The Oracle Read Online Free PDF Page A

griefstruck, confused and bewildered, and desired nothing but oblivion. Sleep, if only for a short time. He found a corner of the room free of antique ceramic fragments and tools, pulled over a bag of sawdust used for cleaning, and collapsed on to it. The light flickered and went out and he closed his eyes, but the great vase continued to gleam behind his eyelids with blinding force.
    T HE GIRL GOT up, half naked, looking for the bathroom. She opened the medicine cabinet and popped an Alka-Seltzer in a glass of water. She watched the bubbles fizzing in the glass as the phone started to ring. She walked into the hall and picked up the receiver with one hand, her drink in the other: ‘Hello?’
    ‘Who the hell are you? Damn it, what are you doing there? Michel, Norman! Call them right away! Call them now, do you understand me?’
    The girl was about to hang the phone up, annoyed, but Michel had awakened and was standing in front of her: ‘Who is it?’
    The girl shrugged and handed him the receiver, beginning to drink her hangover potion.
    ‘Who is it?’
    ‘Michel, for the love of God, get over here . . .’
    ‘Claudio, is that you? What time is it? Where are you?’
    ‘Michel, the army, tanks, they’re attacking the Polytechnic! Please come right away, Heleni is in there, there’s not a minute to lose!’
    ‘All right, Claudio. Tell me exactly where you are.’
    ‘In the telephone booth at Syntagmatos Square.’
    ‘Okay. Don’t move. We’ll be there.’
    ‘No, wait. Patissìon is blocked off, you won’t get through. Take Hippokratous Street and try to go down Tositsa. I’ll wait for you there, in the staff parking lot at the museum. But hurry, for God’s sake, get here as fast as you can!’
    ‘Okay, Claudio, we’re coming right away.’
    He dropped the receiver, ran to the hall and opened the door to the other bedroom. He turned on the light: Norman Shields and the girl he was sleeping with sat up in bed, rubbing their eyes. Michel grabbed Norman’s clothes from a chair and threw them at him.
    ‘The army is attacking the Polytechnic. Claudio’s there, and he needs our help. We have to get over there now. I’ll start up the car.’
    The girl was following him around without understanding a thing, glass still in hand: ‘Would someone please tell me . . .’ But Michel didn’t even hear her. He pulled on some jeans and a sweater, stuck his bare feet into a pair of gym shoes, stuffed some socks into his pockets, grabbed his jacket and raced down the stairs, searching through all his pockets for his car keys.
    The little Citroën started up without any trouble for once, and as he was backing out through the gate, Norman opened the passenger door and got in, still half dressed: ‘Is it that bad? What did he say exactly?’
    ‘The army is attacking the Polytechnic. They’re using tanks.’
    ‘But have they attacked or are they just blocking off the University? Maybe they just want to intimidate them.’
    ‘I don’t know. Claudio is out of his mind. We have to get over there.’
    He took a curve at full speed, tilting the car dangerously and nearly toppling over Norman, who was tying his shoes. Norman muttered: ‘Damn French cars. They make you seasick!’
    Michel pressed down harder on the accelerator. ‘They’ve got soft suspensions. There are lots of cobblestone roads in France. Listen, there should be some Gauloises in the glove compartment. Light one up for me, will you? My stomach hurts.’
    T HE OFFICER WALKED to the middle of the road and began to talk into a battery-run megaphone. His voice was fuzzy and nasal: ‘You have fifteen minutes to clear the premises. I repeat, exit immediately and abandon the University. If these orders are not obeyed, we shall be obliged to take the building by force!’
    The students were crowded into the courtyard behind the gate, bewildered and uncertain, watching the tanks and troops in battle gear. There was a moment of silence, in which only the