The guerrilla hideout. West, handcuffed, looks furious. Carlos paces uneasily up and down.
Carlos Well, look, I’m very sorry, that’s all I can say.
West It’s not enough, I want to know why.
Carlos I told you, there’s been a hitch. A minor hitch, which means we have to delay everything for twenty-four hours.
West Listen, I’ve been very patient cooped up here all these weeks listening to your dreary propaganda, but there’s just so much I can take.
Carlos I’m very sorry, it was my fault, I should never have said anything to you about it yesterday. I thought you’d be pleased to know.
West I was, of course I was, I thought it was true.
Carlos It’s only another twenty-four hours. I promise you you’ll be out tomorrow.
West You’d better give me that in writing.
Carlos We all have to suffer for the cause, comrade.
West I don’t see why I should suffer for your wretched cause.
Carlos Because it’s essential.
West That’s a matter of opinion.
Carlos It’s a matter of fact.
West Look, as far as I’m concerned, there are causes in Brazil which are far more essential. Like, for instance the extermination of the people who used to own this country. That seems to me far more important than replacing one authoritarian government with another.
Carlos Is that what you think we’re trying to do?
West Well, I hardly imagined you had parliamentary democracy in mind.
Carlos Whatever makes you think democracy would be any use to us? Mm? Democracy is a luxury for countries rich enough so it doesn’t matter who they elect. You don’t think we’re risking our lives so we can put in some bumbling idiot who’ll waste all his energy trying not to upset anyone? We’re fighting this war on behalf of the people. What could be more democratic than that?
West Letting the people choose.
Carlos Don’t be absurd. How do you expect people to choose when all they’re worried about is where the next crust of bread is coming from? There are children of eight on the streets of Rio offering themselves to anyone in a suit, you think they’re going to turn into good Democrats? You make me laugh. All this crap about the Indians, it’s just romantic bourgeois sentimentality. Listen, there are ninety million people in this country, and there aren’t enough Indians left to fill up Maracana football stadium. So you say, look after the Indians, after all, poor things, it used to be their country, didn’t it, and they’ll never cause much trouble, because there are hardly any of them left, and they’re not interested anyway. Look after the Indians, you say, but for Christ’s sake don’t look after the ninety million, or you never know what they might start wanting. All your liberal hearts bleed at the thought of those poor naked savages fading away, but it never begins to dribble across your apology for a mind that half a million children under five starved to death in Brazil last year.
West That is a complete perversion of my point of view.
Carlos responds with sounds mimicking West’s pomposity.
(indignant) You people are all the same.
Carlos (enraged) So are you people.
He storms out. West sits, frowning, staring blankly into space. A moment later, Carlos returns with the chess board.
Better we don’t have any more discussions, don’t you think? Better we just play chess. (Pause. He begins setting up the board.) You might even win this time.
West I don’t really feel like it just now.
Carlos goes on calmly distributing the pieces.
Carlos I don’t have anything particular against you. It’s just I can’t help trying.
West What do you mean?
Carlos Che said, if a man is honest, you can make a revolutionary out of him. You seem honest enough.
He selects two pawns and holds his closed fists out towards West. Long pause. Finally, West indicates one, and Carlos opens his fist to show the white pawn. West takes it from him.
Off you go.
West makes an opening move.
West I’ve a feeling I’m going to win.
Blackout.