Is it here again?

Will it never cease?

Who is being taken away now?

He never asks these questions. It is not his concern. It is not part of his job. His concern is to press the switches at the right time and in the right way. The mechanism of this door is so delicate that the slightest deviation stops it functioning. The person who manages to open it must put a whole sequence into play at the speed of lightning. No one without authority is to be able to open it. The centre must be defended in every way and from every angle.

The sentry does not know what else may exist further in to secure the centre against hostile attack. He is merely the first line of defence, and not initiated into anything else. He stands on a slab that shows nothing but is so made that, if no one is standing on it weighing it down, shrill alarms will ring inside the walls and behind this spot in the little guardroom, where his relief is resting.

When his watch is up, the relief stands in front of him and looks into his eyes to see if he is the right man. Then he steps on to the slab before the exhausted sentry steps off. His watchful eyes are already on the unlighted lamp in the wall. His fingers are already hovering above the switches. But first there is this rapid scrutiny of the other’s face. A second. It has become a habit, and it puts the whole opening mechanism out of function for that second. For a second they do not watch the lamp but look with anguished eyes at each other.

What are they looking for?

Perhaps for some change?

What then?

But it will not dare reveal itself. This must not be mentioned. They have sold their very selves and know what they are helping to carry in and out. The van merely passes backwards and forwards, and is so tightly sealed that nothing can be seen. But in this second when they meet at the changing of the watch the sentries are filled with anguish over what they have involved themselves in.

We must do it to be sure that the right man is here, they would say in self-defence if the lamp were to light up in this tortured second and they were dragged out to be punished because the mechanism broke down.

In front of this entrance the corridor has been widened and cleared so that there is an open space. It adjoins the great courtyard in the middle of the house, which contains the prison and the stockade round the detainees. Here lies the centre like a large house within the house. Overhead it is dark. If there is any sky up there it always seems to be hidden. Light never comes from it. There must be an enormous roof over it all. Whatever light exists, is created deliberately around the gilded arrows. This house has no need of any other light.