Hubbard, L. Ron (19 page)

"Who is this man?" said the Lieutenant to Johnson.

The naval officer looked uncomfortable. "He is a great man in our country, the leader of the majority group of the Senate and chairman of the Foreign Affairs and Colonies Committee."

"Committee?" said the Lieutenant, for the word had taken on poison from the B.C.R "Yes," beamed Frisman. "And my worthy friend, Senator Breckwell of Ohio, is the leading light of the second great party of the United States, the Socialist Party."

England's Socialist leader had led an abortive revolt, starting it with the assassination of many members of Parliament. The leader, on trial, had gone free by giving up his lists and was later shot as a traitor by his own people. The Lieutenant gave Jefferson Breckwell a very perfunctory glance.

He had no respect for creeds or statesmen: between the two the Continent and the British Isles had been destroyed. Thirty million fighting men and three hundred million civilians had paid with their lives for mistaken faith in creeds and statesmen.

The Lieutenant turned to the naval officer. Here he had someone with whom he could talk, that he could anticipate, and, as one military leader to another, trust.

"We do not need these things," said the Lieutenant. "We have almost doubled our population in two years and we have the situation in hand. We have food and we are happy. Machines only make unemployment and, ultimately, politicians out of otherwise sensible men.

Understand me, Captain Johnson, for I speak true. We thank you for your aid, but we do not need it. An influx of food and machines would disrupt this country no less than a horde of strangers. We have found that it is better to build than to destroy, for in building there is occupation for the body and the mind. When each man does his best with his materials at hand, he is proud of his work and is happy with his life. Hatred only rises when some agency destroys or attempts to destroy those things of which we are the most proud
¯
our crafts, our traditions, our faith in man.

"Captain Johnson, I have always been a soldier. Until a few years ago I was continually surrounded by war; I did not know that such a thing as peace existed. I saw great, intricate fabrics of nations come tearing down to dust and rubble and death; hatred was the cause of this, a hatred bred by politicians against politicians, creeds battling senseless creeds. In the last years I have found what peace could mean and I am not anxious for war."

"We do not come speaking of war," said Johnson, aghast.

"The first step in any war is the landing of armed forces. A plane overhead, marines out there on the landing, a cruiser off Sheerness-"

"Sir," cried Frisman, "the United States of America is a peace-loving nation. We withdrew from the second phase of World War II because we were atomic bombed, and sensibly refrained from re-entering even when we had completely rebuilt because we well knew that we alone would be the well of civilization when all here was destroyed. And now we mean to rescue an exhausted people and restore the bright light of culture
¯
"

"Captain Johnson," said the Lieutenant, "at one time this nation was densely overpopulated. The weak and stupid were supported by the king with a dole. We shipped in great quantities of raw materials and manufactured them. We shipped in our food or starved. But this land is fertile and this nation can support itself Empire was a mirage. With it this land was involved in war. With it this land starved. We have lost all our weaklings now. We are seven hundred and fifty thousand people, and not until almost a century has sped will we begin to take up the available land. Perhaps then we will go all through the cycle once more. But just now we see ahead a century of plenty and therefore a century of internal peace. Then, perhaps, war will come again. But it will not come until we again have so little that people will be foolish enough to listen to the harpings of political mob makers. A new influx of population now will restore that chaotic stupidity which your civilian friend here calls 'culture: The only good government is that government under which a people is busy and, as an individual, is valued for himself. Such a government exists. We want no machines, no colonizers, no foreign 'culture: We are not an exhausted people, but a small, compact band that was strong enough to survive bullets and bombs, starvation and disease.

"I am neither a politician nor a statesman; I am a soldier. I know nothing of the chicanery which goes by the name of diplomacy. But I learned long ago that there is only one way to rule, and that is for the good of all; that the function of a commanding officer of a company or a state is to protect the rights of the individual within the bounds of common good, but never to trifle with the actual welfare of any man or to attempt to carry any man beyond his own ability and strength, for to do so weakens the position of all and is not for the common good. A state, gentlemen, is not a charity institution. On this score alone I cannot accept your gifts. Now, if you please, the interview is ended. I shall be pleased to receive a report from my Sheerness Battery commander tomorrow morning that the horizon is empty."

Swinburne had never heard the Lieutenant speak before, had never believed that he could. But now he knew that the Lieutenant had pleaded for the life of the country he had returned from the dead and it seemed that he had won.

Yes, it seemed that he had won. Captain Johnson stood up. Frisman glared, but was too baffled to find anything to say. Breckwell grinned a foolish and bewildered grin. This boy in faded blue, backed by his battle cape and flanked by his helmet, had made no move toward them. He had anticipated their desires, had fully outlined, by inference, their plans. He had left them nothing whatever to advance, for any effort to compel him would be to accept the low valuations he had put upon such motives. In the face of what he had said, the only decent thing to do would be to leave England strictly alone.

Frisman writhed. He had a high opinion of his own diplomatic talents and of his silver tongue. And yet, here was a soldier, actually a junior officer of some sort, completely outmaneuvering him. Every method of advance had been stopped, completely and thoroughly. They could not attack, for he had told them that the place was defenseless against them. They could not buy him, because he said that food and machinery would ruin his country. They could not colonize the place, because, guilelessly, he had made that into the form of a national insult. He had not threatened or argued, for they had been able to advance only a small portion of their desires before he had grasped them all and had thrown them back in their faces.

Frisman almost heeded Captain Johnson's tugging hand. But then, before Frisman arose the figure of himself in the United States Senate, pleading with tears in his voice to succor the starving women and children of Europe, begging an appropriation for the cause and not once mentioning the possibilities of colonization, for the press had been extremely trying of late on the subject of the new-reborn imperialistic aims of the Social-Democratic regime. And Frisman saw himself going back, his succor refused, his appropriation unspent and himself the butt of the minority jokes. Suddenly it came over him that he had been trussed up in a snare of words, that it did not matter what he said, backed up as he was by a cruiser. But still, the strange quietness of this officer
¯
No. No, he could not threaten. He did not know if Johnson would back.

Before him rose up the images of all those millions and millions of idle workers who had boosted him to where he was on the promise that he would give them the wide horizons to redeem, in place of those huge areas of radioactive prohibited land. This country alone would take twenty million of them. And what projects for an industrial state! To rebuild. To restore the nation which had given birth to the United States. How his name would thunder down the pages of history!

He had had a plan. All this had evolved from one incident. America had gotten along so well for so long without Europe that public sentiment had been against any future interference whatever until
¯

Johnson was beckoning, having already gotten Breckwell to the door which Carstair held open. Frisman felt that the pause was awkward, but he knew that if he left this room, the whole project was at an end and his promises and pleas were all empty.

"Lieutenant," said Frisman, stepping up to the desk again, "there is one fact with which I feel I should acquaint you for your own peace of mind."

The Lieutenant did not speak.

"This spring," said Frisman, "there arrived on our Florida coast a Spanish fishing vessel. It held a very strange crew and stranger passengers. And the tales which were told by these passengers of the rapacity of the present English government stirred our populace until something had to be done. We heard of the wanton murder of your last Communist ruler, of soldiers pillaging and burning all that was left of England, of children starving and women despoiled. This cruel aftermath of a devastating war was more than our people could permit. They demanded that something be done.

The passengers of that fishing vessel are aboard the U.S.S. New York, off Sheerness. What shall I tell them?"

As Frisman had spoken, the Lieutenant had tensed. He came suddenly to his feet now, white of visage and harsh of voice. "Who are these liars?"

"The heads of the British army in France," said Frisman. "General Victor and his adjutant, Colonel Smythe."

Swinburne had swiftly capped the Lieutenant's holster flap. Frisman completely missed the byplay.

"We cannot allow," said Frisman, "a continuance of such affairs. Our people would denounce us. As the chosen representative of a powerful government I must demand that a place be made for these two officers so that they can be certain their land will not be completely shattered. And you cannot help but accede to this, for they are, in the final analysis, your own superiors?'

Swinburne spoke. "You seem to forget that you speak to the ruler of England. Such demands are no less insulting than your accusations. He has bidden you to leave. Do so."

But Senator Frisman had seen his advantage. "I cannot understand any reason why you should not honor your own superiors if your rule here is as righteous as you claim. Freedom of person is the test of such a rule. It is our purpose to repatriate these men and give them their just share in this country's affairs. "

Swinburne had the holster flap securely dosed and kept it that way.

The Lieutenant steadied. "Your proposal is very plain. Unable to do business with us, you are prepared to install, by force if necessary, a government which will let you have your way here!'

"Rather crudely stated," said Frisman, "but perhaps it is near the truth.

We cannot allow a populace to be abused
¯
"

"Please don't attempt a cloak of humanitarianism," said the Lieutenant. "It becomes you very badly. You want this land. Your nation is overpopulated today as ours was many years ago. Perhaps much of your land is spoiled? You need England to ease that burden."

The Lieutenant's voice was almost monotonous, and Frisman, feeling a decided gain, lost his earlier respect for this fellow. "If you wish to so state it."

"In the event that this nation was to honor your requests, would you be prepared to give those people still alive here every benefit and liberty?"

"I should say so."

"And you would be prepared to deliver up to us this General Victor and Colonel Smythe?"

Frisman smiled and shook his head. "So that is the direction in which this leads? It is wholly impossible. Do you consider us traitors?"

"You have all the force," said the Lieutenant. "It is not for me to bargain." He sat down and, for a little while, somberly regarded his helmet. "Very well. Bring those two men here and what documents you might have concerning any treaty, and tonight we shall arrange matters."

"You definitely agree?"

"I agree to make Colonel Smythe and General Victor the supreme heads of the English government." And he forestalled Frisman by adding, "Now you may go."

Frisman, beaming, went. Just before the door was closed he looked back. The beam of light from the high window was gone now. The Lieutenant sat very still in the murky gloom of the ancient room, eyes cast down.

Swinburne was too amazed to find anything to say at first. He wandered about the room with agitated steps, pausing now and then to stare through the window at the darkening river. Finally he came back to the desk, having seen the gig depart.

"Lieutenant, I cannot understand this. To surrender without any battle to a power which will wipe out everything which was ever England
¯
"

"A power," said Carstair by the door, "which is the greatest on earth now."

"That may be," said Swinburne, "but England is England. And to give up everything for which we have worked these past years, to be swallowed up in a beehive of humanity from alien shores
¯
I can't support these things."

"The United States could wipe us out completely," said Carstair.

They'll ape their masters and throw our people into the nearest ditch!"

"As long as the ship out there is convinced that this must be done," said the Lieutenant, "it must be done. They refused to give us Victor and Smythe for execution which they justly deserve. They'll treat fairly that way, anyhow."