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Authors: Franz Kafka

Collected Stories (28 page)

BOOK: Collected Stories
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The explorer would not let him go on. ‘How could I do that,’ he cried, ‘it’s quite impossible. I can neither help nor hinder you.’

‘Yes, you can,’ the officer said. The explorer saw with a certain apprehension that the officer had clenched his fists. ‘Yes, you can,’ repeated the officer, still more insistently. ‘I have a plan that is bound to succeed. You believe your influence is insufficient. I know that it is sufficient. But even granted that you are right, is it not necessary, for the sake of preserving this tradition, to try even what might prove insufficient? Listen to my plan, then. The first thing necessary for you to carry it out is to be as reticent as possible today regarding your verdict on these proceedings. Unless you are asked a direct question you must say nothing at all; but what you do say must be brief and general; let it be remarked that you would prefer not to discuss the matter, that you are out of patience with it, that if you are to let yourself go you would use strong language. I don’t ask you to tell any lies; by no means; you should only give curt answers, such as: “Yes, I saw the execution,” or “Yes, I had it explained to me.” Just that, nothing more. There are
grounds enough for any impatience you betray, although not such as will occur to the Commandant. Of course, he will mistake your meaning and interpret it to please himself. That’s what my plan depends on. Tomorrow in the Commandant’s office there is to be a large conference of all the high administrative officials, the Commandant presiding. Of course the Commandant is the kind of man to have turned these conferences into public spectacles. He has had a gallery built that is always packed with spectators. I am compelled to take part in the conferences, but they make me sick with disgust. Now, whatever happens, you will certainly be invited to this conference; if you behave today as I suggest, the invitation will become an urgent request. But if for some mysterious reason you’re not invited, you’ll have to ask for an invitation; there’s no doubt of your getting it then. So tomorrow you’re sitting in the Commandant’s box with the ladies. He keeps looking up to make sure you’re there. After various trivial and ridiculous matters, brought in merely to impress the audience – mostly harbor works, nothing but harbor works! – our judicial procedure comes up for discussion too. If the Commandant doesn’t introduce it, or not soon enough, I’ll see that it’s mentioned. I’ll stand up and report that today’s execution has taken place. Quite briefly, only a statement. Such a statement is not usual, but I shall make it. The Commandant thanks me, as always, with an amiable smile, and then he can’t restrain himself, he seizes the excellent opportunity. “It has just been reported,” he will say, or words to that effect, “that an execution has taken place. I should like merely to add that this execution was witnessed by the famous explorer who has, as you all know, honored our colony so greatly by his visit to us. His presence at today’s session of our conference also contributes to the importance of this occasion. Should we not now ask the famous explorer to give us his verdict on our traditional mode of execution and the procedure that leads up to it?” Of course there is loud applause, general agreement, I am more insistent than anyone. The Commandant bows to you and says:
“Then in the name of the assembled company, I put the question to you.” And now you advance to the front of the box. Lay your hands where everyone can see them, or the ladies will catch them and press your fingers. – And then at last you can speak out. I don’t know how I’m going to endure the tension of waiting for that moment. Don’t put any restraint on yourself when you make your speech, publish the truth aloud, lean over the front of the box, shout, yes indeed, shout your verdict, your unshakable conviction, at the Commandant. Yet perhaps you wouldn’t care to do that, it’s not in keeping with your character, in your country perhaps people do these things differently, well, that’s all right too, that will be quite as effective, don’t even stand up, just say a few words, even in a whisper, so that only the officials beneath you will hear them, that will be quite enough, you don’t even need to mention the lack of public support for the execution, the creaking wheel, the broken strap, the filthy gag of felt, no, I’ll take all that upon me, and, believe me, if my indictment doesn’t drive him out of the conference hall, it will force him to his knees to make the acknowledgment: Old Commandant, I humble myself before you. – That is my plan; will you help me to carry it out? But of course you are willing, what is more, you must.’ And the officer seized the explorer by both arms and gazed, breathing heavily, into his face. He had shouted the last sentence so loudly that even the soldier and the condemned man were startled into attending; they had not understood a word but they stopped eating and looked over at the explorer, chewing their previous mouthfuls.

From the very beginning the explorer had no doubt about what answer he must give; in his lifetime he had experienced too much to have any uncertainty here; he was fundamentally honorable and unafraid. And yet now, facing the soldier and the condemned man, he did hesitate, for as long as it took to draw one breath. At last, however, he said, as he had to: ‘No.’ The officer blinked several times but did not turn his eyes away. ‘Would you like me to explain?’ asked the
explorer. The officer nodded wordlessly. ‘I do not approve of your procedure,’ said the explorer then, ‘even before you took me into your confidence – of course I shall never in any circumstances betray your confidence – I was already wondering whether it would be my duty to intervene and whether my intervention would have the slightest chance of success. I realized to whom I ought to turn: to the Commandant, of course. You have made that fact even clearer, but without having strengthened my resolution, on the contrary, your sincere conviction has touched me, even though it cannot influence my judgment.’

The officer remained mute, turned to the machine, caught hold of a brass rod, and then, leaning back a little, gazed at the Designer as if to assure himself that all was in order. The soldier and the condemned man seemed to have come to some understanding; the condemned man was making signs to the soldier, difficult though his movements were because of the tight straps; the soldier was bending down to him; the condemned man whispered something and the soldier nodded.

The explorer followed the officer and said: ‘You don’t know yet what I mean to do. I shall tell the Commandant what I think of the procedure, certainly, but not at a public conference, only in private; nor shall I stay here long enough to attend any conference; I am going away early tomorrow morning, or at least embarking on my ship.’

It did not look as if the officer had been listening. ‘So you did not find the procedure convincing,’ he said to himself and smiled, as an old man smiles at childish nonsense and yet pursues his own meditations behind the smile.

‘Then the time has come,’ he said at last, and suddenly looked at the explorer with bright eyes that held some challenge, some appeal for cooperation. ‘The time for what?’ asked the explorer uneasily, but got no answer.

‘You are free,’ said the officer to the condemned man in the native tongue. The man did not believe it at first. ‘Yes, you are set free,’ said the officer. For the first time the
condemned man’s face woke to real animation. Was it true? Was it only a caprice of the officer’s that might change again? Had the foreign explorer begged him off? What was it? One could read these questions on his face. But not for long. Whatever it might be, he wanted to be really free if he might, and he began to struggle so far as the Harrow permitted him.

‘You’ll burst my straps,’ cried the officer, ‘lie still! We’ll soon loosen them.’ And signing the soldier to help him, he set about doing so. The condemned man laughed wordlessly to himself, now he turned his face left toward the officer, now right toward the soldier, nor did he forget the explorer.

‘Draw him out,’ ordered the officer. Because of the Harrow this had to be done with some care. The condemned man had already torn himself a little in the back through his impatience.

From now on, however, the officer paid hardly any attention to him. He went up to the explorer, pulled out the small leather wallet again, turned over the papers in it, found the one he wanted, and showed it to the explorer. ‘Read it,’ he said. ‘I can’t,’ said the explorer, ‘I told you before that I can’t make out these scripts.’ Try taking a close look at it,’ said the officer and came quite near to the explorer so that they might read it together. But when even that proved useless, he outlined the script with his little finger, holding it high above the paper as if the surface dared not be sullied by touch, in order to help the explorer to follow the script in that way. The explorer did make an effort, meaning to please the officer in this respect at least, but he was quite unable to follow. Now the officer began to spell it, letter by letter, and then read out the words. ‘ “
BE JUST
!” is what is written there,’ he said, ‘surely you can read it now.’ The explorer bent so close to the paper that the officer feared he might touch it and drew it farther away; the explorer made no remark, yet it was clear that he still could not decipher it. ‘ “
BE JUST
!” is what is written there,’ said the officer once more. ‘Maybe,’ said the explorer, ‘I am prepared to believe you.’ ‘Well, then,’ said the officer, at least partly satisfied,
and climbed up the ladder with the paper; very carefully he laid it inside the Designer and seemed to be changing the disposition of all the cogwheels; it was a troublesome piece of work and must have involved wheels that were extremely small, for sometimes the officer’s head vanished altogether from sight inside the Designer, so precisely did he have to regulate the machinery.

The explorer, down below, watched the labor uninterruptedly, his neck grew stiff and his eyes smarted from the glare of sunshine over the sky. The soldier and the condemned man were now busy together. The man’s shirt and trousers, which were already lying in the pit, were fished out by the point of the soldier’s bayonet. The shirt was abominably dirty and its owner washed it in the bucket of water. When he put on the shirt and trousers both he and the soldier could not help guffawing, for the garments were of course slit up behind. Perhaps the condemned man felt it incumbent on him to amuse the soldier, he turned around and around in his slashed garments before the soldier, who squatted on the ground beating his knees with mirth. All the same, they presently controlled their mirth out of respect for the gentlemen.

When the officer had at length finished his task aloft, he surveyed the machinery in all its details once more, with a smile, but this time shut the lid of the Designer, which had stayed open till now, climbed down, looked into the pit and then at the condemned man, noting with satisfaction that the clothing had been taken out, then went over to wash his hands in the water bucket, perceived too late that it was disgustingly dirty, was unhappy because he could not wash his hands, in the end thrust them into the sand – this alternative did not please him, but he had to put up with it – then stood upright and began to unbutton his uniform jacket. As he did this, the two ladies’ handkerchiefs he had tucked under his collar fell into his hands. ‘Here are your handkerchiefs,’ he said, and threw them to the condemned man. And to the explorer he said in explanation: ‘A gift from the ladies.’

In spite of the obvious haste with which he was discarding first his uniform jacket and then all his clothing, he handled each garment with loving care, he even ran his fingers caressingly over the silver lace on the jacket and shook a tassel into place. This loving care was certainly out of keeping with the fact that as soon as he had a garment off he flung it at once with a kind of unwilling jerk into the pit. The last thing left to him was his short sword with the sword belt. He drew it out of the scabbard, broke it, then gathered all together, the bits of the sword, the scabbard, and the belt, and flung them so violently down that they clattered into the pit.

Now he stood naked there. The explorer bit his lips and said nothing. He knew very well what was going to happen, but he had no right to obstruct the officer in anything. If the judicial procedure which the officer cherished were really so near its end – possibly as a result of his own intervention, as to which he felt himself pledged – then the officer was doing the right thing; in his place the explorer would not have acted otherwise.

The soldier and the condemned man did not understand at first what was happening, at first they were not even looking on. The condemned man was gleeful at having got the handkerchiefs back, but he was not allowed to enjoy them for long, since the soldier snatched them with a sudden, unexpected grab. Now the condemned man in turn was trying to twitch them from under the belt where the soldier had tucked them, but the soldier was on his guard. So they were wrestling, half in jest. Only when the officer stood quite naked was their attention caught. The condemned man especially seemed struck with the notion that some great change was impending. What had happened to him was now going to happen to the officer. Perhaps even to the very end. Apparently the foreign explorer had given the order for it. So this was revenge. Although he himself had not suffered to the end, he was to be revenged to the end. A broad, silent grin now appeared on his face and stayed there all the rest of the time.

The officer, however, had turned to the machine. It had been clear enough previously that he understood the machine well, but now it was almost staggering to see how he managed it and how it obeyed him. His hand had only to approach the Harrow for it to rise and sink several times till it was adjusted to the right position for receiving him; he touched only the edge of the Bed and already it was vibrating; the felt gag came to meet his mouth, one could see that the officer was really reluctant to take it but he shrank from it only a moment, soon he submitted and received it. Everything was ready, only the straps hung down at the sides, yet they were obviously unnecessary, the officer did not need to be fastened down. Then the condemned man noticed the loose straps, in his opinion the execution was incomplete unless the straps were buckled, he gestured eagerly to the soldier and they ran together to strap the officer down. The latter had already stretched out one foot to push the lever that started the Designer; he saw the two men coming up; so he drew his foot back and let himself be buckled in. But now he could not reach the lever; neither the soldier nor the condemned man would be able to find it, and the explorer was determined not to lift a finger. It was not necessary; as soon as the straps were fastened the machine began to work; the Bed vibrated, the needles flickered above the skin, the Harrow rose and fell. The explorer had been staring at it quite a while before he remembered that a wheel in the Designer should have been creaking; but everything was quiet, not even the slightest hum could be heard.

BOOK: Collected Stories
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