Read Online Red Crystal by Clare Francis - Free Book Online

he had done nothing illegal, nor had he done anything to suggest he was interfering in the country’s internal affairs. Thus he remained free to go about his business.
    And now he watched. And listened. He knew Petrini well; they were old acquaintances. But he wondered which of these vociferous young people would in the years to come forget their anger and become model citizens, and which would never forget, but move forward to the point where they felt impelled to become active against capitalist society – which of them, in fact, he should get to know. The dazzling Cohn-Bendit? The next speaker, the earnest Belgian theorist? The funny, uncertain young English girl?
    The only thing he knew from experience was that you could never tell.
    It was four in the morning. Gabriele was in the young Italian’s room.
    She sat in a chair, regarding him with open interest. He was better looking than she had thought. The beard suited his distinctive features: the rich black hair, the long straight nose and dark hooded eyes. Very physical.
    Yes, Gabriele decided, he would round the day off nicely.
    His name was Giorgio.
    He appeared to be Petrini’s helper, his orderer of food and fetcher of information, a role he played with the lazy amused feebleness of a child humouring a parent.
    After the rally she and Max had met the student leaders – Cohn-Bendit, Sauvageot, Dutschke, the Germans, Belgians and Italians – over long discussions at the students’ union.
    Later Petrini had bought dinner for at least twenty of them. There was fillet steak and spring vegetables and plenty of good wine. Afterwards they went back to Petrini’s room to talk again. In a series of brilliant submissions he had argued for the need to polarize the two halves of society and to demonstrate to people how empty and meaningless their lives really were. To do this dissidents had to be properly organized in active units. If necessary they must be prepared to use force to highlight the ruthless repression of the system …
    Gabriele had followed his arguments carefully, grasping each thought and storing it carefully away in the back of her mind.
    Afterwards she remembered one phrase in particular: ‘… people need to have the injustices of the world demonstrated to them, so that their own thoughts, which may be no more than suspicions, shall be crystallized in their minds …’
    Crystallized … That word again.
    But now it was four in the morning, and the talking had stopped. Everyone had gone to bed. Max had found a floor somewhere. And she was here, with Giorgio. She had already decided to sleep with him. She liked making these decisions in isolation, at her own whim. That way she kept control.
    Now she glanced around the comfortable hotel room. ‘This is very grand,’ she remarked. ‘Do you always live like this?’
    ‘Petrini does,’ Giorgio replied slowly. ‘So when he pays, I live like this too.’ He spoke English with a heavy Italian accent which she liked.
    She wandered round the room to show that she hadn’t made up her mind to stay. She was still high on the wine and the charge she’d got from the speech, and she wanted him to make a play for her, so that she could hold back and exasperate him a little. It would be more exciting that way.
    ‘Do you work for Petrini?’ she asked.
    He seemed amused by the question. ‘No. I work for myself.’
    ‘Well? What is it you do?’
    He shrugged, immediately bored by the question. ‘I do what I want.’
    ‘Are you …’ She hesitated. The question she wanted to ask was difficult to put directly. ‘Are you an activist ?’
    He gave her a long stare, as if considering whether or not to take her into his confidence. Then he raised his eyebrows and smiled suggestively. ‘Of course.’
    She realized he had purposely misunderstood her. She said impatiently, ‘I mean, are you involved in a dissident group?’
    He sighed. Deliberately ignoring the question he said, ‘I’m tired. I’m going to