LONDON 1962
3
Chavasse stood in the entrance of the Caravel Club on Great Portland Street and looked gloomily out into the driving rain. He had conducted a wary love affair with London for several years, but four oclock on a wet November morning was enough to strain any relationship, he told himself as he stepped out onto the pavement.
There was a nasty taste in his mouth from too many cigarettes, and the thought of the 115 pounds which had passed across the green baize tables of the Caravel didnt help matters.
Hed been hanging around town for too long, that was the trouble. It was now over two months since hed returned from his vacation after the Caspar Schultz affair, and the Chief had kept him sitting behind a desk at headquarters dealing with paperwork that any reasonably competent general-grade clerk could have handled.
He was still considering the situation and wondering what to do about it when he turned the corner onto Baker Street, looked up casually and noticed the light in his apartment.
He crossed the street quickly and went through the swing doors. The foyer was deserted and the night porter wasnt behind his desk. Chavasse stood there thinking about it for a moment, a slight frown on his face. He finally decided against using the lift and went up the stairs quickly to the third floor.
The corridor was wrapped in quiet. He paused outside the door to his apartment for a moment, listening, and then moved round the corner to the service entrance and took out his key. The plump woman who sat on the edge of the kitchen table reading a magazine as she waited for the coffeepot to boil was attractive in spite of her dark, rather severe spectacles.
Chavasse closed the door gently, tiptoed across the room and kissed her on the nape of the neck. I must say this is a funny time to call, but Im more than willing, he said with a grin.
Jean Frazer, the Chiefs secretary, turned and looked at him calmly. Dont flatter yourself, and where the hell have you been? Ive had scouts out all over Soho and the West End since eight oclock last night.
A cold finger of excitement moved inside him. Something big turned up.
A cold finger of excitement moved inside him. Something big turned up.
She nodded. Youre telling me. Youd better go in. The Chiefs been here since midnight hoping youd turn up.
How about some coffee?
Ill bring it in when its ready. She wrinkled her nose. Youve been drinking again, havent you?
What a hell of a wife youd make, sweetheart, he told her with a tired grin, and went through into the living room.
Two men were sitting in wing-backed chairs by the fire, a chessboard on the coffee table between them. One was a stranger to Chavasse, an old white-haired man in his seventies who wore gold-rimmed spectacles and studied the chessboard intently.
The other, at first sight, might have been any high Civil Service official. The well-cut, dark grey suit, the old Etonian tie, even the greying hair, all seemed a part of the familiar brand image.
It was only when he turned his head sharply and looked up that the difference became apparent. This was the face of no ordinary man. Here was a supremely intelligent being, with the cold grey eyes of a man who would be, above all things, a realist.
I hear youve been looking for me, Chavasse said as he peeled off his wet trench coat.
The Chief smiled faintly. Thats putting it mildly. You must have found somewhere new.
Chavasse nodded. The Caravel Club in Great Portland Street. They do a nice steak and theres a gaming room, chemmy and roulette mostly.
Is it worth a visit?
Not really, Chavasse grinned. Rather boring and too damned expensive. Its time I saw a little action of another kind.
I think we can oblige you, Paul, the Chief said. Id like you to meet Professor Craig, by the way.
The old man shook hands and smiled. So youre the language expert? Ive heard a lot about you, young man.
All to the good, I hope? Chavasse took a cigarette from a box on the coffee table and pulled forward a chair.
Professor Craig is chairman of the Joint Space Research Programme recently set up by NATO, the Chief said. Hes brought us rather an interesting problem. To be perfectly frank, I think youre the only available Bureau agent capable of handling it.
Well, thats certainly a flattering beginning, Chavasse said. Whats the story?
The Chief carefully inserted a Turkish cigarette into an elegent silver holder. When were you last in Tibet, Paul?
Chavasse frowned. You know that as well as I do. Three years ago, when we brought out the Dalai Lama.
How would you feel about going in again?
Chavasse shrugged. My Tibetan is still pretty fair. Not fluent, but good enough. Its the other problems specific to the area which would worry me most. Mainly the fact that Im a European, I suppose.
But I understood you to say youd helped out the Dalai Lama three years ago, Professor Craig said.
Chavasse nodded. But that was different. Straight in and out again within a few days. I dont know how long I could get by if I was there for any period of time. I dont know if youre aware of this fact, Professor, but not a single Allied soldier escaped from a Chinese prison camp during the Korean War, and for obvious reasons. Drop me into Russia in suitable clothes and I could pass without question. In a street in Peking, Id stick out like a sore thumb.
Fair enough, the Chief said. I appreciate your point, but what if we could get round it?
That would still leave the Chinese, Chavasse told him. Theyve really tightened up since I was last there. Especially after the Tibetan revolt. Although mind you, I think their control of large areas must be pretty nominal. He hesitated and then went on, This thing is it important?
The Chief nodded gravely. Probably the biggest Ive ever asked you to handle.
Youd better tell me about it.
The Chief leaned back in his chair. What would you say was the gravest international problem at the moment the Bomb?
Chavasse shook his head. No, I dont think so. Not anymore, anyway. Probably the space race.
The Chief nodded. I agree, and the fact that John Glenn and those who have followed him have successfully emulated Gagarin and Titov has got our Russian friends worried. The gap is narrowing and they know it.
Is there anything they can do about it? Chavasse said.
The Chief nodded. Indeed there is, and theyve been working on it for too damned long already but perhaps Professor Craig would like to tell you about it. Hes the expert.
Professor Craig took off his spectacles and started to polish their lenses with the handkerchief from his breast pocket. The great problem is propulsion, Mr. Chavasse. Bigger and better rockets just arent the answer, not when it comes to travelling to the moon, and anything farther involves immense distances.
And presumably the Russians have got something? Chavasse said.
Craig shook his head. Not yet, but I think they may be very near it. Since 1956, theyve been experimenting with an ionic rocket drive using energy emitted by stars as the motive force.
It sounds rather like something out of a science-fiction story, Chavasse said.
I only wish it were, young man, Professor Craig said gravely. Unfortunately its hard fact, and if we dont come up with another answer quickly we might as well throw in the towel.
And presumably, there is another answer? Chavasse said softly.
The professor adjusted his spectacles carefully and nodded. In normal circumstances, I would have said no, but in view of certain information which has recently come into my hands, it would appear that there is still a chance for us.
The Chief leaned forward. Ten days ago, a young Tibetan nobleman arrived in Srinagar, the capital of Kashmir. Ferguson, our local man, took him in charge. Besides possessing valuable information about the state of things in western Tibet at the present time, he was also carrying a letter for Professor Craig. It was from Karl Hoffner.
Chavasse frowned. Ive heard of him vaguely. Wasnt he some kind of medical missionary in Tibet for years?
The Chief nodded. A very wonderful man whom most people have completely forgotten. Remarkably similar career to Albert Schweitzer. Doctor, musician, philosopher, mathematician. Hes given forty years of his life to Tibet.
And hes still alive? Chavasse said.
The Chief nodded. Living in a small town called Changu about one hundred and fifty miles across the border from Kashmir. Under house arrest, as far as we can make out.
This letter, Chavasse said, turning to Professor Craig. Why was it addressed to you?
Karl Hoffner and I were fellow students and research workers for years. Craig sighed heavily. One of the great minds of the century, Mr. Chavasse. He could have had all the fame of an Einstein, but he chose to bury himself in a forgotten country.
But what was in the letter that was so interesting? Chavasse asked.
On the face of it, nothing very much. It was simply a letter from one old friend to another. Hed apparently heard that this young Tibetan was making a break for it and decided to take the opportunity of writing to me, probably for the last time. Hes in poor health.
How are they treating him?
Apparently quite well. Craig shrugged. He was always greatly loved by the people. Probably the Communists are using him as a sort of symbol. He said in his letter that he had been confined to his house for more than a year and to help pass the time had returned to his greatest love, mathematics.
Presumably this is important?
Karl Hoffner is probably one of the great mathematicians of all time, Professor Craig said solemnly. Do you mind if I get a little technical?
By all means, Chavasse told him.
I dont know the extent of your knowledge of mathematical concepts, Craig said, but you are perhaps aware that Einstein demonstrated that matter is nothing but energy fixed in a rigid pattern?
E equals mc squared. Chavasse grinned. Im with you so far.
In a celebrated thesis written for his doctorate while a young man, Craig went on, Karl Hoffner demonstrated that energy itself is space locked up in a certain pattern. His proof involved an audacious development of non-Euclidean geometry which was as revolutionary as Einsteins theory of relativity.
Now, youve completely lost me, Chavasse said.
It doesnt matter. Craig smiled. Probably only six brains on earth were capable of understanding his theory at the time, such was its complexity. It aroused considerable interest in academic circles and was then virtually forgotten. It was only theoretical, you see. It led nowhere and had no conceivable practical application.