A/N: Thats the last part, finished already some months ago. Please excuse my not always perfect grammar.
DRUNKEN LANDLORD: Hey, thanks a lot. Here you are.
The overground levels of the old, decayed-looking building were where the unpersons lived. There they found sleeping rooms, rooms to cook their meals and rooms to spent their time. Besides them there were other members that were assigned to arrange their concerns outside the world. The building was a refugee, an asylum for many of those unpersons. All the time it was full of people. It seemed that the brotherhood took care for every single thing. They had even an underground level, one above where the Telescreen Hackers were working, where there was a connection to the canalization. There the brotherhood had established contact to a great number of prolean youth gangs, which helped them spread revolution among the proles.
In the upper levels there was a department whose rooms were called "Existence Renewal Rooms" (ERR). That was where they helped the new unpersons who had been in Room 101 of miniluv, people like Winston, to get over what had happened to them. That was where Winston spent most of his time. There were some men, called Psychatrists, who were working with him. Sometimes it was even Wallace. The other men were fine doctors, of course, but Winston especially liked to talk to Wallace. He remembered how Wallace had told him: "You do exist. You think you don´t exist because the Party told you that you do not exist. Because you are sitting here, breathing and listening, the Party was essentially wrong. But there is another argument. You surely had to deal with jobs concerning 'unpersons'. 'Unpersons' is a Newspeak word that simply means 'nonexistent persons'. But if you accept that, you also have to admit that everyone else is an 'existent person'. The Party´s opinion of 'alive' and 'dead' proves its nothingness."
Another time he had said: "Here are two buttons, and here is another pair. If you count them, you get four. Now drink two bottles of wine, and you might see five, six, seven, eight, you might even believe it, but physically there are always four buttons."
And again, another time, he had explained: "If there weren´t so rare opportunities to commit suicide today, many more people would. Do you know that it is Thoughtcrime to consider committing suicide? There has been a word for it. In the first Newspeak edition, but it was abolished already in the second. It became an 'Unword'. That word was razorbladethink."
Winston wondered how many cases like his were dealt with at the same time. Wallace told him that he was doing much better than anyone before. Maybe that was because one could choose the length of the therapy sessions and interrupt them at any time. Winston day after day was the first one in one of the ERR´s, going there at six o´clock, and always left at one at night. In the midday hours he preferred to stay there instead of having lunch. Thus he got as thin and crooked as before, but he felt better every day, and they actually had an ointment that made his varicose ulcer become better.
One morning, he looked into the dim light with dreary eyes and felt alive. And suddenly he was overcome with pain, pain beyond everything. And then, more clearly than ever, he saw Big Brother. Big Brother was embracing him, comforting him.
As Wallace came in, Winston couldn´t decide between weeping and laughing happily. "I´m sorry," he said. "I love Big Brother, and I don´t think that this is going to change ever."
Wallace said, "I don´t think so. You are doing fine. The poison inside you feels that it gets cured, and now it is fighting its mortal agony. You are ready now. Martin, please take him to Room 007."
Room 007 was a room which walls were all mirrors, and on the opposite wall, there was a telescreen. Turned off.
"I´ll leave you alone now," he heard Martin´s fair voice. "Don´t worry, after this you are a new human. Or, more exactly, you become the old Winston."
Winston doubted this, because he felt that inside him, there was a unbreakable core that loved Big Brother and wouldn´t stop that, whatever he did.
The telescreen snapped to life. He saw a dark-haired girl, sitting on a chair, tied up and struggling to free her hands, without effort.
There was a faint call inside Winston´s mind...
Suddenly, there were hundreds of dirty rats, crawling towards the girl, who was now squeaking in disgust. Winston was totally disgusted, too, and he wanted it to stop, but he couldn´t even turn his head away from the telescreen and the dreadful scenery.
The rats had reached the girl and were now crawling all over her. Winston couldn´t bear to look at this, but it was reversed hundred times, everywhere in the room and the rats were squeaking, too, loud and frightening. Winston felt how his mind got battered by this, it had to stop immediately, but the door was shut, he couldn´t get out and he couldn´t do anything, this was only a telescreen. Somewhere in this world there was something going on that was worse than anything, and it got even worse as the girl started to look familiar to him.
The rats were biting her everywhere, she was bleeding, and she let out a single shriek, then two and then was screaming endlessly. It was too much for Winston. He felt his heart break in two, and a razor blade chopped down this hard core inside him, he was in the most horrible world that was possible. And he was screaming in desperation as he finally recognized the girl: "Julia! NOOOOOO! STOP IT! DO IT TO ME! NOT HER! DO IT TO MEEEEEEE!"
The world vanished as his scream and the allconsuming noise from the telescreen became one.
He woke up lying on solid ground, on a white sickbed. His body felt like a bag of knives, but he knew that there was no Big Brother any more. Wallace was standing beside him.
"The Party has been burned out of you, Winston."
Winston looked at his hands and couldn´t believe it, but he felt, he knew it was right.
"Now you are ready to become one of us. Do you remember the additional task I gave you?"
"You mean, to get to know whether it is possible to get O´Brien on our side?" He wasn´t sure about the possibilitiy of that and feared that there was no... But then he remembered how O´Brien had said: "They got me a long time ago, Winston."
"Yes. This will be what we´ll discuss the next days. But now, you should know that there is someone waiting for you outside."
Winston wondered who it was and looked to Wallace in surprise, but Wallace smiled and gestured to the door. So Winston stood up and went out.
Outside, he found out that he was in the long entrance hall again. And then he saw who was at the opposide and started to run as fast as he could with his varicose ulcer.
In the middle, he met with Julia. At once he knew that she also had been here for some time. She was thin again, too, and the scar across her forehead didn´t matter anymore, all in all she was more beautiful than ever. She jumped into his open arms and clasped together, they shared a hungry kiss.
O´Brien was walking out of his office. It had been an interesting day. He had had some delicate cases of Thoughtcriminals and broken their once proud, free-feeling and wild Minds one after another. For the Party it had been an eventful day, too. Especially for the Ministries of Love and Truth, who were facing a good deal of work. It was simple in fact, and it was simple in the begin for two sentences that counted: Oceania is at war with Eurasia and Eastasia: Oceania has always been at war with Eurasia and Eastasia.
It was not a dangerous situation, only the effect of the fact that Oceania had become too powerful in Africa and India, and so it had been only a question of weeks until the other two superstates would ally and declare war on Oceania. And he personally was looking forward to a comfortable evening with a bottle of wine...
He rounded a corner and suddenly his world fell into pieces.
"You! You two! That´s... thats... impossible..." He stumbled back.
"Suffering a 1st range obsession of power. Seems not curable the normal way." said Martin.
"Room 101" said Winston.
O´Brien knew what was going to happen there already, as they took him. And he knew that he would be a completely different man afterwards. He had lived in the knowledge that he was powerful, but since he couldn´t have absolute power over the human mind, he knew that it was all useless, and he became aware of his own weakness, of his own real existence. The Party really died that moment.
But the Party got abolished not until some years had passed. One day, the population was suffering under the permanent total war, under more rocket bombs than ever and even under atomic bombs, falling and leaving nothing behind. This was the hour that the proles claimed their right, and from there on, the future belonged to them, without controlling the past and without controlling anyone in his freedom in the present