III

Confined to a surface hospital during a relentless whiteout, Zakalwe wrestles with memory loss, clutching at hints—his nurse Talibe’s name on a hidden note, a terror of a white chair, and the bandage on his fractured skull. He wonders why he was shot among his own pilots and broods over the futility of the war on drifting bergs.

Saaz Insile visits, trading gallows humor and concern. Saaz suggests the squadron resents Zakalwe’s outsider courage but insists none would shoot him, deepening the mystery. Later, the perfumed CO Thone pointedly hints at sending Zakalwe away, provoking unease. That night Zakalwe’s memory clicks into place: after drinking with four COs and hearing their coup plans, he pretended sympathy, then reported them to Thone—the supposed loyalist. Men came for him; he smelled Thone’s scent as he was dragged to a hangar and shot during the struggle.

Fearing for his life, Zakalwe asks Talibe to call Insile and the military police. Instead, Talibe overdoses him; officers enter, retrieve her missing scissors, and haul the unconscious Zakalwe away, promising a quick end. He awakens outside on the berg, freezing in hospital pajamas, understanding he has been dumped to die.

As the blizzard numbs him, Zakalwe exposes his chest scar and braces for death. A woman approaches through the storm: Diziet Sma. With uncanny warmth and a hovering module behind her, she frees his frozen hands, helps him stand, and offers a choice—evacuation to the mainland or recruitment to “us.” Zakalwe steps into the module’s heat, realizes it is real, learns her name, and faints, rescued and claimed for a larger game.