It’s the truth, Harris. If I’m going to jail, then so be it, but I won’t hang at Traitor’s Gate. Hooper was the one who told the boy about our work. Hooper put the boy on to me. And then, once he had me compromised, he demanded I steal the part from the machine.”
“Which you did.” Harris leans forward. “And then what? You still have it? You put it somewhere?”
“No,” Harris declares, finally. “I think you’re lying about Hooper. I think you’re a clever, scheming young man - that’s why we hired you - and you’re looking for the only reasonable out this situation has to offer. But I’m not taking it. We know you were in the room with the machine, we know you’re of a perverted persuasion, we know you have compromised yourself. There’s nothing more to say here. Either you tell me what you’ve done with that component, or we will hang you and search just as hard. It’s your choice.”
He gets to his feet, and gathers his gloves from the table top.
“I’m going to go outside and organise a rope. That’ll take about twelve minutes. That’s how long you have to decide.”
I suppose my fist would do a good enough job. But I’d cut myself to ribbons, most likely. And the noise would be terrible. There must be a way of making this easier. I’m supposed to be a thief now. What would a burglar do?
“Now steady on,” I reply, gesturing for him to calm himself.
“Talk,” Harris demands. “Talk, now. Tell me where you’ve hidden it or who you’ve passed it to. Or God help me, but I’ll take your wretched pansy body to pieces looking for it, do you understand me?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
“I certainly don’t. But still, I’m surprised. I had Hooper down for a full-blown double agent, a traitor. He knows he’ll face the rope, doesn’t he?”
“Don’t ask me to explain why he did what he did,” Harris sighs. “Just be grateful that he did, and you’re now off the hook.”
Curiouser and curiouser. I nod once to Harris and slip outside into the cold morning air.
Hooper’s confession only makes sense in one fashion, and that is his being dim-witted and slow. Or perhaps he knew he would be followed if he went to check, and decided he would be doomed either way.
Of course, however, there is only one way to be certain that Harris is telling the truth, and that is to find a quiet moment and check the breeze-block at the back of Hut 2.
No, I am content. I suppose I do not believe they will hang me. They will lock me up and continue to use my brain, if they can. I wonder what they will tell the world - perhaps that I have taken my own life. That would be simplest. The few who know me would believe it.
Well, then. Not a bad existence, in prison. Removed from temptation. A kind of imposed monasticism, with plenty more problems to solve, and more mysteries to fathom.
I wonder what else I might yet unravel before I’m done?
“I certainly don’t. But still, I’m surprised. I had Hooper down for a full-blown double agent, a traitor. He knows he’ll face the rope, doesn’t he?”
“Don’t ask me to explain why he did what he did,” Harris sighs. “Just be grateful that he did, and you’re now off the hook.”
Curiouser and curiouser. I nod once to Harris and slip outside into the cold morning air.
Hooper’s confession only makes sense in one fashion, and that is his being dim-witted and slow. Or perhaps he knew he would be followed if he went to check, and decided he would be doomed either way.
Of course, however, there is only one way to be certain that Harris is telling the truth, and that is to find a quiet moment and check the breeze-block at the back of Hut 2.
“Hooper, I’ll make a deal with you. We both know what happened in that hut this afternoon. I know because I did it, and you know because you know you didn’t. But once this is done I’ll be rich, and I’ll split that with you. I’ll let you have the results, too. Your name on the discovery of the Bombe. And it won’t hurt the war effort - you know as well as me that the component on its own is worthless, it’s the wiring of the Bombe, the usage, that’s what’s valuable. So how about it?”
Hooper looks back at me, appalled. “You’re asking me to commit treason?”
I slip off my jacket and hold it with one hand over the glass. This should do it. Then I heft back my arm, and take a strong swing, trying to imagine it’s Harris’ face on the other side.
The sound of the impact is muffled. With my arm still covered, I sweep out the remaining glass in the frame. I’m ready to escape. The only trouble is - when they look in on me in the morning, there will be no question what has happened. It won’t help me one jot with shifting suspicion off my back.
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
“I was quite certain, after a while. After we’d been talking. He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
I shrug, eloquently.
“This is all too far-fetched,” Harris says. “I’m glad to have this back, but I need to think.”
Getting to his feet, he nods once. “You’ll have to wait a little longer, I’m afraid, Manning.”
Then he steps out of the door, muttering to himself.
I pause a moment, trying to choose my words. To just come out and say it, after a lifetime of hiding... I wouldn’t know how. To put it into words, bluntly and directly: that is a circle I cannot square.
“I’ve done things,” I begin, uncomfortably. “I didn’t want to. I tried not to. But in the end, you understand. I had to. It felt like cutting off my own arm not to. Things I know I shouldn’t have. Things I perhaps regret.”
“I see,” Harris answers. “You’ve left yourself open. To pressure. Is that what you’re saying?”
“You want me to tell you what happened? You’ll be disgusted, I’m quite sure.”
“I can imagine how it starts,” he growls.
“There was a young man, Harris. I met him in the town. A few months ago now. We got to talking - not about work. I said I was an accountant for a firm, just as I was supposed to. Although he seemed to know that wasn’t true. That got me wondering if he wasn’t one of us.”
Harris is not letting me off any more. “You seriously considered that possibility?”
I have no God to make peace with. I find it difficult to believe in goodness of any kind, in a world such as this.
But I am no traitor. At least, not to my country. To my sex, perhaps. But how could I support the Reich? If it were to come to power, I would be worse off than under the already dire circumstances of my existence.
I have no place here. No way to fit. I am the intercept - caught, in the middle, cryptic and understood only thinly, through devices and machines.
“Oh, yes?”
“Yes. For what that’s worth. There’s still the issue of the component. It hasn’t turned up. He didn’t lead us to it. I guess he figured you must have had something on him. I don’t know.”
He looks quite put out by the whole affair. He is not the kind of man to deal well with ambiguities and probabilities, far preferred the clarity of fact and falsehood.
“I broke it,” I reply. There doesn’t seem any use in trying to lie. “I thought I could escape. But I couldn’t get myself through.”
The Commander laughs. “Shame,” he remarks. “I should have left that window open and put a guard on you. Might have been interesting to see where you went. Anyway, I’m glad you’re still here, even if you do smell like a dog.”
“Or be thrown into the river.”
“Hmm.” Harris chews his moustache thoughtfully. “Well, that would put us in a spot, seeing as how we’d never know for certain. We’d have to be ready to change our whole approach just in case the part had got through to the Germans. I don’t mind telling you, this is a disaster, this whole thing. What I want is to find that little bit of mechanical trickery anywhere. I don’t care where. In your luncheon box or under Hooper’s pillow, whatever. Just somewhere, and within the grounds of this place.”
I wait a few minutes, to be sure Hooper and the Captain will have gone, then try the door. It’s locked, all right. I’m not really one for picking locks. Never tried it. I don’t think I’ll be getting out that way.
“The component?”
“Yes,” Harris replies levelly. “The component that went missing this afternoon. I doubt that you’ve forgotten.”
He’s talking about the missing reel from the Bombe. Russell discovered it this afternoon when the machine began producing strange results. We were all in the Hut when it happened and it had been in place when we sat down to work. The conclusions had been obvious to all four of us immediately, but had gone undiscussed, even after the empty socket was located, the wiring torn on either side.
“Lucky these things are easy to replace,” Russell had remarked, and that had been that. We had stopped work, sent out for a new part to be machined. And drunk our tea and watched each other.
“Come now,” Harris says, quite the reasonable gent. “As I told you. We’re not interviewing everyone. Only you. So. I think you can be a little more forthcoming.”
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
I say quiet, listening, not sure how this will go.
“In case I’m not making myself clear,” Harris continues, “I mean, he managed to find it, by accident, somewhere where it wasn’t the night before. And at the same time, you’re sitting here with your window broken. So, I rather think you’ve played your last hand and lost. There’s no way Hooper stole that component and then just left it lying around in the doorway of his tent. No way at all. So I came to tell you that the game is up for you.”
He nods and gets to his feet. Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
“No. I passed it on to Hooper.”
“I see. And what did he do with it?”
Ah, but of course! I slip off one shoe and heft it by the toe. The heel will make a decent enough hammer, if I give it enough wallop.
But I’ll cut my hand to ribbons doing it. And the noise would be terrible. There must be a way of making this easier. I’m supposed to be a thief now. What would a burglar do?
Satisfied, I return the short way up the paths between the huts to the barrack block and the broken window.
It’s a little harder getting back through - the window is higher off the ground than the floor inside - but after a decent bit of jumping and hauling I manage to get my elbows up, and then one leg, and finally I collapse inside, quite winded and out breath.
Making a wide circuit I creep around the tent. It has plenty of other flaps and openings, tied down with Gordian complexity. But nothing afford itself to slipping the component inside.
Well, then. To Hooper’s dorm. Time to wrap up this little game once and for all.
I creep around the outside of the Huts. All are quiet, steel-grey in the hazy moonlight; a few shining copper from arc-lamps strung from the trees. A few guards patrol the area at night but not many - after all, very few know this place even exists.
Our quarters are arranged away from the House; where we sleep is of less importance than where we work. We each have our own Hut, through some are less permanent than other’s. Hooper’s is a military issue tent: quite a large canopy, with two rooms inside and a short porch area where he insists people leave their shoes. It’s all zipped up for the night and no light shines from inside.
I hang back for a moment. If Harris is keeping to the terms of our deal then someone will be watching this place. But I can see no-one.
“I’m not sure. I was asleep: I woke up when someone broke the window. I looked out to see who it was, but they were already gone.”
Harris looks at me with puzzlement. “Someone came by to break the window, and then ran off? That’s absurd. That’s utterly absurd. Admit it, Manning. You tried to escape and you couldn’t get through.”
Well, then. To Hooper’s dorm. Time to wrap up this little game once and for all.
I creep around the outside of the Huts. All are quiet, steel-grey in the hazy moonlight; a few shining copper from arc-lamps strung from the trees. A few guards patrol the area at night but not many - after all, very few know this place even exists.
Our quarters are arranged away from the House; where we sleep is of less importance than where we work. We each have our own Hut, through some are less permanent than other’s. Hooper’s is a military issue tent: quite a large canopy, with two rooms inside and a short porch area where he insists people leave their shoes. It’s all zipped up for the night and no light shines from inside.
I hang back for a moment. If Harris is keeping to the terms of our deal then someone will be watching this place. But I can see no-one.
“I’ll talk to him.”
“What?”
“Put me in with Hooper. Maybe I can get something useful out of him. As his colleague.”
Harris shakes his head. “He despises you, doesn’t he? I don’t see why he’d give himself up to you.”
I shake my head violently, to say no, that’s not it, but whatever is wrong with tongue is wrong with neck too. I look across at the table at Harris’ face and realise with a start how sympathetic he is. Such a kind, generous man. How can I hold anything back from him?
I take another mouthful of the bitter, strange-tasting tea before answering.
“That’s exactly it,” I say quietly. “Harris. You understand. There are some things... which can get a man into a lot of trouble. Things one shouldn’t do.”
Harris, to his credit, doesn’t stiffen. He doesn’t lean away, or remove his hands from the table-top as though my condition might be infectious. I thought they trained them in the army to shoot my kind on sight but he does not.
Of course, he does not offer any sympathy either. He only nods, once. The understanding that has passed between us here is a mere turning cog in his calculations, with no meaning or righteousness to it.
“I’ve seen the same story a hundred times before,” he says. “A young man like yourself - clever, somewhat removed from the world. The kind that doesn’t go to parties, you might say. Who takes himself a little too seriously, perhaps. Takes things too far. Further than a man should allow a thing to go. That’s the story, isn’t it? You took things too far, and then you couldn’t take them back. And now they have you.”
“Well?”
“We’ll be outside the door,” Harris replies, seriously. “The first sign of any funny business and we’ll have you both on the floor in minutes. You understand? The country needs your brain, but it’s not too worried about your legs. Remember that.”
Then he gets to his feet, and opens the door, and marches me out and across the yard. The evening is drawing in and there’s a chill in the air. My mind is racing. I have one opportunity here - a moment in which to put the fear of God into Hooper and make him do something foolish to place himself in harm’s way. But how to achieve it?
“You ready?” Harris demands.
“You want me to tell you what happened? You’ll be disgusted, I’m quite sure.”
“I can imagine how it starts,” he growls.
“There was a young man, Harris. I met him in the town. A few months ago now. We got to talking - not about work. I said I was an accountant for a firm, just as I was supposed to. Although he seemed to know that wasn’t true. That got me wondering if he wasn’t one of us.”
Harris is not letting me off any more. “You seriously considered that possibility?”
“I don’t see why,” I reply, looking him straight in the eye.
His gaze is unexpressive: I’ve seen Harris broad and full of laughter, but today he is rigid, as much part of the military machine as the devices in Hut 5.
“There really isn’t any time to be wasted,” he says. “But you know why you’re here, of course.”
“Yes, I considered it. He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
“I was quite certain, after a while. After we’d been talking. He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
“He’s petty enough, certainly. He’s a creep.” I wipe a hand across my forehead. “All I can say is, ever since I arrived here, he’s been looking to ways to bring me down a peg. I wouldn’t be surprised if he set this whole affair up just to have me court-martialled.”
“We don’t court-martial civilians,” Harris replies. “Traitors are simply hung at her Majesty’s pleasure.”
“No. Not for more than a moment, of course. Everyone here is marked out by how little we would be willing to say about it.”
“Only you told this young man more than a little, didn’t you?”
I nod. “He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
“You’re the one applying pressure here,” I answer somewhat miserably. “I’m just waiting until you tell me what is really going on.”
“It’s simple enough,” Harris replies. “I’ve seen the same story a hundred times before,” he says. “A young man like yourself - clever, somewhat removed from the world. The kind that doesn’t go to parties, you might say. Who takes himself a little too seriously, perhaps. Takes things too far. Further than a man should allow a thing to go. That’s the story, isn’t it? You took things too far, and then you couldn’t take them back. And now they have you.”
“I know nothing about it.” My voice is shaking as I try to speak. I’m not accustomed to facing off against the Commander - against any man with a gun in his holster. “I don’t know what gives you the right to pick on me. Shouldn’t I have a lawyer?”
“This is time of war,” Harris answers. His tone of voice has fallen down into darkness. “And by God, if I have to shoot you to recover the component or stop it falling into the wrong hands, I will, do you understand me?”
There’s an icy silence. He’s angry. He waves an impetuous hand across the field table.
“Now, drink your tea and talk.”
Then pause. This is too transparent. Too blatant. If I leave it here, like this, Hooper will never be seen to go looking for it: he will stumble over it in plain sight, and the men watching will wonder why it was not there when he went to bed.
No, I must try something else - or nothing at all.
In case I’m being followed, I divert around the perimeter of the compound. It’s a much longer path, and it takes me across some terrain that’s difficult to negotiate in the dark - muddy, and thick with thistles and nestles.
Still, I can be confident no-one is following, as I hear nothing. I crouch down behind the rear wall of Hut 2. The component is still there, wrapped in a tea-towel and shoved into a cavity in a breeze-block at the base of the Hut wall.
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
Satisfied, I return the short way up the paths between the huts to the barrack block and the broken window.
It’s a little harder getting back through - the window is higher off the ground than the floor inside - but after a decent bit of jumping and hauling I manage to get my elbows up, and then one leg, and finally I collapse inside, quite winded and out breath.
“Well, then,” I answer, nervously. “What would he do? Either get rid of it straight away - or if that wasn’t possible, which it probably wouldn’t be, since he’d have to arrange things with his contacts - so most likely, he’d hide it somewhere and wait, until you had the rope around my neck and he could be sure he was safe.”
“Makes sense,” Harris agrees, cautiously. I can see he’s still not certain whether he can trust me. “Which means the question is, what can we do to rat him out?”
“Well, then,” I answer, nervously. “What would he do? Either get rid of it straight away - or if that wasn’t possible, which it probably wouldn’t be, since he’d have to arrange things with his contacts - so most likely, he’d hide it somewhere and wait, until you had the rope around my neck and he could be sure he was safe.”
“Makes sense,” Harris agrees, cautiously. I can see he’s still not certain whether he can trust me. “Which means the question is, what can we do to rat him out?”
I shift in my seat. “Not really. The boy was a simpleton, obviously. My intellectual inferior. His good opinion meant nothing to be. Harris, please do not misunderstand me. I was simply after his body.”
Harris, to his credit, doesn’t flinch. Well, perhaps not: but he’ll have nightmares of this moment tonight. I’m almost tempted to reach out and try to take his hand to worsen it for him, but I hold back.
“Go on with your confession,” he replies. I shrug.
“There’s not much else to say. I took the part from Bombe computing device. You seem to know that already. I had to. He was going to expose me if I didn’t.”
“This young man was blackmailing you over your affair?”
“If I wanted to escape, I would have made damn sure that I could,” I tell him sternly.
“Well, I’m afraid it is going to get worse for you,” Harris replies soberly. “We followed Hooper, and he took himself neatly to bed and slept like a boy scout. Which puts us back to square one, and you firmly in the frame. And I’m afraid I don’t have time for any more games. I want you to tell me where that component is, or we will hang you as a traitor.”
He passes a hand across his eyes with a long look of despair.
“I’m going to go outside and organise a rope. That’ll take about twelve minutes. That’s how long you have to decide.”
I put my ear to the keyhole but can make out nothing. Are there still guards posted? Perhaps, if Hooper has managed to incriminate himself, the guards have been removed?
Perhaps the door is unlocked and they left me to sleep? I try the handle. No such luck.
The night draws on at its own pace. I suppose by morning I will know my fate.
I slip off my jacket and hold it with one hand over the glass. This should do it. Then I heft my shoe by its toe, and take a strong swing, trying to imagine it’s Harris’ face on the other side.
The sound of the impact is muffled. With my arm still covered, I sweep out the remaining glass in the frame. I’m ready to escape. The only trouble is - when they look in on me in the morning, there will be no question what has happened. It won’t help me one jot with shifting suspicion off my back.
“I’d be happy to help,” I answer, sympathetically, leaning forward across the table. “I’m sure there’s something I could do.”
“Like what, exactly?”
“I suppose so,” I reply. “I’ve certainly done things I regret. Things I shouldn’t have done.”
“I see,” Harris answers. “You’ve left yourself open. To pressure. Is that what you’re saying?”
I have no God to make peace with. I find it difficult to believe in goodness of any kind, in a world such as this.
But I am no traitor. At least, not to my country. To my sex, perhaps. But how could I support the Reich? If it were to come to power, I would be worse off than under the already dire circumstances of my existence.
I have no place here. No way to fit. I am the intercept - caught, in the middle, cryptic and understood only thinly, through devices and machines.
“I was quite certain, after a while. After we’d been talking. He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
“Quite terrible. I would never have guessed.”
“Well.” Russell harrumphs. “Quince was saying this morning, apparently his grandfather was German. So perhaps it’s to be expected. See you there?”
I wave to him and move away, my thoughts turning to the young man in the village. My lover. My contact. My blackmailer. Hooper may have taken the fall for the missing component, but if it was his recovering it from Hut 2 then I have nothing to sell to save my reputation.
If he didn’t, of course, and Harris was telling the truth about his sudden confession, then I will be able to buy my freedom once and for all.
It’s no good. Nothing I can do will be any less than obvious - something appearing where something was not there before. The men watching Hooper will know it is a deception and Hooper’s protestations will be taken at face value.
If I can’t find a way for Hooper to pick the component up, as if from a hiding place of his own devising, and be caught doing it, then I have no plan at all.
I cast around the small room. There’s a bucket in one corner for emergencies - I suppose I could use that. I pick it up but it’s not very easy to heft. And the noise would be terrible. There must be a way of making this easier. I’m supposed to be a thief now. What would a burglar do?
“I’m not trying to do anything except save my neck.”
“Let’s hope things work out,” Harris agrees darkly.
He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. I can only hope that Hooper bites on my baited hook. If he thinks I’m mad and bitter enough to have framed him somehow, and arrogant enough to have taunted him with a clue to where the damning evidence is hidden... if he hates me enough, and is paranoid enough, then he might unravel my little riddle and go searching around Hut 2.
Thinking back, I should have wrapped the part from the Bombe in one of his shirts before hiding it, that would have been a clever move. I really do make a terrible spy.
“Perhaps the accomplice thought it was Hooper being kept in here. Maybe they saw the guard...”
“This is all too far-fetched,” Harris says. “I’m glad to have this back, but I need to think.”
Getting to his feet, he nods once. “You’ll have to wait a little longer, I’m afraid, Manning.”
Then he steps out of the door, muttering to himself.
“I saw Hooper take it.”
“I see.” He is starting to lose his temper - I can see it in the creases of his face. I have seen Harris angry a few times, with lackeys and secretaries and the like, usually over things sent late or incorrectly. But never with us. With the “brains” he has always been so cautious, treating us like children. And now I see that, like a father, he wants only to smack us when we disobey him. “I wish you’d stop with your deceptions and get to the truth, man. Every minute matters.”
I go over to the window and try to jimmy it open. Not much luck, but in my struggling I notice this window only backs on the thin little brook that runs down the back of the compound. Which means, if I smashed it, I might get away with no-one seeing.
The bucket? Hardly. The bucket might do some good if I wanted to sweep up the glass afterwards, but it won’t help me smash the glass quietly.
Ah, but of course! I slip off one shoe and heft it by the toe. The heel will make a decent enough hammer, if I give it enough wallop.
But I’ll cut my hand to ribbons doing it. And the noise would be terrible. There must be a way of making this easier. I’m supposed to be a thief now. What would a burglar do?
“I know where it is.”
Harris stares back at me.
“I see.” There’s a long pause, like the endless delay between feeding in a line of cypher to the Bombe and waiting for its valves and cylinders to heat up enough to being processing. “Would you like to explain?”
“Yes. Something like that. It’s a very lonely life otherwise. And the work we do - well. It only makes it worse. There’s barely a moment to oneself.”
“That’s how it is in the Service,” Harris answers. “I know you didn’t sign up for it but, well. There’s plenty of other men who didn’t who are serving now, too. Now, go on with your confession.”
That gives me pause, for a moment. I hadn’t thought of it as such. But I suppose that’s what this is. I am about to admit what I did, after all.
“There’s not much else to say. I took the part from Bombe computing device. You seem to know that already. I had to. He was going to expose me if I didn’t.”
“This young man was blackmailing you over your affair?”
The bunk has a solid metal frame, a blanket, a pillow, nothing more.
“So would you,” I reply tartly. Harris raises an eyebrow.
“I’ve been through worse than this,” he replies matter-of-factly. “It’s hardly my fault if you sleep in your clothes.”
I glare back at him.
He goes over to the window, unlocks it and throws it open, relishing the fresh air from outside. “Hooper’s confessed, you know.”
“I’m no traitor, damn it. You know I’m not. How much work have I done here? Against the Germans? Cracking their codes? Understanding their secrets? I’ve given it my all! And you know as well as I do, if the Reich were to invade, I would be a dead man for being what I am. So please, Hooper. I’m not doing any of this lightly. But I’m in a jam!”
“Assuming I wanted to help you,” he replies, carefully. “Which I don’t. What would I do?”
“Nothing. Almost nothing.
All you have to do is go to the back of Hut 2. There’s a breeze-block with a cavity. That’s where I’ve put it. I’ll be locked up overnight, I should think. But you can pick it up and pass it to my contact. He’ll be at the south fence around two AM."
“If you think I’ll do that then you’re crazy,” Hooper replies.
At that moment the door flies open and the Captain comes storming back inside.
Harris hustles me over to the barracks. “I hope that’s the end of it,” he mutters as he pushes me up the steps.
“Just be sure to let him out,” I reply. “And then see where he goes.”
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
“We’re still in ear-shot if they let Hooper go. Best get us inside and then we can talk, if we must.”
“I’ve had enough of your voice for one day,” Harris replies grimly. He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
“Well, then,” I answer, nervously. “What would he do? Either get rid of it straight away - or if that wasn’t possible, which it probably wouldn’t be, since he’d have to arrange things with his contacts - so most likely, he’d hide it somewhere and wait, until you had the rope around my neck and he could be sure he was safe.”
“Makes sense,” Harris agrees, cautiously. I can see he’s still not certain whether he can trust me. “Which means the question is, what can we do to rat him out?”
“He has? I knew he would. The worm.”
“Steady now. Matters aren’t over yet. There’s still the issue of the component. It hasn’t turned up. He didn’t lead us to it. I guess he figured you must have had something on him. I don’t know.”
He looks quite put out by the whole affair. He is not the kind of man to deal well with ambiguities and probabilities, far preferred the clarity of fact and falsehood.
“Quite right,” I answer smartly.
He stares back at me. “Let’s get straight to the point. Do you have the component?” Harris demands. “Do you know where it is?”
“I’m not sure. I was asleep: I woke up when someone broke the window. I looked out to see who it was, but they were already gone.”
Harris looks at me with puzzlement. “Someone came by to break the window, and then ran off? That’s absurd. That’s utterly absurd. Admit it, Manning. You tried to escape and you couldn’t get through.”
“Yes, I considered it. He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
I wait a few minutes, to be sure Hooper and the Captain will have gone, then try the door. It’s locked, all right. I’m not really one for picking locks. Never tried it. I don’t think I’ll be getting out that way.
“I suppose so,” I reply. “I’ve certainly done things I regret. Things I shouldn’t have done.”
“I see,” Harris answers. “You’ve left yourself open. To pressure. Is that what you’re saying?”
I let him have his rant. He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
“Well?”
“We’ll be outside the door,” Harris replies, seriously. “The first sign of any funny business and we’ll have you both on the floor in minutes. You understand? The country needs your brain, but it’s not too worried about your legs. Remember that.”
Then he gets to his feet, and opens the door, and marches me out and across the yard. The evening is drawing in and there’s a chill in the air. My mind is racing. I have one opportunity here - a moment in which to put the fear of God into Hooper and make him do something foolish to place himself in harm’s way. But how to achieve it?
“You ready?” Harris demands.
Enough of this place. Time for me to get moving. I can get to the train station on foot, catch the postal train to Scotland and be somewhere else before anyone realises that I’m gone.
Of course, then they’ll be looking for me in earnest. As a confirmed traitor.
“I always meant to tell you,” I tell him. “I thought perhaps I could find out who they were. Lead you to them.”
Harris looks at me with contempt. “You wretched little man. Don’t think your tongue will be able to get you out of trouble. You’re going to pay for what you’ve done, and you’re going to pay dearly. If a single man loses his life because of your pride and your perversions then God help your eternal soul. The fact is you committed a crime.” If I had any sense that he understood my predicament, and that he felt for my state of being, it collapses like a chain with a broken link. “You thought you could repair it with another, more serious crime?” He shakes his head. “I thought you men were supposed to be clever. But this is the action of a frightened woman. So I’d like you to tell me, now. Where is it?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
I open my mouth to disagree, but somehow the words will not come out. It is like Harris has taken a screwdriver to the sides of my jaw. My tongue feels thick and heavy.
“I suppose so,” I reply. “I’ve certainly done things I regret. Things I shouldn’t have done.”
“I see,” Harris answers. “You’ve left yourself open. To pressure. Is that what you’re saying?”
“I’m not trying to do anything except save my neck.”
“Let’s hope things work out,” Harris agrees darkly.
He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. I can only hope that Hooper bites on my baited hook. If he thinks I’m mad and bitter enough to have framed him somehow, and arrogant enough to have taunted him with a clue to where the damning evidence is hidden... if he hates me enough, and is paranoid enough, then he might unravel my little riddle and go searching around Hut 2.
Thinking back, I should have wrapped the part from the Bombe in one of his shirts before hiding it, that would have been a clever move. I really do make a terrible spy.
I put my ear to the keyhole but can make out nothing. Are there still guards posted? Perhaps, if Hooper has managed to incriminate himself, the guards have been removed?
Perhaps the door is unlocked and they left me to sleep? I try the handle. No such luck.
The night draws on at its own pace. I suppose by morning I will know my fate.
“That’s exactly it,” I say quietly. “Harris. You understand. There are some things... which can get a man into a lot of trouble. Things one shouldn’t do.”
Harris, to his credit, doesn’t stiffen. He doesn’t lean away, or remove his hands from the table-top as though my condition might be infectious. I thought they trained them in the army to shoot my kind on sight but he does not.
Of course, he does not offer any sympathy either. He only nods, once. The understanding that has passed between us here is a mere turning cog in his calculations, with no meaning or righteousness to it.
“I’ve seen the same story a hundred times before,” he says. “A young man like yourself - clever, somewhat removed from the world. The kind that doesn’t go to parties, you might say. Who takes himself a little too seriously, perhaps. Takes things too far. Further than a man should allow a thing to go. That’s the story, isn’t it? You took things too far, and then you couldn’t take them back. And now they have you.”
“I’ve thought so before.” Certainly in the matter of getting blackmailed.
“Let me tell you what happened this morning. Our men watching Hooper’s tent saw Hooper wake up, get dressed, clamber out of his tent and then remark with surprise as, while looking for his shoes, he stumbled on something just at the entrance of his tent.”
I say nothing, my lips tightly, firmly sealed. It’s true I am a traitor, to the very laws of nature. The world has taught me that since a very early age. But not to my country - should the Reich win this war, I would hardly be treated as an honoured hero. I was doomed from the very start.
I explain none of this. How could a man like Harris understand?
The Commander takes one look back from the doorway as he pulls it to.
“It’s been a pleasure working with you, Mr Manning,” he declares. “You’ve done a great service to this country. If we come through, I’m sure they’ll remember you name. I’m sorry it had to end this way and I’ll do my best to keep it quiet. No-one need know what you did.”
Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
Making a wide circuit I creep around the tent. It has plenty of other flaps and openings, tied down with Gordian complexity. But nothing afford itself to slipping the component inside.
“You can’t do this!” I cry. “It’s murder! I demand a trial, a lawyer; for God’s sake, man, you can’t just throw me overboard, we’re not barbarians...!”
“You leave me no choice,” Harris snaps back, eyes cold as gun-metal. “You and your damn cyphers. Your damn clever problems. If men like you didn’t exist, if we could just all be straight with one another.” He gets to his feet and heads for the door. “I fear for the future of this world, with men like you in. Reich or no Reich, Mr Manning, people like you simply complicate matters.”
Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
I let him have his rant. He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
Making a wide circuit I creep around the tent. It has plenty of other flaps and openings, tied down with Gordian complexity. But nothing afford itself to slipping the component inside.
“Yes, I considered it. He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
“I’m suggesting you save your own skin. I’ve wrapped that component in one of your shirts, Hooper. They’ll be searching this place top to bottom. They’ll find it eventually, and when they do, that’s the thing that will swing it against you. So take my advice now.”
“If you think I’ll do that then you’re crazy,” Hooper replies.
At that moment the door flies open and the Captain comes storming back inside.
Harris hustles me over to the barracks. “I hope that’s the end of it,” he mutters as he pushes me up the steps.
“Just be sure to let him out,” I reply. “And then see where he goes.”
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. Thinking back, I should have wrapped the part from the Bombe in one of his shirts before hiding it, that would have been a clever move. I really do make a terrible spy.
“I was quite certain, after a while. After we’d been talking. He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
“It’s not that bad. I can still fix it.”
Harris shakes his head. “This isn’t a problem to be cracked. This isn’t a puzzle. I’m sorry, but this is bigger than you now. Look. You can go to prison for what you’ve done, or we can change your identity and move you somewhere where your... indiscretions... can’t hurt anyone any more. But right now none of that matters. What happens to you, doesn’t matter. All that matters is where that component is. So I’d like you to tell me, now. Where is it?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
“I know where it is.”
Harris stares back at me.
“I see.” There’s a long pause, like the endless delay between feeding in a line of cypher to the Bombe and waiting for its valves and cylinders to heat up enough to being processing. “Would you like to explain?”
“I’m fine,” I reply. “This is all some misunderstanding and the quicker we have it cleared up the better.”
“I couldn’t agree more.” And then he comes right out with it, with an accusation. “Let’s get straight to the point. Do you have the component?” Harris demands. “Do you know where it is?”
But too important to guess. I move back around the side of the hut.
Harris is there, leaning in against the wall. He holds a stub pistol in his hand.
“Messy without one missing whatever it was,” he declares. “I wouldn’t have fathomed it but Hooper did. Explained it right after we sprung him doing what you’re doing now. We weren’t sure what to believe but now, you seem to have resolved that for us.”
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
So perhaps I should wait it out, after all. Who knows? I might have a better opportunity later.
The rest of the night passes slowly. I sleep a little, dozing mostly. Then I’m woken by the rooster in the yard. The door opens, and Harris comes in. He takes one look at the broken window and frowns with puzzlement.
“What happened there?”
The bucket? Hardly. The bucket might do some good if I wanted to sweep up the glass afterwards, but it won’t help me smash the glass quietly.
The weight of the Bombe component safely in my jacket, I return the short way up the paths between the huts to the barrack block and the broken window.
It’s a little harder getting back through - the window is higher off the ground than the floor inside - but after a decent bit of jumping and hauling I manage to get my elbows up, and then one leg, and finally I collapse inside, quite winded and out breath.
If I leave the component here somewhere it should be somewhere I can rely on Hooper finding it, but no-one before Hooper. In particular.
“I suppose so,” I reply. “I’ve certainly done things I regret. Things I shouldn’t have done.”
“I see,” Harris answers. “You’ve left yourself open. To pressure. Is that what you’re saying?”
“I broke it,” I reply. There doesn’t seem any use in trying to lie. “I thought I could escape. But I couldn’t get myself through.”
The Commander laughs. “Shame,” he remarks. “I should have left that window open and put a guard on you. Might have been interesting to see where you went. Anyway, I’m glad you’re still here, even if you do smell like a dog.”
There’s no time to lose. Throwing caution to the wind I make my way quickly to Hut 2, and around the back. I don’t think I’ve been followed, or seen but if I have, it’s too late. My actions are suspicious enough for anyone’s noose. I have no choice but to follow through.
The component is still there, wrapped in a tea-towel and shoved into a cavity in a breeze-block at the base of the Hut wall.
“I saw Hooper take it.”
“I see.” He is starting to lose his temper - I can see it in the creases of his face. I have seen Harris angry a few times, with lackeys and secretaries and the like, usually over things sent late or incorrectly. But never with us. With the “brains” he has always been so cautious, treating us like children. And now I see that, like a father, he wants only to smack us when we disobey him. “I wish you’d stop with your deceptions and get to the truth, man. Every minute matters.”
“Perhaps the accomplice thought it was Hooper being kept in here. Maybe they saw the guard...”
“This is all too far-fetched,” Harris says. “I’m glad to have this back, but I need to think.”
Getting to his feet, he nods once. “You’ll have to wait a little longer, I’m afraid, Manning.”
Then he steps out of the door, muttering to himself.
I have no God to make peace with. I find it difficult to believe in goodness of any kind, in a world such as this.
But I am no traitor. At least, not to my country. To my sex, perhaps. But how could I support the Reich? If it were to come to power, I would be worse off than under the already dire circumstances of my existence.
In truth, it is men like Harris who are complex, not men like me. I live to make things ordered, systematic. I like my pencils sharpened and lined up in a row. I do not deal in difficult borders, or uncertainties, or alliances. If I could, I would reduce the world to something easier to understand, something finite. But of course, I cannot, not even here, in this little micro-world, this safe haven from the horrors of the war.
I have no place here. No way to fit. I am the intercept - caught, in the middle, cryptic and understood only thinly, through devices and machines.
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
I cast around the small room. There’s a bucket in one corner for emergencies - I suppose I could use that. I pick it up but it’s not very easy to heft. And the noise would be terrible. There must be a way of making this easier. I’m supposed to be a thief now. What would a burglar do?
Making a wide circuit I creep around the tent. It has plenty of other flaps and openings, tied down with Gordian complexity. But nothing afford itself to slipping the component inside.
“No. It’s not treason. It’s a trade, plain and simple.”
“If you think I’ll do that then you’re crazy,” Hooper replies.
At that moment the door flies open and the Captain comes storming back inside.
Harris hustles me over to the barracks. “I hope that’s the end of it,” he mutters as he pushes me up the steps.
“Just be sure to let him out,” I reply. “And then see where he goes.”
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
“No. I have no idea.”
He’s talking about the missing reel from the Bombe. Russell discovered it this afternoon when the machine began producing strange results. We were all in the Hut when it happened and it had been in place when we sat down to work. The conclusions had been obvious to all four of us immediately, but had gone undiscussed, even after the empty socket was located, the wiring torn on either side.
“Lucky these things are easy to replace,” Russell had remarked, and that had been that. We had stopped work, sent out for a new part to be machined. And drunk our tea and watched each other.
“Come now,” Harris says, quite the reasonable gent. “As I told you. We’re not interviewing everyone. Only you. So. I think you can be a little more forthcoming.”
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
“Put me in with Hooper. Maybe I can get something useful out of him. As his colleague.”
Harris shakes his head. “He despises you, doesn’t he? I don’t see why he’d give himself up to you.”
“I know where it is.”
Harris stares back at me.
“I see.” There’s a long pause, like the endless delay between feeding in a line of cypher to the Bombe and waiting for its valves and cylinders to heat up enough to being processing. “Would you like to explain?”
“The component?”
“Yes,” Harris replies levelly. “The component that went missing this afternoon. I doubt that you’ve forgotten.”
He’s talking about the missing reel from the Bombe. Russell discovered it this afternoon when the machine began producing strange results. We were all in the Hut when it happened and it had been in place when we sat down to work. The conclusions had been obvious to all four of us immediately, but had gone undiscussed, even after the empty socket was located, the wiring torn on either side.
“Lucky these things are easy to replace,” Russell had remarked, and that had been that. We had stopped work, sent out for a new part to be machined. And drunk our tea and watched each other.
“Come now,” Harris says, quite the reasonable gent. “As I told you. We’re not interviewing everyone. Only you. So. I think you can be a little more forthcoming.”
“Yes, perhaps. But also to ensure your name goes down in the annals of mathematics. All you have to do is go to the back of Hut 2. There’s a breeze-block with a cavity. That’s where I’ve put it. I’ll be locked up overnight, I should think. But you can pick it up and pass it to my contact. He’ll be at the south fence around two AM.”
“If you think I’ll do that then you’re crazy,” Hooper replies.
At that moment the door flies open and the Captain comes storming back inside.
Harris hustles me over to the barracks. “I hope that’s the end of it,” he mutters as he pushes me up the steps.
“Just be sure to let him out,” I reply. “And then see where he goes.”
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
I put my ear down to the keyhole, but there’s nothing now. Probably still a guard outside, of course, but they’re keeping mum.
I say nothing, my lips tightly, firmly sealed. It’s true I am a traitor, to the very laws of nature. The world has taught me that since a very early age. But not to my country - should the Reich win this war, I would hardly be treated as an honoured hero. I was doomed from the very start.
I explain none of this. How could a man like Harris understand?
The Commander takes one look back from the doorway as he pulls it to.
“It’s been a pleasure working with you, Mr Manning,” he declares. “You’ve done a great service to this country. If we come through, I’m sure they’ll remember you name. I’m sorry it had to end this way and I’ll do my best to keep it quiet. No-one need know what you did.”
The Commander holds the door for his superior, and follows him out. Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
“No, Harris. I don’t think you can understand.”
“Go on with your confession,” he replies. That gives me pause, for a moment. I hadn’t thought of it as such. But I suppose that’s what this is. I am about to admit what I did, after all.
“There’s not much else to say. I took the part from Bombe computing device. You seem to know that already. I had to. He was going to expose me if I didn’t.”
“This young man was blackmailing you over your affair?”
As Harris speaks I find myself suddenly sharply aware, as if waking from a long sleep. The table, the corrugated walls of the hut, everything seems suddenly more tangible than a moment before. Perhaps whatever it was they put in my drink is wearing off?
Enough of this place. Time for me to get moving. I can get to the train station on foot, catch the postal train to Scotland and be somewhere else before anyone realises that I’m gone.
Of course, then they’ll be looking for me in earnest. As a confirmed traitor.
There is nothing I can do to speed up time. The night draws on at its own pace. I suppose by morning I will know my fate.
I put my ear down to the keyhole, but there’s nothing now. Probably still a guard outside, of course, but they’re keeping mum.
“What could I do?” I’m shaking now. The night is cold and the heat-lamp in this hut has been removed, presumably to keep me alert and on edge. “I won’t go to prison.”
“You committed a crime,” Harris answers. If I had any sense that he understood my predicament, and that he felt for my state of being, it collapses like a chain with a broken link. “You thought you could repair it with another, more serious crime?” He shakes his head. “I thought you men were supposed to be clever. But this is the action of a frightened woman. So I’d like you to tell me, now. Where is it?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
“We’re still in ear-shot if they let Hooper go. Best get us inside and then we can talk, if we must.”
“I’ve had enough of your voice for one day,” Harris replies grimly. He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
Work carefully? It’s difficult to work carefully when all one’s has is a shoe.
It’s no good. That’s only half a solution. I couldn’t be happy with that.
I go over to the window and try to jimmy it open. Not much luck, but in my struggling I notice this window only backs on the thin little brook that runs down the back of the compound. Which means, if I smashed it, I might get away with no-one seeing.
From outside, I hear a voice. Hooper’s. He’s haranguing someone, for something.
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
“Put me in with Hooper. Maybe I can get something useful out of him. As his colleague.”
Harris shakes his head. “He despises you, doesn’t he? I don’t see why he’d give himself up to you.”
“No. It’s not treason. It’s a trade, plain and simple.”
“If you think I’ll do that then you’re crazy,” Hooper replies.
At that moment the door flies open and the Captain comes storming back inside.
Harris hustles me over to the barracks. “I hope that’s the end of it,” he mutters as he pushes me up the steps.
“Just be sure to let him out,” I reply. “And then see where he goes.”
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
Let me see. There’s the bunk, a bucket, nothing else. I have my jacket but nothing in the pockets - no handkerchief, for instance.
The bucket? Hardly. The bucket might do some good if I wanted to sweep up the glass afterwards, but it won’t help me smash the glass quietly.
Enough of this place. Time for me to get moving. I can get to the train station on foot, catch the postal train to Scotland and be somewhere else before anyone realises that I’m gone.
Of course, then they’ll be looking for me in earnest. As a confirmed traitor.
But what is a country, after all? A country is not a concept, not an ideal. Every country falls, its borders shift and move, its language disappears to be replaced by another. Neither the Reich nor the British Empire will survive forever, so what use is my loyalty to either?
I may as well, therefore, look after myself. Something I have attempted, but failed miserably, to do.
“I’m afraid we have only one option, Manning,” Harris says. “Please, man. Tell us where the component is.”
I shrug, eloquently.
“This is all too far-fetched,” Harris says. “I’m glad to have this back, but I need to think.”
Getting to his feet, he nods once. “You’ll have to wait a little longer, I’m afraid, Manning.”
Then he steps out of the door, muttering to himself.
“You want me to tell you what happened? You’ll be disgusted, I’m quite sure.”
“I can imagine how it starts,” he growls.
“There was a young man, Harris. I met him in the town. A few months ago now. We got to talking - not about work. I said I was an accountant for a firm, just as I was supposed to. Although he seemed to know that wasn’t true. That got me wondering if he wasn’t one of us.”
Harris is not letting me off any more. “You seriously considered that possibility?”
I put my ear down to the keyhole, but there’s nothing now. Probably still a guard outside, of course, but they’re keeping mum.
It’s no good. Nothing I can do will be any less than obvious - something appearing where something was not there before. The men watching Hooper will know it is a deception and Hooper’s protestations will be taken at face value.
If I can’t find a way for Hooper to pick the component up, as if from a hiding place of his own devising, and be caught doing it, then I have no plan at all.
The bunk has a solid metal frame, a blanket, a pillow, nothing more.
“Hooper, I’ll make a deal with you. We both know what happened in that hut this afternoon. I know because I did it, and you know because you know you didn’t. But once this is done I’ll be rich, and I’ll split that with you. I’ll let you have the results, too. Your name on the discovery of the Bombe. And it won’t hurt the war effort - you know as well as me that the component on its own is worthless, it’s the wiring of the Bombe, the usage, that’s what’s valuable. So how about it?”
Hooper looks back at me, appalled. “You’re asking me to commit treason?”
“Absolutely.”
Harris opens the door and pushes me inside. “Captain,” he calls. “Could I have a moment?”
The Captain, looking puzzled, steps out. The door is closed. Hooper stares at me, open-mouthed, about to say something. I probably have less than a minute before the Captain storms back in and declares this plan to be bunkum.
The bucket? Hardly. The bucket might do some good if I wanted to sweep up the glass afterwards, but it won’t help me smash the glass quietly.
“It’s not that bad. I can still fix it.”
Harris shakes his head. “This isn’t a problem to be cracked. This isn’t a puzzle. I’m sorry, but this is bigger than you now. Look. You can go to prison for what you’ve done, or we can change your identity and move you somewhere where your... indiscretions... can’t hurt anyone any more. But right now none of that matters. What happens to you, doesn’t matter. All that matters is where that component is. So I’d like you to tell me, now. Where is it?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
“No. I didn’t.”
“This is all too far-fetched,” Harris says. “I’m glad to have this back, but I need to think.”
Getting to his feet, he nods once. “You’ll have to wait a little longer, I’m afraid, Manning.”
Then he steps out of the door, muttering to himself.
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
“I’m sure you’ve handled worse,” I reply casually, looking him straight in the eye.
His gaze is unexpressive: I’ve seen Harris broad and full of laughter, but today he is rigid, as much part of the military machine as the devices in Hut 5.
“There really isn’t any time to be wasted,” he says. “But you know why you’re here, of course.”
It’s no good. That’s only half a solution. I couldn’t be happy with that.
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
That is Harris returning. Our little computation here is complete. I only hope one of the others will be able to explain to him that the part I stole will mean nothing to the Germans.
That is the true secret of the calculating engine, and the source of its power: not in the components themselves, but in how they are wired together. The diversity of patterns and structures they can form. Much like people - it is how they connect that determines our victories and tragedies, and not their genius.
Which makes me wonder. Should I give up my beautiful young man to them as well as myself?
After a chance like this? A chance - however real - to save my neck? To hand it over - what, to save Hooper’s worthless skin?
I put my ear down to the keyhole, but there’s nothing now. Probably still a guard outside, of course, but they’re keeping mum.
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
“No. I passed it on to Hooper.”
“I see. And what did he do with it?”
The bunk has a solid metal frame, a blanket, a pillow, nothing more.
“There’s nothing to explain,” I reply stiffly. “I know where your component is because it’s obvious where your component is. That doesn’t mean I took it, just because I can figure out a simple problem, any more than it means I’m a German spy because I can crack their codes.”
“Tell me, then,” he asks. “What’s your theory? You’re a smart fellow - as smart as they come around here, and that’s saying something. What’s your opinion on the missing component? Accident, perhaps? Or do you blame one of the other men?”
“Perhaps the accomplice thought it was Hooper being kept in here. Maybe they saw the guard...”
“This is all too far-fetched,” Harris says. “I’m glad to have this back, but I need to think.”
Getting to his feet, he nods once. “You’ll have to wait a little longer, I’m afraid, Manning.”
Then he steps out of the door, muttering to himself.
“I suppose so,” I reply. “I’ve certainly done things I regret. Things I shouldn’t have done.”
“I see,” Harris answers. “You’ve left yourself open. To pressure. Is that what you’re saying?”
“No,” Harris declares, finally. “I think you’re lying about Hooper. I think you’re a clever, scheming young man - that’s why we hired you - and you’re looking for the only reasonable out this situation has to offer. But I’m not taking it. We know you were in the room with the machine, we know you’re of a perverted persuasion, we know you have compromised yourself. There’s nothing more to say here. Either you tell me what you’ve done with that component, or we will hang you and search just as hard. It’s your choice.”
He gets to his feet, and gathers his gloves from the table top.
“I’m going to go outside and organise a rope. That’ll take about twelve minutes. That’s how long you have to decide.”
With my jacket wrapped round my arm, I sweep out the remaining shards of glass. It’s not a big window, but I’m not a big man. If I was Harris, I’d be stuffed, but as it is...
Then the door locks turns. The door opens. Then Jeremy - one of the guards, rather - sticks his head through the door. “I thought I heard...”
He stops. Looks for a moment. Sees the bucket in my hand. Then without a moment’s further thought he blows his shrill whistles and hustles into the hut, grabbing me roughly by my arms.
I’m hustled into one of the huts. Nowhere to sleep, but they’re not interested in my comfort any longer. Harris comes in with the Captain.
“So,” Harris remarks. “Looks like your little trap worked. Only it worked to show you out for what you are.”
“Of my genius. Hooper simply can’t stand that I’m cleverer than he is. We work so closely together, cooped up in that Hut all day. It drives him to distraction. To worse.”
“You’re suggesting Hooper would sabotage this country’s future simply to spite you?” Harris chooses his words like the military man he is, each lining up to create a ring around me.
“It will. Hooper’s running scared,” I reply, hoping I sound more confident than I feel.
“I think we’ve had enough drama today already,” Harris replies. “Let’s hope for a clean kill.”
He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
“I was quite certain, after a while. After we’d been talking. He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
“No. I passed it on to Hooper.”
“I see. And what did he do with it?”
“All right.” With a sigh, your defiance collapses."If you’re searched my things then I suppose you’ve found my letters. Haven’t you? In fact, if you haven’t, don’t tell me.
Harris nods once. “I’ve seen the same story a hundred times before,” he says. “A young man like yourself - clever, somewhat removed from the world. The kind that doesn’t go to parties, you might say. Who takes himself a little too seriously, perhaps. Takes things too far. Further than a man should allow a thing to go. That’s the story, isn’t it? You took things too far, and then you couldn’t take them back. And now they have you.”
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
“I’m not trying to do anything except save my neck.”
“Let’s hope things work out,” Harris agrees darkly.
He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. I can only hope that Hooper bites on my baited hook. If he thinks I’m mad and bitter enough to have framed him somehow, and arrogant enough to have taunted him with a clue to where the damning evidence is hidden... if he hates me enough, and is paranoid enough, then he might unravel my little riddle and go searching around Hut 2.
Thinking back, I should have wrapped the part from the Bombe in one of his shirts before hiding it, that would have been a clever move. I really do make a terrible spy.
“I was quite certain, after a while. After we’d been talking. He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
I go over to the window and try to jimmy it open. Not much luck, but in my struggling I notice this window only backs on the thin little brook that runs down the back of the compound. Which means, if I smashed it, I might get away with no-one seeing.
From outside, I hear a voice. Hooper’s. He’s haranguing someone, for something.
“I can’t remember.”
He draws his gun and lays it lightly on the field table.
“I’m sorry to threaten you, friend. But His Majesty needs that brain of yours, and that brain alone. There are plenty of other parts to you that our country could do better without. Now I’ll ask you again. Did you hide the component?”
I see. Perhaps you think I bullied the man into giving himself up. Perhaps he understood my little clue far enough to know it was a threat against him, but not well enough to understand where he should look to find it. So he took the easy route out and folded. Gave me the hand.
Hardly sporting, is that it?
“It doesn’t matter. Just remember what I said. I’ve beaten you, Hooper. Remember that.”
I get to my feet and open the door of the Hut. The Captain storms back inside and I’m quickly thrown out. Harris hustles me over to the barracks. “I hope that’s the end of it,” he mutters as he pushes me up the steps.
“Just be sure to let him out,” I reply. “And then see where he goes.”
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. Thinking back, I should have wrapped the part from the Bombe in one of his shirts before hiding it, that would have been a clever move. I really do make a terrible spy.
Morning comes with the call of a rooster from the yard of the House. I must have slept after all. I pull myself up off the bunk, shivering slightly. There is condensation on the inside of the window. I have probably given myself a chill.
It’s not long after that Harris enters the hut. He closes the door behind him, careful as ever, then takes a chair across from me.
“You smell like a dog,” he remarks.
There is nothing I can do to speed up time. The night draws on at its own pace. I suppose by morning I will know my fate.
“I broke it,” I reply. There doesn’t seem any use in trying to lie. “I thought I could escape. But I couldn’t get myself through.”
The Commander laughs. “Shame,” he remarks. “I should have left that window open and put a guard on you. Might have been interesting to see where you went. Anyway, I’m glad you’re still here, even if you do smell like a dog.”
“We’re still in ear-shot if they let Hooper go. Best get us inside and then we can talk, if we must.”
“I’ve had enough of your voice for one day,” Harris replies grimly. He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
Work carefully? It’s difficult to work carefully when all one’s has is a shoe.
“Please, Harris. You can’t understand the pressure they put me under. You can’t understand what it’s like, to be in love but be able to do nothing about it...”
“Be quiet, man. We know all about your and your sordid affairs.” The Captain curls his lip. “Don’t you know there’s a war on? Do you know the kind of place they would have sent you if it haven’t had been for that brain of yours? Don’t you think you owe it to your country to use it a little more?”
Do I, I wonder? Do I owe this country anything, this country that has spurned who and what am I since the day I became a man?
I peer out of the window, but it looks out onto the little brook at the back of the compound, with no view of the other huts or the House. Who knows if there are men up, searching the base of Hut 2, following one another with flashlights...
The night draws on at its own pace. I suppose by morning I will know my fate.
“I’ve thought so before.”
“Let me tell you what happened this morning. Our men watching Hooper’s tent saw Hooper wake up, get dressed, clamber out of his tent and then remark with surprise as, while looking for his shoes, he stumbled on something just at the entrance of his tent.”
The bucket? Hardly. The bucket might do some good if I wanted to sweep up the glass afterwards, but it won’t help me smash the glass quietly.
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
“Well?”
“We’ll be outside the door,” Harris replies, seriously. “The first sign of any funny business and we’ll have you both on the floor in minutes. You understand? The country needs your brain, but it’s not too worried about your legs. Remember that.”
Then he gets to his feet, and opens the door, and marches me out and across the yard. The evening is drawing in and there’s a chill in the air. My mind is racing. I have one opportunity here - a moment in which to put the fear of God into Hooper and make him do something foolish to place himself in harm’s way. But how to achieve it?
“You ready?” Harris demands.
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
The blanket. Perfect. I scoop it up off the bed and hold it in place over the window. This should do it. Then I heft back my arm, and take a strong swing, trying to imagine it’s Harris’ face on the other side.
The sound of the impact is muffled. With my arm still covered, I sweep out the remaining glass in the frame. I’m ready to escape. The only trouble is - when they look in on me in the morning, there will be no question what has happened. It won’t help me one jot with shifting suspicion off my back.
So perhaps I should wait it out, after all. Who knows? I might have a better opportunity later.
The rest of the night passes slowly. I sleep a little, dozing mostly. Then I’m woken by the rooster in the yard. The door opens, and Harris comes in. He takes one look at the broken window and frowns with puzzlement.
“What happened there?”
“No. Not for more than a moment, of course. Everyone here is marked out by how little we would be willing to say about it.”
“Only you told this young man more than a little, didn’t you?”
I nod. “He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
“We’re still in ear-shot if they let Hooper go. Best get us inside and then we can talk, if we must.”
“I’ve had enough of your voice for one day,” Harris replies grimly. He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
“No. I passed it on to Hooper.”
“I see. And what did he do with it?”
I wait a few minutes, to be sure Hooper and the Captain will have gone, then try the door. It’s locked, all right. I’m not really one for picking locks. Never tried it. I don’t think I’ll be getting out that way.
“I don’t know what gives you the right to pick on me. Shouldn’t I have a lawyer?”
“This is time of war,” Harris answers. His tone of voice has fallen down into darkness. “And by God, if I have to shoot you to recover the component or stop it falling into the wrong hands, I will, do you understand me?”
There’s an icy silence. He’s angry. He waves an impetuous hand across the field table.
“Now, drink your tea and talk.”
“I’ve thought so before.”
“Let me tell you what happened this morning. Our men watching Hooper’s tent saw Hooper wake up, get dressed, clamber out of his tent and then remark with surprise as, while looking for his shoes, he stumbled on something just at the entrance of his tent.”
“No. I didn’t.”
“This is all too far-fetched,” Harris says. “I’m glad to have this back, but I need to think.”
Getting to his feet, he nods once. “You’ll have to wait a little longer, I’m afraid, Manning.”
Then he steps out of the door, muttering to himself.
“I know where it is.”
Harris stares back at me.
“I see.” There’s a long pause, like the endless delay between feeding in a line of cypher to the Bombe and waiting for its valves and cylinders to heat up enough to being processing. “Would you like to explain?”
“For God’s sake, man, what do you have to lose?”
“We’ll be outside the door,” Harris replies, seriously. “The first sign of any funny business and we’ll have you both on the floor in minutes. You understand? The country needs your brain, but it’s not too worried about your legs. Remember that.”
Then he gets to his feet, and opens the door, and marches me out and across the yard. The evening is drawing in and there’s a chill in the air. My mind is racing. I have one opportunity here - a moment in which to put the fear of God into Hooper and make him do something foolish to place himself in harm’s way. But how to achieve it?
“You ready?” Harris demands.
“I don’t think Hooper could have planned this in advance. So he’d need to get word to whoever he’s working with, and that would take time. So I think he would have hidden it somewhere, and be waiting to make sure I soundly take the fall. That way, if anything goes wrong, he can arrange for the part to be conveniently re-found.”
“Makes sense,” Harris agrees, cautiously. I can see he’s still not entirely convinced by my tale, as well he might not be - I’ve hardly been entirely straight with him. “Which means the question is, what can we do to rat him out?”
“Yes. Probably under my bunk.”
Harris smiles wryly. “We’ll know that for a fake, then. We’ve looked there already. I don’t mind telling you, this is a disaster, this whole thing. What I want is to find that little bit of mechanical trickery anywhere. I don’t care where. In your luncheon box or under Hooper’s pillow, whatever. Just somewhere, and within the grounds of this place.”
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
“Just adding to the drama,” I tell him, confidently. “I’m sure you can understand that.”
“I think we’ve had enough drama today already,” Harris replies. “Let’s hope for a clean kill.”
He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
“I’m sure you’ve handled worse,” I reply casually, sipping at my tea as if we were the best of friends.
His gaze is unexpressive: I’ve seen Harris broad and full of laughter, but today he is rigid, as much part of the military machine as the devices in Hut 5.
“I’m sorry to pull you up so roughly,” he says. “But you know why you’re here, of course.”
Curiouser and curiouser. I nod once to Harris and slip outside into the cold morning air.
Hooper’s confession only makes sense in one fashion - if I successfully implied to him that I had him framed, but he did not unpack my little clue well enough to go looking for the component. Well, I had figured him for a more intelligent opponent, but a resignation from the game will suffice. Or perhaps he knew he would be followed if he went to check, and decided he would be doomed either way.
Of course, however, there is only one way to be certain that Harris is telling the truth, and that is to find a quiet moment and check the breeze-block at the back of Hut 2.
The bunk has a solid metal frame, a blanket, a pillow, nothing more.
That is Harris returning. Our little computation here is complete. I only hope one of the others will be able to explain to him that the part I stole will mean nothing to the Germans.
That is the true secret of the calculating engine, and the source of its power: not in the components themselves, but in how they are wired together. The diversity of patterns and structures they can form. Much like people - it is how they connect that determines our victories and tragedies, and not their genius.
Which makes me wonder. Should I give up my beautiful young man to them as well as myself?
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
“None of us are blameless, Harris. But you’re not my priest and I’m not yours. Now, please. Let me go. I’ll help you find this damn component, of course I will.”
He appears to consider the offer.
“Tell me, then,” he asks. “What’s your theory? You’re a smart fellow - as smart as they come around here, and that’s saying something. What’s your opinion on the missing component? Accident, perhaps? Or do you blame one of the other men? Hooper?”
I shift in my seat. “Not really. The boy was a simpleton, obviously. My intellectual inferior. His good opinion meant nothing to be. Harris, please do not misunderstand me. I was simply after his body.”
Harris, to his credit, doesn’t flinch. Well, perhaps not: but he’ll have nightmares of this moment tonight. I’m almost tempted to reach out and try to take his hand to worsen it for him, but I hold back.
“Go on with your confession,” he replies. I shrug.
“There’s not much else to say. I took the part from Bombe computing device. You seem to know that already. I had to. He was going to expose me if I didn’t.”
“This young man was blackmailing you over your affair?”
The bunk has a solid metal frame, a blanket, a pillow, nothing more.
Then pause. This is too transparent. Too blatant. If I leave it here, like this, Hooper will never be seen to go looking for it: he will stumble over it in plain sight, and the men watching will wonder why it was not there when he went to bed.
No, I must try something else - or nothing at all.
“Explain what you should be doing, do you mean, rather than bullying me? Certainly.” I fold my arms. “I know where your component is because it’s obvious where your component is. That doesn’t mean I took it, just because I can figure out a simple problem, any more than it means I’m a German spy because I can crack their codes.”
“Tell me, then,” he asks. “What’s your theory? You’re a smart fellow - as smart as they come around here, and that’s saying something. What’s your opinion on the missing component? Accident, perhaps? Or do you blame one of the other men?”
“No. I have no idea.”
He’s talking about the missing reel from the Bombe. Russell discovered it this afternoon when the machine began producing strange results. We were all in the Hut when it happened and it had been in place when we sat down to work. The conclusions had been obvious to all four of us immediately, but had gone undiscussed, even after the empty socket was located, the wiring torn on either side.
“Lucky these things are easy to replace,” Russell had remarked, and that had been that. We had stopped work, sent out for a new part to be machined. And drunk our tea and watched each other.
“Come now,” Harris says, quite the reasonable gent. “As I told you. We’re not interviewing everyone. Only you. So. I think you can be a little more forthcoming.”
Curiouser and curiouser. I nod once to Harris and slip outside into the cold morning air.
Hooper’s confession only makes sense in one fashion - if I successfully implied to him that I had him framed, but he did not unpack my little clue well enough to go looking for the component. Well, I had figured him for a more intelligent opponent, but a resignation from the game will suffice. Or perhaps he knew he would be followed if he went to check, and decided he would be doomed either way.
Of course, however, there is only one way to be certain that Harris is telling the truth, and that is to find a quiet moment and check the breeze-block at the back of Hut 2.
“Yes, perhaps. But also to ensure your name goes down in the annals of mathematics. All you have to do is go to the back of Hut 2. There’s a breeze-block with a cavity. That’s where I’ve put it. I’ll be locked up overnight, I should think. But you can pick it up and pass it to my contact. He’ll be at the south fence around two AM.”
“If you think I’ll do that then you’re crazy,” Hooper replies.
At that moment the door flies open and the Captain comes storming back inside.
Harris hustles me over to the barracks. “I hope that’s the end of it,” he mutters as he pushes me up the steps.
“Just be sure to let him out,” I reply. “And then see where he goes.”
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
I shift in my seat. “Not really. The boy was a simpleton, obviously. My intellectual inferior. His good opinion meant nothing to be. Harris, please do not misunderstand me. I was simply after his body.”
Harris, to his credit, doesn’t flinch. Well, perhaps not: but he’ll have nightmares of this moment tonight. I’m almost tempted to reach out and try to take his hand to worsen it for him, but I hold back.
“Go on with your confession,” he replies. I shrug.
“There’s not much else to say. I took the part from Bombe computing device. You seem to know that already. I had to. He was going to expose me if I didn’t.”
“This young man was blackmailing you over your affair?”
“Only that this process is unreasonable, and I believe you’re behaving like a swine.”
“You imbecile,” Harris replies, with sudden force. He is half out of his chair. “You know the situation as well as I do, so why all this fencing? The Hun are poised like rats, ready to run all over this country. They’ll destroy everything, you do understand that, don’t you? You’re not so locked up inside your crossword puzzles that you don’t see that, are you? And this machine we have here - you men - you are the best and only hope this country has. God help her.”
I sit back, startled by the force of his outburst. His carefully sculpted expression has curled to angry disgust and there is spit flecking his lips. He really does hate me, I think. He’ll have my neck just for the taste of it.
“I’m suggesting you save your own skin. I’ve wrapped that component in one of your shirts, Hooper. They’ll be searching this place top to bottom. They’ll find it eventually, and when they do, that’s the thing that will swing it against you. So take my advice now.”
“If you think I’ll do that then you’re crazy,” Hooper replies.
At that moment the door flies open and the Captain comes storming back inside.
Harris hustles me over to the barracks. “I hope that’s the end of it,” he mutters as he pushes me up the steps.
“Just be sure to let him out,” I reply. “And then see where he goes.”
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. Thinking back, I should have wrapped the part from the Bombe in one of his shirts before hiding it, that would have been a clever move. I really do make a terrible spy.
I pause a moment, trying to choose my words. To just come out and say it, after a lifetime of hiding... I wouldn’t know how. To put it into words, bluntly and directly: that is a circle I cannot square.
“I’ve done things,” I begin, uncomfortably. “I didn’t want to. I tried not to. But in the end, you understand. I had to. It felt like cutting off my own arm not to. Things I know I shouldn’t have. Things I perhaps regret.”
“I see,” Harris answers. “You’ve left yourself open. To pressure. Is that what you’re saying?”
I suppose I do not believe they will hang me. They will lock me up and continue to use my brain, if they can. I wonder what they will tell the world - perhaps that I have taken my own life. That would be simplest. The few who know me would believe it.
Well, then. Not a bad existence, in prison. Removed from temptation. A kind of imposed monasticism, with plenty more problems to solve, and more mysteries to fathom.
I wonder what else I might yet unravel before I’m done?
“We’ll fool him. He’s waiting to be sure that I’ve been strung up for this, so let’s give him what he wants. If he sees me taken away, clapped in irons - he’ll go straight to that component and set about getting rid of it.”
Harris gets to his feet. “All right,” he says. “I should no better than to trust a clever man, but we’ll give it a go.” Then, he smiles, with all his teeth, like a wolf. “Hooper’s in Hut 3 being debriefed by the Captain. Let’s see if we can’t get his attention somehow.”
He raps on the door for the guard and gives the man a quick instruction. He returns a moment later with a cool pair of iron cuffs.
“Put ‘em up,” Harris instructs, and I do so. The metal closes around my wrists like a trap. I stand and follow Harris willingly out through the door.
But whatever I’m doing with my body, my mind is scheming. Somehow, I’m thinking, I have to get away from these men long enough to get that component behind Hut 2 and put it somewhere Hooper will go. Or, otherwise, somehow get Hooper to go there himself...
Harris marches me over to Hut 3, and gestures for the guard to stand aside. Pushing me forward, he opens the door nice and wide.
“Captain. Manning talked. If you’d step out for a moment?”
I have in my head to blame Hooper, but somehow I cannot find a way to tell the story. Whatever they put in my tea, it has control of my tongue. I find myself collapsing, desperate to tell him everything, almost weeping with the shame of it.
“There was a young man, Harris. I met him in the town. A few months ago now. We got to talking - not about work, you understand. I said I was an accountant for a firm, just as I was supposed to. Although he seemed to know that wasn’t true. That got me wondering if he wasn’t one of us.”
Harris is not letting me off any more. “You seriously considered that possibility?”
I shake my head violently, to say no, that’s not it, but whatever is wrong with tongue is wrong with neck too. I look across at the table at Harris’ face and realise with a start how sympathetic he is. Such a kind, generous man. How can I hold anything back from him?
I take another mouthful of the bitter, strange-tasting tea before answering.
“That’s exactly it,” I say quietly. “Harris. You understand. There are some things... which can get a man into a lot of trouble. Things one shouldn’t do.”
Harris, to his credit, doesn’t stiffen. He doesn’t lean away, or remove his hands from the table-top as though my condition might be infectious. I thought they trained them in the army to shoot my kind on sight but he does not.
Of course, he does not offer any sympathy either. He only nods, once. The understanding that has passed between us here is a mere turning cog in his calculations, with no meaning or righteousness to it.
“I’ve seen the same story a hundred times before,” he says. “A young man like yourself - clever, somewhat removed from the world. The kind that doesn’t go to parties, you might say. Who takes himself a little too seriously, perhaps. Takes things too far. Further than a man should allow a thing to go. That’s the story, isn’t it? You took things too far, and then you couldn’t take them back. And now they have you.”
“No. I have no idea.”
He’s talking about the missing reel from the Bombe. Russell discovered it this afternoon when the machine began producing strange results. We were all in the Hut when it happened and it had been in place when we sat down to work. The conclusions had been obvious to all four of us immediately, but had gone undiscussed, even after the empty socket was located, the wiring torn on either side.
“Lucky these things are easy to replace,” Russell had remarked, and that had been that. We had stopped work, sent out for a new part to be machined. And drunk our tea and watched each other.
“Come now,” Harris says, quite the reasonable gent. “As I told you. We’re not interviewing everyone. Only you. So. I think you can be a little more forthcoming.”
Moving quickly and quietly, I hoist myself up onto the window-frame and worm my way outside into the freezing night air. Then I’m away, slipping down the paths between the Huts, sticking to the shadows, on my way to Hut 2.
The bunk has a solid metal frame, a blanket, a pillow, nothing more.
Quickly, I pull it free, and slip it into the pocket of my jacket.
Where now?
“I don’t need twelve minutes. Here it is.”
I open my jacket and pull the Bombe component out of my pocket. Harris takes it from me, whistling, curious.
“Well, I’ll be. That’s it all right.”
“That’s it.”
“But you didn’t have it on you yesterday.”
“We’re still in ear-shot if they let Hooper go. Best get us inside and then we can talk, if we must.”
“I’ve had enough of your voice for one day,” Harris replies grimly. He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
The bunk has a solid metal frame, a blanket, a pillow, nothing more.
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
“Try me. Just me and him.”
“Alone?”
“Alone.”
Harris considers it. I watch his eyes, flicking backwards and forwards over mine, like a ribbon-reader trying to load in its program.
“No. Not for more than a moment, of course. Everyone here is marked out by how little we would be willing to say about it.”
“Only you told this young man more than a little, didn’t you?”
I nod. “He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
The rest of the night passes slowly. I sleep a little, dozing mostly. Then I’m woken by the rooster in the yard. The door opens, and Harris comes in. He takes one look at the broken window and frowns with puzzlement.
“What happened there?”
Making a wide circuit I creep around the tent. It has plenty of other flaps and openings, tied down with Gordian complexity. But nothing afford itself to slipping the component inside.
“He has? I knew he would. The worm.”
“Steady now. Matters aren’t over yet. There’s still the issue of the component. It hasn’t turned up. He didn’t lead us to it. I guess he figured you must have had something on him. I don’t know.”
He looks quite put out by the whole affair. He is not the kind of man to deal well with ambiguities and probabilities, far preferred the clarity of fact and falsehood.
I go over to the window and try to jimmy it open. Not much luck, but in my struggling I notice this window only backs on the thin little brook that runs down the back of the compound. Which means, if I smashed it, I might get away with no-one seeing.
“You treated me like vermin. Like something abhorrent.”
“You are something abhorrent.”
“I wasn’t. Not when I came here. And I won’t be, once you’re gone.”
I get to my feet and open the door of the Hut. The Captain storms back inside and I’m quickly thrown out. Harris hustles me over to the barracks. “I hope that’s the end of it,” he mutters as he pushes me up the steps.
“Just be sure to let him out,” I reply. “And then see where he goes.”
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. Thinking back, I should have wrapped the part from the Bombe in one of his shirts before hiding it, that would have been a clever move. I really do make a terrible spy.
I slip off my jacket and hold it with one hand over the glass. This should do it. Then I heft my shoe by its toe, and take a strong swing, trying to imagine it’s Harris’ face on the other side.
The sound of the impact is muffled. With my arm still covered, I sweep out the remaining glass in the frame. I’m ready to escape. The only trouble is - when they look in on me in the morning, there will be no question what has happened. It won’t help me one jot with shifting suspicion off my back.
“All right.” With a sigh, your defiance collapses."If you’re searched my things then I suppose you’ve found... what you need.
Harris nods once. “I’ve seen the same story a hundred times before,” he says. “A young man like yourself - clever, somewhat removed from the world. The kind that doesn’t go to parties, you might say. Who takes himself a little too seriously, perhaps. Takes things too far. Further than a man should allow a thing to go. That’s the story, isn’t it? You took things too far, and then you couldn’t take them back. And now they have you.”
“Hooper, I’ll make a deal with you. We both know what happened in that hut this afternoon. I know because I did it, and you know because you know you didn’t. But once this is done I’ll be rich, and I’ll split that with you. I’ll let you have the results, too. Your name on the discovery of the Bombe. And it won’t hurt the war effort - you know as well as me that the component on its own is worthless, it’s the wiring of the Bombe, the usage, that’s what’s valuable. So how about it?”
Hooper looks back at me, appalled. “You’re asking me to commit treason?”
“Well, I’m glad his conscience finally caught up with him,” I reply dismissively.
“The Captain went back into that hut and he confessed immediately. We were so surprised we didn’t let you go.” He wrinkles his nose. “I’m rather sorry about that now, but I suppose we’ll let you go know. I suggest you have a wash.”
And with that he gestures to the doorway.
“I did. I know what you’re thinking. If I’ve transgressed once then I must be the guilty man for all the crimes in this compound... But I’m not, I tell you. We were close to cracking the 13th’s missive; trying our latest pattern and beginning to see some correlations in the data - and then Hooper disappeared for a moment and the machine went down.”
I have become, somehow, an accustomed liar - the words roll easily off my tongue. Perhaps I am a traitor, I think, now that I dissemble as easily as one.
“Go on,” Harris says, giving me no indication of whether he believes my tale.
“No, Harris. The young man wasn’t blackmailing me.” I take a deep breath. “It was Hooper.”
“Hooper!” Harris exclaims, in surprise.
“It’s the truth, Harris. If I’m going to jail, then so be it, but I won’t hang at Traitor’s Gate. Hooper was the one who told the boy about our work. Hooper put the boy on to me. I should have realised, of course. These things don’t happen by chance. I was a fool to think they might. And then, once he had me compromised, he demanded I steal the part from the machine.”
“Which you did.” Harris leans forward. “And then what? You still have it? You put it somewhere?”
“It doesn’t matter. Just remember what I said. I’ve beaten you, Hooper. Remember that.”
I get to my feet and open the door of the Hut. The Captain storms back inside and I’m quickly thrown out. Harris hustles me over to the barracks. “I hope that’s the end of it,” he mutters as he pushes me up the steps.
“Just be sure to let him out,” I reply. “And then see where he goes.”
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. Thinking back, I should have wrapped the part from the Bombe in one of his shirts before hiding it, that would have been a clever move. I really do make a terrible spy.
“I’m not trying to do anything except save my neck.”
“Let’s hope things work out,” Harris agrees darkly.
He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
“He never could be trusted. You should never have hired him. A below average intelligence can’t cope with the pressures in this place.”
Harris rolls his eyes, but he might almost be smiling. “You’d better get along, Mr Intelligent. There’s a 24-hour-out-of-date message to be tackled and we’re a genius short. So you’d better be ready to work twice as hard.”
Enough of this place. Time for me to get moving. I can get to the train station on foot, catch the postal train to Scotland and be somewhere else before anyone realises that I’m gone.
Of course, then they’ll be looking for me in earnest. As a confirmed traitor.
I take the cup, and raise it to my lips, blowing away the steam. It is too hot to drink. He picks his own up and just holds it.
“Quite a difficult situation, this,” he begins, cautiously. I’ve seen him adopting this stiff tone of voice before, but only when talking to brass. “I’m sure you agree.”
“I saw him take it,” I reply, stubbornly. “Collins and Humph were outside having a cigarette, I think. The other two men were at the table. But I was at the front of the machine. I saw Hooper go around the side, and lean down, and pull something free. I even challenged him on it. I said, ‘What’s that? Someone put a nail through somewhere they shouldn’t have?’ He didn’t reply.”
“We are left with two possibilities, quite clearly. You, or Hooper.” The Commander pauses to smooth down his moustache. “Hooper’s in Hut 3 with the Captain, having a similar conversation.”
“Yes. Something like that. It’s a very lonely life otherwise. And the work we do - well. It only makes it worse. There’s barely a moment to oneself.”
“That’s how it is in the Service,” Harris answers. “I know you didn’t sign up for it but, well. There’s plenty of other men who didn’t who are serving now, too. Now, go on with your confession.”
That gives me pause, for a moment. I hadn’t thought of it as such. But I suppose that’s what this is. I am about to admit what I did, after all.
“There’s not much else to say. I took the part from Bombe computing device. You seem to know that already. I had to. He was going to expose me if I didn’t.”
“This young man was blackmailing you over your affair?”
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
I let him have his rant. He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. I can only hope that Hooper bites on my baited hook. If he thinks I’m mad and bitter enough to have framed him somehow, and arrogant enough to have taunted him with a clue to where the damning evidence is hidden... if he hates me enough, and is paranoid enough, then he might unravel my little riddle and go searching around Hut 2.
Thinking back, I should have wrapped the part from the Bombe in one of his shirts before hiding it, that would have been a clever move. I really do make a terrible spy.
“Hooper, I’ll make a deal with you. We both know what happened in that hut this afternoon. I know because I did it, and you know because you know you didn’t. But once this is done I’ll be rich, and I’ll split that with you. I’ll let you have the results, too. Your name on the discovery of the Bombe. And it won’t hurt the war effort - you know as well as me that the component on its own is worthless, it’s the wiring of the Bombe, the usage, that’s what’s valuable. So how about it?”
Hooper looks back at me, appalled. “You’re asking me to commit treason?”
I suppose I do not believe they will hang me. They will lock me up and continue to use my brain, if they can. I wonder what they will tell the world - perhaps that I have taken my own life. That would be simplest. The few who know me would believe it.
Well, then. Not a bad existence, in prison. Removed from temptation. A kind of imposed monasticism, with plenty more problems to solve, and more mysteries to fathom.
I wonder what else I might yet unravel before I’m done?
“I don’t know.”
“You can do better than that. Remember, there’s a hangman’s noose waiting for traitors.”
I pause a moment, trying to choose my words. To just come out and say it, after a lifetime of hiding... I wouldn’t know how. To put it into words, bluntly and directly: that is a circle I cannot square.
“I’ve done things,” I begin, uncomfortably. “I didn’t want to. I tried not to. But in the end, you understand. I had to. It felt like cutting off my own arm not to. Things I know I shouldn’t have. Things I perhaps regret.”
“I see,” Harris answers. “You’ve left yourself open. To pressure. Is that what you’re saying?”
“I don’t see why,” I reply, sipping at my tea as if we were the best of friends.
His gaze is unexpressive: I’ve seen Harris broad and full of laughter, but today he is rigid, as much part of the military machine as the devices in Hut 5.
“I’m sorry to pull you up so roughly,” he says. “But you know why you’re here, of course.”
“No, I don’t. I’ve got work I should be doing tomorrow, and I need my rest...”
“Work that will be difficult for you to do, don’t you think?” Harris replies.
“They’ll have made a replacement by tomorrow,” I reply. “The war doesn’t stop over one missing reel.”
The reel went missing from the Bombe this afternoon. The four of us were in the Hut at the time, working on the latest intercept. It was Russell who noticed the machine producing strange results and found the gap in its plugboard. But as to who took it - it could have been any of us.
And indeed, it must have been. The machine had been functioning as normal when we began our calculations. And then, a short few hours later, it was gone. We had to stop. There was nothing more we could do until it was replaced. The part was vital, just as the machine was vital, and so were the contents of the message, still unread twenty four hours later.
“Let’s get straight to the point. Do you have the component?” Harris demands. “Do you know where it is?”
“I’m looking forward to a long bath,” I reply. “And getting back to work.”
“Well, I’m afraid it is going to get worse for you,” Harris replies soberly. “We followed Hooper, and he took himself neatly to bed and slept like a boy scout. Which puts us back to square one, and you firmly in the frame. And I’m afraid I don’t have time for any more games. I want you to tell me where that component is, or we will hang you as a traitor.”
He passes a hand across his eyes with a long look of despair.
“I’m going to go outside and organise a rope. That’ll take about twelve minutes. That’s how long you have to decide.”
Better to live on the run than die on the spit. Creeping around the edge of the compound, the Bombe component heavy in my pocket, I make my way to the front gate. As always, it’s manned by two guards, but I slip past their box by crawling on my belly.
And then I’m on the road. Walking, not running. Silent. Free.
For the moment, at least.
I wait a few minutes, to be sure Hooper and the Captain will have gone, then try the door. It’s locked, all right. I’m not really one for picking locks. Never tried it. I don’t think I’ll be getting out that way.
“He’s petty enough, certainly. He’s a creep.” I wipe a hand across my forehead. “All I can say is, ever since I arrived here, he’s been looking to ways to bring me down a peg. I wouldn’t be surprised if he set this whole affair up just to have me court-martialled.”
“We don’t court-martial civilians,” Harris replies. “Traitors are simply hung at her Majesty’s pleasure.”
The bunk has a solid metal frame, a blanket, a pillow, nothing more.
“Yes. I didn’t have long, but I had long enough. The missing component of the Bombe computer is hidden in a small cavity in a breeze-block supporting the left rear post of Hut 2. I put in there anticipating a search. I intended to pass it to Hooper once the fuss had died down. I suppose I was foolish to think that it might.”
“Indeed you were. And, Mr Manning: God help you if you’re lying to me.”
Harris stands, and slips away smartly. Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
“I am what I am,” I reply. “I’m the way nature made me. But they’re going to hang me unless you help me, Hooper. Don’t let them hang me.”
“Assuming I wanted to help you,” he replies, carefully. “Which I don’t. What would I do?”
“Nothing. Almost nothing.
All you have to do is go to the back of Hut 2. There’s a breeze-block with a cavity. That’s where I’ve put it. I’ll be locked up overnight, I should think. But you can pick it up and pass it to my contact. He’ll be at the south fence around two AM."
“If you think I’ll do that then you’re crazy,” Hooper replies.
At that moment the door flies open and the Captain comes storming back inside.
Harris hustles me over to the barracks. “I hope that’s the end of it,” he mutters as he pushes me up the steps.
“Just be sure to let him out,” I reply. “And then see where he goes.”
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
“I did.”
I have become, somehow, an accustomed liar - the words roll easily off my tongue. Perhaps I am a traitor, I think, now that I dissemble as easily as one.
“Go on,” Harris says, giving me no indication of whether he believes my tale.
There is nothing I can do to speed up time. The night draws on at its own pace. I suppose by morning I will know my fate.
“I don’t need twelve minutes. Here it is.”
I open my jacket and pull the Bombe component out of my pocket. Harris takes it from me, whistling, curious.
“Well, I’ll be. That’s it all right.”
“That’s it.”
“But you didn’t have it on you yesterday.”
“Only that this process is unreasonable, and I believe you’re behaving like a swine.”
“You imbecile,” Harris replies, with sudden force. He is half out of his chair. “You know the situation as well as I do, so why all this fencing? The Hun are poised like rats, ready to run all over this country. They’ll destroy everything, you do understand that, don’t you? You’re not so locked up inside your crossword puzzles that you don’t see that, are you? And this machine we have here - you men - you are the best and only hope this country has. God help her.”
I sit back, startled by the force of his outburst. His carefully sculpted expression has curled to angry disgust and there is spit flecking his lips. He really does hate me, I think. He’ll have my neck just for the taste of it.
The bucket? Hardly. The bucket might do some good if I wanted to sweep up the glass afterwards, but it won’t help me smash the glass quietly.
Work carefully? It’s difficult to work carefully when all one’s has is a bucket. It’s rather like the sledgehammer for the proverbial nut.
“Right now, I think you take that role, Harris,” I reply coolly.
“Very droll,” he replies. “Let me tell you what happened this morning, and see if it takes the smile off your face. Our men watching Hooper’s tent saw Hooper wake up, get dressed, clamber out of his tent and then remark with surprise as, while looking for his shoes, he stumbled on something just at the entrance of his tent.”
I go over to the window and try to jimmy it open. Not much luck, but in my struggling I notice this window only backs on the thin little brook that runs down the back of the compound. Which means, if I smashed it, I might get away with no-one seeing.
From outside, I hear a voice. Hooper’s. He’s haranguing someone, for something.
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
“I’m looking forward to having a wash and a change of clothes; which should make a little less evil to be around.”
“Very droll,” he replies. “Let me tell you what happened this morning, and see if it takes the smile off your face. Our men watching Hooper’s tent saw Hooper wake up, get dressed, clamber out of his tent and then remark with surprise as, while looking for his shoes, he stumbled on something just at the entrance of his tent.”
I cast around the small room. There’s a bucket in one corner for emergencies - I suppose I could use that. I pick it up but it’s not very easy to heft. And the noise would be terrible. There must be a way of making this easier. I’m supposed to be a thief now. What would a burglar do?
“No. Not for more than a moment, of course. Everyone here is marked out by how little we would be willing to say about it.”
“Only you told this young man more than a little, didn’t you?”
I nod. “He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
“All right. I’ll tell you what happened.” And never mind my shame, I think.
“I can imagine how it starts,” he growls.
“There was a young man, Harris. I met him in the town. A few months ago now. We got to talking - not about work, you understand. I said I was an accountant for a firm, just as I was supposed to. Although he seemed to know that wasn’t true. That got me wondering if he wasn’t one of us.”
Harris is not letting me off any more. “You seriously considered that possibility?”
“Heard what?”
“Hooper’s been taken away. They caught him, uncovering that missing Bombe component from a hiding place somewhere, apparently about to take it to his contact.” Russell harrumphs. “Quince was saying this morning, apparently his grandfather was German. So perhaps it’s to be expected. See you there?”
I wave to him and move away, my thoughts turning to the young man in the village. My lover. My contact. My blackmailer. Hooper may have taken the fall for the missing component, but if it was his recovering it from Hut 2 then I have nothing to sell to save my reputation, if I have any left.
If he didn’t, of course, and Harris was telling the truth about his sudden confession, then I will be able to buy my freedom once and for all.
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
I wait a few minutes, to be sure the Commander will have gone, then try the door. It’s locked, all right. I’m not really one for picking locks. Never tried it. I don’t think I’ll be getting out that way.
From outside, I hear a voice. Hooper’s. He’s haranguing someone, for something.
“Damn right I’m sore. Was it one of the others who put you up to this? Was it Hooper? He’s always been jealous of me. He’s...”
The Commander moustache bristles as he purses his lips. “Has he now? Of your achievements, do you think?” It’s difficult not to shake the sense that he’s humouring me.
“Or of your brain? Or something else?”
I put my ear down to the keyhole, but there’s nothing now. Probably still a guard outside, of course, but they’re keeping mum.
“That’s exactly it,” I say quietly. “Harris. You understand. There are some things... which can get a man into a lot of trouble. Things one shouldn’t do.”
Harris, to his credit, doesn’t stiffen. He doesn’t lean away, or remove his hands from the table-top as though my condition might be infectious. I thought they trained them in the army to shoot my kind on sight but he does not.
Of course, he does not offer any sympathy either. He only nods, once. The understanding that has passed between us here is a mere turning cog in his calculations, with no meaning or righteousness to it.
“I’ve seen the same story a hundred times before,” he says. “A young man like yourself - clever, somewhat removed from the world. The kind that doesn’t go to parties, you might say. Who takes himself a little too seriously, perhaps. Takes things too far. Further than a man should allow a thing to go. That’s the story, isn’t it? You took things too far, and then you couldn’t take them back. And now they have you.”
“No. It’s not treason. It’s a trade, plain and simple.”
“If you think I’ll do that then you’re crazy,” Hooper replies.
At that moment the door flies open and the Captain comes storming back inside.
Harris hustles me over to the barracks. “I hope that’s the end of it,” he mutters as he pushes me up the steps.
“Just be sure to let him out,” I reply. “And then see where he goes.”
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
“We’re still in ear-shot if they let Hooper go. Best get us inside and then we can talk, if we must.”
“I’ve had enough of your voice for one day,” Harris replies grimly. He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. I can only hope that Hooper bites on my baited hook. If he thinks I’m mad and bitter enough to have framed him somehow, and arrogant enough to have taunted him with a clue to where the damning evidence is hidden... if he hates me enough, and is paranoid enough, then he might unravel my little riddle and go searching around Hut 2.
Thinking back, I should have wrapped the part from the Bombe in one of his shirts before hiding it, that would have been a clever move. I really do make a terrible spy.
“I don’t need twelve minutes. Here it is.”
I open my jacket and pull the Bombe component out of my pocket. Harris takes it from me, whistling, curious.
“Well, I’ll be. That’s it all right.”
“That’s it.”
“But you didn’t have it on you yesterday.”
It won’t take a moment to settle the matter. I can justify a walk past Hut 2 as part of my morning stroll. It will be obvious in a moment if the component is still there.
On my way across the paddocks, between the huts and the House, I catch sight of young Miss Lyon, arriving for work on her bicycle. She giggles as she sees me and waves.
“Only that this process is unreasonable, and I believe you’re behaving like a swine.”
“You imbecile,” Harris replies, with sudden force. He is half out of his chair. “You know the situation as well as I do, so why all this fencing? The Hun are poised like rats, ready to run all over this country. They’ll destroy everything, you do understand that, don’t you? You’re not so locked up inside your crossword puzzles that you don’t see that, are you? And this machine we have here - you men - you are the best and only hope this country has. God help her.”
I sit back, startled by the force of his outburst. His carefully sculpted expression has curled to angry disgust and there is spit flecking his lips. He really does hate me, I think. He’ll have my neck just for the taste of it.
I put my ear to the keyhole but can make out nothing. Are there still guards posted? Perhaps, if Hooper has managed to incriminate himself, the guards have been removed?
Perhaps the door is unlocked and they left me to sleep? I try the handle. No such luck.
The night draws on at its own pace. I suppose by morning I will know my fate.
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
“All right. I’ll tell you what happened.” And never mind my shame, I think.
“I can imagine how it starts,” he growls.
“There was a young man, Harris. I met him in the town. A few months ago now. We got to talking - not about work, you understand. I said I was an accountant for a firm, just as I was supposed to. Although he seemed to know that wasn’t true. That got me wondering if he wasn’t one of us.”
Harris is not letting me off any more. “You seriously considered that possibility?”
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
“Yes, I considered it. He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
If I leave the component here somewhere it should be somewhere I can rely on Hooper finding it, but no-one before Hooper. In particular.
“Well?”
“We’ll be outside the door,” Harris replies, seriously. “The first sign of any funny business and we’ll have you both on the floor in minutes. You understand? The country needs your brain, but it’s not too worried about your legs. Remember that.”
Then he gets to his feet, and opens the door, and marches me out and across the yard. The evening is drawing in and there’s a chill in the air. My mind is racing. I have one opportunity here - a moment in which to put the fear of God into Hooper and make him do something foolish to place himself in harm’s way. But how to achieve it?
“You ready?” Harris demands.
“No. I have no idea.”
“Come now,” Harris says, quite the reasonable gent. “I think you can be a little more forthcoming.”
Let me see. There’s the bunk, a bucket, nothing else. I have my jacket but nothing in the pockets - no handkerchief, for instance.
“I don’t think Hooper could have planned this in advance. So he’d need to get word to whoever he’s working with, and that would take time. So I think he would have hidden it somewhere, and be waiting to make sure I soundly take the fall. That way, if anything goes wrong, he can arrange for the part to be conveniently re-found.”
“Makes sense,” Harris agrees, cautiously. I can see he’s still not entirely convinced by my tale, as well he might not be - I’ve hardly been entirely straight with him. “Which means the question is, what can we do to rat him out?”
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
“I can’t remember.”
He draws his gun and lays it lightly on the field table.
“I’m sorry to threaten you, friend. But His Majesty needs that brain of yours, and that brain alone. There are plenty of other parts to you that our country could do better without. Now I’ll ask you again. Did you hide the component?”
“Yes. Something like that. It’s a very lonely life otherwise. And the work we do - well. It only makes it worse. There’s barely a moment to oneself.”
“That’s how it is in the Service,” Harris answers. “I know you didn’t sign up for it but, well. There’s plenty of other men who didn’t who are serving now, too. Now, go on with your confession.”
That gives me pause, for a moment. I hadn’t thought of it as such. But I suppose that’s what this is. I am about to admit what I did, after all.
“There’s not much else to say. I took the part from Bombe computing device. You seem to know that already. I had to. He was going to expose me if I didn’t.”
“This young man was blackmailing you over your affair?”
“He’s petty enough, certainly. He’s a creep.” I wipe a hand across my forehead. “All I can say is, ever since I arrived here, he’s been looking to ways to bring me down a peg. I wouldn’t be surprised if he set this whole affair up just to have me court-martialled.”
“We don’t court-martial civilians,” Harris replies. “Traitors are simply hung at her Majesty’s pleasure.”
I put my ear to the keyhole but can make out nothing. Are there still guards posted? Perhaps the component has been found and the crisis is over.
Perhaps the door is unlocked and they left me to sleep? I try the handle. No such luck.
The night draws on at its own pace. I suppose by morning I will know my fate.
I wait a few minutes, to be sure the Commander will have gone, then try the door. It’s locked, all right. I’m not really one for picking locks. Never tried it. I don’t think I’ll be getting out that way.
From outside, I hear a voice. Hooper’s. He’s haranguing someone, for something.
I wait a few minutes, to be sure Hooper and the Captain will have gone, then try the door. It’s locked, all right. I’m not really one for picking locks. Never tried it. I don’t think I’ll be getting out that way.
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
“Messy, without one missing cache!” I cry, laughing spitefully. It isn’t the best clue, hardly worthy of the Times, but it will have to do.
I only catch Hooper’s reaction for a moment - his eyebrow lifts in surprise and alarm. Good. If he thinks it is a threat then he just might be careless enough to go looking for what it might mean.
The Captain comes outside, pulling the door to. “What’s this?” he asks. “A confession? Just like that?”
“No,” the Commander admits, in a low voice. “I’m afraid not. Rather more a scheme. The idea is to let Hooper go and see what he does. If he believes we have Manning here in irons, he’ll try to shift the component.”
“If he has it.”
“Indeed.”
The Captain peers at me for a moment, like I was some kind of curious insect.
“Sometimes, I think you people are magicians,” he remarks. “Other times you seem more like witches. Very well.”
With that he opens the door to the Hut and goes back inside. The Commander uses the moment to hustle me roughly forward.
“And what was all that shouting about?” he hisses in my ear as we move towards the barracks. “Are you trying to pull something? Or just make me look incompetent?”
The bunk has a solid metal frame, a blanket, a pillow, nothing more.
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
“I’m no traitor,” I answer smartly.
He stares back at me. “Let’s get straight to the point. Do you have the component?” Harris demands. “Do you know where it is?”
I say quiet, listening, not sure how this will go.
“In case I’m not making myself clear,” Harris continues, “I mean, he managed to find it, by accident, somewhere where it wasn’t the night before. And at the same time, you’re sitting here with your window broken. So, I rather think you’ve played your last hand and lost. There’s no way Hooper stole that component and then just left it lying around in the doorway of his tent. No way at all. So I came to tell you that the game is up for you.”
He nods and gets to his feet. Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
I let him have his rant. He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
“Just adding to the drama,” I tell him, confidently. “I’m sure you can understand that.”
“I think we’ve had enough drama today already,” Harris replies. “Let’s hope for a clean kill.”
He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
“I’m no traitor, damn it. You know I’m not. How much work have I done here? Against the Germans? Cracking their codes? Understanding their secrets? I’ve given it my all! And you know as well as I do, if the Reich were to invade, I would be a dead man for being what I am. So please, Hooper. I’m not doing any of this lightly. But I’m in a jam!”
“Assuming I wanted to help you,” he replies, carefully. “Which I don’t. What would I do?”
“Nothing. Almost nothing.
All you have to do is go to the back of Hut 2. There’s a breeze-block with a cavity. That’s where I’ve put it. I’ll be locked up overnight, I should think. But you can pick it up and pass it to my contact. He’ll be at the south fence around two AM."
“If you think I’ll do that then you’re crazy,” Hooper replies.
At that moment the door flies open and the Captain comes storming back inside.
Harris hustles me over to the barracks. “I hope that’s the end of it,” he mutters as he pushes me up the steps.
“Just be sure to let him out,” I reply. “And then see where he goes.”
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
Let me see. There’s the bunk, a bucket, nothing else. I have my jacket but nothing in the pockets - no handkerchief, for instance.
“The component?”
“Yes,” Harris replies levelly. “The component that went missing this afternoon. I doubt that you’ve forgotten.”
He’s talking about the missing reel from the Bombe. Russell discovered it this afternoon when the machine began producing strange results. We were all in the Hut when it happened and it had been in place when we sat down to work. The conclusions had been obvious to all four of us immediately, but had gone undiscussed, even after the empty socket was located, the wiring torn on either side.
“Lucky these things are easy to replace,” Russell had remarked, and that had been that. We had stopped work, sent out for a new part to be machined. And drunk our tea and watched each other.
“Come now,” Harris says, quite the reasonable gent. “As I told you. We’re not interviewing everyone. Only you. So. I think you can be a little more forthcoming.”
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
“So would you after the night I’ve had.”
“Well, I’m afraid it is going to get worse for you,” Harris replies soberly. “We followed Hooper, and he took himself neatly to bed and slept like a boy scout. Which puts us back to square one, and you firmly in the frame. And I’m afraid I don’t have time for any more games. I want you to tell me where that component is, or we will hang you as a traitor.”
He passes a hand across his eyes with a long look of despair.
“I’m going to go outside and organise a rope. That’ll take about twelve minutes. That’s how long you have to decide.”
“For God’s sake, man, what do you have to lose?”
“We’ll be outside the door,” Harris replies, seriously. “The first sign of any funny business and we’ll have you both on the floor in minutes. You understand? The country needs your brain, but it’s not too worried about your legs. Remember that.”
Then he gets to his feet, and opens the door, and marches me out and across the yard. The evening is drawing in and there’s a chill in the air. My mind is racing. I have one opportunity here - a moment in which to put the fear of God into Hooper and make him do something foolish to place himself in harm’s way. But how to achieve it?
“You ready?” Harris demands.
The blanket. Perfect. I scoop it up off the bed and hold it in place over the window. This should do it. Then I heft back my arm, and take a strong swing, trying to imagine it’s Harris’ face on the other side.
The sound of the impact is muffled. With my arm still covered, I sweep out the remaining glass in the frame. I’m ready to escape. The only trouble is - when they look in on me in the morning, there will be no question what has happened. It won’t help me one jot with shifting suspicion off my back.
“We’re still in ear-shot if they let Hooper go. Best get us inside and then we can talk, if we must.”
“I’ve had enough of your voice for one day,” Harris replies grimly. He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
I toss the component away into the bushes behind Hooper’s tent and return to my barrack, wishing myself a long sleep followed by a morning, free of this business.
Satisfied, I return the short way up the paths between the huts to the barrack block and the broken window.
It’s a little harder getting back through - the window is higher off the ground than the floor inside - but after a decent bit of jumping and hauling I manage to get my elbows up, and then one leg, and finally I collapse inside, quite winded and out breath.
“No, Harris. I don’t think you can understand.”
“Go on with your confession,” he replies. That gives me pause, for a moment. I hadn’t thought of it as such. But I suppose that’s what this is. I am about to admit what I did, after all.
“There’s not much else to say. I took the part from Bombe computing device. You seem to know that already. I had to. He was going to expose me if I didn’t.”
“This young man was blackmailing you over your affair?”
As Harris speaks I find myself suddenly sharply aware, as if waking from a long sleep. The table, the corrugated walls of the hut, everything seems suddenly more tangible than a moment before. Perhaps whatever it was they put in my drink is wearing off?
“Yes, I considered it. He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
“Maybe I can help with that.”
“Oh, yes? And how, exactly?”
I nod. “I don’t need twelve minutes. The missing component of the Bombe computer is hidden in a small cavity in a breeze-block supporting the left rear post of Hut 2. I put in there anticipating a search. I intended to dispose of it once the fuss had died down. I suppose I was foolish to think that it might.”
“Indeed you were. And, Mr Manning: God help you if you’re lying to me.”
Harris stands, and slips away smartly. Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
I go over to the window and try to jimmy it open. Not much luck, but in my struggling I notice this window only backs on the thin little brook that runs down the back of the compound. Which means, if I smashed it, I might get away with no-one seeing.
From outside, I hear a voice. Hooper’s. He’s haranguing someone, for something.
“Just adding to the drama,” I tell him, confidently. “I’m sure you can understand that.”
“I think we’ve had enough drama today already,” Harris replies. “Let’s hope for a clean kill.”
He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
“I spoke to Russell. He said he saw Hooper doing something round here. I wanted to see what it was.”
“Enough.” Harris gestures for me to start walking. “This story couldn’t be simpler. You took it to cover your back. You hid it. You lied to get Hooper into trouble, and when you thought you’d won, you came to scoop your prize. A good hand but ultimately, if it hadn’t have been you who hid the component, then you wouldn’t be here now.”
He leads me across the yard. Back towards Hut 5 to be decoded, and taken to pieces, once again.
“This proves nothing,” I reply stubbornly. “You still don’t have the component and without it, I don’t see what you can hope to prove.”
“Be quiet, man. We know all about your and your sordid affairs.” The Captain curls his lip. “Don’t you know there’s a war on? Do you know the kind of place they would have sent you if it haven’t had been for that brain of yours? Don’t you think you owe it to your country to use it a little more?”
Do I, I wonder? Do I owe this country anything, this country that has spurned who and what am I since the day I became a man?
Morning comes. I’m woken by a rooster calling from the yard behind the House. I must have slept after all. I pull myself up from the bunk, shivering slightly. There is condensation on the inside of the window. I have probably given myself a chill.
The door handle turns and without knocking, Harris comes inside. “You’re up,” he remarks, and then, “You smell like an animal.”
“No. I have no idea.”
He’s talking about the missing reel from the Bombe. Russell discovered it this afternoon when the machine began producing strange results. We were all in the Hut when it happened and it had been in place when we sat down to work. The conclusions had been obvious to all four of us immediately, but had gone undiscussed, even after the empty socket was located, the wiring torn on either side.
“Lucky these things are easy to replace,” Russell had remarked, and that had been that. We had stopped work, sent out for a new part to be machined. And drunk our tea and watched each other.
“Come now,” Harris says, quite the reasonable gent. “As I told you. We’re not interviewing everyone. Only you. So. I think you can be a little more forthcoming.”
I pause for a moment longer. It doesn’t do to be too careless...
Then the door locks turns. The door opens. Then Jeremy - one of the guards, rather - sticks his head through the door. “I thought I heard...”
He stops. Looks for a moment. Sees the bucket in my hand. Then without a moment’s further thought he blows his shrill whistles and hustles into the hut, grabbing me roughly by my arms.
I’ll never know if I hadn’t have waited that extra moment - maybe I still could have got away. But, how far?
I’m hustled into one of the huts. Nowhere to sleep, but they’re not interested in my comfort any longer. Harris comes in with the Captain.
“So,” Harris remarks. “Looks like your little trap worked. Only it worked to show you out for what you are.”
“I don’t know what gives you the right to pick on me. Shouldn’t I have a lawyer?”
“This is time of war,” Harris answers. His tone of voice has fallen down into darkness. “And by God, if I have to shoot you to recover the component or stop it falling into the wrong hands, I will, do you understand me?”
There’s an icy silence. He’s angry. He waves an impetuous hand across the field table.
“Now, drink your tea and talk.”
It’s no good. Nothing I can do will be any less than obvious - something appearing where something was not there before. The men watching Hooper will know it is a deception and Hooper’s protestations will be taken at face value.
If I can’t find a way for Hooper to pick the component up, as if from a hiding place of his own devising, and be caught doing it, then I have no plan at all.
“For God’s sake, man, what do you have to lose?”
“We’ll be outside the door,” Harris replies, seriously. “The first sign of any funny business and we’ll have you both on the floor in minutes. You understand? The country needs your brain, but it’s not too worried about your legs. Remember that.”
Then he gets to his feet, and opens the door, and marches me out and across the yard. The evening is drawing in and there’s a chill in the air. My mind is racing. I have one opportunity here - a moment in which to put the fear of God into Hooper and make him do something foolish to place himself in harm’s way. But how to achieve it?
“You ready?” Harris demands.
I put my ear down to the keyhole, but there’s nothing now. Probably still a guard outside, of course, but they’re keeping mum.
“Ask the others,” I reply, leaning back. “They’ll tell you. If they haven’t already, that’s only because they’re protecting Hooper. Hoping he’ll come to his senses and stop being an idiot. I hope he does too. And if you lock him up in a freezing hut like you’ve done me, I’m sure he will.”
“We have,” Harris replies simply.
It’s all I can do not to gape.
“Hooper’s in Hut 3 with the Captain, having a similar conversation.”
I put my ear to the keyhole but can make out nothing. Are there still guards posted? Perhaps, if Hooper has managed to incriminate himself, the guards have been removed?
Perhaps the door is unlocked and they left me to sleep? I try the handle. No such luck.
The night draws on at its own pace. I suppose by morning I will know my fate.
“Or be thrown into the river.”
“Hmm.” Harris chews his moustache thoughtfully. “Well, that would put us in a spot, seeing as how we’d never know for certain. We’d have to be ready to change our whole approach just in case the part had got through to the Germans. I don’t mind telling you, this is a disaster, this whole thing. What I want is to find that little bit of mechanical trickery anywhere. I don’t care where. In your luncheon box or under Hooper’s pillow, whatever. Just somewhere, and within the grounds of this place.”
“Well, then,” I answer, nervously. “What would he do? Either get rid of it straight away - or if that wasn’t possible, which it probably wouldn’t be, since he’d have to arrange things with his contacts - so most likely, he’d hide it somewhere and wait, until you had the rope around my neck and he could be sure he was safe.”
“Makes sense,” Harris agrees, cautiously. I can see he’s still not certain whether he can trust me. “Which means the question is, what can we do to rat him out?”
“I’d be happy to help,” I answer, sympathetically, leaning forward across the table. “I’m sure there’s something I could do.”
“Like what, exactly?”
Morning comes slowly, but I must fall asleep at some point, because the next thing I know the rooster is calling and a cool, fresh breeze is blowing through the open window. I barely have time to wipe the sleep from my eyes and brush myself down before the door opens and Harris enters.
He takes one look around, and sighs, a deep, wistful sigh.
“Things just get worse and worse for you, Manning,” he remarks. “You are your own worst enemy.”
There’s no time to lose. Throwing caution to the wind I make my way quickly to Hut 2, and around the back. I don’t think I’ve been followed, or seen but if I have, it’s too late. My actions are suspicious enough for anyone’s noose. I have no choice but to follow through.
The component is still there, wrapped in a tea-towel and shoved into a cavity in a breeze-block at the base of the Hut wall.
I go over to the window and try to jimmy it open. Not much luck, but in my struggling I notice this window only backs on the thin little brook that runs down the back of the compound. Which means, if I smashed it, I might get away with no-one seeing.
“I’ll talk to him.”
“What?”
“Put me in with Hooper. Maybe I can get something useful out of him. As his colleague.”
Harris shakes his head. “He despises you, doesn’t he? I don’t see why he’d give himself up to you.”
“This proves nothing,” I reply stubbornly. “You still don’t have the component and without it, I don’t see what you can hope to prove.”
“Be quiet, man. We know all about your and your sordid affairs.” The Captain curls his lip. “Don’t you know there’s a war on? Do you know the kind of place they would have sent you if it haven’t had been for that brain of yours? Don’t you think you owe it to your country to use it a little more?”
Do I, I wonder? Do I owe this country anything, this country that has spurned who and what am I since the day I became a man?
I go over to the window and try to jimmy it open. Not much luck, but in my struggling I notice this window only backs on the thin little brook that runs down the back of the compound. Which means, if I smashed it, I might get away with no-one seeing.
From outside, I hear a voice. Hooper’s. He’s haranguing someone, for something.
“Of course I do,” I answer.
The reel went missing from the Bombe this afternoon. The four of us were in the Hut at the time, working on the latest intercept. It was Russell who noticed the machine producing strange results and found the gap in its plugboard. But as to who took it - it could have been any of us.
And indeed, it must have been. The machine had been functioning as normal when we began our calculations. And then, a short few hours later, it was gone. We had to stop. There was nothing more we could do until it was replaced. The part was vital, just as the machine was vital, and so were the contents of the message, still unread twenty four hours later.
“Let’s get straight to the point. Do you have the component?” Harris demands. “Do you know where it is?”
“Look, I know where it is. The missing piece of the Bombe is in the long grasses behind Hooper’s tent. I saw him throw it there right after we finished work. He knew you’d scour the camp but I suppose he thought you’d more obvious places first. I suppose he was right about that. Look there. That proves his guilt.”
“That doesn’t prove anything,” Harris returns sharply. “But we’ll check what you say, all the same.” He gets to his feet and heads out of the door.
Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
“I’m looking forward to having a wash and a change of clothes; which should make a little less evil to be around.”
“Very droll,” he replies. “Let me tell you what happened this morning, and see if it takes the smile off your face. Our men watching Hooper’s tent saw Hooper wake up, get dressed, clamber out of his tent and then remark with surprise as, while looking for his shoes, he stumbled on something just at the entrance of his tent.”
The bunk has a solid metal frame, a blanket, a pillow, nothing more.
No, I am content. I suppose I do not believe they will hang me. They will lock me up and continue to use my brain, if they can. I wonder what they will tell the world - perhaps that I have taken my own life. That would be simplest. The few who know me would believe it.
Well, then. Not a bad existence, in prison. Removed from temptation. A kind of imposed monasticism, with plenty more problems to solve, and more mysteries to fathom.
I wonder what else I might yet unravel before I’m done?
“Yes.”
Harris stares back at me.
“I see.” There’s a long pause, like the endless delay between feeding in a line of cypher to the Bombe and waiting for its valves and cylinders to heat up enough to being processing. “Would you like to explain?”
“I’m no traitor, damn it. You know I’m not. How much work have I done here? Against the Germans? Cracking their codes? Understanding their secrets? I’ve given it my all! And you know as well as I do, if the Reich were to invade, I would be a dead man for being what I am. So please, Hooper. I’m not doing any of this lightly. But I’m in a jam!”
“Assuming I wanted to help you,” he replies, carefully. “Which I don’t. What would I do?”
“Nothing. Almost nothing.
All you have to do is go to the back of Hut 2. There’s a breeze-block with a cavity. That’s where I’ve put it. I’ll be locked up overnight, I should think. But you can pick it up and pass it to my contact. He’ll be at the south fence around two AM."
“If you think I’ll do that then you’re crazy,” Hooper replies.
At that moment the door flies open and the Captain comes storming back inside.
Harris hustles me over to the barracks. “I hope that’s the end of it,” he mutters as he pushes me up the steps.
“Just be sure to let him out,” I reply. “And then see where he goes.”
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
“If I wanted to escape, I would have made damn sure that I could,” I tell him sternly.
“Well, I’m afraid it is going to get worse for you,” Harris replies soberly. “We followed Hooper, and he took himself neatly to bed and slept like a boy scout. Which puts us back to square one, and you firmly in the frame. And I’m afraid I don’t have time for any more games. I want you to tell me where that component is, or we will hang you as a traitor.”
He passes a hand across his eyes with a long look of despair.
“I’m going to go outside and organise a rope. That’ll take about twelve minutes. That’s how long you have to decide.”
I have a single moment to shout something to Hooper before the door closes.
“I’ll get you Hooper, you’ll see!” I cry. Then:
Enough of this place. Time for me to get moving. I can get to the train station on foot, catch the postal train to Scotland and be somewhere else before anyone realises that I’m gone.
Of course, then they’ll be looking for me in earnest. As a confirmed traitor.
“You’re right.” I shake my head. “You’re right. I don’t see how I can help you after all. So, there’s only one conclusion.”
“Oh, yes? And what’s that?”
“It’s your problem. Your security breach. So much for your careful vetting process.” I lean back in my chair and fold my arms so the way they shake will not be visible. “You’d better get on with solving it, instead of wasting your time in here with me.”
Harris harrumphs. He’s thinking it all over.
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
“I was quite certain, after a while. After we’d been talking. He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
I hang back a moment. Something does not seem quite right. After all, Hooper did not steal the component. He has no reason to confess to anything. Perhaps this is another trap?
“Well?” Harris asks. “What are you waiting for? Please don’t tell me you want to confess now as well, I don’t think my head could stand it.”
Making a wide circuit I creep around the tent. It has plenty of other flaps and openings, tied down with Gordian complexity. But nothing afford itself to slipping the component inside.
The bucket? Hardly. The bucket might do some good if I wanted to sweep up the glass afterwards, but it won’t help me smash the glass quietly.
“Hooper, I’ll make a deal with you. We both know what happened in that hut this afternoon. I know because I did it, and you know because you know you didn’t. But once this is done I’ll be rich, and I’ll split that with you. I’ll let you have the results, too. Your name on the discovery of the Bombe. And it won’t hurt the war effort - you know as well as me that the component on its own is worthless, it’s the wiring of the Bombe, the usage, that’s what’s valuable. So how about it?”
Hooper looks back at me, appalled. “You’re asking me to commit treason?”
“All right.” I am beaten, after all. “The missing component of the Bombe computer is hidden in a small cavity in a breeze-block supporting the left rear post of Hut 2. I put in there anticipating a search. I intended to dispose of it once the fuss had died down. I suppose I was foolish to think that it might.”
“Indeed you were. And, Mr Manning: God help you if you’re lying to me.”
Harris stands, and slips away smartly. The Commander holds the door for his superior, and follows him out. Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
“Absolutely.”
Harris opens the door and pushes me inside. “Captain,” he calls. “Could I have a moment?”
The Captain, looking puzzled, steps out. The door is closed. Hooper stares at me, open-mouthed, about to say something. I probably have less than a minute before the Captain storms back in and declares this plan to be bunkum.
“No, Harris. The young man wasn’t blackmailing me.” I take a deep breath. “It was Hooper.”
“Hooper!” Harris exclaims, in surprise.
“It’s the truth, Harris. If I’m going to jail, then so be it, but I won’t hang at Traitor’s Gate. Hooper was the one who told the boy about our work. Hooper put the boy on to me. And then, once he had me compromised, he demanded I steal the part from the machine.”
“Which you did.” Harris leans forward. “And then what? You still have it? You put it somewhere?”
“We’re still in ear-shot if they let Hooper go. Best get us inside and then we can talk, if we must.”
“I’ve had enough of your voice for one day,” Harris replies grimly. He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. I can only hope that Hooper bites on my baited hook. If he thinks I’m mad and bitter enough to have framed him somehow, and arrogant enough to have taunted him with a clue to where the damning evidence is hidden... if he hates me enough, and is paranoid enough, then he might unravel my little riddle and go searching around Hut 2.
Thinking back, I should have wrapped the part from the Bombe in one of his shirts before hiding it, that would have been a clever move. I really do make a terrible spy.
“All right. All right. That’s exactly what happened.”
“Shame,” he remarks. “I should have left that window open and put a guard on you. Might have been interesting to see where you went. Anyway, I’m glad you’re still here, even if you do smell like a dog.”
I slide the component into the tent, work the zip closed, and move quickly away into the shadows. It takes a few minutes for my breath to slow, and my heart to stop hammering, but I see no other movement. If anyone is watching Hooper’s tent, they are asleep at their posts.
Satisfied, I return the short way up the paths between the huts to the barrack block and the broken window.
It’s a little harder getting back through - the window is higher off the ground than the floor inside - but after a decent bit of jumping and hauling I manage to get my elbows up, and then one leg, and finally I collapse inside, quite winded and out breath.
I pause a moment, trying to choose my words. To just come out and say it, after a lifetime of hiding... I wouldn’t know how. To put it into words, bluntly and directly: that is a circle I cannot square.
“I’ve done things,” I begin, uncomfortably. “I didn’t want to. I tried not to. But in the end, you understand. I had to. It felt like cutting off my own arm not to. Things I know I shouldn’t have. Things I perhaps regret.”
“I see,” Harris answers. “You’ve left yourself open. To pressure. Is that what you’re saying?”
I slide the component into the tent, work the zip closed, and move quickly away into the shadows. It takes a few minutes for my breath to slow, and my heart to stop hammering, but I see no other movement. If anyone is watching Hooper’s tent, they are asleep at their posts.
Satisfied, I return the short way up the paths between the huts to the barrack block and the broken window.
It’s a little harder getting back through - the window is higher off the ground than the floor inside - but after a decent bit of jumping and hauling I manage to get my elbows up, and then one leg, and finally I collapse inside, quite winded and out breath.
“I was quite certain, after a while. After we’d been talking. He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
I have in my head to blame Hooper, but somehow I cannot find a way to tell the story. Whatever they put in my tea, it has control of my tongue. I find myself collapsing, desperate to tell him everything, almost weeping with the shame of it.
“There was a young man, Harris. I met him in the town. A few months ago now. We got to talking - not about work, you understand. I said I was an accountant for a firm, just as I was supposed to. Although he seemed to know that wasn’t true. That got me wondering if he wasn’t one of us.”
Harris is not letting me off any more. “You seriously considered that possibility?”
“It’s not that bad. I can still fix it.”
Harris shakes his head. “This isn’t a problem to be cracked. This isn’t a puzzle. I’m sorry, but this is bigger than you now. Look. You can go to prison for what you’ve done, or we can change your identity and move you somewhere where your... indiscretions... can’t hurt anyone any more. But right now none of that matters. What happens to you, doesn’t matter. All that matters is where that component is. So I’d like you to tell me, now. Where is it?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
The rest of the night passes slowly. I sleep a little, dozing mostly. Then I’m woken by the rooster in the yard. The door opens, and Harris comes in. He takes one look at the broken window and frowns with puzzlement.
“What happened there?”
“None of us are blameless, Harris. But you’re not my priest and I’m not yours. Now, please. Let me go. I’ll help you find this damn component, of course I will.”
He appears to consider the offer.
“Tell me, then,” he asks. “What’s your theory? You’re a smart fellow - as smart as they come around here, and that’s saying something. What’s your opinion on the missing component? Accident, perhaps? Or do you blame one of the other men?”
“Someone threw this in through the window over night,” I reply, and open my jacket to reveal the component from the Bombe. “I couldn’t see who, it was too dark. But I know what it is.”
He reaches out and takes it. “Well, I’ll be damned,” he murmurs. “That’s it all right. And you didn’t have it on you when we put you in here. But it can’t have been Hooper - I had men watching him all night. And there’s no-one else it could have been.”
He turns the component over in his hands, bemused.
“Yes, I considered it. He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
“Very well then.” I swallow nervously, to make it look more genuine. “No. I passed it on to Hooper.”
“I see. And what did he do with it?”
“I can’t remember.”
He draws his gun and lays it lightly on the field table.
“I’m sorry to threaten you, friend. But His Majesty needs that brain of yours, and that brain alone. There are plenty of other parts to you that our country could do better without. Now I’ll ask you again. Did you hide the component?”
“At the moment when the machine halted, Peterson and Jefferies were by the work-table, Collins and Humph were out having a smoke. I was by the front of the machine checking over the dip-switches. Hooper was the only one around the back of the Bombe. No-one else could have done it.”
“That’s not quite the same as seeing him do it,” Harris remarks.
“I don’t know.”
“You can do better than that. Remember, there’s a hangman’s noose waiting for traitors.”
I look in through the door and catch Hooper’s expression. I had half expected him to be smiling be he isn’t. He looks shocked, almost hurt. “Iain,” he murmurs. “You couldn’t...”
The Captain comes outside, pulling the door to. “What’s this?” he asks. “A confession? Just like that?”
“No,” the Commander admits, in a low voice. “I’m afraid not. Rather more a scheme. The idea is to let Hooper go and see what he does. If he believes we have Manning here in irons, he’ll try to shift the component.”
“If he has it.”
“Indeed.”
The Captain peers at me for a moment, like I was some kind of curious insect.
“Sometimes, I think you people are magicians,” he remarks. “Other times you seem more like witches. Very well.”
With that he opens the door to the Hut and goes back inside. The Commander uses the moment to hustle me roughly forward.
“This scheme of yours had better come off,” he hisses in my ear. “Otherwise the Captain is going to start having men tailing me to see where I go on Saturdays.”
I shake my head violently, to say no, that’s not it, but whatever is wrong with tongue is wrong with neck too. I look across at the table at Harris’ face and realise with a start how sympathetic he is. Such a kind, generous man. How can I hold anything back from him?
I take another mouthful of the bitter, strange-tasting tea before answering.
“That’s exactly it,” I say quietly. “Harris. You understand. There are some things... which can get a man into a lot of trouble. Things one shouldn’t do.”
Harris, to his credit, doesn’t stiffen. He doesn’t lean away, or remove his hands from the table-top as though my condition might be infectious. I thought they trained them in the army to shoot my kind on sight but he does not.
Of course, he does not offer any sympathy either. He only nods, once. The understanding that has passed between us here is a mere turning cog in his calculations, with no meaning or righteousness to it.
“I’ve seen the same story a hundred times before,” he says. “A young man like yourself - clever, somewhat removed from the world. The kind that doesn’t go to parties, you might say. Who takes himself a little too seriously, perhaps. Takes things too far. Further than a man should allow a thing to go. That’s the story, isn’t it? You took things too far, and then you couldn’t take them back. And now they have you.”
I wait a few minutes, to be sure Hooper and the Captain will have gone, then try the door. It’s locked, all right. I’m not really one for picking locks. Never tried it. I don’t think I’ll be getting out that way.
I see. Perhaps you think I bullied the man into giving himself up. Perhaps he understood my little clue far enough to know it was a threat against him, but not well enough to understand where he should look to find it. So he took the easy route out and folded. Gave me the hand.
Hardly sporting, is that it?
I suppose this must be what it feels like to have a conscience, then. Very well.
“Harris, sir. I don’t know what Hooper’s playing at, sir. But I can’t let him do this.”
“Do what?”
“Take the rope for this. I took it, sir.
The missing component of the Bombe computer is hidden in a small cavity in a breeze-block supporting the left rear post of Hut 2. I put in there anticipating a search. I intended to dispose of it once the fuss had died down. I suppose I was foolish to think that it might."
“I thought as much. I hadn’t expected you to give it out so easily, however. You understand, Hooper has said nothing, of course. In fact, he went to Hut 2 directly after we released him and uncovered the component. But he told us you had instructed him where to go. Hence my little double bluff. Frankly, I’ll be glad when I’m shot of the lot of you mathematicians.”
Harris stands, and slips away smartly. Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
“No. I passed it on to Hooper.”
“I see. And what did he do with it?”
“Yes. I suppose he was their agent. I should have realised but I didn’t. Then he threatened to tell you. I thought you would have me locked up: I couldn’t bear the thought of it. I love working here. I’ve never been so happy, so successful, anywhere before. I didn’t want to lose it.”
“So what did you do with the component?” Harris talks urgently. He grips his gloves tightly in one hand, perhaps prepared to lift them and strike if it is required. “Have you passed it to this man already? Have you left it somewhere for him to find?”
“Damn right I’m sore. Was it one of the others who put you up to this? Was it Hooper? He’s always been jealous of me. He’s...”
The Commander moustache bristles as he purses his lips. “Has he now? Of your achievements, do you think?” It’s difficult not to shake the sense that he’s humouring me.
“Or of your brain? Or something else?”
“Yes. Something like that. It’s a very lonely life otherwise. And the work we do - well. It only makes it worse. There’s barely a moment to oneself.”
“That’s how it is in the Service,” Harris answers. “I know you didn’t sign up for it but, well. There’s plenty of other men who didn’t who are serving now, too. Now, go on with your confession.”
That gives me pause, for a moment. I hadn’t thought of it as such. But I suppose that’s what this is. I am about to admit what I did, after all.
“There’s not much else to say. I took the part from Bombe computing device. You seem to know that already. I had to. He was going to expose me if I didn’t.”
“This young man was blackmailing you over your affair?”
As Harris speaks I find myself suddenly sharply aware, as if waking from a long sleep. The table, the corrugated walls of the hut, everything seems suddenly more tangible than a moment before. Perhaps whatever it was they put in my drink is wearing off?
“And the other men? Do we have a hut each? Surely there aren’t enough senior officers to go round.”
“Collins and Humph were outside when the theft occurred. Everyone confirms that,” Harris replies. “That leaves you, Hooper, and the other two, who vouch for each other and frankly I’m inclined to believe them. But that’s all we know. No-one here is in the business of guessing, you know that. Our business is to decode. To get to the bottom of whatever’s going on. You’ve not placed yourself beyond suspicion and until you do so...” Harris shrugs. “I’m afraid I have fewer and fewer choices as time goes on. If that component has left these grounds then every minute is critical.”
I go over to the window and try to jimmy it open. Not much luck, but in my struggling I notice this window only backs on the thin little brook that runs down the back of the compound. Which means, if I smashed it, I might get away with no-one seeing.
“Ask not for whom the bell tolls!”
He stares back at me, as if were a madman and perhaps for a split second I see him shudder.
The Captain comes outside, pulling the door to. “What’s this?” he asks. “A confession? Just like that?”
“No,” the Commander admits, in a low voice. “I’m afraid not. Rather more a scheme. The idea is to let Hooper go and see what he does. If he believes we have Manning here in irons, he’ll try to shift the component.”
“If he has it.”
“Indeed.”
The Captain peers at me for a moment, like I was some kind of curious insect.
“Sometimes, I think you people are magicians,” he remarks. “Other times you seem more like witches. Very well.”
With that he opens the door to the Hut and goes back inside. The Commander uses the moment to hustle me roughly forward.
“And what was all that shouting about?” he hisses in my ear as we move towards the barracks. “Are you trying to pull something? Or just make me look incompetent?”
“No. Not for more than a moment, of course. Everyone here is marked out by how little we would be willing to say about it.”
“Only you told this young man more than a little, didn’t you?”
I nod. “He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
“Just adding to the drama,” I tell him, confidently. “I’m sure you can understand that.”
“I think we’ve had enough drama today already,” Harris replies. “Let’s hope for a clean kill.”
He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. I can only hope that Hooper bites on my baited hook. If he thinks I’m mad and bitter enough to have framed him somehow, and arrogant enough to have taunted him with a clue to where the damning evidence is hidden... if he hates me enough, and is paranoid enough, then he might unravel my little riddle and go searching around Hut 2.
Thinking back, I should have wrapped the part from the Bombe in one of his shirts before hiding it, that would have been a clever move. I really do make a terrible spy.
I creep forward to the tent, intent on lifting the zip to the front porch area just a little - enough to slip the component inside, and without the risk of the noise waking Hooper from his snoring.
The work is careful, and more than little fiddly - Hooper has tied the zips down on the inside, the fastidious little bastard! - but after a little work I manage to make a hole large enough for my hand.
“I was quite certain, after a while. After we’d been talking. He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
I look in through the door and catch Hooper’s expression. I had half expected him to be smiling be he isn’t. He looks shocked, almost hurt. “Iain,” he murmurs. “You couldn’t...”
The Captain comes outside, pulling the door to. “What’s this?” he asks. “A confession? Just like that?”
“No,” the Commander admits, in a low voice. “I’m afraid not. Rather more a scheme. The idea is to let Hooper go and see what he does. If he believes we have Manning here in irons, he’ll try to shift the component.”
“If he has it.”
“Indeed.”
The Captain peers at me for a moment, like I was some kind of curious insect.
“Sometimes, I think you people are magicians,” he remarks. “Other times you seem more like witches. Very well.”
With that he opens the door to the Hut and goes back inside. The Commander uses the moment to hustle me roughly forward.
“This scheme of yours had better come off,” he hisses in my ear. “Otherwise the Captain is going to start having men tailing me to see where I go on Saturdays.”
“No.”
“Too bad.” Harris opens the door and pushes me inside. “Captain,” he calls. “Could I have a moment?”
The Captain, looking puzzled, steps out. The door is closed. Hooper stares at me, open-mouthed, about to say something. I probably have less than a minute before the Captain storms back in and declares this plan to be bunkum.
The bucket? Hardly. The bucket might do some good if I wanted to sweep up the glass afterwards, but it won’t help me smash the glass quietly.
“An accident, naturally.” I risk a smile. “That damned machine, Harris; it’s made from spare parts and string. Even these huts leak when it rains. It wouldn’t take more than one fellow to trip over a cable to shake out a component and have it roll away across the floor. Have you tried looking under the thing?”
Harris doesn’t smile. “Do you suppose we haven’t? Do you supposed we haven’t combed every inch of this place already?”
In a sudden moment I understand that his reply is a threat.
“Now,” he continues. “Are you sure there isn’t anything you want to tell me?”
“Please, Hooper. You don’t understand what’s at stake. They have information on me. What I’ve done. I don’t need to tell you what I’ve done, you know. I know you do. And I know you think it’s wrong, but please man, have a soul. They were going to ruin me. And the component - it’s nothing. It’s not the secret of the Bombe, or even of what we’re doing here. It’s just a part. The German’s think it’s a weapon - a missile component or a detonator. Let them have it! Please, man. Just help me.”
“Help you?” Hooper stares, as I have gone mad. “Help you? You’re a traitor, Iain. You’re a traitor. A snake in the grass. And you’re queer.”
“I’m not trying to do anything except save my neck.”
“Let’s hope things work out,” Harris agrees darkly.
He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. I can only hope that Hooper bites on my baited hook. If he thinks I’m mad and bitter enough to have framed him somehow, and arrogant enough to have taunted him with a clue to where the damning evidence is hidden... if he hates me enough, and is paranoid enough, then he might unravel my little riddle and go searching around Hut 2.
Thinking back, I should have wrapped the part from the Bombe in one of his shirts before hiding it, that would have been a clever move. I really do make a terrible spy.
I slide the component into the tent, work the zip closed, and move quickly away into the shadows. It takes a few minutes for my breath to slow, and my heart to stop hammering, but I see no other movement. If anyone is watching Hooper’s tent, they are asleep at their posts.
Satisfied, I return the short way up the paths between the huts to the barrack block and the broken window.
It’s a little harder getting back through - the window is higher off the ground than the floor inside - but after a decent bit of jumping and hauling I manage to get my elbows up, and then one leg, and finally I collapse inside, quite winded and out breath.
“None of us are blameless, Harris. But you’re not my priest and I’m not yours. Now, please. Let me go. I’ll help you find this damn component, of course I will.”
He appears to consider the offer.
“Tell me, then,” he asks. “What’s your theory? You’re a smart fellow - as smart as they come around here, and that’s saying something. What’s your opinion on the missing component? Accident, perhaps? Or do you blame one of the other men?”
The rest of the night passes slowly. I sleep a little, dozing mostly. Then I’m woken by the rooster in the yard. The door opens, and Harris comes in. He takes one look at the broken window and frowns with puzzlement.
“What happened there?”
“Just adding to the drama,” I tell him, confidently. “I’m sure you can understand that.”
“I think we’ve had enough drama today already,” Harris replies. “Let’s hope for a clean kill.”
He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
“You’re right.” I shake my head. “You’re right. I don’t see how I can help you after all. So, there’s only one conclusion.”
“Oh, yes? And what’s that?”
“It’s your problem. Your security breach. So much for your careful vetting process.” I lean back in my chair and fold my arms so the way they shake will not be visible. “You’d better get on with solving it, instead of wasting your time in here with me.”
Harris harrumphs. He’s thinking it all over.
“I’m fine,” I reply. “This is all some misunderstanding and the quicker we have it cleared up the better.”
“I couldn’t agree more.” And then he comes right out with it, with an accusation. “Let’s get straight to the point. Do you have the component?” Harris demands. “Do you know where it is?”
“Yes. Probably under my bunk.”
Harris smiles wryly. “We’ll know that for a fake, then. We’ve looked there already. I don’t mind telling you, this is a disaster, this whole thing. What I want is to find that little bit of mechanical trickery anywhere. I don’t care where. In your luncheon box or under Hooper’s pillow, whatever. Just somewhere, and within the grounds of this place.”
“Very well then.” I swallow nervously, to make it look more genuine. “No. I passed it on to Hooper.”
“I see. And what did he do with it?”
I put my ear down to the keyhole, but there’s nothing now. Probably still a guard outside, of course, but they’re keeping mum.
No, I am content. I suppose I do not believe they will hang me. They will lock me up and continue to use my brain, if they can. I wonder what they will tell the world - perhaps that I have taken my own life. That would be simplest. The few who know me would believe it.
Well, then. Not a bad existence, in prison. Removed from temptation. A kind of imposed monasticism, with plenty more problems to solve, and more mysteries to fathom.
I wonder what else I might yet unravel before I’m done?
“For God’s sake, man, what do you have to lose?”
“We’ll be outside the door,” Harris replies, seriously. “The first sign of any funny business and we’ll have you both on the floor in minutes. You understand? The country needs your brain, but it’s not too worried about your legs. Remember that.”
Then he gets to his feet, and opens the door, and marches me out and across the yard. The evening is drawing in and there’s a chill in the air. My mind is racing. I have one opportunity here - a moment in which to put the fear of God into Hooper and make him do something foolish to place himself in harm’s way. But how to achieve it?
“You ready?” Harris demands.
“Try me. Just me and him.”
“Alone?”
“Alone.”
Harris considers it. I watch his eyes, flicking backwards and forwards over mine, like a ribbon-reader trying to load in its program.
In case I’m being followed, I divert around the perimeter of the compound. It’s a much longer path, and it takes me across some terrain that’s difficult to negotiate in the dark - muddy, and thick with thistles and nestles.
Still, I can be confident no-one is following, as I hear nothing. I crouch down behind the rear wall of Hut 2. The component is still there, wrapped in a tea-towel and shoved into a cavity in a breeze-block at the base of the Hut wall.
“An accident, naturally.” I risk a smile. “That damned machine, Harris; it’s made from spare parts and string. Even these huts leak when it rains. It wouldn’t take more than one fellow to trip over a cable to shake out a component and have it roll away across the floor. Have you tried looking under the thing?”
Harris doesn’t smile. “Do you suppose we haven’t? Do you supposed we haven’t combed every inch of this place already?”
In a sudden moment I understand that his reply is a threat.
“Now,” he continues. “Are you sure there isn’t anything you want to tell me?”
The bunk has a solid metal frame, a blanket, a pillow, nothing more.
“I broke it,” I reply. There doesn’t seem any use in trying to lie. “I thought I could escape. But I couldn’t get myself through.”
The Commander laughs. “Shame,” he remarks. “I should have left that window open and put a guard on you. Might have been interesting to see where you went. Anyway, I’m glad you’re still here, even if you do smell like a dog.”
“I’m no traitor,” I answer smartly.
He stares back at me. “Let’s get straight to the point. Do you have the component?” Harris demands. “Do you know where it is?”
“I’m no traitor, damn it. You know I’m not. How much work have I done here? Against the Germans? Cracking their codes? Understanding their secrets? I’ve given it my all! And you know as well as I do, if the Reich were to invade, I would be a dead man for being what I am. So please, Hooper. I’m not doing any of this lightly. But I’m in a jam!”
“Assuming I wanted to help you,” he replies, carefully. “Which I don’t. What would I do?”
“Nothing. Almost nothing.
All you have to do is go to the back of Hut 2. There’s a breeze-block with a cavity. That’s where I’ve put it. I’ll be locked up overnight, I should think. But you can pick it up and pass it to my contact. He’ll be at the south fence around two AM."
“If you think I’ll do that then you’re crazy,” Hooper replies.
At that moment the door flies open and the Captain comes storming back inside.
Harris hustles me over to the barracks. “I hope that’s the end of it,” he mutters as he pushes me up the steps.
“Just be sure to let him out,” I reply. “And then see where he goes.”
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
“I’m suggesting you save your own skin. I’ve wrapped that component in one of your shirts, Hooper. They’ll be searching this place top to bottom. They’ll find it eventually, and when they do, that’s the thing that will swing it against you. So take my advice now.”
“If you think I’ll do that then you’re crazy,” Hooper replies.
At that moment the door flies open and the Captain comes storming back inside.
Harris hustles me over to the barracks. “I hope that’s the end of it,” he mutters as he pushes me up the steps.
“Just be sure to let him out,” I reply. “And then see where he goes.”
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. Thinking back, I should have wrapped the part from the Bombe in one of his shirts before hiding it, that would have been a clever move. I really do make a terrible spy.
I peer out of the window, but it looks out onto the little brook at the back of the compound, with no view of the other huts or the House. Who knows if there are men up, searching the base of Hut 2, following one another with flashlights...
The night draws on at its own pace. I suppose by morning I will know my fate.
“No, Harris. The young man wasn’t blackmailing me.” I take a deep breath. “It was Hooper.”
“Now look here,” Harris interrupts. “Don’t start that again.”
“It’s the truth, Harris. If I’m going to jail, then so be it, but I won’t hang at Traitor’s Gate. Hooper was the one who told the boy about our work. Hooper put the boy on to me. And then, once he had me compromised, he demanded I steal the part from the machine.”
“Which you did.” Harris leans forward. “And then what? You still have it? You put it somewhere?”
“Of course I do,” I answer.
The reel went missing from the Bombe this afternoon. The four of us were in the Hut at the time, working on the latest intercept. It was Russell who noticed the machine producing strange results and found the gap in its plugboard. But as to who took it - it could have been any of us.
And indeed, it must have been. The machine had been functioning as normal when we began our calculations. And then, a short few hours later, it was gone. We had to stop. There was nothing more we could do until it was replaced. The part was vital, just as the machine was vital, and so were the contents of the message, still unread twenty four hours later.
“Let’s get straight to the point. Do you have the component?” Harris demands. “Do you know where it is?”
I have no God to make peace with. I find it difficult to believe in goodness of any kind, in a world such as this.
I have no place here. No way to fit. I am the intercept - caught, in the middle, cryptic and understood only thinly, through devices and machines.
“Then I’ll be going, on and getting on with my job of saving her, shall I?” I even rise half to my feet, before he slams the tabletop.
“Talk,” Harris demands. “Talk, now. Tell me where you’ve hidden it or who you’ve passed it to. Or God help me, but I’ll take your wretched pansy body to pieces looking for it, do you understand me?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
I wait a few minutes, to be sure Hooper and the Captain will have gone, then try the door. It’s locked, all right. I’m not really one for picking locks. Never tried it. I don’t think I’ll be getting out that way.
“Very well then.” I swallow nervously, to make it look more genuine. “No. I passed it on to Hooper.”
“I see. And what did he do with it?”
“Yes. I suppose he was their agent. I should have realised but I didn’t. Then he threatened to tell you. I thought you would have me locked up: I couldn’t bear the thought of it. I love working here. I’ve never been so happy, so successful, anywhere before. I didn’t want to lose it.”
“So what did you do with the component?” Harris talks urgently. He grips his gloves tightly in one hand, perhaps prepared to lift them and strike if it is required. “Have you passed it to this man already? Have you left it somewhere for him to find?”
“I’m not trying to do anything except save my neck.”
“Let’s hope things work out,” Harris agrees darkly.
He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
I put my ear down to the keyhole, but there’s nothing now. Probably still a guard outside, of course, but they’re keeping mum.
“All right,” he declares, gruffly. “We’ll try it. But if this doesn’t work, I might just put the both of you in front of a firing squad and be done with these games. Worse things happen in time of war, you know.”
“Alone,” I add.
“Alone?”
“Alone.”
Harris considers it. I watch his eyes, flicking backwards and forwards over mine, like a ribbon-reader trying to load in its program.
No, I am content. I suppose I do not believe they will hang me. They will lock me up and continue to use my brain, if they can. I wonder what they will tell the world - perhaps that I have taken my own life. That would be simplest. The few who know me would believe it.
Well, then. Not a bad existence, in prison. Removed from temptation. A kind of imposed monasticism, with plenty more problems to solve, and more mysteries to fathom.
I wonder what else I might yet unravel before I’m done?
“Very well. I see there’s no point in covering up. You know everything anyway.”
Harris nods, and waits for me to continue.
“There was a young man, Harris. I met him in the town. A few months ago now. We got to talking - not about work. I said I was an accountant for a firm, just as I was supposed to. Although he seemed to know that wasn’t true. That got me wondering if he wasn’t one of us.”
Harris is not letting me off any more. “You seriously considered that possibility?”
“Perhaps the accomplice thought it was Hooper being kept in here. Maybe they saw the guard...”
“This is all too far-fetched,” Harris says. “I’m glad to have this back, but I need to think.”
Getting to his feet, he nods once. “You’ll have to wait a little longer, I’m afraid, Manning.”
Then he steps out of the door, muttering to himself.
“You want me to tell you what happened? You’ll be disgusted, I’m quite sure.”
“I can imagine how it starts,” he growls.
“There was a young man, Harris. I met him in the town. A few months ago now. We got to talking - not about work. I said I was an accountant for a firm, just as I was supposed to. Although he seemed to know that wasn’t true. That got me wondering if he wasn’t one of us.”
Harris is not letting me off any more. “You seriously considered that possibility?”
I peer out of the window, but it looks out onto the little brook at the back of the compound, with no view of the other huts or the House. Who knows if there are men up, searching the base of Hut 2, following one another with flashlights...
The night draws on at its own pace. I suppose by morning I will know my fate.
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
“It’s not that bad. I can still fix it.”
Harris shakes his head. “This isn’t a problem to be cracked. This isn’t a puzzle. I’m sorry, but this is bigger than you now. Look. You can go to prison for what you’ve done, or we can change your identity and move you somewhere where your... indiscretions... can’t hurt anyone any more. But right now none of that matters. What happens to you, doesn’t matter. All that matters is where that component is. So I’d like you to tell me, now. Where is it?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
No, I am content. I suppose I do not believe they will hang me. They will lock me up and continue to use my brain, if they can. I wonder what they will tell the world - perhaps that I have taken my own life. That would be simplest. The few who know me would believe it.
Well, then. Not a bad existence, in prison. Removed from temptation. A kind of imposed monasticism, with plenty more problems to solve, and more mysteries to fathom.
I wonder what else I might yet unravel before I’m done?
I say nothing, my lips tightly, firmly sealed. It’s true I am a traitor, to the very laws of nature. The world has taught me that since a very early age. But not to my country - should the Reich win this war, I would hardly be treated as an honoured hero. I was doomed from the very start.
I explain none of this. How could a man like Harris understand?
The Commander takes one look back from the doorway as he pulls it to.
“It’s been a pleasure working with you, Mr Manning,” he declares. “You’ve done a great service to this country. If we come through, I’m sure they’ll remember you name. I’m sorry it had to end this way and I’ll do my best to keep it quiet. No-one need know what you did.”
The Commander holds the door for his superior, and follows him out. Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
“I had to get out, Harris. I had to provoke Hooper into doing something that would incriminate himself fully. He’s too clever, you see...”
“Be quiet, man. We know all about your and your sordid affairs.” The Captain curls his lip. “Don’t you know there’s a war on? Do you know the kind of place they would have sent you if it haven’t had been for that brain of yours? Don’t you think you owe it to your country to use it a little more?”
Do I, I wonder? Do I owe this country anything, this country that has spurned who and what am I since the day I became a man?
Enough of this place. Time for me to get moving. I can get to the train station on foot, catch the postal train to Scotland and be somewhere else before anyone realises that I’m gone.
Of course, then they’ll be looking for me in earnest. As a confirmed traitor.
From where he’s sitting, I know Hooper can see me, so I keep my head down and look guilty as sin. The bastard is probably smiling.
The Captain comes outside, pulling the door to. “What’s this?” he asks. “A confession? Just like that?”
“No,” the Commander admits, in a low voice. “I’m afraid not. Rather more a scheme. The idea is to let Hooper go and see what he does. If he believes we have Manning here in irons, he’ll try to shift the component.”
“If he has it.”
“Indeed.”
The Captain peers at me for a moment, like I was some kind of curious insect.
“Sometimes, I think you people are magicians,” he remarks. “Other times you seem more like witches. Very well.”
With that he opens the door to the Hut and goes back inside. The Commander uses the moment to hustle me roughly forward.
“This scheme of yours had better come off,” he hisses in my ear. “Otherwise the Captain is going to start having men tailing me to see where I go on Saturdays.”
Enough of this. There isn’t any time to lose. Right now they’ll be following Hooper as he goes to bed, and goes to sleep; and then that’s it. The minute he closes his eyelids and drifts off that’s the moment that this trap swings shut on me.
So I punch out the glass with my fist and it shatters with a terrific noise. Then I stop, and wait, to see if anyone will come in through the door.
Nothing.
I slip off my jacket and hold it with one hand over the glass. This should do it. Then I heft the bucket - this really is quite a fiddly thing to be doing, and I need far longer arms, especially in cuffs - and take a strong swing, trying to imagine it’s Harris’ face on the other side.
The sound of the impact is muffled. With my arm still covered, I sweep out the remaining glass in the frame. I’m ready to escape. The only trouble is - when they look in on me in the morning, there will be no question what has happened. It won’t help me one jot with shifting suspicion off my back.
“Yes, I considered it. He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
I suppose I do not believe they will hang me. They will lock me up and continue to use my brain, if they can. I wonder what they will tell the world - perhaps that I have taken my own life. That would be simplest. The few who know me would believe it.
Well, then. Not a bad existence, in prison. Removed from temptation. A kind of imposed monasticism, with plenty more problems to solve, and more mysteries to fathom.
I wonder what else I might yet unravel before I’m done?
I slip off my jacket and hold it with one hand over the glass. This should do it. Then I heft my shoe by its toe, and take a strong swing, trying to imagine it’s Harris’ face on the other side.
The sound of the impact is muffled. With my arm still covered, I sweep out the remaining glass in the frame. I’m ready to escape. The only trouble is - when they look in on me in the morning, there will be no question what has happened. It won’t help me one jot with shifting suspicion off my back.
“The component?”
“Yes,” Harris replies levelly. “The component that went missing this afternoon. I doubt that you’ve forgotten.”
He’s talking about the missing reel from the Bombe. Russell discovered it this afternoon when the machine began producing strange results. We were all in the Hut when it happened and it had been in place when we sat down to work. The conclusions had been obvious to all four of us immediately, but had gone undiscussed, even after the empty socket was located, the wiring torn on either side.
“Lucky these things are easy to replace,” Russell had remarked, and that had been that. We had stopped work, sent out for a new part to be machined. And drunk our tea and watched each other.
“Come now,” Harris says, quite the reasonable gent. “As I told you. We’re not interviewing everyone. Only you. So. I think you can be a little more forthcoming.”
I shrug, eloquently.
“This is all too far-fetched,” Harris says. “I’m glad to have this back, but I need to think.”
Getting to his feet, he nods once. “You’ll have to wait a little longer, I’m afraid, Manning.”
Then he steps out of the door, muttering to himself.
“Well, then,” I answer, nervously. “What would he do? Either get rid of it straight away - or if that wasn’t possible, which it probably wouldn’t be, since he’d have to arrange things with his contacts - so most likely, he’d hide it somewhere and wait, until you had the rope around my neck and he could be sure he was safe.”
“Makes sense,” Harris agrees, cautiously. I can see he’s still not certain whether he can trust me. “Which means the question is, what can we do to rat him out?”
“So he’s an idiot, and he hid it in his shoe.”
“No,” Harris replies. “That isn’t really what I mean. I mean, he managed to find it, by accident, somewhere where it wasn’t the night before. And at the same time, you’re sitting here with your window broken. So, I rather think you’ve played your last hand and lost. There’s no way Hooper stole that component and then just left it lying around in the doorway of his tent. No way at all. So I came to tell you that the game is up for you.”
He nods and gets to his feet. Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
“I’ll talk to him.”
“What?”
“Put me in with Hooper. Maybe I can get something useful out of him. As his colleague.”
Harris shakes his head. “He despises you, doesn’t he? I don’t see why he’d give himself up to you.”
“You mean he confessed of his own accord? You didn’t catch him?”
“The Captain went back into that hut and he confessed immediately. We were so surprised we didn’t let you go.” He wrinkles his nose. “I’m rather sorry about that now, but I suppose we’ll let you go know. I suggest you have a wash.”
And with that he gestures to the doorway.
“Put me in with Hooper. Maybe I can get something useful out of him. As his colleague.”
Harris shakes his head. “He despises you, doesn’t he? I don’t see why he’d give himself up to you.”
I go over to the window and try to jimmy it open. Not much luck, but in my struggling I notice this window only backs on the thin little brook that runs down the back of the compound. Which means, if I smashed it, I might get away with no-one seeing.
Making a wide circuit I creep around the tent. It has plenty of other flaps and openings, tied down with Gordian complexity. But nothing afford itself to slipping the component inside.
“No.”
“Too bad.” Harris opens the door and pushes me inside. “Captain,” he calls. “Could I have a moment?”
The Captain, looking puzzled, steps out. The door is closed. Hooper stares at me, open-mouthed, about to say something. I probably have less than a minute before the Captain storms back in and declares this plan to be bunkum.
I slide the component into the tent, work the zip closed, and move quickly away into the shadows. It takes a few minutes for my breath to slow, and my heart to stop hammering, but I see no other movement. If anyone is watching Hooper’s tent, they are asleep at their posts.
Satisfied, I return the short way up the paths between the huts to the barrack block and the broken window.
It’s a little harder getting back through - the window is higher off the ground than the floor inside - but after a decent bit of jumping and hauling I manage to get my elbows up, and then one leg, and finally I collapse inside, quite winded and out breath.
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
“No. Not for more than a moment, of course. Everyone here is marked out by how little we would be willing to say about it.”
“Only you told this young man more than a little, didn’t you?”
I nod. “He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
There’s no time to lose. Throwing caution to the wind I make my way quickly to Hut 2, and around the back. I don’t think I’ve been followed, or seen but if I have, it’s too late. My actions are suspicious enough for anyone’s noose. I have no choice but to follow through.
The component is still there, wrapped in a tea-towel and shoved into a cavity in a breeze-block at the base of the Hut wall.
“Tell Hooper I’ve confessed. In fact, better yet, let him see you march me off in handcuffs. Then let him go, and watch him. Ten to one he’ll go straight to wherever he’s hidden that component and his game will be up.”
Harris nods slowly, chewing over the idea. It isn’t a bad plan even - except, of course, Hooper has not hidden the component, and won’t lead them anywhere. But that’s a problem I might be able to solve once I’m out of this place; and once they’re busy, dogging Hooper’s steps from hut to hut.
“It’s an interesting idea,” the Commander muses. “But I’m not so sure he’ll be that stupid. And if he’s already passed the part on, well, the whole thing will only be a waste of time.”
I let him have his rant. He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
From inspiration - or desperation, I am not certain - a simple approach occurs to me. I toss the component away into the bushes behind Hooper’s tent and return to my barrack, wishing myself a long sleep followed by a morning, free of this business.
Satisfied, I return the short way up the paths between the huts to the barrack block and the broken window.
It’s a little harder getting back through - the window is higher off the ground than the floor inside - but after a decent bit of jumping and hauling I manage to get my elbows up, and then one leg, and finally I collapse inside, quite winded and out breath.
There’s no time to lose. Throwing caution to the wind I make my way quickly to Hut 2, and around the back. I don’t think I’ve been followed, or seen but if I have, it’s too late. My actions are suspicious enough for anyone’s noose. I have no choice but to follow through.
The component is still there, wrapped in a tea-towel and shoved into a cavity in a breeze-block at the base of the Hut wall.
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
The bunk has a solid metal frame, a blanket, a pillow, nothing more.
“I’m not sure. I was asleep: I woke up when someone broke the window. I looked out to see who it was, but they were already gone.”
Harris looks at me with puzzlement. “Someone came by to break the window, and then ran off? That’s absurd. That’s utterly absurd. Admit it, Manning. You tried to escape and you couldn’t get through.”
“Here at Bletchley? Of course I do”
“Here, now,” Harris replies firmly. “We’re not talking to everyone, you understand. I can imagine you might feel pretty sore about that, old man. I can imagine you feeling picked on. You always were a sensitive soul.”
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
“All right. I’ll tell you what happened.” And never mind my shame, I think.
“I can imagine how it starts,” he growls.
“There was a young man, Harris. I met him in the town. A few months ago now. We got to talking - not about work, you understand. I said I was an accountant for a firm, just as I was supposed to. Although he seemed to know that wasn’t true. That got me wondering if he wasn’t one of us.”
Harris is not letting me off any more. “You seriously considered that possibility?”
No time to waste. I drop to my knees and check the breeze-block. Sure enough, there’s nothing there. Hooper took the bait.
Suddenly, there’s a movement behind me. I look up to see, first a snub pistol, and then, Harris.
“Queen to rook two,” he declares. “I wouldn’t have fathomed it but Hooper did. Explained it right after we sprung him doing what you’re doing now. We weren’t sure what to believe but now, you seem to have resolved that for us.”
There is nothing I can do to speed up time. The night draws on at its own pace. I suppose by morning I will know my fate.
“I’m fine,” I reply. “This is all some misunderstanding and the quicker we have it cleared up the better.”
“I couldn’t agree more.” And then he comes right out with it, with an accusation. “Let’s get straight to the point. Do you have the component?” Harris demands. “Do you know where it is?”
I shrug, eloquently.
“This is all too far-fetched,” Harris says. “I’m glad to have this back, but I need to think.”
Getting to his feet, he nods once. “You’ll have to wait a little longer, I’m afraid, Manning.”
Then he steps out of the door, muttering to himself.
“Well, then,” I answer, nervously. “What would he do? Either get rid of it straight away - or if that wasn’t possible, which it probably wouldn’t be, since he’d have to arrange things with his contacts - so most likely, he’d hide it somewhere and wait, until you had the rope around my neck and he could be sure he was safe.”
“Makes sense,” Harris agrees, cautiously. I can see he’s still not entirely convinced by my tale, as well he might not be - I’ve hardly been entirely straight with him. “Which means the question is, what can we do to rat him out?”
I toss the component away into the bushes behind Hooper’s tent and return to my barrack, wishing myself a long sleep followed by a morning, free of this business.
Satisfied, I return the short way up the paths between the huts to the barrack block and the broken window.
It’s a little harder getting back through - the window is higher off the ground than the floor inside - but after a decent bit of jumping and hauling I manage to get my elbows up, and then one leg, and finally I collapse inside, quite winded and out breath.
I put my ear to the keyhole but can make out nothing. Are there still guards posted? Perhaps, if Hooper has managed to incriminate himself, the guards have been removed?
Perhaps the door is unlocked and they left me to sleep? I try the handle. No such luck.
The night draws on at its own pace. I suppose by morning I will know my fate.
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
“I did.”
I have become, somehow, an accustomed liar - the words roll easily off my tongue. Perhaps I am a traitor, I think, now that I dissemble as easily as one.
“Go on,” Harris says, giving me no indication of whether he believes my tale.
“What could I do?” I’m shaking now. The night is cold and the heat-lamp in this hut has been removed, presumably to keep me alert and on edge. “I don’t want to go to prison.”
“You committed a crime,” Harris answers. If I had any sense that he understood my predicament, and that he felt for my state of being, it collapses like a chain with a broken link. “You thought you could repair it with another, more serious crime?” He shakes his head. “I thought you men were supposed to be clever. But this is the action of a frightened woman. So I’d like you to tell me, now. Where is it?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
Work carefully? It’s difficult to work carefully when all one’s has is a bucket. It’s rather like the sledgehammer for the proverbial nut.
“No.”
“Too bad.” Harris opens the door and pushes me inside. “Captain,” he calls. “Could I have a moment?”
The Captain, looking puzzled, steps out. The door is closed. Hooper stares at me, open-mouthed, about to say something. I probably have less than a minute before the Captain storms back in and declares this plan to be bunkum.
“I know nothing about it.” My voice is shaking with anger as I try to speak. I’m not accustomed to facing off against the Commander - against any man with a gun in his holster. “I don’t know what gives you the right to pick on me. I demand a lawyer.”
“This is time of war,” Harris answers. His tone of voice has fallen down into darkness. “And by God, if I have to shoot you to recover the component or stop it falling into the wrong hands, I will, do you understand me?”
There’s an icy silence. He’s angry at my slippery answers. He waves an impetuous hand across the field table.
“Now, drink your tea and talk.”
The bucket? Hardly. The bucket might do some good if I wanted to sweep up the glass afterwards, but it won’t help me smash the glass quietly.
“Yes, I considered it. He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
Work carefully? It’s difficult to work carefully when all one’s has is a bucket. It’s rather like the sledgehammer for the proverbial nut.
I pause for a moment longer. It doesn’t do to be too careless...
Then the door locks turns. The door opens. Then Jeremy - one of the guards, rather - sticks his head through the door. “I thought I heard...”
He stops. Looks for a moment. Sees the bucket in my hand. Then without a moment’s further thought he blows his shrill whistles and hustles into the hut, grabbing me roughly by my arms.
I’ll never know if I hadn’t have waited that extra moment - maybe I still could have got away. But, how far?
I’m hustled into one of the huts. Nowhere to sleep, but they’re not interested in my comfort any longer. Harris comes in with the Captain.
“So,” Harris remarks. “Looks like your little trap worked. Only it worked to show you out for what you are.”
The bucket? Hardly. The bucket might do some good if I wanted to sweep up the glass afterwards, but it won’t help me smash the glass quietly.
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
I pat down my pockets but all I’m carrying is the intercept, which is no good at all.
“Someone threw this in through the window over night,” I reply, and open my jacket to reveal the component from the Bombe. “I couldn’t see who, it was too dark. But I know what it is.”
He reaches out and takes it. “Well, I’ll be damned,” he murmurs. “That’s it all right. And you didn’t have it on you when we put you in here. But it can’t have been Hooper - I had men watching him all night. And there’s no-one else it could have been.”
He turns the component over in his hands, bemused.
“That’s exactly it,” I say quietly. “Harris. You understand. There are some things... which can get a man into a lot of trouble. Things one shouldn’t do.”
Harris, to his credit, doesn’t stiffen. He doesn’t lean away, or remove his hands from the table-top as though my condition might be infectious. I thought they trained them in the army to shoot my kind on sight but he does not.
Of course, he does not offer any sympathy either. He only nods, once. The understanding that has passed between us here is a mere turning cog in his calculations, with no meaning or righteousness to it.
“I’ve seen the same story a hundred times before,” he says. “A young man like yourself - clever, somewhat removed from the world. The kind that doesn’t go to parties, you might say. Who takes himself a little too seriously, perhaps. Takes things too far. Further than a man should allow a thing to go. That’s the story, isn’t it? You took things too far, and then you couldn’t take them back. And now they have you.”
“Yes. Something like that. It’s a very lonely life otherwise. And the work we do - well. It only makes it worse. There’s barely a moment to oneself.”
“That’s how it is in the Service,” Harris answers. “I know you didn’t sign up for it but, well. There’s plenty of other men who didn’t who are serving now, too. Now, go on with your confession.”
That gives me pause, for a moment. I hadn’t thought of it as such. But I suppose that’s what this is. I am about to admit what I did, after all.
“There’s not much else to say. I took the part from Bombe computing device. You seem to know that already. I had to. He was going to expose me if I didn’t.”
“This young man was blackmailing you over your affair?”
“Here at Bletchley? Of course I do”
“Here, now,” Harris replies firmly. “We’re not talking to everyone, you understand. I can imagine you might feel pretty sore about that, old man. I can imagine you feeling picked on.”
I put my ear down to the keyhole, but there’s nothing now. Probably still a guard outside, of course, but they’re keeping mum.
“None of us are blameless, Harris. But I’ve done nothing to deserve this treatment. Now, please. Let me go. I’ll help you find this damn component, of course I will.”
He appears to consider the offer.
“Tell me, then,” he asks. “What’s your theory? You’re a smart fellow - as smart as they come around here, and that’s saying something. What’s your opinion on the missing component? Accident, perhaps? Or do you blame one of the other men? Hooper?”
I see. Perhaps you think I bullied the man into giving himself up. Perhaps he understood my little clue far enough to know it was a threat against him, but not well enough to understand where he should look to find it. So he took the easy route out and folded. Gave me the hand.
Hardly sporting, is that it?
There’s no time to lose. Throwing caution to the wind I make my way quickly to Hut 2, and around the back. I don’t think I’ve been followed, or seen but if I have, it’s too late. My actions are suspicious enough for anyone’s noose. I have no choice but to follow through.
The component is still there, wrapped in a tea-towel and shoved into a cavity in a breeze-block at the base of the Hut wall.
“I don’t know.”
“You can do better than that. Remember, there’s a hangman’s noose waiting for traitors.”
I peer out of the window, but it looks out onto the little brook at the back of the compound, with no view of the other huts or the House. Who knows if there are men up, searching the base of Hut 2, following one another with flashlights...
The night draws on at its own pace. I suppose by morning I will know my fate.
“I know nothing about it.” My voice is shaking as I try to speak. I’m not accustomed to facing off against the Commander - against any man with a gun in his holster. “I don’t know what gives you the right to pick on me. Shouldn’t I have a lawyer?”
“This is time of war,” Harris answers. His tone of voice has fallen down into darkness. “And by God, if I have to shoot you to recover the component or stop it falling into the wrong hands, I will, do you understand me?”
There’s an icy silence. He’s angry. He waves an impetuous hand across the field table.
“Now, drink your tea and talk.”
“I’m suggesting you save your own skin. I’ve wrapped that component in one of your shirts, Hooper. They’ll be searching this place top to bottom. They’ll find it eventually, and when they do, that’s the thing that will swing it against you. So take my advice now.”
“If you think I’ll do that then you’re crazy,” Hooper replies.
At that moment the door flies open and the Captain comes storming back inside.
Harris hustles me over to the barracks. “I hope that’s the end of it,” he mutters as he pushes me up the steps.
“Just be sure to let him out,” I reply. “And then see where he goes.”
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. Thinking back, I should have wrapped the part from the Bombe in one of his shirts before hiding it, that would have been a clever move. I really do make a terrible spy.
I go over to the window and try to jimmy it open. Not much luck, but in my struggling I notice this window only backs on the thin little brook that runs down the back of the compound. Which means, if I smashed it, I might get away with no-one seeing.
I peer out of the window, but it looks out onto the little brook at the back of the compound, with no view of the other huts or the House. Who knows if there are men up, searching the base of Hut 2, following one another with flashlights...
Perhaps Hooper is there, in the dark, trying to help me after all?
The night draws on at its own pace. I suppose by morning I will know my fate.
I have no God to make peace with. I find it difficult to believe in goodness of any kind, in a world such as this.
I have no place here. No way to fit. I am the intercept - caught, in the middle, cryptic and understood only thinly, through devices and machines.
I hop up the steps and put my head inside all the same. Nobody about. Still too early in the AM for sparks, I suppose.
I head on around the back of the hut. The breeze-block with the cavity is on the left side.
“Oh, yes?”
“Yes. For what that’s worth. There’s still the issue of the component. It hasn’t turned up. He didn’t lead us to it. I guess he figured you must have had something on him. I don’t know.”
He looks quite put out by the whole affair. He is not the kind of man to deal well with ambiguities and probabilities, far preferred the clarity of fact and falsehood.
“We’ll fool him. He’s waiting to be sure that I’ve been strung up for this, so let’s give him what he wants. If he sees me taken away, clapped in irons - he’ll go straight to that component and set about getting rid of it.”
Harris gets to his feet. “All right,” he says. “I should no better than to trust a clever man, but we’ll give it a go.” Then, he smiles, with all his teeth, like a wolf. “Hooper’s in Hut 3 being debriefed by the Captain. Let’s see if we can’t get his attention somehow.”
He raps on the door for the guard and gives the man a quick instruction. He returns a moment later with a cool pair of iron cuffs.
“Put ‘em up,” Harris instructs, and I do so. The metal closes around my wrists like a trap. I stand and follow Harris willingly out through the door.
But whatever I’m doing with my body, my mind is scheming. Somehow, I’m thinking, I have to get away from these men long enough to get that component behind Hut 2 and put it somewhere Hooper will go. Or, otherwise, somehow get Hooper to go there himself...
Harris marches me over to Hut 3, and gestures for the guard to stand aside. Pushing me forward, he opens the door nice and wide.
“Captain. Manning talked. If you’d step out for a moment?”
“What could I do?” I’m shaking now. The night is cold and the heat-lamp in this hut has been removed, presumably to keep me alert and on edge. “I don’t want to go to prison.”
“You committed a crime,” Harris answers. If I had any sense that he understood my predicament, and that he felt for my state of being, it collapses like a chain with a broken link. “You thought you could repair it with another, more serious crime?” He shakes his head. “I thought you men were supposed to be clever. But this is the action of a frightened woman. So I’d like you to tell me, now. Where is it?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
“Maybe I can help with that.”
“Oh, yes? And how, exactly?”
“Yes, I considered it. He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
“I know where it is.”
Harris stares back at me.
“I see.” There’s a long pause, like the endless delay between feeding in a line of cypher to the Bombe and waiting for its valves and cylinders to heat up enough to being processing. “Would you like to explain?”
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
“None of us are blameless, Harris. But I’ve done nothing to deserve this treatment. Now, please. Let me go. I’ll help you find this damn component, of course I will.”
He appears to consider the offer.
“Tell me, then,” he asks. “What’s your theory? You’re a smart fellow - as smart as they come around here, and that’s saying something. What’s your opinion on the missing component? Accident, perhaps? Or do you blame one of the other men?”
I have a single moment to shout something to Hooper before the door closes.
“I’ll get you Hooper, you’ll see!” I cry. Then:
“I can’t remember.”
He draws his gun and lays it lightly on the field table.
“I’m sorry to threaten you, friend. But His Majesty needs that brain of yours, and that brain alone. There are plenty of other parts to you that our country could do better without. Now I’ll ask you again. Did you hide the component?”
I put my ear down to the keyhole, but there’s nothing now. Probably still a guard outside, of course, but they’re keeping mum.
“Yes. Probably under my bunk.”
Harris smiles wryly. “We’ll know that for a fake, then. We’ve looked there already. I don’t mind telling you, this is a disaster, this whole thing. What I want is to find that little bit of mechanical trickery anywhere. I don’t care where. In your luncheon box or under Hooper’s pillow, whatever. Just somewhere, and within the grounds of this place.”
I wait a few minutes, to be sure Hooper and the Captain will have gone, then try the door. It’s locked, all right. I’m not really one for picking locks. Never tried it. I don’t think I’ll be getting out that way.
I suppose I do not believe they will hang me. They will lock me up and continue to use my brain, if they can. I wonder what they will tell the world - perhaps that I have taken my own life. That would be simplest. The few who know me would believe it.
Well, then. Not a bad existence, in prison. Removed from temptation. A kind of imposed monasticism, with plenty more problems to solve, and more mysteries to fathom.
I wonder what else I might yet unravel before I’m done?
I go over to the window and try to jimmy it open. Not much luck, but in my struggling I notice this window only backs on the thin little brook that runs down the back of the compound. Which means, if I smashed it, I might get away with no-one seeing.
From outside, I hear a voice. Hooper’s. He’s haranguing someone, for something.
I go over to the window and try to jimmy it open. Not much luck, but in my struggling I notice this window only backs on the thin little brook that runs down the back of the compound. Which means, if I smashed it, I might get away with no-one seeing.
Work carefully? It’s difficult to work carefully when all one’s has is a bucket. It’s rather like the sledgehammer for the proverbial nut.
The blanket. Perfect. I scoop it up off the bed and hold it in place over the window. This should do it. Then I heft my shoe by its toe, and take a strong swing, trying to imagine it’s Harris’ face on the other side.
The sound of the impact is muffled. With my arm still covered, I sweep out the remaining glass in the frame. I’m ready to escape. The only trouble is - when they look in on me in the morning, there will be no question what has happened. It won’t help me one jot with shifting suspicion off my back.
“I was quite certain, after a while. After we’d been talking. He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
“I’m not trying to do anything except save my neck.”
“Let’s hope things work out,” Harris agrees darkly.
He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
“I always meant to tell you,” I tell him. “I thought perhaps I could find out who they were. Lead you to them.”
Harris looks at me with contempt. “You wretched little man. Don’t think your tongue will be able to get you out of trouble. You’re going to pay for what you’ve done, and you’re going to pay dearly. If a single man loses his life because of your pride and your perversions then God help your eternal soul. The fact is you committed a crime.” If I had any sense that he understood my predicament, and that he felt for my state of being, it collapses like a chain with a broken link. “You thought you could repair it with another, more serious crime?” He shakes his head. “I thought you men were supposed to be clever. But this is the action of a frightened woman. So I’d like you to tell me, now. Where is it?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
“Tell Hooper I’ve confessed. In fact, better yet, let him see you march me off in handcuffs. Then let him go, and watch him. Ten to one he’ll go straight to wherever he’s hidden that component and his game will be up.”
Harris nods slowly, chewing over the idea. It isn’t a bad plan even - except, of course, Hooper has not hidden the component, and won’t lead them anywhere. But that’s a problem I might be able to solve once I’m out of this place; and once they’re busy, dogging Hooper’s steps from hut to hut.
“It’s an interesting idea,” the Commander muses. “But I’m not so sure he’ll be that stupid. And if he’s already passed the part on, well, the whole thing will only be a waste of time.”
“Explain what you should be doing, do you mean, rather than bullying me? Certainly.” I fold my arms. “I know where your component is because it’s obvious where your component is. That doesn’t mean I took it, just because I can figure out a simple problem, any more than it means I’m a German spy because I can crack their codes.”
“Tell me, then,” he asks. “What’s your theory? You’re a smart fellow - as smart as they come around here, and that’s saying something. What’s your opinion on the missing component? Accident, perhaps? Or do you blame one of the other men? Hooper?”
“No. I have no idea.”
He’s talking about the missing reel from the Bombe. Russell discovered it this afternoon when the machine began producing strange results. We were all in the Hut when it happened and it had been in place when we sat down to work. The conclusions had been obvious to all four of us immediately, but had gone undiscussed, even after the empty socket was located, the wiring torn on either side.
“Lucky these things are easy to replace,” Russell had remarked, and that had been that. We had stopped work, sent out for a new part to be machined. And drunk our tea and watched each other.
“Come now,” Harris says, quite the reasonable gent. “As I told you. We’re not interviewing everyone. Only you. So. I think you can be a little more forthcoming.”
It’s no good. That’s only half a solution. I couldn’t be happy with that.
“I always meant to tell you,” I tell him. “I thought perhaps I could find out who they were. Lead you to them.”
Harris looks at me with contempt. “You wretched little man. Don’t think your tongue will be able to get you out of trouble. You’re going to pay for what you’ve done, and you’re going to pay dearly. If a single man loses his life because of your pride and your perversions then God help your eternal soul. The fact is you committed a crime.” If I had any sense that he understood my predicament, and that he felt for my state of being, it collapses like a chain with a broken link. “You thought you could repair it with another, more serious crime?” He shakes his head. “I thought you men were supposed to be clever. But this is the action of a frightened woman. So I’d like you to tell me, now. Where is it?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
“Well, then,” I answer, nervously. “What would he do? Either get rid of it straight away - or if that wasn’t possible, which it probably wouldn’t be, since he’d have to arrange things with his contacts - so most likely, he’d hide it somewhere and wait, until you had the rope around my neck and he could be sure he was safe.”
“Makes sense,” Harris agrees, cautiously. I can see he’s still not entirely convinced by my tale, as well he might not be - I’ve hardly been entirely straight with him. “Which means the question is, what can we do to rat him out?”
“Very well then.” I swallow nervously, to make it look more genuine. “No. I passed it on to Hooper.”
“I see. And what did he do with it?”
“Only that this process is unreasonable, and I believe you’re behaving like a swine.”
“You imbecile,” Harris replies, with sudden force. He is half out of his chair. “You know the situation as well as I do, so why all this fencing? The Hun are poised like rats, ready to run all over this country. They’ll destroy everything, you do understand that, don’t you? You’re not so locked up inside your crossword puzzles that you don’t see that, are you? And this machine we have here - you men - you are the best and only hope this country has. God help her.”
I sit back, startled by the force of his outburst. His carefully sculpted expression has curled to angry disgust and there is spit flecking his lips. He really does hate me, I think. He’ll have my neck just for the taste of it.
It’s useless. There’s nothing I can do but hope. I sit down on one corner of the bunk to wait.
Night falls. The clockwork of the heavens keeps turning, whatever state I might be in. No-one can steal the components that make the sun go down and the stars come out. I watch it performing its operations. I can’t sleep.
“You want me to tell you what happened? You’ll be disgusted, I’m quite sure.”
“I can imagine how it starts,” he growls.
“There was a young man, Harris. I met him in the town. A few months ago now. We got to talking - not about work. I said I was an accountant for a firm, just as I was supposed to. Although he seemed to know that wasn’t true. That got me wondering if he wasn’t one of us.”
Harris is not letting me off any more. “You seriously considered that possibility?”
I shift in my seat. “Not really. The boy was a simpleton, obviously. My intellectual inferior. His good opinion meant nothing to be. Harris, please do not misunderstand me. I was simply after his body.”
Harris, to his credit, doesn’t flinch. Well, perhaps not: but he’ll have nightmares of this moment tonight. I’m almost tempted to reach out and try to take his hand to worsen it for him, but I hold back.
“Go on with your confession,” he replies. I shrug.
“There’s not much else to say. I took the part from Bombe computing device. You seem to know that already. I had to. He was going to expose me if I didn’t.”
“This young man was blackmailing you over your affair?”
I put my ear down to the keyhole, but there’s nothing now. Probably still a guard outside, of course, but they’re keeping mum.
“Now steady on,” I reply, gesturing for him to calm himself.
“Talk,” Harris demands. “Talk, now. Tell me where you’ve hidden it or who you’ve passed it to. Or God help me, but I’ll take your wretched pansy body to pieces looking for it, do you understand me?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
“No. It’s not treason. It’s a trade, plain and simple.”
“If you think I’ll do that then you’re crazy,” Hooper replies.
At that moment the door flies open and the Captain comes storming back inside.
Harris hustles me over to the barracks. “I hope that’s the end of it,” he mutters as he pushes me up the steps.
“Just be sure to let him out,” I reply. “And then see where he goes.”
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
Enough of this. There isn’t any time to lose. Right now they’ll be following Hooper as he goes to bed, and goes to sleep; and then that’s it. The minute he closes his eyelids and drifts off that’s the moment that this trap swings shut on me.
So I punch out the glass with my bucket and it shatters with a terrific noise. Then I stop, and wait, to see if anyone will come in through the door.
Nothing.
It’s no good. Nothing I can do will be any less than obvious - something appearing where something was not there before. The men watching Hooper will know it is a deception and Hooper’s protestations will be taken at face value.
If I can’t find a way for Hooper to pick the component up, as if from a hiding place of his own devising, and be caught doing it, then I have no plan at all.
I put my ear to the keyhole but can make out nothing. Are there still guards posted? Perhaps the component has been found and the crisis is over.
Perhaps the door is unlocked and they left me to sleep? I try the handle. No such luck.
The night draws on at its own pace. I suppose by morning I will know my fate.
“What could I do?” I’m shaking now. The night is cold and the heat-lamp in this hut has been removed, presumably to keep me alert and on edge. “I don’t want to go to prison.”
“You committed a crime,” Harris answers. If I had any sense that he understood my predicament, and that he felt for my state of being, it collapses like a chain with a broken link. “You thought you could repair it with another, more serious crime?” He shakes his head. “I thought you men were supposed to be clever. But this is the action of a frightened woman. So I’d like you to tell me, now. Where is it?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
“No.”
“Too bad.” Harris opens the door and pushes me inside. “Captain,” he calls. “Could I have a moment?”
The Captain, looking puzzled, steps out. The door is closed. Hooper stares at me, open-mouthed, about to say something. I probably have less than a minute before the Captain storms back in and declares this plan to be bunkum.
I nod. “I don’t need twelve minutes. The missing component of the Bombe computer is hidden in a small cavity in a breeze-block supporting the left rear post of Hut 2. I put in there anticipating a search. I intended to dispose of it once the fuss had died down. I suppose I was foolish to think that it might.”
“Indeed you were. And, Mr Manning: God help you if you’re lying to me.”
Harris stands, and slips away smartly. Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
“Here at Bletchley? Of course I do”
“Here, now,” Harris replies firmly. “We’re not talking to everyone, you understand. I can imagine you might feel pretty sore about that, old man. I can imagine you feeling picked on.”
“So would you,” I reply tartly. Harris raises an eyebrow.
“I’ve been through worse than this,” he replies matter-of-factly. “It’s hardly my fault if you sleep in your clothes.”
I glare back at him.
He goes over to the window, unlocks it and throws it open, relishing the fresh air from outside. “Hooper’s confessed, you know.”
I put my ear down to the keyhole, but there’s nothing now. Probably still a guard outside, of course, but they’re keeping mum.
I suppose I do not believe they will hang me. They will lock me up and continue to use my brain, if they can. I wonder what they will tell the world - perhaps that I have taken my own life. That would be simplest. The few who know me would believe it.
Well, then. Not a bad existence, in prison. Removed from temptation. A kind of imposed monasticism, with plenty more problems to solve, and more mysteries to fathom.
I wonder what else I might yet unravel before I’m done?
“I suppose so,” I reply. “I’ve certainly done things I regret. Things I shouldn’t have done.”
“I see,” Harris answers. “You’ve left yourself open. To pressure. Is that what you’re saying?”
The bucket? Hardly. The bucket might do some good if I wanted to sweep up the glass afterwards, but it won’t help me smash the glass quietly.
“I can imagine how being surrounded by clever men is pretty threatening for you, Commander,” I reply with a sneer. “They don’t train you to think in the Armed Forces.”
“Talk,” Harris demands. “Talk, now. Tell me where you’ve hidden it or who you’ve passed it to. Or God help me, but I’ll take your wretched pansy body to pieces looking for it, do you understand me?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
“An accident, naturally.” I risk a smile. “That damned machine, Harris; it’s made from spare parts and string. Even these huts leak when it rains. It wouldn’t take more than one fellow to trip over a cable to shake out a component and have it roll away across the floor. Have you tried looking under the thing?”
Harris doesn’t smile. “Do you suppose we haven’t? Do you supposed we haven’t combed every inch of this place already?”
In a sudden moment I understand that his reply is a threat.
“Now,” he continues. “Are you sure there isn’t anything you want to tell me?”
If I leave the component here somewhere it should be somewhere I can rely on Hooper finding it, but no-one before Hooper. In particular.
“I’m not sure. I was asleep: I woke up when someone broke the window. I looked out to see who it was, but they were already gone.”
Harris looks at me with puzzlement. “Someone came by to break the window, and then ran off? That’s absurd. That’s utterly absurd. Admit it, Manning. You tried to escape and you couldn’t get through.”
There is nothing to be gained here. I have the component now; maybe it will be of some value tomorrow.
Let me see. There’s the bunk, a bucket, nothing else. I have my jacket but nothing in the pockets - no handkerchief, for instance.
I put my ear down to the keyhole, but there’s nothing now. Probably still a guard outside, of course, but they’re keeping mum.
I suppose my fist would do a good enough job. But I’d cut myself to ribbons, most likely. And the noise would be terrible. There must be a way of making this easier. I’m supposed to be a thief now. What would a burglar do?
“The Captain thought it was a good scheme. You’ll most likely get a promotion.”
“Let’s hope things work out,” Harris agrees darkly.
He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
I suppose I do not believe they will hang me. They will lock me up and continue to use my brain, if they can. I wonder what they will tell the world - perhaps that I have taken my own life. That would be simplest. The few who know me would believe it.
Well, then. Not a bad existence, in prison. Removed from temptation. A kind of imposed monasticism, with plenty more problems to solve, and more mysteries to fathom.
I wonder what else I might yet unravel before I’m done?
“I am what I am,” I reply. “I’m the way nature made me. But they’re going to hang me unless you help me, Hooper. Don’t let them hang me.”
“Assuming I wanted to help you,” he replies, carefully. “Which I don’t. What would I do?”
“Nothing. Almost nothing.
All you have to do is go to the back of Hut 2. There’s a breeze-block with a cavity. That’s where I’ve put it. I’ll be locked up overnight, I should think. But you can pick it up and pass it to my contact. He’ll be at the south fence around two AM."
“If you think I’ll do that then you’re crazy,” Hooper replies.
At that moment the door flies open and the Captain comes storming back inside.
Harris hustles me over to the barracks. “I hope that’s the end of it,” he mutters as he pushes me up the steps.
“Just be sure to let him out,” I reply. “And then see where he goes.”
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
I wait a few minutes, to be sure Hooper and the Captain will have gone, then try the door. It’s locked, all right. I’m not really one for picking locks. Never tried it. I don’t think I’ll be getting out that way.
“I’ve done nothing that I’m ashamed of.”
“Tell me, then,” he asks. “What’s your theory? You’re a smart fellow - as smart as they come around here, and that’s saying something. What’s your opinion on the missing component? Accident, perhaps? Or do you blame one of the other men? Hooper?”
I go over to the window and try to jimmy it open. Not much luck, but in my struggling I notice this window only backs on the thin little brook that runs down the back of the compound. Which means, if I smashed it, I might get away with no-one seeing.
From outside, I hear a voice. Hooper’s. He’s haranguing someone, for something.
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
I shift in my seat. “Not really. The boy was a simpleton, obviously. My intellectual inferior. His good opinion meant nothing to be. Harris, please do not misunderstand me. I was simply after his body.”
Harris, to his credit, doesn’t flinch. Well, perhaps not: but he’ll have nightmares of this moment tonight. I’m almost tempted to reach out and try to take his hand to worsen it for him, but I hold back.
“Go on with your confession,” he replies. I shrug.
“There’s not much else to say. I took the part from Bombe computing device. You seem to know that already. I had to. He was going to expose me if I didn’t.”
“This young man was blackmailing you over your affair?”
“Well, then,” I answer, nervously. “What would he do? Either get rid of it straight away - or if that wasn’t possible, which it probably wouldn’t be, since he’d have to arrange things with his contacts - so most likely, he’d hide it somewhere and wait, until you had the rope around my neck and he could be sure he was safe.”
“Makes sense,” Harris agrees, cautiously. I can see he’s still not entirely convinced by my tale, as well he might not be - I’ve hardly been entirely straight with him. “Which means the question is, what can we do to rat him out?”
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
“Perhaps the accomplice thought it was Hooper being kept in here. Maybe they saw the guard...”
“This is all too far-fetched,” Harris says. “I’m glad to have this back, but I need to think.”
Getting to his feet, he nods once. “You’ll have to wait a little longer, I’m afraid, Manning.”
Then he steps out of the door, muttering to himself.
“I’m fine,” I reply. “This is all some misunderstanding and the quicker we have it cleared up the better.”
“I couldn’t agree more.” And then he comes right out with it, with an accusation. “Let’s get straight to the point. Do you have the component?” Harris demands. “Do you know where it is?”
I go over to the window and try to jimmy it open. Not much luck, but in my struggling I notice this window only backs on the thin little brook that runs down the back of the compound. Which means, if I smashed it, I might get away with no-one seeing.
“No, of course not.” I push the teacup around on its base. “All I can say is, ever since I arrived here, he’s been looking to ways to bring me down a peg. I wouldn’t be surprised if he set this whole affair up just to have me court-martialled.”
“We don’t court-martial civilians,” Harris replies. “Traitors are simply hung at her Majesty’s pleasure.”
“I always meant to tell you,” I tell him. “I thought perhaps I could find out who they were. Lead you to them.”
Harris looks at me with contempt. “You wretched little man. Don’t think your tongue will be able to get you out of trouble. You’re going to pay for what you’ve done, and you’re going to pay dearly. If a single man loses his life because of your pride and your perversions then God help your eternal soul. The fact is you committed a crime.” If I had any sense that he understood my predicament, and that he felt for my state of being, it collapses like a chain with a broken link. “You thought you could repair it with another, more serious crime?” He shakes his head. “I thought you men were supposed to be clever. But this is the action of a frightened woman. So I’d like you to tell me, now. Where is it?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
“Here at Bletchley? Of course I do”
“Here, now,” Harris replies firmly. “We’re not talking to everyone, you understand. I can imagine you might feel pretty sore about that, old man. I can imagine you feeling picked on.”
“Ask the others,” I reply, leaning back. “They’ll tell you. If they haven’t already, that’s only because they’re protecting Hooper. Hoping he’ll come to his senses and stop being an idiot. I hope he does too. And if you lock him up in a freezing hut like you’ve done me, I’m sure he will.”
“We have,” Harris replies simply.
It’s all I can do not to gape.
“Hooper’s in Hut 3 with the Captain, having a similar conversation.”
“Try me. Just me and him.”
“Alone?”
“Alone.”
Harris considers it. I watch his eyes, flicking backwards and forwards over mine, like a ribbon-reader trying to load in its program.
“No. I have no idea.”
He’s talking about the missing reel from the Bombe. Russell discovered it this afternoon when the machine began producing strange results. We were all in the Hut when it happened and it had been in place when we sat down to work. The conclusions had been obvious to all four of us immediately, but had gone undiscussed, even after the empty socket was located, the wiring torn on either side.
“Lucky these things are easy to replace,” Russell had remarked, and that had been that. We had stopped work, sent out for a new part to be machined. And drunk our tea and watched each other.
“Come now,” Harris says, quite the reasonable gent. “As I told you. We’re not interviewing everyone. Only you. So. I think you can be a little more forthcoming.”
“I saw Hooper take it.”
“I see.” He is starting to lose his temper - I can see it in the creases of his face. I have seen Harris angry a few times, with lackeys and secretaries and the like, usually over things sent late or incorrectly. But never with us. With the “brains” he has always been so cautious, treating us like children. And now I see that, like a father, he wants only to smack us when we disobey him. “I wish you’d stop with your deceptions and get to the truth, man. Every minute matters.”
“Yes, I considered it. He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
“That’s not important now. What matters is what you do, this evening. All you have to do is go to the back of Hut 2. There’s a breeze-block with a cavity. That’s where I’ve put it. I’ll be locked up overnight, I should think. But you can pick it up and pass it to my contact. He’ll be at the south fence around two AM.”
“If you think I’ll do that then you’re crazy,” Hooper replies.
At that moment the door flies open and the Captain comes storming back inside.
Harris hustles me over to the barracks. “I hope that’s the end of it,” he mutters as he pushes me up the steps.
“Just be sure to let him out,” I reply. “And then see where he goes.”
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
The bunk has a solid metal frame, a blanket, a pillow, nothing more.
“So would you,” I reply tartly. Harris raises an eyebrow.
“I’ve been through worse than this,” he replies matter-of-factly. “It’s hardly my fault if you sleep in your clothes.”
I glare back at him.
He goes over to the window, unlocks it and throws it open, relishing the fresh air from outside. “Hooper’s confessed, you know.”
“Maybe I can help with that.”
“Oh, yes? And how, exactly?”
I slip off my jacket and hold it with one hand over the glass. This should do it. Then I heft the bucket - this really is quite a fiddly thing to be doing, and I need far longer arms, especially in cuffs - and take a strong swing, trying to imagine it’s Harris’ face on the other side.
The sound of the impact is muffled. With my arm still covered, I sweep out the remaining glass in the frame. I’m ready to escape. The only trouble is - when they look in on me in the morning, there will be no question what has happened. It won’t help me one jot with shifting suspicion off my back.
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
The bunk has a solid metal frame, a blanket, a pillow, nothing more.
I settle down to wait.
Night falls. The clockwork of the heavens keeps turning, whatever state I might be in. No-one can steal the components that make the sun go down and the stars come out. I watch it performing its operations. I can’t sleep.
Has Hooper taken my bait?
No, I am content. I suppose I do not believe they will hang me. They will lock me up and continue to use my brain, if they can. I wonder what they will tell the world - perhaps that I have taken my own life. That would be simplest. The few who know me would believe it.
Well, then. Not a bad existence, in prison. Removed from temptation. A kind of imposed monasticism, with plenty more problems to solve, and more mysteries to fathom.
I wonder what else I might yet unravel before I’m done?
Making a wide circuit I creep around the tent. It has plenty of other flaps and openings, tied down with Gordian complexity. But nothing afford itself to slipping the component inside.
Let me see. There’s the bunk, nothing else. I have my jacket but nothing in the pockets - no handkerchief, for instance.
Quickly, I pull it free, and slip it into the pocket of my jacket.
Where now?
“If I wanted to escape, I would have made damn sure that I could,” I tell him sternly.
“Well, I’m afraid it is going to get worse for you,” Harris replies soberly. “We followed Hooper, and he took himself neatly to bed and slept like a boy scout. Which puts us back to square one, and you firmly in the frame. And I’m afraid I don’t have time for any more games. I want you to tell me where that component is, or we will hang you as a traitor.”
He passes a hand across his eyes with a long look of despair.
“I’m going to go outside and organise a rope. That’ll take about twelve minutes. That’s how long you have to decide.”
“Ask not for whom the bell tolls!”
He stares back at me, as if were a madman and perhaps for a split second I see him shudder.
The Captain comes outside, pulling the door to. “What’s this?” he asks. “A confession? Just like that?”
“No,” the Commander admits, in a low voice. “I’m afraid not. Rather more a scheme. The idea is to let Hooper go and see what he does. If he believes we have Manning here in irons, he’ll try to shift the component.”
“If he has it.”
“Indeed.”
The Captain peers at me for a moment, like I was some kind of curious insect.
“Sometimes, I think you people are magicians,” he remarks. “Other times you seem more like witches. Very well.”
With that he opens the door to the Hut and goes back inside. The Commander uses the moment to hustle me roughly forward.
“And what was all that shouting about?” he hisses in my ear as we move towards the barracks. “Are you trying to pull something? Or just make me look incompetent?”
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
It’s useless. There’s nothing I can do but hope. I sit down on one corner of the bunk to wait.
Night falls. The clockwork of the heavens keeps turning, whatever state I might be in. No-one can steal the components that make the sun go down and the stars come out. I watch it performing its operations. I can’t sleep.
“So would you,” I reply tartly. Harris raises an eyebrow.
“I’ve been through worse than this,” he replies matter-of-factly. “It’s hardly my fault if you sleep in your clothes.”
I glare back at him.
He goes over to the window, unlocks it and throws it open, relishing the fresh air from outside. “Hooper’s confessed, you know.”
I lean back. “It’s your problem. Your security breach. So much for your careful vetting process.” I lean back in my chair and fold my arms so the way they shake will not be visible. “You’d better get on with solving it, instead of wasting your time in here with me.”
Harris harrumphs. He’s thinking it all over.
I slip off my jacket and hold it with one hand over the glass. This should do it. Then I heft the bucket - this really is quite a fiddly thing to be doing, and I need far longer arms, especially in cuffs - and take a strong swing, trying to imagine it’s Harris’ face on the other side.
The sound of the impact is muffled. With my arm still covered, I sweep out the remaining glass in the frame. I’m ready to escape. The only trouble is - when they look in on me in the morning, there will be no question what has happened. It won’t help me one jot with shifting suspicion off my back.
I go over to the window and try to jimmy it open. Not much luck, but in my struggling I notice this window only backs on the thin little brook that runs down the back of the compound. Which means, if I smashed it, I might get away with no-one seeing.
“Queen to rook two, checkmate!” I call, then laugh viciously, as if I am damning him straight to hell.
I only catch Hooper’s reaction for a moment - his eyebrow lifts in surprise and alarm. Good. If he thinks it is a threat then he just might be careless enough to go looking for what it might mean.
The Captain comes outside, pulling the door to. “What’s this?” he asks. “A confession? Just like that?”
“No,” the Commander admits, in a low voice. “I’m afraid not. Rather more a scheme. The idea is to let Hooper go and see what he does. If he believes we have Manning here in irons, he’ll try to shift the component.”
“If he has it.”
“Indeed.”
The Captain peers at me for a moment, like I was some kind of curious insect.
“Sometimes, I think you people are magicians,” he remarks. “Other times you seem more like witches. Very well.”
With that he opens the door to the Hut and goes back inside. The Commander uses the moment to hustle me roughly forward.
“And what was all that shouting about?” he hisses in my ear as we move towards the barracks. “Are you trying to pull something? Or just make me look incompetent?”
I slip off my jacket and hold it with one hand over the glass. This should do it. Then I heft my shoe by its toe, and take a strong swing, trying to imagine it’s Harris’ face on the other side.
The sound of the impact is muffled. With my arm still covered, I sweep out the remaining glass in the frame. I’m ready to escape. The only trouble is - when they look in on me in the morning, there will be no question what has happened. It won’t help me one jot with shifting suspicion off my back.
I go over to the window and try to jimmy it open. Not much luck, but in my struggling I notice this window only backs on the thin little brook that runs down the back of the compound. Which means, if I smashed it, I might get away with no-one seeing.
From outside, I hear a voice. Hooper’s. He’s haranguing someone, for something.
I look in through the door and catch Hooper’s expression. I had half expected him to be smiling be he isn’t. He looks shocked, almost hurt. “Iain,” he murmurs. “You couldn’t...”
The Captain comes outside, pulling the door to. “What’s this?” he asks. “A confession? Just like that?”
“No,” the Commander admits, in a low voice. “I’m afraid not. Rather more a scheme. The idea is to let Hooper go and see what he does. If he believes we have Manning here in irons, he’ll try to shift the component.”
“If he has it.”
“Indeed.”
The Captain peers at me for a moment, like I was some kind of curious insect.
“Sometimes, I think you people are magicians,” he remarks. “Other times you seem more like witches. Very well.”
With that he opens the door to the Hut and goes back inside. The Commander uses the moment to hustle me roughly forward.
“This scheme of yours had better come off,” he hisses in my ear. “Otherwise the Captain is going to start having men tailing me to see where I go on Saturdays.”
That is Harris returning. Our little computation here is complete.
That is the true secret of the calculating engine, and the source of its power: not in the components themselves, but in how they are wired together. The diversity of patterns and structures they can form. Much like people - it is how they connect that determines our victories and tragedies, and not their genius.
Which makes me wonder. Should I give the young man who put me in this spot to them as well as myself?
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
“You can’t do this!” I cry. “It’s murder! I demand a trial, a lawyer; for God’s sake, man, you can’t just throw me overboard, we’re not barbarians...!”
“You leave me no choice,” Harris snaps back, eyes cold as gun-metal. “You and your damn cyphers. Your damn clever problems. If men like you didn’t exist, if we could just all be straight with one another.” He gets to his feet and heads for the door. “I fear for the future of this world, with men like you in. Reich or no Reich, Mr Manning, people like you simply complicate matters.”
Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
“I’ve thought so before.”
“Let me tell you what happened this morning. Our men watching Hooper’s tent saw Hooper wake up, get dressed, clamber out of his tent and then remark with surprise as, while looking for his shoes, he stumbled on something just at the entrance of his tent.”
“Very well. I see there’s no point in covering up. You know everything anyway.”
Harris nods, and waits for me to continue.
“There was a young man, Harris. I met him in the town. A few months ago now. We got to talking - not about work. I said I was an accountant for a firm, just as I was supposed to. Although he seemed to know that wasn’t true. That got me wondering if he wasn’t one of us.”
Harris is not letting me off any more. “You seriously considered that possibility?”
Curiouser and curiouser. I nod once to Harris and slip outside into the cold morning air.
Hooper’s confession only makes sense in one fashion - if I successfully implied to him that I had him framed, but he did not unpack my little clue well enough to go looking for the component. Well, I had figured him for a more intelligent opponent, but a resignation from the game will suffice. Or perhaps he knew he would be followed if he went to check, and decided he would be doomed either way.
Of course, however, there is only one way to be certain that Harris is telling the truth, and that is to find a quiet moment and check the breeze-block at the back of Hut 2.
“Then let him think he’s off the hook. Make a show of me. And then you’ll get your man.”
Somehow, I think. But that’s the part I need to work.
Harris gets to his feet. “All right,” he says. “I should no better than to trust a clever man, but we’ll give it a go.” Then, he smiles, with all his teeth, like a wolf. “Hooper’s in Hut 3 being debriefed by the Captain. Let’s see if we can’t get his attention somehow.”
He raps on the door for the guard and gives the man a quick instruction. He returns a moment later with a cool pair of iron cuffs.
“Put ‘em up,” Harris instructs, and I do so. The metal closes around my wrists like a trap. I stand and follow Harris willingly out through the door.
But whatever I’m doing with my body, my mind is scheming. Somehow, I’m thinking, I have to get away from these men long enough to get that component behind Hut 2 and put it somewhere Hooper will go. Or, otherwise, somehow get Hooper to go there himself...
Harris marches me over to Hut 3, and gestures for the guard to stand aside. Pushing me forward, he opens the door nice and wide.
“Captain. Manning talked. If you’d step out for a moment?”
I see. Perhaps you think I bullied the man into giving himself up. Perhaps he understood my little clue far enough to know it was a threat against him, but not well enough to understand where he should look to find it. So he took the easy route out and folded. Gave me the hand.
Hardly sporting, is that it?
I put my ear to the keyhole but can make out nothing. Are there still guards posted? Perhaps, if Hooper has managed to incriminate himself, the guards have been removed?
Perhaps the door is unlocked and they left me to sleep? I try the handle. No such luck.
The night draws on at its own pace. I suppose by morning I will know my fate.
“Absolutely.”
Harris opens the door and pushes me inside. “Captain,” he calls. “Could I have a moment?”
The Captain, looking puzzled, steps out. The door is closed. Hooper stares at me, open-mouthed, about to say something. I probably have less than a minute before the Captain storms back in and declares this plan to be bunkum.
But what is a country, after all? A country is not a concept, not an ideal. Every country falls, its borders shift and move, its language disappears to be replaced by another. Neither the Reich nor the British Empire will survive forever, so what use is my loyalty to either?
I may as well, therefore, look after myself. Something I have attempted, but failed miserably, to do.
“I’m afraid we have only one option, Manning,” Harris says. “Please, man. Tell us where the component is.”
“I suppose so,” I reply. “I’ve certainly done things I regret. Things I shouldn’t have done.”
“I see,” Harris answers. “You’ve left yourself open. To pressure. Is that what you’re saying?”
Satisfied, I return the short way up the paths between the huts to the barrack block and the broken window.
It’s a little harder getting back through - the window is higher off the ground than the floor inside - but after a decent bit of jumping and hauling I manage to get my elbows up, and then one leg, and finally I collapse inside, quite winded and out breath.
“I was quite certain, after a while. After we’d been talking. He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
“I suppose I do rather.” I laugh, but Harris does not.
“This damn business gets worse and worse,” he says, talking as he goes over to unlock and throw open the window. “Hooper’s confessed, you know.”
“Yes. I suppose he was their agent. I should have realised but I didn’t. Then he threatened to tell you. I thought you would have me locked up: I couldn’t bear the thought of it. I love working here. I’ve never been so happy, so successful, anywhere before. I didn’t want to lose it.”
“So what did you do with the component?” Harris talks urgently. He grips his gloves tightly in one hand, perhaps prepared to lift them and strike if it is required. “Have you passed it to this man already? Have you left it somewhere for him to find?”
The blanket. Perfect. I scoop it up off the bed and hold it in place over the window. This should do it. Then I heft back my arm, and take a strong swing, trying to imagine it’s Harris’ face on the other side.
The sound of the impact is muffled. With my arm still covered, I sweep out the remaining glass in the frame. I’m ready to escape. The only trouble is - when they look in on me in the morning, there will be no question what has happened. It won’t help me one jot with shifting suspicion off my back.
Avoidance and delay, perhaps? The military machine never fights on a single front. They will have other approaches in play. If I move slowly enough, perhaps the situation will resolve itself some other way with my reputation reasonably intact.
Perhaps, in fact, they are playing the same game. Half an hour goes by before Commander Harris returns to the hut. He seems careful to leave the door open only for a moment, as if worried a loose word or two might slip inside.
He’s brought two cups of tea in metal mugs: he sets them down on the tabletop between us.
“Well then,” he begins, a little awkwardly. This is an unseemly situation, it would be appear. He pushes one cup halfway towards me. A small gesture of friendship. Is that enough to give me some hope?
“I’m no traitor, damn it. You know I’m not. How much work have I done here? Against the Germans? Cracking their codes? Understanding their secrets? I’ve given it my all! And you know as well as I do, if the Reich were to invade, I would be a dead man for being what I am. So please, Hooper. I’m not doing any of this lightly. But I’m in a jam!”
“Assuming I wanted to help you,” he replies, carefully. “Which I don’t. What would I do?”
“Nothing. Almost nothing.
All you have to do is go to the back of Hut 2. There’s a breeze-block with a cavity. That’s where I’ve put it. I’ll be locked up overnight, I should think. But you can pick it up and pass it to my contact. He’ll be at the south fence around two AM."
“If you think I’ll do that then you’re crazy,” Hooper replies.
At that moment the door flies open and the Captain comes storming back inside.
Harris hustles me over to the barracks. “I hope that’s the end of it,” he mutters as he pushes me up the steps.
“Just be sure to let him out,” I reply. “And then see where he goes.”
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
“The component?”
“Yes,” Harris replies levelly. “The component that went missing this afternoon. I doubt that you’ve forgotten.”
He’s talking about the missing reel from the Bombe. Russell discovered it this afternoon when the machine began producing strange results. We were all in the Hut when it happened and it had been in place when we sat down to work. The conclusions had been obvious to all four of us immediately, but had gone undiscussed, even after the empty socket was located, the wiring torn on either side.
“Lucky these things are easy to replace,” Russell had remarked, and that had been that. We had stopped work, sent out for a new part to be machined. And drunk our tea and watched each other.
“Come now,” Harris says, quite the reasonable gent. “As I told you. We’re not interviewing everyone. Only you. So. I think you can be a little more forthcoming.”
“I can’t remember.”
He draws his gun and lays it lightly on the field table.
“I’m sorry to threaten you, friend. But His Majesty needs that brain of yours, and that brain alone. There are plenty of other parts to you that our country could do better without. Now I’ll ask you again. Did you hide the component?”
“Please, Harris. You can’t understand the pressure they put me under. You can’t understand what it’s like, to be in love but be able to do nothing about it...”
“Be quiet, man. We know all about your and your sordid affairs.” The Captain curls his lip. “Don’t you know there’s a war on? Do you know the kind of place they would have sent you if it haven’t had been for that brain of yours? Don’t you think you owe it to your country to use it a little more?”
Do I, I wonder? Do I owe this country anything, this country that has spurned who and what am I since the day I became a man?
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
“Well, I’m glad his conscience finally caught up with him,” I reply dismissively.
“The Captain went back into that hut and he confessed immediately. We were so surprised we didn’t let you go.” He wrinkles his nose. “I’m rather sorry about that now, but I suppose we’ll let you go know. I suggest you have a wash.”
And with that he gestures to the doorway.
“Someone threw this in through the window over night,” I reply, and open my jacket to reveal the component from the Bombe. “I couldn’t see who, it was too dark. But I know what it is.”
He reaches out and takes it. “Well, I’ll be damned,” he murmurs. “That’s it all right. And you didn’t have it on you when we put you in here. But it can’t have been Hooper - I had men watching him all night. And there’s no-one else it could have been.”
He turns the component over in his hands, bemused.
“Very well then.” I swallow nervously, to make it look more genuine. “No. I passed it on to Hooper.”
“I see. And what did he do with it?”
The bunk has a solid metal frame, a blanket, a pillow, nothing more.
“Oh, yes?”
“Yes. For what that’s worth. There’s still the issue of the component. It hasn’t turned up. He didn’t lead us to it. I guess he figured you must have had something on him. I don’t know.”
He looks quite put out by the whole affair. He is not the kind of man to deal well with ambiguities and probabilities, far preferred the clarity of fact and falsehood.
“You mean he didn’t even hide it? Just put it in his shoe?”
“No,” Harris replies. “That isn’t really what I mean. I mean, he managed to find it, by accident, somewhere where it wasn’t the night before. And at the same time, you’re sitting here with your window broken. So, I rather think you’ve played your last hand and lost. There’s no way Hooper stole that component and then just left it lying around in the doorway of his tent. No way at all. So I came to tell you that the game is up for you.”
He nods and gets to his feet. Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
“I don’t have it any more. I passed it through the fence to my contact straight after taking it, before it was discovered to be missing. It would have been idiocy to do differently. It’s long gone, I’m afraid.”
“You fool, Manning,” Harris curses, getting quickly to his feet. “You utter fool. Do you suppose you will be any better off living under Hitler? It’s men like you who will get us all killed. Men too feeble, too weak in their hearts to stand up and take a man’s responsibility for the world. You’re happier to stay a child all your life and play with your little childish toys.”
I pause to glance around, and catch a glimpse of movement. Someone ducking around the corner of the hut. Or a canvas sheet flapping in the light breeze. Impossible to be sure.
“I saw Hooper take it.”
“Did you?” The worst of his rage is passing; he is now moving into a kind of contemptuous despair. I can imagine him wrapping up our interview soon, leaving the hut, locking the door, and dropping the key down the well in the yard. And why wouldn’t he? With my name tarnished they will not let me back to work on the Bombe - if there is the slightest smell of treachery about my name I would be lucky not be locked up for the remainder of the war. “I wish you’d stop with your deceptions and get to the truth, man. Every minute matters.”
“Ask not for whom the bell tolls!”
He stares back at me, as if were a madman and perhaps for a split second I see him shudder.
The Captain comes outside, pulling the door to. “What’s this?” he asks. “A confession? Just like that?”
“No,” the Commander admits, in a low voice. “I’m afraid not. Rather more a scheme. The idea is to let Hooper go and see what he does. If he believes we have Manning here in irons, he’ll try to shift the component.”
“If he has it.”
“Indeed.”
The Captain peers at me for a moment, like I was some kind of curious insect.
“Sometimes, I think you people are magicians,” he remarks. “Other times you seem more like witches. Very well.”
With that he opens the door to the Hut and goes back inside. The Commander uses the moment to hustle me roughly forward.
“And what was all that shouting about?” he hisses in my ear as we move towards the barracks. “Are you trying to pull something? Or just make me look incompetent?”
“Well, then,” I answer, nervously. “What would he do? Either get rid of it straight away - or if that wasn’t possible, which it probably wouldn’t be, since he’d have to arrange things with his contacts - so most likely, he’d hide it somewhere and wait, until you had the rope around my neck and he could be sure he was safe.”
“Makes sense,” Harris agrees, cautiously. I can see he’s still not certain whether he can trust me. “Which means the question is, what can we do to rat him out?”
“I know where it is.”
Harris stares back at me.
“I see.” There’s a long pause, like the endless delay between feeding in a line of cypher to the Bombe and waiting for its valves and cylinders to heat up enough to being processing. “Would you like to explain?”
I cast around the small room. There’s a bucket in one corner for emergencies - I suppose I could use that. I pick it up but it’s not very easy to heft. And the noise would be terrible. There must be a way of making this easier. I’m supposed to be a thief now. What would a burglar do?
I settle down to wait.
Night falls. The clockwork of the heavens keeps turning, whatever state I might be in. No-one can steal the components that make the sun go down and the stars come out. I watch it performing its operations. I can’t sleep.
Has Hooper taken my bait?
Work carefully? It’s difficult to work carefully when all one’s has is nothing but brute force.
“I’m not trying to do anything except save my neck.”
“Let’s hope things work out,” Harris agrees darkly.
He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
I go over to the window and try to jimmy it open. Not much luck, but in my struggling I notice this window only backs on the thin little brook that runs down the back of the compound. Which means, if I smashed it, I might get away with no-one seeing.
From outside, I hear a voice. Hooper’s. He’s haranguing someone, for something.
I go over to the window and try to jimmy it open. Not much luck, but in my struggling I notice this window only backs on the thin little brook that runs down the back of the compound. Which means, if I smashed it, I might get away with no-one seeing.
There is nothing I can do to speed up time. The night draws on at its own pace. I suppose by morning I will know my fate.
I wait a few minutes, to be sure the Commander will have gone, then try the door. It’s locked, all right. I’m not really one for picking locks. Never tried it. I don’t think I’ll be getting out that way.
From outside, I hear a voice. Hooper’s. He’s haranguing someone, for something.
I go over to the window and try to jimmy it open. Not much luck, but in my struggling I notice this window only backs on the thin little brook that runs down the back of the compound. Which means, if I smashed it, I might get away with no-one seeing.
Moving quickly and quietly, I hoist myself up onto the window-frame and worm my way outside into the freezing night air. Then I’m away, slipping down the paths between the Huts, sticking to the shadows, on my way to Hut 2.
“Yes. Something like that. It’s a very lonely life otherwise. And the work we do - well. It only makes it worse. There’s barely a moment to oneself.”
“That’s how it is in the Service,” Harris answers. “I know you didn’t sign up for it but, well. There’s plenty of other men who didn’t who are serving now, too. Now, go on with your confession.”
That gives me pause, for a moment. I hadn’t thought of it as such. But I suppose that’s what this is. I am about to admit what I did, after all.
“There’s not much else to say. I took the part from Bombe computing device. You seem to know that already. I had to. He was going to expose me if I didn’t.”
“This young man was blackmailing you over your affair?”
As Harris speaks I find myself suddenly sharply aware, as if waking from a long sleep. The table, the corrugated walls of the hut, everything seems suddenly more tangible than a moment before. Perhaps whatever it was they put in my drink is wearing off?
“I was quite certain, after a while. After we’d been talking. He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
“Please, Hooper. You don’t understand what’s at stake. They have information on me. What I’ve done. I don’t need to tell you what I’ve done, you know. I know you do. And I know you think it’s wrong, but please man, have a soul. They were going to ruin me. And the component - it’s nothing. It’s not the secret of the Bombe, or even of what we’re doing here. It’s just a part. The German’s think it’s a weapon - a missile component or a detonator. Let them have it! Please, man. Just help me.”
“Help you?” Hooper stares, as I have gone mad. “Help you? You’re a traitor, Iain. You’re a traitor. A snake in the grass. And you’re queer.”
“Hooper, I’ll make a deal with you. We both know what happened in that hut this afternoon. I know because I did it, and you know because you know you didn’t. But once this is done I’ll be rich, and I’ll split that with you. I’ll let you have the results, too. Your name on the discovery of the Bombe. And it won’t hurt the war effort - you know as well as me that the component on its own is worthless, it’s the wiring of the Bombe, the usage, that’s what’s valuable. So how about it?”
Hooper looks back at me, appalled. “You’re asking me to commit treason?”
I lean back. “It’s your problem. Your security breach. So much for your careful vetting process.” I lean back in my chair and fold my arms so the way they shake will not be visible. “You’d better get on with solving it, instead of wasting your time in here with me.”
Harris harrumphs. He’s thinking it all over.
“I still have it. Not on me, of course. The missing component of the Bombe computer is hidden in a small cavity in a breeze-block supporting the left rear post of Hut 2. I put in there anticipating a search. I intended to dispose of it once the fuss had died down. I suppose I was foolish to think that it might.”
“Indeed you were. And, Mr Manning: God help you if you’re lying to me.”
Harris stands, and slips away smartly. Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
Making a wide circuit I creep around the tent. It has plenty of other flaps and openings, tied down with Gordian complexity. But nothing afford itself to slipping the component inside.
But what is a country, after all? A country is not a concept, not an ideal. Every country falls, its borders shift and move, its language disappears to be replaced by another. Neither the Reich nor the British Empire will survive forever, so what use is my loyalty to either?
I may as well, therefore, look after myself. Something I have attempted, but failed miserably, to do.
“I’m afraid we have only one option, Manning,” Harris says. “Please, man. Tell us where the component is.”
“Yes, I considered it. He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
“The component?”
“Yes,” Harris replies levelly. “The component.”
“Well, as soon as it went missing the machine started to malfunction. We recognised the discrepancies in our results straight away...”
“Come now,” Harris says, quite the reasonable gent. “I think you can be a little more forthcoming.”
“Quite right,” I answer smartly.
He stares back at me. “Let’s get straight to the point. Do you have the component?” Harris demands. “Do you know where it is?”
“Nothing,” I reply. “You’re just the other man in the room. One of us has to get the blame.”
I get to my feet and open the door of the Hut. The Captain storms back inside and I’m quickly thrown out. Harris hustles me over to the barracks. “I hope that’s the end of it,” he mutters as he pushes me up the steps.
“Just be sure to let him out,” I reply. “And then see where he goes.”
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. Thinking back, I should have wrapped the part from the Bombe in one of his shirts before hiding it, that would have been a clever move. I really do make a terrible spy.
I slip off my jacket and hold it with one hand over the glass. This should do it. Then I heft back my arm, and take a strong swing, trying to imagine it’s Harris’ face on the other side.
The sound of the impact is muffled. With my arm still covered, I sweep out the remaining glass in the frame. I’m ready to escape. The only trouble is - when they look in on me in the morning, there will be no question what has happened. It won’t help me one jot with shifting suspicion off my back.
The bucket? Hardly. The bucket might do some good if I wanted to sweep up the glass afterwards, but it won’t help me smash the glass quietly.
“No, Harris. The young man wasn’t blackmailing me.” I take a deep breath. “It was Hooper.”
“Hooper!” Harris exclaims, in surprise.
“It’s the truth, Harris. If I’m going to jail, then so be it, but I won’t hang at Traitor’s Gate. Hooper was the one who told the boy about our work. Hooper put the boy on to me. And then, once he had me compromised, he demanded I steal the part from the machine.”
“Which you did.” Harris leans forward. “And then what? You still have it? You put it somewhere?”
“I’ve done nothing that I’m ashamed of.”
“Tell me, then,” he asks. “What’s your theory? You’re a smart fellow - as smart as they come around here, and that’s saying something. What’s your opinion on the missing component? Accident, perhaps? Or do you blame one of the other men? Hooper?”
“All right,” he declares, gruffly. “We’ll try it. But if this doesn’t work, I might just put the both of you in front of a firing squad and be done with these games. Worse things happen in time of war, you know.”
“Alone,” I add.
“Alone?”
“Alone.”
Harris considers it. I watch his eyes, flicking backwards and forwards over mine, like a ribbon-reader trying to load in its program.
I let him have his rant. He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
I put my ear down to the keyhole, but there’s nothing now. Probably still a guard outside, of course, but they’re keeping mum.
I shift in my seat. “Not really. The boy was a simpleton, obviously. My intellectual inferior. His good opinion meant nothing to be. Harris, please do not misunderstand me. I was simply after his body.”
Harris, to his credit, doesn’t flinch. Well, perhaps not: but he’ll have nightmares of this moment tonight. I’m almost tempted to reach out and try to take his hand to worsen it for him, but I hold back.
“Go on with your confession,” he replies. I shrug.
“There’s not much else to say. I took the part from Bombe computing device. You seem to know that already. I had to. He was going to expose me if I didn’t.”
“This young man was blackmailing you over your affair?”
It’s useless. There’s nothing I can do but hope. I sit down on one corner of the bunk to wait.
Night falls. The clockwork of the heavens keeps turning, whatever state I might be in. No-one can steal the components that make the sun go down and the stars come out. I watch it performing its operations. I can’t sleep.
“Well?”
“We’ll be outside the door,” Harris replies, seriously. “The first sign of any funny business and we’ll have you both on the floor in minutes. You understand? The country needs your brain, but it’s not too worried about your legs. Remember that.”
Then he gets to his feet, and opens the door, and marches me out and across the yard. The evening is drawing in and there’s a chill in the air. My mind is racing. I have one opportunity here - a moment in which to put the fear of God into Hooper and make him do something foolish to place himself in harm’s way. But how to achieve it?
“You ready?” Harris demands.
“Yes. Something like that. It’s a very lonely life otherwise. And the work we do - well. It only makes it worse. There’s barely a moment to oneself.”
“That’s how it is in the Service,” Harris answers. “I know you didn’t sign up for it but, well. There’s plenty of other men who didn’t who are serving now, too. Now, go on with your confession.”
That gives me pause, for a moment. I hadn’t thought of it as such. But I suppose that’s what this is. I am about to admit what I did, after all.
“There’s not much else to say. I took the part from Bombe computing device. You seem to know that already. I had to. He was going to expose me if I didn’t.”
“This young man was blackmailing you over your affair?”
“No. It’s not treason. It’s a trade, plain and simple.”
“If you think I’ll do that then you’re crazy,” Hooper replies.
At that moment the door flies open and the Captain comes storming back inside.
Harris hustles me over to the barracks. “I hope that’s the end of it,” he mutters as he pushes me up the steps.
“Just be sure to let him out,” I reply. “And then see where he goes.”
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
Morning comes. I’m woken by a rooster calling from the yard behind the House. I must have slept after all. I pull myself up from the bunk, shivering slightly. There is condensation on the inside of the window. I have probably given myself a chill.
The door handle turns and without knocking, Harris comes inside. “You’re up,” he remarks, and then, “You smell like an animal.”
If I leave the component here somewhere it should be somewhere I can rely on Hooper finding it, but no-one before Hooper. In particular.
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
I go over to the window and try to jimmy it open. Not much luck, but in my struggling I notice this window only backs on the thin little brook that runs down the back of the compound. Which means, if I smashed it, I might get away with no-one seeing.
Curiouser and curiouser. I nod once to Harris and slip outside into the cold morning air.
Hooper’s confession only makes sense in one way - and that’s that he believed me, and reasoned that he would be followed. So to try and uncover the component would have got him arrest, to confess was just the same. He simply caved, and threw in his hand.
Of course, however, there is only one way to be certain that Harris is telling the truth, and that is to find a quiet moment and check the breeze-block at the back of Hut 2.
I put my ear down to the keyhole, but there’s nothing now. Probably still a guard outside, of course, but they’re keeping mum.
“I broke it,” I reply. There doesn’t seem any use in trying to lie. “I thought I could escape. But I couldn’t get myself through.”
The Commander laughs. “Shame,” he remarks. “I should have left that window open and put a guard on you. Might have been interesting to see where you went. Anyway, I’m glad you’re still here, even if you do smell like a dog.”
Let me see. There’s the bunk, nothing else. I have my jacket but nothing in the pockets - no handkerchief, for instance.
I wait a few minutes, to be sure the Commander will have gone, then try the door. It’s locked, all right. I’m not really one for picking locks. Never tried it. I don’t think I’ll be getting out that way.
From outside, I hear a voice. Hooper’s. He’s haranguing someone, for something.
“Yes, perhaps. But also to ensure your name goes down in the annals of mathematics. All you have to do is go to the back of Hut 2. There’s a breeze-block with a cavity. That’s where I’ve put it. I’ll be locked up overnight, I should think. But you can pick it up and pass it to my contact. He’ll be at the south fence around two AM.”
“If you think I’ll do that then you’re crazy,” Hooper replies.
At that moment the door flies open and the Captain comes storming back inside.
Harris hustles me over to the barracks. “I hope that’s the end of it,” he mutters as he pushes me up the steps.
“Just be sure to let him out,” I reply. “And then see where he goes.”
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
Let me see. There’s the bunk, a bucket, nothing else. I have my jacket but nothing in the pockets - no handkerchief, for instance.
Let me see. There’s the bunk, a bucket, nothing else. I have my jacket but nothing in the pockets - no handkerchief, for instance.
The bucket? Hardly. The bucket might do some good if I wanted to sweep up the glass afterwards, but it won’t help me smash the glass quietly.
I let him have his rant. He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. I can only hope that Hooper bites on my baited hook. If he thinks I’m mad and bitter enough to have framed him somehow, and arrogant enough to have taunted him with a clue to where the damning evidence is hidden... if he hates me enough, and is paranoid enough, then he might unravel my little riddle and go searching around Hut 2.
Thinking back, I should have wrapped the part from the Bombe in one of his shirts before hiding it, that would have been a clever move. I really do make a terrible spy.
I have no God to make peace with. I find it difficult to believe in goodness of any kind, in a world such as this.
I have no place here. No way to fit. I am the intercept - caught, in the middle, cryptic and understood only thinly, through devices and machines.
“What could I do?” I’m shaking now. The night is cold and the heat-lamp in this hut has been removed, presumably to keep me alert and on edge. “I won’t go to prison.”
“You committed a crime,” Harris answers. If I had any sense that he understood my predicament, and that he felt for my state of being, it collapses like a chain with a broken link. “You thought you could repair it with another, more serious crime?” He shakes his head. “I thought you men were supposed to be clever. But this is the action of a frightened woman. So I’d like you to tell me, now. Where is it?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
“None of us are blameless, Harris. But you’re not my priest and I’m not yours. Now, please. Let me go. I’ll help you find this damn component, of course I will.”
He appears to consider the offer.
“Tell me, then,” he asks. “What’s your theory? You’re a smart fellow - as smart as they come around here, and that’s saying something. What’s your opinion on the missing component? Accident, perhaps? Or do you blame one of the other men?”
“I know nothing about it.” My voice is shaking with anger as I try to speak. I’m not accustomed to facing off against the Commander - against any man with a gun in his holster. “I don’t know what gives you the right to pick on me. I demand a lawyer.”
“This is time of war,” Harris answers. His tone of voice has fallen down into darkness. “And by God, if I have to shoot you to recover the component or stop it falling into the wrong hands, I will, do you understand me?”
There’s an icy silence. He’s angry. He waves an impetuous hand across the field table.
“Now, drink your tea and talk.”
“Perhaps Hooper had an accomplice. Someone else who works on site.”
Harris shakes his head, distractedly. “That doesn’t make sense,” he says. “Why go to all the trouble of stealing it only to give it back? And why like this?”
“No, I suppose not.” I push the teacup around on its base. “All I can say is, ever since I arrived here, he’s been looking to ways to bring me down a peg. I wouldn’t be surprised if he set this whole affair up just to have me court-martialled.”
“We don’t court-martial civilians,” Harris replies. “Traitors are simply hung at her Majesty’s pleasure.”
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
I shift in my seat. “Not really. The boy was a simpleton, obviously. My intellectual inferior. His good opinion meant nothing to be. Harris, please do not misunderstand me. I was simply after his body.”
Harris, to his credit, doesn’t flinch. Well, perhaps not: but he’ll have nightmares of this moment tonight. I’m almost tempted to reach out and try to take his hand to worsen it for him, but I hold back.
“Go on with your confession,” he replies. I shrug.
“There’s not much else to say. I took the part from Bombe computing device. You seem to know that already. I had to. He was going to expose me if I didn’t.”
“This young man was blackmailing you over your affair?”
“I was quite certain, after a while. After we’d been talking. He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
I pause for a moment longer. It doesn’t do to be too careless...
Then the door locks turns. The door opens. Then Jeremy - one of the guards, rather - sticks his head through the door. “I thought I heard...”
He stops. Looks for a moment. Sees the broken window. Then without a moment’s further thought he blows his shrill whistles and hustles into the hut, grabbing me roughly by my arms.
I’ll never know if I hadn’t have waited that extra moment - maybe I still could have got away. But, how far?
I’m hustled into one of the huts. Nowhere to sleep, but they’re not interested in my comfort any longer. Harris comes in with the Captain.
“So,” Harris remarks. “Looks like your little trap worked. Only it worked to show you out for what you are.”
“Yes, I considered it. He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
I shake my head violently, to say no, that’s not it, but whatever is wrong with tongue is wrong with neck too. I look across at the table at Harris’ face and realise with a start how sympathetic he is. Such a kind, generous man. How can I hold anything back from him?
I take another mouthful of the bitter, strange-tasting tea before answering.
“That’s exactly it,” I say quietly. “Harris. You understand. There are some things... which can get a man into a lot of trouble. Things one shouldn’t do.”
Harris, to his credit, doesn’t stiffen. He doesn’t lean away, or remove his hands from the table-top as though my condition might be infectious. I thought they trained them in the army to shoot my kind on sight but he does not.
Of course, he does not offer any sympathy either. He only nods, once. The understanding that has passed between us here is a mere turning cog in his calculations, with no meaning or righteousness to it.
“I’ve seen the same story a hundred times before,” he says. “A young man like yourself - clever, somewhat removed from the world. The kind that doesn’t go to parties, you might say. Who takes himself a little too seriously, perhaps. Takes things too far. Further than a man should allow a thing to go. That’s the story, isn’t it? You took things too far, and then you couldn’t take them back. And now they have you.”
“No, I suppose not.” I push the teacup around on its base. “All I can say is, ever since I arrived here, he’s been looking to ways to bring me down a peg. I wouldn’t be surprised if he set this whole affair up just to have me court-martialled.”
“We don’t court-martial civilians,” Harris replies. “Traitors are simply hung at her Majesty’s pleasure.”
“I’m no traitor,” I answer smartly.
He stares back at me. “Let’s get straight to the point. Do you have the component?” Harris demands. He is sweating slightly - of course: this is his command that’s on the line. “Do you know where it is?”
“I’m not sure. I was asleep: I woke up when someone broke the window. I looked out to see who it was, but they were already gone.”
Harris looks at me with puzzlement. “Someone came by to break the window, and then ran off? That’s absurd. That’s utterly absurd. Admit it, Manning. You tried to escape and you couldn’t get through.”
“The Captain thought it was a good scheme. You’ll most likely get a promotion.”
“Let’s hope things work out,” Harris agrees darkly.
He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
“I’m no traitor,” I answer smartly.
He stares back at me. “Let’s get straight to the point. Do you have the component?” Harris demands. “Do you know where it is?”
No. What would be the use? He will be long gone, and the name he told me is no doubt hokum. No: I was alone before in guilt, and I am thus alone again.
“We recovered the part, just where you said it was,” Harris reports, as he puts the cuffs around my wrists. “Of course, a couple of the men swear blind they searched there yesterday, so I’m afraid, what with the broken window... we’ve formed a perfectly good theory which doesn’t bode well for you.”
“I see.” It doesn’t seem worth arguing any further. “I still have the intercept in my pocket,” I remark. “Wherever we’re going, could I have a pencil?”
He looks me in the eye.
“Certainly. And one of your computing things, if I get my way. And when we’re old, and smoking pipes together in The Rag like heroes, I’ll explain to you the way that decent men have affairs. You scientists.” He drags me up to my feet. “You think you have to re-invent everything.”
With that, he hustles me out of the door and I can’t help thinking that, with a little more strategy, I could still have won the day. But too late now, of course.
Making a wide circuit I creep around the tent. It has plenty of other flaps and openings, tied down with Gordian complexity. But nothing afford itself to slipping the component inside.
“I can’t remember.”
He draws his gun and lays it lightly on the field table.
“I’m sorry to threaten you, friend. But His Majesty needs that brain of yours, and that brain alone. There are plenty of other parts to you that our country could do better without. Now I’ll ask you again. Did you hide the component?”
I put my ear down to the keyhole, but there’s nothing now. Probably still a guard outside, of course, but they’re keeping mum.
I slip off my jacket and hold it with one hand over the glass. This should do it. Then I heft my shoe by its toe, and take a strong swing, trying to imagine it’s Harris’ face on the other side.
The sound of the impact is muffled. With my arm still covered, I sweep out the remaining glass in the frame. I’m ready to escape. The only trouble is - when they look in on me in the morning, there will be no question what has happened. It won’t help me one jot with shifting suspicion off my back.
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
Well, then. To Hooper’s dorm. Time to wrap up this little game once and for all.
I creep around the outside of the Huts. All are quiet, steel-grey in the hazy moonlight; a few shining copper from arc-lamps strung from the trees. A few guards patrol the area at night but not many - after all, very few know this place even exists.
Our quarters are arranged away from the House; where we sleep is of less importance than where we work. We each have our own Hut, through some are less permanent than other’s. Hooper’s is a military issue tent: quite a large canopy, with two rooms inside and a short porch area where he insists people leave their shoes. It’s all zipped up for the night and no light shines from inside.
I hang back for a moment. If Harris is keeping to the terms of our deal then someone will be watching this place. But I can see no-one.
“I can’t remember.”
He draws his gun and lays it lightly on the field table.
“I’m sorry to threaten you, friend. But His Majesty needs that brain of yours, and that brain alone. There are plenty of other parts to you that our country could do better without. Now I’ll ask you again. Did you hide the component?”
“I was quite certain, after a while. After we’d been talking. He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
I creep forward to the tent, intent on lifting the zip to the front porch area just a little - enough to slip the component inside, and without the risk of the noise waking Hooper from his snoring.
The work is careful, and more than little fiddly - Hooper has tied the zips down on the inside, the fastidious little bastard! - but after a little work I manage to make a hole large enough for my hand.
“Yes. I suppose he was their agent. I should have realised but I didn’t. Then he threatened to tell you. I thought you would have me locked up: I couldn’t bear the thought of it. I love working here. I’ve never been so happy, so successful, anywhere before. I didn’t want to lose it.”
“So what did you do with the component?” Harris talks urgently. He grips his gloves tightly in one hand, perhaps prepared to lift them and strike if it is required. “Have you passed it to this man already? Have you left it somewhere for him to find?”
“I am what I am,” I reply. “I’m the way nature made me. But they’re going to hang me unless you help me, Hooper. Don’t let them hang me.”
“Assuming I wanted to help you,” he replies, carefully. “Which I don’t. What would I do?”
“Nothing. Almost nothing.
All you have to do is go to the back of Hut 2. There’s a breeze-block with a cavity. That’s where I’ve put it. I’ll be locked up overnight, I should think. But you can pick it up and pass it to my contact. He’ll be at the south fence around two AM."
“If you think I’ll do that then you’re crazy,” Hooper replies.
At that moment the door flies open and the Captain comes storming back inside.
Harris hustles me over to the barracks. “I hope that’s the end of it,” he mutters as he pushes me up the steps.
“Just be sure to let him out,” I reply. “And then see where he goes.”
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
“We’ll fool him. He’s waiting to be sure that I’ve been strung up for this, so let’s give him what he wants. If he sees me taken away, clapped in irons - he’ll go straight to that component and set about getting rid of it.”
Harris gets to his feet. “All right,” he says. “I should no better than to trust a clever man, but we’ll give it a go.” Then, he smiles, with all his teeth, like a wolf. “Hooper’s in Hut 3 being debriefed by the Captain. Let’s see if we can’t get his attention somehow.”
He raps on the door for the guard and gives the man a quick instruction. He returns a moment later with a cool pair of iron cuffs.
“Put ‘em up,” Harris instructs, and I do so. The metal closes around my wrists like a trap. I stand and follow Harris willingly out through the door.
But whatever I’m doing with my body, my mind is scheming. Somehow, I’m thinking, I have to get away from these men long enough to get that component behind Hut 2 and put it somewhere Hooper will go. Or, otherwise, somehow get Hooper to go there himself...
Harris marches me over to Hut 3, and gestures for the guard to stand aside. Pushing me forward, he opens the door nice and wide.
“Captain. Manning talked. If you’d step out for a moment?”
“What could I do?” I’m shaking now. The night is cold and the heat-lamp in this hut has been removed, presumably to keep me alert and on edge. “I don’t want to go to prison.”
“You committed a crime,” Harris answers. If I had any sense that he understood my predicament, and that he felt for my state of being, it collapses like a chain with a broken link. “You thought you could repair it with another, more serious crime?” He shakes his head. “I thought you men were supposed to be clever. But this is the action of a frightened woman. So I’d like you to tell me, now. Where is it?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
I look in through the door and catch Hooper’s expression. I had half expected him to be smiling be he isn’t. He looks shocked, almost hurt. “Iain,” he murmurs. “You couldn’t...”
The Captain comes outside, pulling the door to. “What’s this?” he asks. “A confession? Just like that?”
“No,” the Commander admits, in a low voice. “I’m afraid not. Rather more a scheme. The idea is to let Hooper go and see what he does. If he believes we have Manning here in irons, he’ll try to shift the component.”
“If he has it.”
“Indeed.”
The Captain peers at me for a moment, like I was some kind of curious insect.
“Sometimes, I think you people are magicians,” he remarks. “Other times you seem more like witches. Very well.”
With that he opens the door to the Hut and goes back inside. The Commander uses the moment to hustle me roughly forward.
“This scheme of yours had better come off,” he hisses in my ear. “Otherwise the Captain is going to start having men tailing me to see where I go on Saturdays.”
“Now steady on,” I reply, gesturing for him to calm himself.
“Talk,” Harris demands. “Talk, now. Tell me where you’ve hidden it or who you’ve passed it to. Or God help me, but I’ll take your wretched pansy body to pieces looking for it, do you understand me?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
“Oh, yes?”
“Yes. For what that’s worth. There’s still the issue of the component. It hasn’t turned up. He didn’t lead us to it. I guess he figured you must have had something on him. I don’t know.”
He looks quite put out by the whole affair. He is not the kind of man to deal well with ambiguities and probabilities, far preferred the clarity of fact and falsehood.
The bunk has a solid metal frame, a blanket, a pillow, nothing more.
“No. It’s not treason. It’s a trade, plain and simple.”
“If you think I’ll do that then you’re crazy,” Hooper replies.
At that moment the door flies open and the Captain comes storming back inside.
Harris hustles me over to the barracks. “I hope that’s the end of it,” he mutters as he pushes me up the steps.
“Just be sure to let him out,” I reply. “And then see where he goes.”
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
“Hooper, I’ll make a deal with you. We both know what happened in that hut this afternoon. I know because I did it, and you know because you know you didn’t. But once this is done I’ll be rich, and I’ll split that with you. I’ll let you have the results, too. Your name on the discovery of the Bombe. And it won’t hurt the war effort - you know as well as me that the component on its own is worthless, it’s the wiring of the Bombe, the usage, that’s what’s valuable. So how about it?”
Hooper looks back at me, appalled. “You’re asking me to commit treason?”
I let him have his rant. He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
“That’s not important now. What matters is what you do, this evening. All you have to do is go to the back of Hut 2. There’s a breeze-block with a cavity. That’s where I’ve put it. I’ll be locked up overnight, I should think. But you can pick it up and pass it to my contact. He’ll be at the south fence around two AM.”
“If you think I’ll do that then you’re crazy,” Hooper replies.
At that moment the door flies open and the Captain comes storming back inside.
Harris hustles me over to the barracks. “I hope that’s the end of it,” he mutters as he pushes me up the steps.
“Just be sure to let him out,” I reply. “And then see where he goes.”
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
“All right. All right. That’s exactly what happened.”
“Shame,” he remarks. “I should have left that window open and put a guard on you. Might have been interesting to see where you went. Anyway, I’m glad you’re still here, even if you do smell like a dog.”
I lift the cup and take a sip, staring him hard in the eye as I do so. He watches as I do so.
“Lapsang Souchong,” he remarks, placing his own cup down on the table with a clink. “Such a curious flavour. It might almost not be tea at all. You might say it hides a multitude of sins. As do you, isn’t that correct?”
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
Better to live on the run than die on the spit. Creeping around the edge of the compound, I make my way to the front gate. As always, it’s manned by two guards, but I slip past their box by crawling on my belly.
And then I’m on the road. Walking, not running. Silent. Free.
For the moment, at least.
The blanket. Perfect. I scoop it up off the bed and hold it in place over the window. This should do it. Then I heft back my arm, and take a strong swing, trying to imagine it’s Harris’ face on the other side.
The sound of the impact is muffled. With my arm still covered, I sweep out the remaining glass in the frame. I’m ready to escape. The only trouble is - when they look in on me in the morning, there will be no question what has happened. It won’t help me one jot with shifting suspicion off my back.
“I know nothing about it.” My voice is shaking with anger as I try to speak. I’m not accustomed to facing off against the Commander - against any man with a gun in his holster. “I don’t know what gives you the right to pick on me. I demand a lawyer.”
“This is time of war,” Harris answers. His tone of voice has fallen down into darkness. “And by God, if I have to shoot you to recover the component or stop it falling into the wrong hands, I will, do you understand me?”
There’s an icy silence. He’s angry. He waves an impetuous hand across the field table.
“Now, drink your tea and talk.”
“How should I know?” I reply, defensively. “All I can say is, ever since I arrived here, he’s been looking to ways to bring me down a peg. I wouldn’t be surprised if he set this whole affair up just to have me court-martialled.”
“We don’t court-martial civilians,” Harris replies. “Traitors are simply hung at her Majesty’s pleasure.”
“Explain what you should be doing, do you mean, rather than bullying me? Certainly.” I fold my arms. “I know where your component is because it’s obvious where your component is. That doesn’t mean I took it, just because I can figure out a simple problem, any more than it means I’m a German spy because I can crack their codes.”
“Tell me, then,” he asks. “What’s your theory? You’re a smart fellow - as smart as they come around here, and that’s saying something. What’s your opinion on the missing component? Accident, perhaps? Or do you blame one of the other men? Hooper?”
“It will. Hooper’s running scared,” I reply, hoping I sound more confident than I feel.
“I think we’ve had enough drama today already,” Harris replies. “Let’s hope for a clean kill.”
He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
In case I’m being followed, I divert around the perimeter of the compound. It’s a much longer path, and it takes me across some terrain that’s difficult to negotiate in the dark - muddy, and thick with thistles and nestles.
Still, I can be confident no-one is following, as I hear nothing. I crouch down behind the rear wall of Hut 2. The component is still there, wrapped in a tea-towel and shoved into a cavity in a breeze-block at the base of the Hut wall.
I wait a few minutes, to be sure Hooper and the Captain will have gone, then try the door. It’s locked, all right. I’m not really one for picking locks. Never tried it. I don’t think I’ll be getting out that way.
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
“Oh, yes?”
“Yes. For what that’s worth. There’s still the issue of the component. It hasn’t turned up. He didn’t lead us to it. I guess he figured you must have had something on him. I don’t know.”
He looks quite put out by the whole affair. He is not the kind of man to deal well with ambiguities and probabilities, far preferred the clarity of fact and falsehood.
If I leave the component here somewhere it should be somewhere I can rely on Hooper finding it, but no-one before Hooper. In particular.
The rest of the night passes slowly. I sleep a little, dozing mostly. Then I’m woken by the rooster in the yard. The door opens, and Harris comes in. He takes one look at the broken window and frowns with puzzlement.
“What happened there?”
I shake my head violently, to say no, that’s not it, but whatever is wrong with tongue is wrong with neck too. I look across at the table at Harris’ face and realise with a start how sympathetic he is. Such a kind, generous man. How can I hold anything back from him?
I take another mouthful of the bitter, strange-tasting tea before answering.
“That’s exactly it,” I say quietly. “Harris. You understand. There are some things... which can get a man into a lot of trouble. Things one shouldn’t do.”
Harris, to his credit, doesn’t stiffen. He doesn’t lean away, or remove his hands from the table-top as though my condition might be infectious. I thought they trained them in the army to shoot my kind on sight but he does not.
Of course, he does not offer any sympathy either. He only nods, once. The understanding that has passed between us here is a mere turning cog in his calculations, with no meaning or righteousness to it.
“I’ve seen the same story a hundred times before,” he says. “A young man like yourself - clever, somewhat removed from the world. The kind that doesn’t go to parties, you might say. Who takes himself a little too seriously, perhaps. Takes things too far. Further than a man should allow a thing to go. That’s the story, isn’t it? You took things too far, and then you couldn’t take them back. And now they have you.”
“I can imagine how being surrounded by clever men is pretty threatening for you, Commander,” I reply with a sneer. “They don’t train you to think in the Armed Forces.”
“Talk,” Harris demands. “Talk, now. Tell me where you’ve hidden it or who you’ve passed it to. Or God help me, but I’ll take your wretched pansy body to pieces looking for it, do you understand me?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
I pause a moment, trying to choose my words. To just come out and say it, after a lifetime of hiding... I wouldn’t know how. To put it into words, bluntly and directly: that is a circle I cannot square.
“I’ve done things,” I begin, uncomfortably. “I didn’t want to. I tried not to. But in the end, you understand. I had to. It felt like cutting off my own arm not to. Things I know I shouldn’t have. Things I perhaps regret.”
“I see,” Harris answers. “You’ve left yourself open. To pressure. Is that what you’re saying?”
“I don’t think Hooper could have planned this in advance. So he’d need to get word to whoever he’s working with, and that would take time. So I think he would have hidden it somewhere, and be waiting to make sure I soundly take the fall. That way, if anything goes wrong, he can arrange for the part to be conveniently re-found.”
“Makes sense,” Harris agrees, cautiously. I can see he’s still not entirely convinced by my tale, as well he might not be - I’ve hardly been entirely straight with him. “Which means the question is, what can we do to rat him out?”
“He has? I knew he would. The worm.”
“Steady now. Matters aren’t over yet. There’s still the issue of the component. It hasn’t turned up. He didn’t lead us to it. I guess he figured you must have had something on him. I don’t know.”
He looks quite put out by the whole affair. He is not the kind of man to deal well with ambiguities and probabilities, far preferred the clarity of fact and falsehood.
“I don’t think Hooper could have planned this in advance. So he’d need to get word to whoever he’s working with, and that would take time. So I think he would have hidden it somewhere, and be waiting to make sure I soundly take the fall. That way, if anything goes wrong, he can arrange for the part to be conveniently re-found.”
“Makes sense,” Harris agrees, cautiously. I can see he’s still not certain whether he can trust me. “Which means the question is, what can we do to rat him out?”
“Perhaps Hooper had an accomplice. Someone else who works on site.”
Harris shakes his head, distractedly. “That doesn’t make sense,” he says. “Why go to all the trouble of stealing it only to give it back? And why like this?”
Let me see. There’s the bunk, a bucket, nothing else. I have my jacket but nothing in the pockets - no handkerchief, for instance.
“I certainly don’t. But still, I’m surprised. I had Hooper down for a full-blown double agent, a traitor. He knows he’ll face the rope, doesn’t he?”
“Don’t ask me to explain why he did what he did,” Harris sighs. “Just be grateful that he did, and you’re now off the hook.”
Curiouser and curiouser. I nod once to Harris and slip outside into the cold morning air.
Hooper’s confession only makes sense in one fashion - if I successfully implied to him that I had him framed, but he did not unpack my little clue well enough to go looking for the component. Well, I had figured him for a more intelligent opponent, but a resignation from the game will suffice. Or perhaps he knew he would be followed if he went to check, and decided he would be doomed either way.
Of course, however, there is only one way to be certain that Harris is telling the truth, and that is to find a quiet moment and check the breeze-block at the back of Hut 2.
Curiouser and curiouser. I nod once to Harris and slip outside into the cold morning air.
Hooper’s confession only makes sense in one fashion - if I successfully implied to him that I had him framed, but he did not unpack my little clue well enough to go looking for the component. Well, I had figured him for a more intelligent opponent, but a resignation from the game will suffice. Or perhaps he knew he would be followed if he went to check, and decided he would be doomed either way.
Of course, however, there is only one way to be certain that Harris is telling the truth, and that is to find a quiet moment and check the breeze-block at the back of Hut 2.
“Well, I’m glad his conscience finally caught up with him,” I reply dismissively.
“The Captain went back into that hut and he confessed immediately. We were so surprised we didn’t let you go.” He wrinkles his nose. “I’m rather sorry about that now, but I suppose we’ll let you go know. I suggest you have a wash.”
And with that he gestures to the doorway.
That is Harris returning. Our little computation here is complete.
That is the true secret of the calculating engine, and the source of its power: not in the components themselves, but in how they are wired together. The diversity of patterns and structures they can form. Much like people - it is how they connect that determines our victories and tragedies, and not their genius.
Which makes me wonder. Should I give up my beautiful young man to them as well as myself?
I leave the cup exactly where it is. “Why?” I ask coldly. “What’s in it?”
“Lapsang Souchong,” he remarks, placing his own cup down on the table with a clink. “Such a curious flavour. It might almost not be tea at all. You might say it hides a multitude of sins. As do you, isn’t that correct?”
I shake my head violently, to say no, that’s not it, but whatever is wrong with tongue is wrong with neck too. I look across at the table at Harris’ face and realise with a start how sympathetic he is. Such a kind, generous man. How can I hold anything back from him?
I take another mouthful of the bitter, strange-tasting tea before answering.
“That’s exactly it,” I say quietly. “Harris. You understand. There are some things... which can get a man into a lot of trouble. Things one shouldn’t do.”
Harris, to his credit, doesn’t stiffen. He doesn’t lean away, or remove his hands from the table-top as though my condition might be infectious. I thought they trained them in the army to shoot my kind on sight but he does not.
Of course, he does not offer any sympathy either. He only nods, once. The understanding that has passed between us here is a mere turning cog in his calculations, with no meaning or righteousness to it.
“I’ve seen the same story a hundred times before,” he says. “A young man like yourself - clever, somewhat removed from the world. The kind that doesn’t go to parties, you might say. Who takes himself a little too seriously, perhaps. Takes things too far. Further than a man should allow a thing to go. That’s the story, isn’t it? You took things too far, and then you couldn’t take them back. And now they have you.”
I have no God to make peace with. I find it difficult to believe in goodness of any kind, in a world such as this.
But I am no traitor. At least, not to my country. To my sex, perhaps. But how could I support the Reich? If it were to come to power, I would be worse off than under the already dire circumstances of my existence.
I have no place here. No way to fit. I am the intercept - caught, in the middle, cryptic and understood only thinly, through devices and machines.
I put my ear down to the keyhole, but there’s nothing now. Probably still a guard outside, of course, but they’re keeping mum.
“Well, I’m glad his conscience finally caught up with him,” I reply dismissively.
“The Captain went back into that hut and he confessed immediately. We were so surprised we didn’t let you go.” He wrinkles his nose. “I’m rather sorry about that now, but I suppose we’ll let you go know. I suggest you have a wash.”
And with that he gestures to the doorway.
From inspiration - or desperation, I am not certain - a simple approach occurs to me. I toss the component away into the bushes behind Hooper’s tent and return to my barrack, wishing myself a long sleep followed by a morning, free of this business.
Satisfied, I return the short way up the paths between the huts to the barrack block and the broken window.
It’s a little harder getting back through - the window is higher off the ground than the floor inside - but after a decent bit of jumping and hauling I manage to get my elbows up, and then one leg, and finally I collapse inside, quite winded and out breath.
“Tell Hooper I’ve confessed. In fact, better yet, let him see you march me off in handcuffs. Then let him go, and watch him. Ten to one he’ll go straight to wherever he’s hidden that component and his game will be up.”
Harris nods slowly, chewing over the idea. It isn’t a bad plan even - except, of course, Hooper has not hidden the component, and won’t lead them anywhere. But that’s a problem I might be able to solve once I’m out of this place; and once they’re busy, dogging Hooper’s steps from hut to hut.
“It’s an interesting idea,” the Commander muses. “But I’m not so sure he’ll be that stupid. And if he’s already passed the part on, well, the whole thing will only be a waste of time.”
“Hooper, I’ll make a deal with you. We both know what happened in that hut this afternoon. I know because I did it, and you know because you know you didn’t. But once this is done I’ll be rich, and I’ll split that with you. I’ll let you have the results, too. Your name on the discovery of the Bombe. And it won’t hurt the war effort - you know as well as me that the component on its own is worthless, it’s the wiring of the Bombe, the usage, that’s what’s valuable. So how about it?”
Hooper looks back at me, appalled. “You’re asking me to commit treason?”
I nod. “I don’t need twelve minutes. The missing component of the Bombe computer is hidden in a small cavity in a breeze-block supporting the left rear post of Hut 2. I put in there anticipating a search. I intended to pass it to Hooper once the fuss had died down. I suppose I was foolish to think that it might.”
“Indeed you were. And, Mr Manning: God help you if you’re lying to me.”
Harris stands, and slips away smartly. Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
“So he’s an idiot, and he hid it in his shoe.”
“No,” Harris replies. “That isn’t really what I mean. I mean, he managed to find it, by accident, somewhere where it wasn’t the night before. And at the same time, you’re sitting here with your window broken. So, I rather think you’ve played your last hand and lost. There’s no way Hooper stole that component and then just left it lying around in the doorway of his tent. No way at all. So I came to tell you that the game is up for you.”
He nods and gets to his feet. Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
I say nothing. It’s true, isn’t it? I can’t deny that I know there is a world out there, a complicated world of pain and suffering. And I can’t deny that I don’t think about it a moment longer than I have to. What use is thinking on a problem that cannot be solved? It is precisely our ability to avoid such endless spirals that makes us human and not machine.
“God have mercy on your soul,” Harris says finally, as he gets to his feet and heads for the door. “I fear no-one else will.” Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
“Please, Hooper. You don’t understand what’s at stake. They have information on me. What I’ve done. I don’t need to tell you what I’ve done, you know. I know you do. And I know you think it’s wrong, but please man, have a soul. They were going to ruin me. And the component - it’s nothing. It’s not the secret of the Bombe, or even of what we’re doing here. It’s just a part. The German’s think it’s a weapon - a missile component or a detonator. Let them have it! Please, man. Just help me.”
“Help you?” Hooper stares, as I have gone mad. “Help you? You’re a traitor, Iain. You’re a traitor. A snake in the grass. And you’re queer.”
“When you have eliminated the impossible...” I begin, but Harris cuts me off.
“We are left with two possibilities, quite clearly. You, or Hooper.” The Commander pauses to smooth down his moustache. “Hooper’s in Hut 3 with the Captain, having a similar conversation.”
I put my ear down to the keyhole, but there’s nothing now. Probably still a guard outside, of course, but they’re keeping mum.
I go over to the window and try to jimmy it open. Not much luck, but in my struggling I notice this window only backs on the thin little brook that runs down the back of the compound. Which means, if I smashed it, I might get away with no-one seeing.
I leave the cup exactly where it is. “Why?” I ask coldly. “What’s in it?”
“Lapsang Souchong,” he remarks, placing his own cup down on the table with a clink. “Such a curious flavour. It might almost not be tea at all. You might say it hides a multitude of sins. As do you, isn’t that correct?”
I wait a few minutes, to be sure the Commander will have gone, then try the door. It’s locked, all right. I’m not really one for picking locks. Never tried it. I don’t think I’ll be getting out that way.
From outside, I hear a voice. Hooper’s. He’s haranguing someone, for something.
“Then you know I’m right. You knew all along. Why did you threaten me?”
“We don’t know anything, except that we have a traitor, holding the fate of the country in their hands. No-one here is in the business of guessing, you know that. Our business is to decode. To get to the bottom of whatever’s going on. You’ve not placed yourself beyond suspicion and until you do so...” Harris shrugs. “I’m afraid I have fewer and fewer choices as time goes on. If that component has left these grounds then every minute is critical.”
“I don’t know.”
“You can do better than that. Remember, there’s a hangman’s noose waiting for traitors.”
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
“Or be thrown into the river.”
“Hmm.” Harris chews his moustache thoughtfully. “Well, that would put us in a spot, seeing as how we’d never know for certain. We’d have to be ready to change our whole approach just in case the part had got through to the Germans. I don’t mind telling you, this is a disaster, this whole thing. What I want is to find that little bit of mechanical trickery anywhere. I don’t care where. In your luncheon box or under Hooper’s pillow, whatever. Just somewhere, and within the grounds of this place.”
“I’m no traitor, damn it. You know I’m not. How much work have I done here? Against the Germans? Cracking their codes? Understanding their secrets? I’ve given it my all! And you know as well as I do, if the Reich were to invade, I would be a dead man for being what I am. So please, Hooper. I’m not doing any of this lightly. But I’m in a jam!”
“Assuming I wanted to help you,” he replies, carefully. “Which I don’t. What would I do?”
“Nothing. Almost nothing.
All you have to do is go to the back of Hut 2. There’s a breeze-block with a cavity. That’s where I’ve put it. I’ll be locked up overnight, I should think. But you can pick it up and pass it to my contact. He’ll be at the south fence around two AM."
“If you think I’ll do that then you’re crazy,” Hooper replies.
At that moment the door flies open and the Captain comes storming back inside.
Harris hustles me over to the barracks. “I hope that’s the end of it,” he mutters as he pushes me up the steps.
“Just be sure to let him out,” I reply. “And then see where he goes.”
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
“I still have it. Not on me, of course. The missing component of the Bombe computer is hidden in a small cavity in a breeze-block supporting the left rear post of Hut 2. I put in there anticipating a search. I intended to dispose of it once the fuss had died down. I suppose I was foolish to think that it might.”
“Indeed you were. And, Mr Manning: God help you if you’re lying to me.”
Harris stands, and slips away smartly. Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
“There’s nothing to explain,” I reply stiffly. “I know where your component is because it’s obvious where your component is. That doesn’t mean I took it, just because I can figure out a simple problem, any more than it means I’m a German spy because I can crack their codes.”
“Tell me, then,” he asks. “What’s your theory? You’re a smart fellow - as smart as they come around here, and that’s saying something. What’s your opinion on the missing component? Accident, perhaps? Or do you blame one of the other men?”
“No, I suppose not.” I push the teacup around on its base. “All I can say is, ever since I arrived here, he’s been looking to ways to bring me down a peg. I wouldn’t be surprised if he set this whole affair up just to have me court-martialled.”
“We don’t court-martial civilians,” Harris replies. “Traitors are simply hung at her Majesty’s pleasure.”
“I’ve done nothing that I’m ashamed of.”
“Tell me, then,” he asks. “What’s your theory? You’re a smart fellow - as smart as they come around here, and that’s saying something. What’s your opinion on the missing component? Accident, perhaps? Or do you blame one of the other men?”
“I was quite certain, after a while. After we’d been talking. He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
“It’s not that bad. I can still fix it.”
Harris shakes his head. “This isn’t a problem to be cracked. This isn’t a puzzle. I’m sorry, but this is bigger than you now. Look. You can go to prison for what you’ve done, or we can change your identity and move you somewhere where your... indiscretions... can’t hurt anyone any more. But right now none of that matters. What happens to you, doesn’t matter. All that matters is where that component is. So I’d like you to tell me, now. Where is it?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
“So would you,” I reply tartly. Harris raises an eyebrow.
“I’ve been through worse than this,” he replies matter-of-factly. “It’s hardly my fault if you sleep in your clothes.”
I glare back at him.
He goes over to the window, unlocks it and throws it open, relishing the fresh air from outside. “Hooper’s confessed, you know.”
“Then you’d better get searching,” I reply, tiring of his complaining. A war is a war, you have to expect an enemy. “It’s your problem. Your security breach. So much for your careful vetting process.” I lean back in my chair and fold my arms so the way they shake will not be visible. “You’d better get on with solving it, instead of wasting your time in here with me.”
Harris harrumphs. He’s thinking it all over.
“That’s exactly it,” I say quietly. “Harris. You understand. There are some things... which can get a man into a lot of trouble. Things one shouldn’t do.”
Harris, to his credit, doesn’t stiffen. He doesn’t lean away, or remove his hands from the table-top as though my condition might be infectious. I thought they trained them in the army to shoot my kind on sight but he does not.
Of course, he does not offer any sympathy either. He only nods, once. The understanding that has passed between us here is a mere turning cog in his calculations, with no meaning or righteousness to it.
“I’ve seen the same story a hundred times before,” he says. “A young man like yourself - clever, somewhat removed from the world. The kind that doesn’t go to parties, you might say. Who takes himself a little too seriously, perhaps. Takes things too far. Further than a man should allow a thing to go. That’s the story, isn’t it? You took things too far, and then you couldn’t take them back. And now they have you.”
The bucket? Hardly. The bucket might do some good if I wanted to sweep up the glass afterwards, but it won’t help me smash the glass quietly.
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
“There’s nothing to explain,” I reply stiffly. “I know where your component is because it’s obvious where your component is. That doesn’t mean I took it, just because I can figure out a simple problem, any more than it means I’m a German spy because I can crack their codes.”
“Tell me, then,” he asks. “What’s your theory? You’re a smart fellow - as smart as they come around here, and that’s saying something. What’s your opinion on the missing component? Accident, perhaps? Or do you blame one of the other men? Hooper?”
I say quiet, listening, not sure how this will go.
“In case I’m not making myself clear,” Harris continues, “I mean, he managed to find it, by accident, somewhere where it wasn’t the night before. And at the same time, you’re sitting here with your window broken. So, I rather think you’ve played your last hand and lost. There’s no way Hooper stole that component and then just left it lying around in the doorway of his tent. No way at all. So I came to tell you that the game is up for you.”
He nods and gets to his feet. Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
“Yes. Probably under my bunk.”
Harris smiles wryly. “We’ll know that for a fake, then. We’ve looked there already. I don’t mind telling you, this is a disaster, this whole thing. What I want is to find that little bit of mechanical trickery anywhere. I don’t care where. In your luncheon box or under Hooper’s pillow, whatever. Just somewhere, and within the grounds of this place.”
I peer out of the window, but it looks out onto the little brook at the back of the compound, with no view of the other huts or the House. Who knows if there are men up, searching the base of Hut 2, following one another with flashlights...
The night draws on at its own pace. I suppose by morning I will know my fate.
“I climbed out of the window overnight,” I explain. “I went and got this from where it was hidden, and brought it back here.”
“This is all too far-fetched,” Harris says. “I’m glad to have this back, but I need to think.”
Getting to his feet, he nods once. “You’ll have to wait a little longer, I’m afraid, Manning.”
Then he steps out of the door, muttering to himself.
The bucket? Hardly. The bucket might do some good if I wanted to sweep up the glass afterwards, but it won’t help me smash the glass quietly.
“Here at Bletchley? Of course I do”
“Here, now,” Harris replies firmly. “We’re not talking to everyone, you understand. I can imagine you might feel pretty sore about that, old man. I can imagine you feeling picked on.”
I settle down to wait.
Night falls. The clockwork of the heavens keeps turning, whatever state I might be in. No-one can steal the components that make the sun go down and the stars come out. I watch it performing its operations. I can’t sleep.
Has Hooper taken my bait?
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
“You treated me like vermin. Like something abhorrent.”
“You are something abhorrent.”
“I wasn’t. Not when I came here. And I won’t be, once you’re gone.”
I get to my feet and open the door of the Hut. The Captain storms back inside and I’m quickly thrown out. Harris hustles me over to the barracks. “I hope that’s the end of it,” he mutters as he pushes me up the steps.
“Just be sure to let him out,” I reply. “And then see where he goes.”
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. Thinking back, I should have wrapped the part from the Bombe in one of his shirts before hiding it, that would have been a clever move. I really do make a terrible spy.
“Quite right,” I answer smartly.
He stares back at me. “Let’s get straight to the point. Do you have the component?” Harris demands. He is sweating slightly - of course: this is his command that’s on the line. “Do you know where it is?”
The bunk has a solid metal frame, a blanket, a pillow, nothing more.
“Right now, I think you take that role, Harris,” I reply coolly.
“Very droll,” he replies. “Let me tell you what happened this morning, and see if it takes the smile off your face. Our men watching Hooper’s tent saw Hooper wake up, get dressed, clamber out of his tent and then remark with surprise as, while looking for his shoes, he stumbled on something just at the entrance of his tent.”
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
“The component?”
“Yes,” Harris replies levelly. “The component.”
“Well, as soon as it went missing the machine started to malfunction. We recognised the discrepancies in our results straight away...”
“Come now,” Harris says, quite the reasonable gent. “I think you can be a little more forthcoming.”
“I was quite certain, after a while. After we’d been talking. He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
I wait a few minutes, to be sure Hooper and the Captain will have gone, then try the door. It’s locked, all right. I’m not really one for picking locks. Never tried it. I don’t think I’ll be getting out that way.
I open my mouth to disagree, but somehow the words will not come out. It is like Harris has taken a screwdriver to the sides of my jaw. My tongue feels thick and heavy.
“I suppose so,” I reply. “I’ve certainly done things I regret. Things I shouldn’t have done.”
“I see,” Harris answers. “You’ve left yourself open. To pressure. Is that what you’re saying?”
I wait a few minutes, to be sure the Commander will have gone, then try the door. It’s locked, all right. I’m not really one for picking locks. Never tried it. I don’t think I’ll be getting out that way.
From outside, I hear a voice. Hooper’s. He’s haranguing someone, for something.
“Please, Hooper. You don’t understand what’s at stake. They have information on me. What I’ve done. I don’t need to tell you what I’ve done, you know. I know you do. And I know you think it’s wrong, but please man, have a soul. They were going to ruin me. And the component - it’s nothing. It’s not the secret of the Bombe, or even of what we’re doing here. It’s just a part. The German’s think it’s a weapon - a missile component or a detonator. Let them have it! Please, man. Just help me.”
“Help you?” Hooper stares, as I have gone mad. “Help you? You’re a traitor, Iain. You’re a traitor. A snake in the grass. And you’re queer.”
“I’m looking forward to having a wash and a change of clothes; which should make a little less evil to be around.”
“Very droll,” he replies. “Let me tell you what happened this morning, and see if it takes the smile off your face. Our men watching Hooper’s tent saw Hooper wake up, get dressed, clamber out of his tent and then remark with surprise as, while looking for his shoes, he stumbled on something just at the entrance of his tent.”
“Tell Hooper I’ve confessed. In fact, better yet, let him see you march me off in handcuffs. Then let him go, and watch him. Ten to one he’ll go straight to wherever he’s hidden that component and his game will be up.”
Harris nods slowly, chewing over the idea. It isn’t a bad plan even - except, of course, Hooper has not hidden the component, and won’t lead them anywhere. But that’s a problem I might be able to solve once I’m out of this place; and once they’re busy, dogging Hooper’s steps from hut to hut.
“It’s an interesting idea,” the Commander muses. “But I’m not so sure he’ll be that stupid. And if he’s already passed the part on, well, the whole thing will only be a waste of time.”
I open my mouth to disagree, but somehow the words will not come out. It is like Harris has taken a screwdriver to the sides of my jaw. My tongue feels thick and heavy.
“I suppose so,” I reply. “I’ve certainly done things I regret. Things I shouldn’t have done.”
“I see,” Harris answers. “You’ve left yourself open. To pressure. Is that what you’re saying?”
It’s useless. There’s nothing I can do but hope. I sit down on one corner of the bunk to wait.
Night falls. The clockwork of the heavens keeps turning, whatever state I might be in. No-one can steal the components that make the sun go down and the stars come out. I watch it performing its operations. I can’t sleep.
The bucket? Hardly. The bucket might do some good if I wanted to sweep up the glass afterwards, but it won’t help me smash the glass quietly.
I toss the component away into the bushes behind Hooper’s tent and return to my barrack, wishing myself a long sleep followed by a morning, free of this business.
Satisfied, I return the short way up the paths between the huts to the barrack block and the broken window.
It’s a little harder getting back through - the window is higher off the ground than the floor inside - but after a decent bit of jumping and hauling I manage to get my elbows up, and then one leg, and finally I collapse inside, quite winded and out breath.
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
The weight of the Bombe component safely in my jacket, I return the short way up the paths between the huts to the barrack block and the broken window.
It’s a little harder getting back through - the window is higher off the ground than the floor inside - but after a decent bit of jumping and hauling I manage to get my elbows up, and then one leg, and finally I collapse inside, quite winded and out breath.
“Very well then.” I swallow nervously, to make it look more genuine. “No. I passed it on to Hooper.”
“I see. And what did he do with it?”
The bunk has a solid metal frame, a blanket, a pillow, nothing more.
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
“Tell Hooper I’ve confessed. In fact, better yet, let him see you march me off in handcuffs. Then let him go, and watch him. Ten to one he’ll go straight to wherever he’s hidden that component and his game will be up.”
Harris nods slowly, chewing over the idea. It isn’t a bad plan even - except, of course, Hooper has not hidden the component, and won’t lead them anywhere. But that’s a problem I might be able to solve once I’m out of this place; and once they’re busy, dogging Hooper’s steps from hut to hut.
“It’s an interesting idea,” the Commander muses. “But I’m not so sure he’ll be that stupid. And if he’s already passed the part on, well, the whole thing will only be a waste of time.”
It’s no good. That’s only half a solution. I couldn’t be happy with that.
“I know nothing about it.” My voice is shaking with anger as I try to speak. I’m not accustomed to facing off against the Commander - against any man with a gun in his holster. “I don’t know what gives you the right to pick on me. I demand a lawyer.”
“This is time of war,” Harris answers. His tone of voice has fallen down into darkness. “And by God, if I have to shoot you to recover the component or stop it falling into the wrong hands, I will, do you understand me?”
There’s an icy silence. I’ve cracked him a little at least. He’s angry. He waves an impetuous hand across the field table.
“Now, drink your tea and talk.”
“I know nothing about it.” My voice is shaking with anger as I try to speak. I’m not accustomed to facing off against the Commander - against any man with a gun in his holster. “I don’t know what gives you the right to pick on me. I demand a lawyer.”
“This is time of war,” Harris answers. His tone of voice has fallen down into darkness. “And by God, if I have to shoot you to recover the component or stop it falling into the wrong hands, I will, do you understand me?”
There’s an icy silence. He’s angry. He waves an impetuous hand across the field table.
“Now, drink your tea and talk.”
“I’d be happy to help,” I answer, sympathetically, leaning forward across the table. “I’m sure there’s something I could do.”
“Like what, exactly?”
“An accident, naturally.” I risk a smile. “That damned machine, Harris; it’s made from spare parts and string. Even these huts leak when it rains. It wouldn’t take more than one fellow to trip over a cable to shake out a component and have it roll away across the floor. Have you tried looking under the thing?”
Harris doesn’t smile. “Do you suppose we haven’t? Do you supposed we haven’t combed every inch of this place already?”
In a sudden moment I understand that his reply is a threat.
“Now,” he continues. “Are you sure there isn’t anything you want to tell me?”
“Awkward,” I reply, sipping at my tea as if we were the best of friends.
His gaze is unexpressive: I’ve seen Harris broad and full of laughter, but today he is rigid, as much part of the military machine as the devices in Hut 5.
“I’m sorry to pull you up so roughly,” he says. “But you know why you’re here, of course.”
“I suppose so,” I reply. “I’ve certainly done things I regret. Things I shouldn’t have done.”
“I see,” Harris answers. “You’ve left yourself open. To pressure. Is that what you’re saying?”
Morning comes with the call of a rooster from the yard of the House. I must have slept after all. I pull myself up off the bunk, shivering slightly. There is condensation on the inside of the window. I have probably given myself a chill.
It’s not long after that Harris enters the hut. He closes the door behind him, careful as ever, then takes a chair across from me.
“You smell like a dog,” he remarks.
“Explain what you should be doing, do you mean, rather than bullying me? Certainly.” I fold my arms. “I know where your component is because it’s obvious where your component is. That doesn’t mean I took it, just because I can figure out a simple problem, any more than it means I’m a German spy because I can crack their codes.”
“Tell me, then,” he asks. “What’s your theory? You’re a smart fellow - as smart as they come around here, and that’s saying something. What’s your opinion on the missing component? Accident, perhaps? Or do you blame one of the other men? Hooper?”
I let him have his rant. He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
“Very well then.” I swallow nervously, to make it look more genuine. “No. I passed it on to Hooper.”
“I see. And what did he do with it?”
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
“I can imagine how being surrounded by clever men is pretty threatening for you, Commander,” I reply with a sneer. “They don’t train you to think in the Armed Forces.”
“Talk,” Harris demands. “Talk, now. Tell me where you’ve hidden it or who you’ve passed it to. Or God help me, but I’ll take your wretched pansy body to pieces looking for it, do you understand me?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
“He’s petty enough, certainly. He’s a creep.” I wipe a hand across my forehead. “All I can say is, ever since I arrived here, he’s been looking to ways to bring me down a peg. I wouldn’t be surprised if he set this whole affair up just to have me court-martialled.”
“We don’t court-martial civilians,” Harris replies. “Traitors are simply hung at her Majesty’s pleasure.”
I peer out of the window, but it looks out onto the little brook at the back of the compound, with no view of the other huts or the House. Who knows if there are men up, searching the base of Hut 2, following one another with flashlights...
The night draws on at its own pace. I suppose by morning I will know my fate.
“For God’s sake, man, what do you have to lose?”
“We’ll be outside the door,” Harris replies, seriously. “The first sign of any funny business and we’ll have you both on the floor in minutes. You understand? The country needs your brain, but it’s not too worried about your legs. Remember that.”
Then he gets to his feet, and opens the door, and marches me out and across the yard. The evening is drawing in and there’s a chill in the air. My mind is racing. I have one opportunity here - a moment in which to put the fear of God into Hooper and make him do something foolish to place himself in harm’s way. But how to achieve it?
“You ready?” Harris demands.
“No. I have no idea.”
He’s talking about the missing reel from the Bombe. Russell discovered it this afternoon when the machine began producing strange results. We were all in the Hut when it happened and it had been in place when we sat down to work. The conclusions had been obvious to all four of us immediately, but had gone undiscussed, even after the empty socket was located, the wiring torn on either side.
“Lucky these things are easy to replace,” Russell had remarked, and that had been that. We had stopped work, sent out for a new part to be machined. And drunk our tea and watched each other.
“Come now,” Harris says, quite the reasonable gent. “As I told you. We’re not interviewing everyone. Only you. So. I think you can be a little more forthcoming.”
“If I wanted to escape, I would have made damn sure that I could,” I tell him sternly.
“Well, I’m afraid it is going to get worse for you,” Harris replies soberly. “We followed Hooper, and he took himself neatly to bed and slept like a boy scout. Which puts us back to square one, and you firmly in the frame. And I’m afraid I don’t have time for any more games. I want you to tell me where that component is, or we will hang you as a traitor.”
He passes a hand across his eyes with a long look of despair.
“I’m going to go outside and organise a rope. That’ll take about twelve minutes. That’s how long you have to decide.”
Work carefully? It’s difficult to work carefully when all one’s has is a shoe.
“I don’t know what gives you the right to pick on me. I demand a lawyer.”
“This is time of war,” Harris answers. His tone of voice has fallen down into darkness. “And by God, if I have to shoot you to recover the component or stop it falling into the wrong hands, I will, do you understand me?”
There’s an icy silence. He’s angry. He waves an impetuous hand across the field table.
“Now, drink your tea and talk.”
“All right,” he declares, gruffly. “We’ll try it. But if this doesn’t work, I might just put the both of you in front of a firing squad and be done with these games. Worse things happen in time of war, you know.”
“Alone,” I add.
“Alone?”
“Alone.”
Harris considers it. I watch his eyes, flicking backwards and forwards over mine, like a ribbon-reader trying to load in its program.
I go over to the window and try to jimmy it open. Not much luck, but in my struggling I notice this window only backs on the thin little brook that runs down the back of the compound. Which means, if I smashed it, I might get away with no-one seeing.
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
“I know nothing about it.” My voice is shaking with anger as I try to speak. I’m not accustomed to facing off against the Commander - against any man with a gun in his holster. “I don’t know what gives you the right to pick on me. I demand a lawyer.”
“This is time of war,” Harris answers. His tone of voice has fallen down into darkness. “And by God, if I have to shoot you to recover the component or stop it falling into the wrong hands, I will, do you understand me?”
There’s an icy silence. I’ve cracked him a little at least. He’s angry at my slippery answers. He waves an impetuous hand across the field table.
“Now, drink your tea and talk.”
I go over to the window and try to jimmy it open. Not much luck, but in my struggling I notice this window only backs on the thin little brook that runs down the back of the compound. Which means, if I smashed it, I might get away with no-one seeing.
“I was quite certain, after a while. After we’d been talking. He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
“We’re still in ear-shot if they let Hooper go. Best get us inside and then we can talk, if we must.”
“I’ve had enough of your voice for one day,” Harris replies grimly. He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
“All right. I’ll tell you what happened.” And never mind my shame, I think.
“I can imagine how it starts,” he growls.
“There was a young man, Harris. I met him in the town. A few months ago now. We got to talking - not about work, you understand. I said I was an accountant for a firm, just as I was supposed to. Although he seemed to know that wasn’t true. That got me wondering if he wasn’t one of us.”
Harris is not letting me off any more. “You seriously considered that possibility?”
I have no God to make peace with. I find it difficult to believe in goodness of any kind, in a world such as this.
But I am no traitor. At least, not to my country. To my sex, perhaps. But how could I support the Reich? If it were to come to power, I would be worse off than under the already dire circumstances of my existence.
I have no place here. No way to fit. I am the intercept - caught, in the middle, cryptic and understood only thinly, through devices and machines.
“Then let him think he’s off the hook. Make a show of me. And then you’ll get your man.”
Somehow, I think. But that’s the part I need to work.
Harris gets to his feet. “All right,” he says. “I should no better than to trust a clever man, but we’ll give it a go.” Then, he smiles, with all his teeth, like a wolf. “Especially since this is a plan that involves keeping you in handcuffs. I don’t see what I have to lose.”
He raps on the door for the guard and gives the man a quick instruction. He returns a moment later with a cool pair of iron cuffs.
“Put ‘em up,” Harris instructs, and I do so. The metal closes around my wrists like a trap. I stand and follow Harris willingly out through the door.
But whatever I’m doing with my body, my mind is scheming. Somehow, I’m thinking, I have to get away from these men long enough to get that component behind Hut 2 and put it somewhere Hooper will go. Or, otherwise, somehow get Hooper to go there himself...
Harris marches me over to Hut 3, and gestures for the guard to stand aside. Pushing me forward, he opens the door nice and wide.
“Captain. Manning talked. If you’d step out for a moment?”
I creep forward to the tent, intent on lifting the zip to the front porch area just a little - enough to slip the component inside, and without the risk of the noise waking Hooper from his snoring.
The work is careful, and more than little fiddly - Hooper has tied the zips down on the inside, the fastidious little bastard! - but after a little work I manage to make a hole large enough for my hand.
“No. I have no idea.”
He’s talking about the missing reel from the Bombe. Russell discovered it this afternoon when the machine began producing strange results. We were all in the Hut when it happened and it had been in place when we sat down to work. The conclusions had been obvious to all four of us immediately, but had gone undiscussed, even after the empty socket was located, the wiring torn on either side.
“Lucky these things are easy to replace,” Russell had remarked, and that had been that. We had stopped work, sent out for a new part to be machined. And drunk our tea and watched each other.
“Come now,” Harris says, quite the reasonable gent. “As I told you. We’re not interviewing everyone. Only you. So. I think you can be a little more forthcoming.”
It’s no good. Nothing I can do will be any less than obvious - something appearing where something was not there before. The men watching Hooper will know it is a deception and Hooper’s protestations will be taken at face value.
If I can’t find a way for Hooper to pick the component up, as if from a hiding place of his own devising, and be caught doing it, then I have no plan at all.
“You want me to tell you what happened? You’ll be disgusted, I’m quite sure.”
“I can imagine how it starts,” he growls.
“There was a young man, Harris. I met him in the town. A few months ago now. We got to talking - not about work. I said I was an accountant for a firm, just as I was supposed to. Although he seemed to know that wasn’t true. That got me wondering if he wasn’t one of us.”
Harris is not letting me off any more. “You seriously considered that possibility?”
“I was quite certain, after a while. After we’d been talking. He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
The blanket. Perfect. I scoop it up off the bed and hold it in place over the window. This should do it. Then I heft the bucket - this really is quite a fiddly thing to be doing, and I need far longer arms, especially in cuffs - and take a strong swing, trying to imagine it’s Harris’ face on the other side.
The sound of the impact is muffled. With my arm still covered, I sweep out the remaining glass in the frame. I’m ready to escape. The only trouble is - when they look in on me in the morning, there will be no question what has happened. It won’t help me one jot with shifting suspicion off my back.
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
“I know nothing about it.” My voice is shaking with anger as I try to speak. I’m not accustomed to facing off against the Commander - against any man with a gun in his holster. “I don’t know what gives you the right to pick on me. I demand a lawyer.”
“This is time of war,” Harris answers. His tone of voice has fallen down into darkness. “And by God, if I have to shoot you to recover the component or stop it falling into the wrong hands, I will, do you understand me?”
There’s an icy silence. He’s angry. He waves an impetuous hand across the field table.
“Now, drink your tea and talk.”
Satisfied, I return the short way up the paths between the huts to the barrack block and the broken window.
It’s a little harder getting back through - the window is higher off the ground than the floor inside - but after a decent bit of jumping and hauling I manage to get my elbows up, and then one leg, and finally I collapse inside, quite winded and out breath.
The bunk has a solid metal frame, a blanket, a pillow, nothing more.
I set the cup carefully down on the table once more. “Why?” I ask coldly. “What’s in it?”
“Lapsang Souchong,” he remarks, placing his own cup down on the table with a clink. “Such a curious flavour. It might almost not be tea at all. You might say it hides a multitude of sins. As do you, isn’t that correct?”
Work carefully? It’s difficult to work carefully when all one’s has is a bucket. It’s rather like the sledgehammer for the proverbial nut.
“No. I passed it on to Hooper.”
“I see. And what did he do with it?”
“No, Harris. The young man wasn’t blackmailing me.” I take a deep breath. “It was Hooper.”
“Now look here,” Harris interrupts. “Don’t start that again.”
“It’s the truth, Harris. If I’m going to jail, then so be it, but I won’t hang at Traitor’s Gate. Hooper was the one who told the boy about our work. Hooper put the boy on to me. I should have realised, of course. These things don’t happen by chance. I was a fool to think they might. And then, once he had me compromised, he demanded I steal the part from the machine.”
“Which you did.” Harris leans forward. “And then what? You still have it? You put it somewhere?”
“I can’t remember.”
He draws his gun and lays it lightly on the field table.
“I’m sorry to threaten you, friend. But His Majesty needs that brain of yours, and that brain alone. There are plenty of other parts to you that our country could do better without. Now I’ll ask you again. Did you hide the component?”
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
I have no God to make peace with. I find it difficult to believe in goodness of any kind, in a world such as this.
I have no place here. No way to fit. I am the intercept - caught, in the middle, cryptic and understood only thinly, through devices and machines.
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
I suppose my fist would do a good enough job. But I’d cut myself to ribbons, most likely. And the noise would be terrible. There must be a way of making this easier. I’m supposed to be a thief now. What would a burglar do?
“I’m not saying anything of the sort,” I snap back. “What is this, Harris? You’re accusing me of treachery but I don’t see a shred of evidence for it! Why don’t you put your cards on the table?”
“It’s simple enough,” Harris replies. “I’ve seen the same story a hundred times before,” he says. “A young man like yourself - clever, somewhat removed from the world. The kind that doesn’t go to parties, you might say. Who takes himself a little too seriously, perhaps. Takes things too far. Further than a man should allow a thing to go. That’s the story, isn’t it? You took things too far, and then you couldn’t take them back. And now they have you.”
It’s no good. That’s only half a solution. I couldn’t be happy with that.
Let me see. There’s the bunk, a bucket, nothing else. I have my jacket but nothing in the pockets - no handkerchief, for instance.
“And the other men? Do we have a hut each? Surely there aren’t enough senior officers to go round.”
“Collins and Humph were outside when the theft occurred. Everyone confirms that,” Harris replies. “That leaves you, Hooper, and the other two, who vouch for each other and frankly I’m inclined to believe them. But that’s all we know. No-one here is in the business of guessing, you know that. Our business is to decode. To get to the bottom of whatever’s going on. You’ve not placed yourself beyond suspicion and until you do so...” Harris shrugs. “I’m afraid I have fewer and fewer choices as time goes on. If that component has left these grounds then every minute is critical.”
“Or be thrown into the river.”
“Hmm.” Harris chews his moustache thoughtfully. “Well, that would put us in a spot, seeing as how we’d never know for certain. We’d have to be ready to change our whole approach just in case the part had got through to the Germans. I don’t mind telling you, this is a disaster, this whole thing. What I want is to find that little bit of mechanical trickery anywhere. I don’t care where. In your luncheon box or under Hooper’s pillow, whatever. Just somewhere, and within the grounds of this place.”
Making a wide circuit I creep around the tent. It has plenty of other flaps and openings, tied down with Gordian complexity. But nothing afford itself to slipping the component inside.
I settle down to wait.
Night falls. The clockwork of the heavens keeps turning, whatever state I might be in. No-one can steal the components that make the sun go down and the stars come out. I watch it performing its operations. I can’t sleep.
Has Hooper taken my bait?
I put my ear down to the keyhole, but there’s nothing now. Probably still a guard outside, of course, but they’re keeping mum.
I hang back a moment. Something does not seem quite right. After all, Hooper did not steal the component. He has no reason to confess to anything. Perhaps this is another trap?
“Well?” Harris asks. “What are you waiting for? Please don’t tell me you want to confess now as well, I don’t think my head could stand it.”
“I can’t remember.”
He draws his gun and lays it lightly on the field table.
“I’m sorry to threaten you, friend. But His Majesty needs that brain of yours, and that brain alone. There are plenty of other parts to you that our country could do better without. Now I’ll ask you again. Did you hide the component?”
Work carefully? It’s difficult to work carefully when all one’s has is a shoe.
I head on around the back of the hut. The breeze-block with the cavity is on the left side.
“All right.” With a sigh, your defiance collapses."If you’re searched my things then I suppose you’ve found my letters. Haven’t you? In fact, if you haven’t, don’t tell me.
Harris nods once. “I’ve seen the same story a hundred times before,” he says. “A young man like yourself - clever, somewhat removed from the world. The kind that doesn’t go to parties, you might say. Who takes himself a little too seriously, perhaps. Takes things too far. Further than a man should allow a thing to go. That’s the story, isn’t it? You took things too far, and then you couldn’t take them back. And now they have you.”
“Well?”
“We’ll be outside the door,” Harris replies, seriously. “The first sign of any funny business and we’ll have you both on the floor in minutes. You understand? The country needs your brain, but it’s not too worried about your legs. Remember that.”
Then he gets to his feet, and opens the door, and marches me out and across the yard. The evening is drawing in and there’s a chill in the air. My mind is racing. I have one opportunity here - a moment in which to put the fear of God into Hooper and make him do something foolish to place himself in harm’s way. But how to achieve it?
“You ready?” Harris demands.
“For God’s sake, man, what do you have to lose?”
“We’ll be outside the door,” Harris replies, seriously. “The first sign of any funny business and we’ll have you both on the floor in minutes. You understand? The country needs your brain, but it’s not too worried about your legs. Remember that.”
Then he gets to his feet, and opens the door, and marches me out and across the yard. The evening is drawing in and there’s a chill in the air. My mind is racing. I have one opportunity here - a moment in which to put the fear of God into Hooper and make him do something foolish to place himself in harm’s way. But how to achieve it?
“You ready?” Harris demands.
“No,” Harris declares, finally. “I think you’re lying about Hooper. I think you’re a clever, scheming young man - that’s why we hired you - and you’re looking for the only reasonable out this situation has to offer. But I’m not taking it. We know you were in the room with the machine, we know you’re of a perverted persuasion, we know you have compromised yourself. There’s nothing more to say here. Either you tell me what you’ve done with that component, or we will hang you and search just as hard. It’s your choice.”
He gets to his feet, and gathers his gloves from the table top.
“I’m going to go outside and organise a rope. That’ll take about twelve minutes. That’s how long you have to decide.”
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
It’s no good. That’s only half a solution. I couldn’t be happy with that.
“I still have it. Not on me, of course. The missing component of the Bombe computer is hidden in a small cavity in a breeze-block supporting the left rear post of Hut 2. I put in there anticipating a search. I intended to dispose of it once the fuss had died down. I suppose I was foolish to think that it might.”
“Indeed you were. And, Mr Manning: God help you if you’re lying to me.”
Harris stands, and slips away smartly. Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
I go over to the window and try to jimmy it open. Not much luck, but in my struggling I notice this window only backs on the thin little brook that runs down the back of the compound. Which means, if I smashed it, I might get away with no-one seeing.
From outside, I hear a voice. Hooper’s. He’s haranguing someone, for something.
“If I wanted to escape, I would have made damn sure that I could,” I tell him sternly.
“Well, I’m afraid it is going to get worse for you,” Harris replies soberly. “We followed Hooper, and he took himself neatly to bed and slept like a boy scout. Which puts us back to square one, and you firmly in the frame. And I’m afraid I don’t have time for any more games. I want you to tell me where that component is, or we will hang you as a traitor.”
He passes a hand across his eyes with a long look of despair.
“I’m going to go outside and organise a rope. That’ll take about twelve minutes. That’s how long you have to decide.”
“Just adding to the drama,” I tell him, confidently. “I’m sure you can understand that.”
“I think we’ve had enough drama today already,” Harris replies. “Let’s hope for a clean kill.”
He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. I can only hope that Hooper bites on my baited hook. If he thinks I’m mad and bitter enough to have framed him somehow, and arrogant enough to have taunted him with a clue to where the damning evidence is hidden... if he hates me enough, and is paranoid enough, then he might unravel my little riddle and go searching around Hut 2.
Thinking back, I should have wrapped the part from the Bombe in one of his shirts before hiding it, that would have been a clever move. I really do make a terrible spy.
“You’re right.” I shake my head. “You’re right. I don’t see how I can help you after all. So, there’s only one conclusion.”
“Oh, yes? And what’s that?”
“It’s your problem. Your security breach. So much for your careful vetting process.” I lean back in my chair and fold my arms so the way they shake will not be visible. “You’d better get on with solving it, instead of wasting your time in here with me.”
Harris harrumphs. He’s thinking it all over.
I pause for a moment longer. It doesn’t do to be too careless...
Then the door locks turns. The door opens. Then Jeremy - one of the guards, rather - sticks his head through the door. “I thought I heard...”
He stops. Looks for a moment. Sees the bucket in my hand. Then without a moment’s further thought he blows his shrill whistles and hustles into the hut, grabbing me roughly by my arms.
I’ll never know if I hadn’t have waited that extra moment - maybe I still could have got away. But, how far?
I’m hustled into one of the huts. Nowhere to sleep, but they’re not interested in my comfort any longer. Harris comes in with the Captain.
“So,” Harris remarks. “Looks like your little trap worked. Only it worked to show you out for what you are.”
The bunk has a solid metal frame, a blanket, a pillow, nothing more.
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
“I wouldn’t put it past him. He’s a creep.” I wipe a hand across my forehead. “All I can say is, ever since I arrived here, he’s been looking to ways to bring me down a peg. I wouldn’t be surprised if he set this whole affair up just to have me court-martialled.”
“We don’t court-martial civilians,” Harris replies. “Traitors are simply hung at her Majesty’s pleasure.”
I slip off my jacket and hold it with one hand over the glass. This should do it. Then I heft back my arm, and take a strong swing, trying to imagine it’s Harris’ face on the other side.
The sound of the impact is muffled. With my arm still covered, I sweep out the remaining glass in the frame. I’m ready to escape. The only trouble is - when they look in on me in the morning, there will be no question what has happened. It won’t help me one jot with shifting suspicion off my back.
“I’m not trying to do anything except save my neck.”
“Let’s hope things work out,” Harris agrees darkly.
He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
There is nothing I can do to speed up time. The night draws on at its own pace. I suppose by morning I will know my fate.
“I can imagine how being surrounded by clever men is pretty threatening for you, Commander,” I reply with a sneer. “They don’t train you to think in the Armed Forces.”
“Talk,” Harris demands. “Talk, now. Tell me where you’ve hidden it or who you’ve passed it to. Or God help me, but I’ll take your wretched pansy body to pieces looking for it, do you understand me?”
His eyes bore into me like drill-bits.
“I’ll talk to him.”
“What?”
“Put me in with Hooper. Maybe I can get something useful out of him. As his colleague.”
Harris shakes his head. “He despises you, doesn’t he? I don’t see why he’d give himself up to you.”
“I’m sure I saw him this evening, talking to someone by the fence on the woodland side of the compound. He’s probably passed it on already. You’ll have to ask him.”
Harris harrumphs. He’s thinking it all over.
“Just adding to the drama,” I tell him, confidently. “I’m sure you can understand that.”
“I think we’ve had enough drama today already,” Harris replies. “Let’s hope for a clean kill.”
He hustles me up the steps of the barracks, keeping me firmly gripped as if I had any chance of giving him, a trained military man, the slip. It’s all I can do not to fall into the room.
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. I can only hope that Hooper bites on my baited hook. If he thinks I’m mad and bitter enough to have framed him somehow, and arrogant enough to have taunted him with a clue to where the damning evidence is hidden... if he hates me enough, and is paranoid enough, then he might unravel my little riddle and go searching around Hut 2.
Thinking back, I should have wrapped the part from the Bombe in one of his shirts before hiding it, that would have been a clever move. I really do make a terrible spy.
There is nothing to be gained here. I have the component now; maybe it will be of some value tomorrow.
“Queen to rook two, checkmate!” I call, then laugh viciously, as if I am damning him straight to hell.
I only catch Hooper’s reaction for a moment - his eyebrow lifts in surprise and alarm. Good. If he thinks it is a threat then he just might be careless enough to go looking for what it might mean.
The Captain comes outside, pulling the door to. “What’s this?” he asks. “A confession? Just like that?”
“No,” the Commander admits, in a low voice. “I’m afraid not. Rather more a scheme. The idea is to let Hooper go and see what he does. If he believes we have Manning here in irons, he’ll try to shift the component.”
“If he has it.”
“Indeed.”
The Captain peers at me for a moment, like I was some kind of curious insect.
“Sometimes, I think you people are magicians,” he remarks. “Other times you seem more like witches. Very well.”
With that he opens the door to the Hut and goes back inside. The Commander uses the moment to hustle me roughly forward.
“And what was all that shouting about?” he hisses in my ear as we move towards the barracks. “Are you trying to pull something? Or just make me look incompetent?”
“Ask the others,” I reply, leaning back. “They’ll tell you. If they haven’t already, that’s only because they’re protecting Hooper. Hoping he’ll come to his senses and stop being an idiot. I hope he does too. And if you lock him up in a freezing hut like you’ve done me, I’m sure he will.”
“We have,” Harris replies simply.
It’s all I can do not to gape.
“Hooper’s in Hut 3 with the Captain, having a similar conversation.”
Work carefully? It’s difficult to work carefully when all one’s has is nothing but brute force.
I say quiet, listening, not sure how this will go.
“In case I’m not making myself clear,” Harris continues, “I mean, he managed to find it, by accident, somewhere where it wasn’t the night before. And at the same time, you’re sitting here with your window broken. So, I rather think you’ve played your last hand and lost. There’s no way Hooper stole that component and then just left it lying around in the doorway of his tent. No way at all. So I came to tell you that the game is up for you.”
He nods and gets to his feet. Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.
I go over to the window and try to jimmy it open. Not much luck, but in my struggling I notice this window only backs on the thin little brook that runs down the back of the compound. Which means, if I smashed it, I might get away with no-one seeing.
From outside, I hear a voice. Hooper’s. He’s haranguing someone, for something.
“Here at Bletchley? Of course I do”
“Here, now,” Harris replies firmly. “We’re not talking to everyone, you understand. I can imagine you might feel pretty sore about that, old man. I can imagine you feeling picked on. You always were a sensitive soul.”
“Very well. I see there’s no point in covering up. You know everything anyway.”
Harris nods, and waits for me to continue.
“There was a young man, Harris. I met him in the town. A few months ago now. We got to talking - not about work, you understand. I said I was an accountant for a firm, just as I was supposed to. Although he seemed to know that wasn’t true. That got me wondering if he wasn’t one of us.”
Harris is not letting me off any more. “You seriously considered that possibility?”
“Quite terrible. I would never have guessed.”
“Well.” Russell harrumphs. “Quince was saying this morning, apparently his grandfather was German. So perhaps it’s to be expected. See you there?”
I wave to him and move away, my thoughts turning to the young man in the village. My lover. My contact. My blackmailer. Hooper may have taken the fall for the missing component, but if it was his recovering it from Hut 2 then I have nothing to sell to save my reputation, if I have any left.
If he didn’t, of course, and Harris was telling the truth about his sudden confession, then I will be able to buy my freedom once and for all.
I shift in my seat. “Not really. The boy was a simpleton, obviously. My intellectual inferior. His good opinion meant nothing to be. Harris, please do not misunderstand me. I was simply after his body.”
Harris, to his credit, doesn’t flinch. Well, perhaps not: but he’ll have nightmares of this moment tonight. I’m almost tempted to reach out and try to take his hand to worsen it for him, but I hold back.
“Go on with your confession,” he replies. I shrug.
“There’s not much else to say. I took the part from Bombe computing device. You seem to know that already. I had to. He was going to expose me if I didn’t.”
“This young man was blackmailing you over your affair?”
The bucket? Hardly. The bucket might do some good if I wanted to sweep up the glass afterwards, but it won’t help me smash the glass quietly.
“I don’t think Hooper could have planned this in advance. So he’d need to get word to whoever he’s working with, and that would take time. So I think he would have hidden it somewhere, and be waiting to make sure I soundly take the fall. That way, if anything goes wrong, he can arrange for the part to be conveniently re-found.”
“Makes sense,” Harris agrees, cautiously. I can see he’s still not certain whether he can trust me. “Which means the question is, what can we do to rat him out?”
“Quite right,” I answer smartly.
He stares back at me. “Let’s get straight to the point. Do you have the component?” Harris demands. “Do you know where it is?”
“An accident, naturally.” I risk a smile. “That damned machine, Harris; it’s made from spare parts and string. Even these huts leak when it rains. It wouldn’t take more than one fellow to trip over a cable to shake out a component and have it roll away across the floor. Have you tried looking under the thing?”
Harris doesn’t smile. “Do you suppose we haven’t? Do you supposed we haven’t combed every inch of this place already?”
In a sudden moment I understand that his reply is a threat.
“Now,” he continues. “Are you sure there isn’t anything you want to tell me?”
I put my ear down to the keyhole, but there’s nothing now. Probably still a guard outside, of course, but they’re keeping mum.
“I’ll talk to him.”
“What?”
“Put me in with Hooper. Maybe I can get something useful out of him. As his colleague.”
Harris shakes his head. “He despises you, doesn’t he? I don’t see why he’d give himself up to you.”
The pillow is fat and fluffy. I could put it over the window and it would muffle the sound of breaking glass, certainly; but I wouldn’t be able to break any glass through it either.
The bucket? Hardly. The bucket might do some good if I wanted to sweep up the glass afterwards, but it won’t help me smash the glass quietly.
“All right. I’ll tell you what happened.” And never mind my shame, I think.
“I can imagine how it starts,” he growls.
“There was a young man, Harris. I met him in the town. A few months ago now. We got to talking - not about work, you understand. I said I was an accountant for a firm, just as I was supposed to. Although he seemed to know that wasn’t true. That got me wondering if he wasn’t one of us.”
Harris is not letting me off any more. “You seriously considered that possibility?”
The frame is heavy and solid. I couldn’t lift it or shift it without help from another man. And it wouldn’t do me any good here anyway. I can reach the window perfectly well.
“No. Not for more than a moment, of course. Everyone here is marked out by how little we would be willing to say about it.”
“Only you told this young man more than a little, didn’t you?”
I nod. “He seemed to know all about me. He... he indicated he was quite enchanted by my achievements.”
The way Harris is staring at me I almost expect him to strike me, but he does not. He replies, “I can see how that must have been attractive to you,” with such plain-spokeness I almost have to ask him to repeat it.
Of course, there is no-one else in the hut to hear the remark. He will no doubt deny it later.
“No, of course not.” I push the teacup around on its base. “All I can say is, ever since I arrived here, he’s been looking to ways to bring me down a peg. I wouldn’t be surprised if he set this whole affair up just to have me court-martialled.”
“We don’t court-martial civilians,” Harris replies. “Traitors are simply hung at her Majesty’s pleasure.”
The bunk has a solid metal frame, a blanket, a pillow, nothing more.
“I’m sure I saw him this evening, talking to someone by the fence on the woodland side of the compound. He’s probably passed it on already. You’ll have to ask him.”
Harris harrumphs. He’s thinking it all over.
“Hooper, I’ll make a deal with you. We both know what happened in that hut this afternoon. I know because I did it, and you know because you know you didn’t. But once this is done I’ll be rich, and I’ll split that with you. I’ll let you have the results, too. Your name on the discovery of the Bombe. And it won’t hurt the war effort - you know as well as me that the component on its own is worthless, it’s the wiring of the Bombe, the usage, that’s what’s valuable. So how about it?”
Hooper looks back at me, appalled. “You’re asking me to commit treason?”
“I’m no traitor, damn it. You know I’m not. How much work have I done here? Against the Germans? Cracking their codes? Understanding their secrets? I’ve given it my all! And you know as well as I do, if the Reich were to invade, I would be a dead man for being what I am. So please, Hooper. I’m not doing any of this lightly. But I’m in a jam!”
“Assuming I wanted to help you,” he replies, carefully. “Which I don’t. What would I do?”
“Nothing. Almost nothing.
All you have to do is go to the back of Hut 2. There’s a breeze-block with a cavity. That’s where I’ve put it. I’ll be locked up overnight, I should think. But you can pick it up and pass it to my contact. He’ll be at the south fence around two AM."
“If you think I’ll do that then you’re crazy,” Hooper replies.
At that moment the door flies open and the Captain comes storming back inside.
Harris hustles me over to the barracks. “I hope that’s the end of it,” he mutters as he pushes me up the steps.
“Just be sure to let him out,” I reply. “And then see where he goes.”
And then they slam the door shut, and it locks. How am I supposed to manage anything from in here?
“I’ll talk to him.”
“What?”
“Put me in with Hooper. Maybe I can get something useful out of him. As his colleague.”
Harris shakes his head. “He despises you, doesn’t he? I don’t see why he’d give himself up to you.”
“No,” Harris declares, finally. “I think you’re lying about Hooper. I think you’re a clever, scheming young man - that’s why we hired you - and you’re looking for the only reasonable out this situation has to offer. But I’m not taking it. We know you were in the room with the machine, we know you’re of a perverted persuasion, we know you have compromised yourself. There’s nothing more to say here. Either you tell me what you’ve done with that component, or we will hang you and search just as hard. It’s your choice.”
He gets to his feet, and gathers his gloves from the table top.
“I’m going to go outside and organise a rope. That’ll take about twelve minutes. That’s how long you have to decide.”
“Well, then,” I answer, nervously. “What would he do? Either get rid of it straight away - or if that wasn’t possible, which it probably wouldn’t be, since he’d have to arrange things with his contacts - so most likely, he’d hide it somewhere and wait, until you had the rope around my neck and he could be sure he was safe.”
“Makes sense,” Harris agrees, cautiously. I can see he’s still not entirely convinced by my tale, as well he might not be - I’ve hardly been entirely straight with him. “Which means the question is, what can we do to rat him out?”
I have no God to make peace with. I find it difficult to believe in goodness of any kind, in a world such as this.
I have no place here. No way to fit. I am the intercept - caught, in the middle, cryptic and understood only thinly, through devices and machines.
“So would you after the night I’ve had.”
“Well, I’m afraid it is going to get worse for you,” Harris replies soberly. “We followed Hooper, and he took himself neatly to bed and slept like a boy scout. Which puts us back to square one, and you firmly in the frame. And I’m afraid I don’t have time for any more games. I want you to tell me where that component is, or we will hang you as a traitor.”
He passes a hand across his eyes with a long look of despair.
“I’m going to go outside and organise a rope. That’ll take about twelve minutes. That’s how long you have to decide.”
“Yes. Something like that. It’s a very lonely life otherwise. And the work we do - well. It only makes it worse. There’s barely a moment to oneself.”
“That’s how it is in the Service,” Harris answers. “I know you didn’t sign up for it but, well. There’s plenty of other men who didn’t who are serving now, too. Now, go on with your confession.”
That gives me pause, for a moment. I hadn’t thought of it as such. But I suppose that’s what this is. I am about to admit what I did, after all.
“There’s not much else to say. I took the part from Bombe computing device. You seem to know that already. I had to. He was going to expose me if I didn’t.”
“This young man was blackmailing you over your affair?”
As Harris speaks I find myself suddenly sharply aware, as if waking from a long sleep. The table, the corrugated walls of the hut, everything seems suddenly more tangible than a moment before. Perhaps whatever it was they put in my drink is wearing off?
Of course not. I am alone; that is what they wanted me to be, because of who and what I love. So I have no nation, no country.
“I’m afraid we have only one option, Manning,” Harris says. “Please, man. Tell us where the component is.”
“Really, Commander,” I reply. “It rather sounds like you want to spank me.”
“For God’s sake,” he declares with thick disgust, then swoops away out of the room. Then the door closes. I am alone again, as I have been for most of my short life.