1984

           Thecircleofthemaskwaslargeenoughnowtoshutoutthevisionofanythingelse. Thewiredoorwasacoupleofhand-spansfromhisface. Theratsknewwhatwascomingnow. Oneofthemwasleapingupanddown,theother,anoldscalygrandfatherofthesewers,stoodup,withhispinkhandsagainstthebars,andfiercelysniffedtheair. Winstoncouldseethewhiskersandtheyellowteeth. Againtheblackpanictookholdofhim. Hewasblind,helpless,mindless. 

           ‘ItwasacommonpunishmentinImperialChina,’saidO’Brienasdidacticallyasever. 

           Themaskwasclosingonhisface. Thewirebrushedhischeek. Andthen—no,itwasnotrelief,onlyhope,atinyfragmentofhope. Toolate,perhapstoolate. ButhehadsuddenlyunderstoodthatinthewholeworldtherewasjustONEpersontowhomhecouldtransferhispunishment—ONEbodythathecouldthrustbetweenhimselfandtherats. Andhewasshoutingfrantically,overandover. 

           ‘DoittoJulia! DoittoJulia! Notme! Julia! Idon’tcarewhatyoudotoher. Tearherfaceoff,striphertothebones. Notme!Julia!Notme!’ 

           Hewasfallingbackwards,intoenormousdepths,awayfromtherats. Hewasstillstrappedinthechair,buthehadfallenthroughthefloor,throughthewallsofthebuilding,throughtheearth,throughtheoceans,throughtheatmosphere,intoouterspace,intothegulfsbetweenthestars—alwaysaway,away,awayfromtherats. Hewaslightyearsdistant,butO’Brienwasstillstandingathisside. Therewasstillthecoldtouchofwireagainsthischeek.