'And the conspiracy--the organization?
Is it real?
It is not simply an invention of the Thought Police?'
'No, it is real.
The Brotherhood, we call it.
You will never learn much more about the Brotherhood than that it exists and that you belong to it.
I will come back to that presently.' He looked at his wrist-watch. 'It is unwise even for members of the Inner Party to turn off the telescreen for more than half an hour.
You ought not to have come here together, and you will have to leave separately.
You, comrade'--he bowed his head to Julia--'will leave first.
We have about twenty minutes at our disposal.
You will understand that I must start by asking you certain questions.
In general terms, what are you prepared to do?'
'Anything that we are capable of,' said Winston.
O'Brien had turned himself a little in his chair so that he was facing Winston. He almost ignored Julia, seeming to take it for granted that Winston could speak for her.
For a moment the lids flitted down over his eyes.
He began asking his questions in a low, expressionless voice, as though this were a routine, a sort of catechism, most of whose answers were known to him already.
'You are prepared to give your lives?'
'Yes.'
'You are prepared to commit murder?'
'Yes.'
'To commit acts of sabotage which may cause the death of hundreds of innocent people?'
'Yes.'
'To betray your country to foreign powers?'
'Yes.'
'You are prepared to cheat, to forge, to blackmail, to corrupt the minds of children, to distribute habit-forming drugs, to encourage prostitution, to disseminate venereal diseases--to do anything which is likely to cause demoralization and weaken the power of the Party?'
'Yes.'
'If, for example, it would somehow serve our interests to throw sulphuric acid in a child's face--are you prepared to do that?'
'Yes.'
'You are prepared to lose your identity and live out the rest of your life as a waiter or a dock-worker?'
'Yes.'
'You are prepared to commit suicide, if and when we order you to do so?'
'Yes.'
'You are prepared, the two of you, to separate and never see one another again?'
'No!' broke in Julia.
It appeared to Winston that a long time passed before he answered.
For a moment he seemed even to have been deprived of the power of speech.
His tongue worked soundlessly, forming the opening syllables first of one word, then of the other, over and over again.
Until he had said it, he did not know which word he was going to say.
'No,' he said finally.
'You did well to tell me,' said O'Brien.
'It is necessary for us to know everything.' He turned himself toward Julia and added in a voice with somewhat more expression in it:
'Do you understand that even if he survives, it may be as a different person?
We may be obliged to give him a new identity.
His face, his movements, the shape of his hands, the colour of his hair--even his voice would be different.
And you yourself might have become a different person.
Our surgeons can alter people beyond recognition.
Sometimes it is necessary.
Sometimes we even amputate a limb.'
Winston could not help snatching another sidelong glance at Martin's Mongolian face.
There were no scars that he could see.