1984

           Somethingshadhappened,othershadnothappened. Heturnedbacktothechessboardandpickedupthewhiteknightagain. Almostinthesameinstantitdroppedontotheboardwithaclatter. Hehadstartedasthoughapinhadrunintohim. 

           Ashrilltrumpet-callhadpiercedtheair. Itwasthebulletin! Victory! Italwaysmeantvictorywhenatrumpet-callprecededthenews. Asortofelectricdrillranthroughthecafe. Eventhewaitershadstartedandprickeduptheirears. 

           Thetrumpet-callhadletlooseanenormousvolumeofnoise. Alreadyanexcitedvoicewasgabblingfromthetelescreen,butevenasitstarteditwasalmostdrownedbyaroarofcheeringfromoutside. Thenewshadrunroundthestreetslikemagic. Hecouldhearjustenoughofwhatwasissuingfromthetelescreentorealizethatithadallhappened,ashehadforeseen; avastseabornearmadahadsecretlyassembledasuddenblowintheenemy’srear,thewhitearrowtearingacrossthetailoftheblack. Fragmentsoftriumphantphrasespushedthemselvesthroughthedin: ‘Vaststrategicmanoeuvre —perfectco-ordination —utterrout —halfamillionprisoners —completedemoralization —controlofthewholeofAfrica —bringthewarwithinmeasurabledistanceofitsend —victory —greatestvictoryinhumanhistory —victory,victory,victory!’ 

           UnderthetableWinston’sfeetmadeconvulsivemovements. Hehadnotstirredfromhisseat,butinhismindhewasrunning,swiftlyrunning,hewaswiththecrowdsoutside,cheeringhimselfdeaf. HelookedupagainattheportraitofBigBrother. Thecolossusthatbestrodetheworld! TherockagainstwhichthehordesofAsiadashedthemselvesinvain! Hethoughthowtenminutesago—yes,onlytenminutes—therehadstillbeenequivocationinhisheartashewonderedwhetherthenewsfromthefrontwouldbeofvictoryordefeat.