The Prisoner's Dilemma

by Sean Stuart O'Connor

  ‘We must go down,’ she said softly, and Immanuel closed his book and together they descended the staircase. Sophie looked at him as he went ahead of her – so young and so naïve, she thought to herself, really, he’s just a child. What would become of him?

  They came to the hall and Sophie knocked on the door of the study. There was no answer and she gently pushed it open and peered around its edge to see if they could enter. As she did so, her mother caught sight of her and rushed across the room, her arms outstretched.

  ‘Oh, Sophie, Sophie. Only you can save us.’

  Sophie took a step into the room in alarm.

  ‘What do you mean, Mama? Save you? Papa, what is this? What does she mean?’

  Sophie looked towards where Herr Kant was standing by his desk but instead of meeting her eye he glanced quickly away and gazed down at his hands. He drew a deep breath. Then, slowly and in the grip of much wretched stuttering, he explained the story of his ruinous agreement with Zweig, of his insane gamble and of its terrible outcome. As he finished he turned away and spoke in a bitter, despairing gasp.

  ‘In short, I am due for the cost of the hides, the ship and the loss of income that Zweig has suffered. I have only one week to find the money. You saw that he came here earlier to press me for payment.’

  He looked away and his chest rose and fell in heavy, anguished panting. Sophie continued to wait for an answer to her question. Her father came out of his thoughts and squared his shoulders.

  ‘But he came also to give me an alternative. He has put a proposition to me that …’ Kant stopped speaking for a moment and put his hand on the surface of the desk. He seemed to stare at it now as if he had never noticed it before, but then looked up, frantic and tense, and blurted out his news.

  ‘Oh, Sophie, it is like a dagger in the heart, my dearest. He has proposed a way out that only you can fulfill. It …it seems he has fallen in love with you. He says he knew it from the first moment he ever set eyes on you. And he has …he has asked for your hand in marriage …and in place of a dowry he will forgive the debt. There, it is out. I have said it.’

  He looked up at Sophie with his head half lowered and he smiled at her in a way she had never seen before. It was part embarrassment, part shame and, she noticed with a sick realisation, part pleading.

  Never had the words of the great Prussian poet, Dieter Goehren, been more apt.

  ‘How narrow is the path of the human mind,’ he had famously written, ‘the smallest step and we cross from one side to the other.’

  Sophie now took just such a step. In an instant she saw how deeply foolish she had been in her regard for Zweig and how utterly misled she had been by the blind delusion of her heart. What she had taken for careful thoughtfulness in him she now saw was simply the worst kind of low cunning. Now, too, she saw that his great and seemingly sincere courtesy was little more than an elegant arrangement of bait for the unwary. And his natural authority, that sense of command that had so intrigued and attracted her, well, it was nothing other than the need to bully and oppress. She saw him clearly now; she saw him stripped to the baseness of his motives, the fine clothes he had cloaked them in removed and discarded. Why, he was no different from any other money-grabbing trickster. Worse in fact, he was a tyrant, a monster!

  ‘How disgusting, Papa. What a disgusting proposal!’ she cried. But, even as she did so, she saw a twisted, pleading look come into her father’s face. She persisted, hoping against everything she was seeing that her father would not abandon her.

  ‘How could he hold you to ransom like that? I don’t even know him. How can he suggest such a thing – it’s despicable!’

  Her parents glanced at each other and her mother took a step forward.

  ‘But, Sophie, my dearest, you are wrong. He is a good man. Everyone says so. A powerful man, it’s true, but good. Dearest, we are on the street if you refuse him. We shall starve. You alone can rescue us.’

  Sophie took a step backwards and her hand went to her mouth, horrified to see how quickly Zweig had travelled in her mother’s opinion from someone who wished to have them finished to being a good man.

  Worse to see was the way her father nodded his agreement with his wife’s views. His earlier reluctance and stammered embarrassment seemed to have evaporated.

  ‘Please say you will accept him, Sophie. Or at least say that you will consider his proposal.’

  ‘I can’t believe you are asking this of me,’ said Sophie, frantically. ‘How can you?’

  Her father spoke quietly and firmly.

  ‘Sophie, with Zweig we can rise again. Without him we fall. He leaves in three days on a journey that he says will make him a greater fortune than all his others. When he returns in a few weeks, he will be one of the richest men in Königsberg. Please let me take your answer back to him. Please let it be your agreement.’

  Sophie was silent as she struggled to take in what she was hearing. Then, from nowhere, she was struck by a thought.

  ‘But if your ship was lost in these awful storms, why is he taking the same risk in the same weather? What if this voyage should see this ship founder as well?’

  Kant returned in an instant to his business-like self.

  ‘I asked him that myself and together we have reached an agreement. The journey should take no more than two months. We added more days to account for a setback. But, if the captain does not return within a hundred days then the debt will be cancelled.’

  ‘A hundred days!’ Sophie repeated. ‘Then we must pray that he fails. And count the days.’

  Her father looked down at his desk again, his negotiating position appearing to stall before his eyes.

  ‘I fear there is another condition, my dearest. I am so sorry. He is insisting that you go with him on the voyage. He says that he would not want you to marry him without seeing him as he is. He wishes you to get to know him better. I’m sorry. He was unmovable on this point.’

  Anger rose in Sophie again.

  ‘So, I am to be sent off into this awful winter weather, which has already claimed one ship and with it our livelihood. To be with that loathsome man?’

  She looked at her parents’ exhausted, yearning expressions and could take no more. She fled from the room and ran, weeping, up the long staircase to her room. There she stayed, refusing all food or company, despite the protestations and pleading of her mother that came from beyond the locked door. But two days later she softened, exhausted, thinking of her poor little brother and his strange unworldliness, and of her mother’s terrible anguish. She unlocked the door and sat back down on her bed. Frau Kant turned the handle and came into the room, tense and red eyed.

  ‘There is no way out,’ said Sophie flatly, her gaze fixed on the wall. ‘I shall have to go. Oh, Mama. What can I do but go? Who would ever care for you or Immanuel if we were to lose everything? How can I ever have anything but contempt for Zweig after this but …’ and she looked away with such fear on her face that her mother instinctively gasped ‘…if, …if I survive, I shall be able to say I now know him, know everything about him, and still feel nothing but disgust.’

  Her voice rose as her spirit returned.

  ‘Let him want to marry me then! If he dare. And who knows, he may be so rich by the time he comes back that he’ll have lost interest in having a viper like me at his throat. Come, Mama, we must find clothes for a sea voyage.’

  Chapter 5

  Later that night Zweig stood at the stern of his ship and watched as the cargo was loaded. There were few people about the quay other than a scattering of dockside idlers and some of these muttered to each other as they observed the air of secrecy that seemed to be surrounding the operation. A couple of them, huddled together, speculated in hushed tones about what kind of commercial rabbit the captain would be pulling from his hat this time. The crew worked steadily on and orders were given yet again that time was of the essence.

  Suddenly from out of the gloom came a low voice.

  ‘Captain Z
weig?’

  ‘Yes, who’s that?’

  ‘My name is Schwerin, sir. I come with information about a lady.’

  ‘Up here. Brunner, let him through.’

  Schwerin nodded to the quartermaster as he came aboard.

  ‘I thought you might be interested, sir,’ he said as he reached Zweig, ‘I am on friendly terms with the Kant household, well, with one young lady’s maid in particular.’ Zweig waited in silence for the man to continue. ‘I understand there has been some hesitation. But the lady in question has now decided to see foreign lands. I thought you would wish to know.’

  Zweig looked at the man’s smirking face with dislike and then moved to gaze over his shoulder to where half a dozen of the crew were moving the arm of a derrick, hoisting on board some particularly large barrels.

  ‘Take great care with those barrels!’ he called out in a fierce whisper. ‘Brunner, tell the men to be more careful. They are not to be dropped at any cost. Not if you wish for a share of the voyage. And you …’ he dropped his voice as he turned back to Schwerin and passed him a coin, ‘…on your way now. And not a word of this ladies’ gossip to anyone.’

  * * *

  By the next morning the work was complete. The ship stood ready to depart as a bitter wind hurtled across the dockside, shrieking in the rigging of a hundred or more vessels that fretted and leapt at their moorings like so many head of cattle before the slaughterhouse gate. Sleet slashed down from the north, and the mouth of the river was shrouded in a mist so dank that it chilled the blood. The misery in the weather, however, was as nothing compared to the blackness that had descended on the little party that approached the quayside. At its centre was Sophie Kant, holding her father’s arm as she leant on him for support.

  To her horror she saw the ship’s crew lined up on the deck, dressed in their best uniforms and with flowers in their hats as if for a wedding. Their honest sailors’ faces seemed to beam at the prospect of their captain’s happiness. From his position aft, Zweig had seen the party arrive and he now came towards them in delight.

  ‘Welcome. Welcome to the Schwarzsturmvogel,’ he called down. ‘Sophie, how wonderful it is to see you, you have made me very, very happy. And you have never looked more fine than you do today. I thank you from the bottom of my heart for agreeing to come on our voyage. Herr Kant, Frau Kant, you will be worried for her, of that I do not doubt. But you have my word that I shall bring her home safe and happy. I shall protect her with my life, you may rely on that, with my life I say.’

  Sophie looked again at the sailors and their flowers.

  So, they know, she thought, and if they know then the whole world will know. Now, more than ever before, she realised that she should never have come – how could she have relented? Even if she returned and somehow managed to reject Zweig she would always be the woman that had sailed away with him, unmarried and unaccompanied. Her shoulders sagged at the thought and she gave a deep groan. Bitterly, she saw the future: if she returned then she would have no reputation left to her - or rather, she would have the very worst of reputations. And if she did not? Then she would have died, and died alone.

  As the full enormity of the step she was taking fell on her, her courage finally failed. She sank again onto her father’s arm and the tears that she’d been holding back for so long now poured out unchecked. The little family gathered around and it was only when Immanuel stroked her arm and murmured that he would see her again in as little as two months that her resolve stiffened. She gave a small nod of her head to a waiting sailor. He picked up her cases and, without a backward glance, she walked up the gangplank towards the Schwarzsturmvogel’s deck.

  * * *

  Three days later Sophie had still not left her cabin.

  At around eleven o’clock on the third of these, there was a soft knock on her door. The handle turned and Zweig’s great frame filled the tiny doorway.

  ‘Sophie. Good morning. I trust you are well,’ he said brightly. ‘I had feared that you were seasick but I’m told you are a natural sailor.’ There was no answer but he continued to smile down at her as she sat by her berth. ‘I was looking forward to showing you the ship, he continued, I know of your scientific interests and I thought you would like to see how we navigate our position and work the sails.’

  Sophie continued to stare bitterly down towards the slatted flooring of the cabin, refusing to answer or even acknowledge his presence.

  ‘Please don’t stay shut away in here,’ Zweig said, now more quietly, ‘the men are worried for you. And, you must know, I wish for nothing but your happiness.’

  Whilst he said this Sophie had not taken her eyes from the decking. Now she lifted her head and rose from the chair to look Zweig full in the face.

  ‘If you do not know why I am here then you must be a madman.’ She whispered this quickly in a low, hoarse voice but her tone rose as the anger mounted in her. ‘Yes, a madman. You think I’m here for my happiness? You think I want to be with you? You come to my father’s house with your disgusting blackmail; you do not so much as look at me, never even a word. Then you take me as a hostage for your debt, a debt so deceitfully arrived at that you should be in prison for it. And now you think I can make all this disappear in the name of your one sided love! Be clear Zweig. I see through you. I see through your schemes. How dare you presume that I should ever feel anything for you but contempt. Happy? Leave me alone.’

  Zweig listened to this torrent in silence, his look downcast. There was an air of immovable dignity in his manner as he heard Sophie out. Of understanding, but not without sadness. Now he replied in a soft and measured tone.

  ‘Sophie. You must know this. I have loved you from the first second I saw you. For weeks afterwards I thought of nothing but you. I had no rest, I moved about as if in a dream. Then I saw you again at that bear garden in the Rathaus. We spoke and I knew then that my soul would never be complete as long as we were apart. I had no idea how to proceed. But fate intervened. Your father fell into debt with me and I knew he would be ruined if I insisted on repayment. Then I saw that some good could come of it. There was no blackmail, it was just my destiny that I saw before me. The money means nothing to me. My life will be unchanged without it. But my life would be destroyed without you.’ He paused for a moment to look at her. ‘I see how you feel about me now but I hope and pray that you will come to view me in a different light in time. Sophie, you know it all now.’

  There was a silence. Sophie continued to stare coldly back at him in reply and he knew there was nothing more to be said. He gave a quick nod of quiet respect and took a step back, gently closing the door as he did so.

  * * *

  For two days more Sophie endured the suffocation of her tiny cabin. The weather had been kind to them in the Baltic as they’d travelled west towards Kiel but now as Zweig altered course north towards the Kattegat the vessel beat into the vicious headwinds that hurtled down the length of the Storebælt. Progress had been painfully slow for thirty hours or more and the troubled seas had exhausted the crew as they’d fought for every inch of headway. At last they’d reached calmer waters as they rounded the top of Sjælland and, as the wind veered round, Sophie decided that facing Zweig again was preferable to the insanity that threatened her if she spent another day in her cot.

  As she emerged from below deck two sailors passed her and knuckled their foreheads. She ignored them and walked aft towards where Zweig stood looking out from the stern rail with his sailing master. The two men were deep in discussion as they prepared to let out a thin line with a log attached at the head and knots at regular intervals. She saw them work and watched in absorbed fascination as Zweig threw the log to trail behind the ship and the Master turned over a measuring glass. As the sands ran through, Zweig marked the distance by counting the knots in the line. The two of them then conferred, their heads close together, huddled over a compass and frequently turning to consult the wind and current conversion tables they had with them.

  So
phie had not moved, astonished that this was the way they must be navigating. She’d had no idea that their methods would be so crude and she saw at once why so many ships could be lost at sea.

  A sailor moved towards the two men and coughed. Zweig glanced up and, seeing the sailor’s pointed nod, looked beyond him to where Sophie stood watching them. With a delighted smile he immediately passed his calculations to the Master.

  ‘Sophie!’ he called out. ‘How good it is to see you on deck.’

  He began to walk towards her but before he had taken a dozen steps disaster struck. High above them, a tar called Burkhardt was shaking out a furl in the topmast staysail when he glanced down towards the deck and saw his captain striding up to Miss Kant – the Miss Kant they had all been discussing. So, she’d decided to face him again, he thought, more than interested to see what happened next. In spite of the strong blow that was keeping the topmast crew glued to the arm he whistled excitedly and called to the next man outboard on the ratline, a high spirited, freckled boy who was known, inevitably, as Schnapps.

  ‘Schnapps! Look below. The captain’s beauty is out!’

  Schnapps was little more than a child and barely two weeks into his topmast time. Anxious and eager to please, he grinned at Burkhardt and his attention shifted as he looked quickly downwards to where the man was pointing towards the deck. Many were the times that Burkhardt had told him the priorities of safety but in his excitement the rules were forgotten. A wicked yaw threw the vessel sideways and as the masts came over the boy, his concentration lost, slipped his handhold. Too late he tried to save himself, grasping desperately at nothing and then clawing the air as he tumbled towards the sea, shouting for help as he fell.

  Zweig heard Schnapps scream out and immediately ran to the rail as the boy hit the water. He saw his hand come up and as the boat righted and surged forwards again, he grabbed a wooden raft and threw it out as far as he could in the boy’s direction. He then turned and shouted an order to the sailor that was standing next to him, staring down into the water.