to be a meeting of kindred spirits. Marshal Amin needed support as his friends became fewer and his paranoia swelled to the size of a cathedral. Robert Ashes got the Anti-Smuggling Unit draft because of his knowledge of boats, and he advised the Marshal to build a navy. They discussed weapons, whisky, music. In due time he honed the Marshalâs paranoia and told him which general to demote, or send abroad as ambassador or place at the head of a phantom coup plot. He married a black woman and settled.
VICTORIA WAITED TWO MONTHS before breaking the news: the miracle had happened; she was pregnant. They were at the lake walking side by side on a Sunday afternoon. The sun was shining brightly, and apart from the noise of the birds in the trees the place was quiet. She held Batâs hand, turned her head to look him in the eye and broke the news. He looked like somebody woken from a dream-laden sleep, the eyes slightly unfocused, the mouth a bit ajar, the brow creased pensively. His face wore a puzzled look, then relaxed into a neutral expression, neither happy nor sad, as if saying, What do you expect me to say?
âPregnant.â The word seemed to stay in the air for a long time.
âYes, I am two months pregnant,âshe said cautiously, valiantly trying to dam her ecstasy.
âWhy did you wait this long to tell me?â
âI wanted to make sure.â
âWhat do you want to do with it?â
âTo keep it, of course.â
âAbort.â His voice seemed to come from afar, slightly tremulous, as if calling back his university days, when he had given such an order and it had been obeyed. His heart was pumping hard and he felt slightly out of breath.
âI want to keep the child.â Victoriaâs voice was high, plaintive, her face troubled.
âThe situation is too hot. People are getting killed every day. Can you guarantee the safety of the child?â
âYou talk like a mathematician. There are no guarantees in life.â
âI want to limit the risks. I donât want to be at the office and at the same time wondering if my child is safe.â
âI want to have the baby.â
âIt would be best for you to return to your home. I will give you financial support.â Batâs heart was beating even harder; not only was he facing rebellion from the person closest to him; he did not know what would come of all this.
âI want to stay with you. I have no family,â Victoria said, infusing her voice with genuine desperation.
âYou have friends. You can always hire help.â
âIt is not the same thing. I want to be with you, cook for you.â
âI already have a cook. All I need is space to concentrate on my work. If you insist on staying, well, it is a big house. You will get bored to death. If you decide to leave, inform me.â
It was not terribly romantic, but she wanted a foot in the door. Some dreams needed a little pushing along the way. âIt is fine with me. I want to stay and share Godâs blessing with you.â
A WEEK LATER Bat received news that the Professorâs brother had been found dead near his home. He drove to the Professorâs home located on one side of Makerere University Hill. The journey brought back memories, his university days, the post-independence political situation, especially the bombardment of the kingâs palace in 1966 by Colonel Amin on the orders of President Obote. It was the longest and most frightful gun battle he had ever heard. At one time he thought the whole city had been bombed to the ground.
He parked outside the Professorâs house, took a long breath and got out of the car. His friend came out to meet him, his teary eyes red. As he hugged him, he felt the Professorâs arms shaking. They sat down on the veranda and looked into the distance.
âIf things continue this way, I will seriously consider emigrating. What sort of country is this where people get