[[email protected]]

identified the voice as O'Brien's. But at any
rate the identification existed. It was O'Brien who had spoken to him out
of the dark.
Winston had never been able to feel sure -- even after this morning's
flash of the eyes it was still impossible to be sure whether O'Brien was a
friend or an enemy. Nor did it even seem to matter greatly. There was a
link of understanding between them, more important than affection or
partisanship. 'We shall meet in the place where there is no darkness,' he
had said. Winston did not know what it meant, only that in some way or
another it would come true.
The voice from the telescreen paused. A trumpet call, clear and
beautiful, floated into the stagnant air. The voice continued raspingly:
'Attention! Your attention, please! A newsflash has this moment
arrived from the Malabar front. Our forces in South India have won a
glorious victory. I am authorized to say that the action we are now
reporting may well bring the war within measurable distance of its end.
Here is the newsflash--'
Bad news coming, thought Winston. And sure enough, following on a gory
description of the annihilation of a Eurasian army, with stupendous figures
of killed and prisoners, came the announcement that, as from next week, the
chocolate ration would be reduced from thirty grammes to twenty.
Winston belched again. The gin was wearing off, leaving a deflated
feeling. The telescreen -- perhaps to celebrate the victory, perhaps to
drown the memory of the lost chocolate -- crashed into 'Oceania, 'tis for
thee'. You were supposed to stand to attention. However, in his present
position he was invisible.
'Oceania, 'tis for thee' gave way to lighter music. Winston walked
over to the window, keeping his back to the telescreen. The day was still
cold and clear. Somewhere far away a rocket bomb exploded with a dull,
reverberating roa