Hubbard, L. Ron (20 page)

"Fairly! They're afraid to leave you here!" snapped Swinburne. And then he considered what he had just said and came back to the desk. "The first duty of any officer is to his command, Lieutenant'. This nation is just as much your command as your brigade ever was. I've never heard it said that you neglected that brigade. And yet you can conceive of allowing us to fall into the hands of two renegade tools of a powerful and voracious
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"You talk like that Frisman," said the Lieutenant tiredly. He sat a little straighter then. "I've never neglected my command. To do other than grant the wishes of these people would be to wipe out England completely. They ask only for an incident to take us over for a colony. Can't you see that?

Only if our government here behaves perfectly can we stave off becoming part of another nation. So long as we can prove ourselves to be acting in the best interests of everyone, there will be no excuse whatever for them to assimilate us. We must see that this government acts in good faith, that it is fairly conducted for all, that no incident will occur which will permit them to establish martial rule here.

The plane had props, no wings, goes straight up at four hundred, straight ahead at six hundred and fifty.

"Sir, you ought to see her armament. She hasn't a gun aboard! Every projectile is its own gun like those rocket shells we saw about ten years ago at the front, only these really work. They're like rocket planes and they go up out of chutes and they fire at any range up to a thousand miles.

Got away from gun barrels and danger of explosion and all that. They claim one of those shells could wipe out any ship and a half a dozen any city.

"Sir, she steers herself and runs herself and submerges if necessary, and by Heaven the only thing she won't do is fly. And they claim nothing except her own armament can make a dent in her!

"I came right up. If she was to cut loose on us there wouldn't be a damned thing left, sir. Not a damn thing!"

"Thank you," said the Lieutenant, dully.

Thorbridge withdrew with the feeling that something was very wrong with the Lieutenant. He would have been convinced could he have seen what happened after The Lieutenant slumped more deeply into the great chair. "You see, gentlemen?"

Swinburne paced about. "But, confound it, there might be some way of making concessions without putting Victor and Smythe at the head of everything!

Man, don't you know what they'll do? They'll revive all the creeds and claptrap that we once had.

"Better to be wiped out in a blood bath than to quit like cowards," growled Swinburne. "They came here to put Victor at the head of the government so that he would do their bidding. Victor! He sold out a dictator that placed all his trust in him.

He was too slippery a turncoat to be kept even by Hogarthy! He bungled everything he ever did in France and cost Heaven knows how many millions of lives! And, having betrayed his army to set up his own regime, he now goes whining to the United States in the guise of a monarchist! And you," he cried, suddenly angry and facing the Lieutenant, "are agreeable to putting him in your place!"

Mawkey slipped in, his quick eyes not missing anything that went on. "Sir, Captain Thorbridge from Sheerness is here."

The Lieutenant motioned that he be admitted.

Thorbridge was a tall youth who spoke habitually in a staccato voice. He took his duties of ship inspector at Sheerness very seriously.

"Sir, I've ridden hell out of a horse. Inspected the U.S.S. New York. They didn't seem to care what I saw. I came up here as quick as I could. Gad, what a ship!

"Sir, she's nearly six hundred feet long. She's got engines they claim drive her at eighty knots. She's like a torpedo and nothing's exposed on her at all. There's a couple hatches they let planes out of and by Heaven, sir, those planes can land right back. The Hay's Heliplane, they're called.

"Please," he said, slumping back, "please remember what I have said."

Swinburne was plainly disgusted. "A thief comes up and sticks a gun in your ribs and so, rather than risk getting hurt, you tamely say: 'Yes, here is my wallet. And my wives and goods at home are at your complete disposal?

You call that statesmanship!"

"He can do nothing else," said Carstair.

"Bah!" said Swinburne. "These years of peace have turned him into putty!"

And he stalked from the room, slamming the door behind him.

"Carstair," said the Lieutenant, "he is going out to call a council of officers. Please make sure that you give them my orders. I am to have this evening. They will have all the tomorrows. Tell them that upon the return of the people, they must come in here and stand as witness to what takes place and to pledge their faith to Victor and Smythe so long as they may rule."

"But they won't!" cried Carstair. "We are field officers!"

"Nevertheless, ask them to have faith and do what I say. It is for the best. Have I ever given a foolish order before, good friend?"

Carstair hesitated and his memory shot back over the past to the time he had first seen this man at G.H.Q. "No. No, you have never given a foolish order."

"Then tell them to save their revolts for the morrow and to let me have tonight. They must come in and agree
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that is necessary, Carstair."

"They'll accuse you of cowardice."

"Let them."

"Can't you see that the first official act of Victor will be the ordering of your execution?" begged Carstair. "As soon as those Americans have left, Victor will rake up followers from the rabble and Heaven knows what things will happen. And we won't be able to touch him. They'll leave a large guard with him, that's a certainty. Did you see the arms of those marines? Why, that twenty, with those small automatic weapons and those bulletproof jackets and their pocket radios
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"I care nothing about these things; I am only thinking of my command
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for when the command is destroyed the officer also dies. But, one way or another, an officer lives so long as his command lives. Go now, Carstair, and tell them what I say."

There was something in the Lieutenant's tone which made Carstair fear for him; but the Australian said no more. Quietly he closed the door behind him.

Sometime later Mawkey slipped in, looking smaller and more twisted than usual and his eyes dull. He carried a tray for an excuse and stood by while the Lieutenant minced at the food.

"Sir," ventured Mawkey, "is it true that you are going to let General Victor become the ruler here?"

The Lieutenant nodded wearily.

"If you say so, sir, then it's so. But me and Bulger and Pollard and Weasel and Carstone have been talking. We got it figured out that the way you made a rabbit out of that Victor, the first thing he'll do will be to kill you. Now, if we was to shoot this Victor and this Smythe soon as they got inside the Tower
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"Those marines would murder the lot of you."

"Yessir. But that's better than letting Victor execute the Lieutenant."

"Haven't you seen the guns those marines carry'"

"Sure. They could tear a man in half and nothing we've got could stop those slugs. But we ain't afraid of no marines, sir. It's the man, that's what counts."

"Mawkey, you'll do as I tell you. As soon as we get the proper documents signed in here, every one of my soldiers and officers is to leave Tower Hill."

"What's that, sir?"

"And stay away."

"And you, sir?"

"I'll stay here."

Mawkey was troubled, but he knew no other way to counter this. It was plain to him that the Lieutenant had suddenly developed a suicidal mania like so many other officers had in the face of defeat.

"Remember my orders," said the Lieutenant when Mawkey had picked up the tray.

"Yessir," said Mawkey, but with difficulty for there was something wrong with his throat and his eyes smarted.

Promptly at eight, the gig slowed to a stop at the Queen's Steps and made fast her lines. The party was as before with the addition of two more members. And the Tower was as before with the exception that its guards glared with sullen mien upon the intruders.

The files of marines felt the heaviness of the atmosphere and tried to put their boots down quietly upon the pave to still the echoes of the ancient, gray battlements. They were experienced soldiers, those marines, with the high-tuned senses of the fighting man, for they had served with Clayton in Mexico, taking all the shock work so the army could grab the glory. They had wiped out the last fortress in the Yellow Sea; they had chased down the last mad dictator in Central America. In ten years of service they had set the Stars and Stripes to float above all the Western Hemisphere and half of Asia. And they knew the feel of hostility held off with effort. But, aside from their soldier-sailor selves and their professional duties, they were not at ease about this thing, for they saw the antiquated rifles and field guns in the ranks of the guard and it jibed strangely with these faces so like their own. It was as if some of themselves had suddenly been transplanted to an enemy and they had never fought their own race before.

But if the marines were still and if their young officer was alert as a cat, none of this reached Frisman and his companions. Captain Johnson had seen fit to stay aboard, for he had no stomach for this, and Frisman was relieved about it, never having liked anything which smacked of military etiquette and stiffness.

Colonel Smythe and Frisman kept up a brisk stream of self-congratulatory conversation. They were much of a kind, though the senator looked like a lion beside this jackal. General Victor's large, lolling head was bobbing erectly as he tried to make himself look as much like a conqueror as possible. Even Breckwell discovered self-importance and managed to get some of it into his usually empty face.

They were passed through the gates and the Inner Ward and into the Norman keep. As they mounted the steps they began to get themselves in order, the marines looking closely to the fighting characteristics of the place and Frisman clearing his throat and thinking up some resounding trite phrases.

About thirty men of the old Fourth Brigade were drawn about the entrance to the great hall, and among them were Bulger, Pollard, Weasel, Toutou, old Chipper, Gian and Mawkey, a rather large number of high-ranking noncoms for so small a group. They stood as though they were permanent fixtures of the grim, old place.

Carstair stood at the door and watched them arrive without giving any sign that he saw them at all. But when they were all there he turned and stepped in.

"They have arrived, sir."

"Let them come in."

Frisman pushed forward. He had little eye for detail, but even to him things had changed. The room was somberly lit by two candelabra and a girandole, but the candles did no more than intensify the darkness of the lofty ceiling and the shadows on the walls.

The lieutenant sat at his desk, robed in his battle cloak, helmet before him. All the contents of the files were tied into bundles on the floor and what few possessions he had were laid out beside them.

Along the wall was a stony frieze of officers who gave Frisman a glance and then bent a harsh regard upon Victor and Smythe.

Victor lost a little of his certainty. His wabbly head bobbed as he scanned the line. He recognized them one by one. Field officers that he had failed to trick into turning back their commands and some that he had. Victor gave a glance to the marines outside and was instantly reassured.

"Good evening, sir," said Frisman. "And gentlemen," to the officers. "I trust that we are all of the same mind that we were this afternoon?"

The Lieutenant fingered a document before him. "I am. Shall we get through this thing as quickly as possible?"

"Certainly," said Frisman. "Here are my credentials and such, giving me power to act freely in this matter. No restraints were placed upon me by my government, as you will see."

The Lieutenant barely glanced at them. He gave Frisman a cold stare. "I have prepared the terms. To avoid any friction or complication, I have drawn up a governmental procedure. I shall withdraw completely."

Victor almost smiled.

"But," said the Lieutenant, "I have a condition to make. That you will keep my plan in operation."

"And this plan?" said Frisman.

"General Victor shall be in full and unopposed command of the country and all its defenses. In case anything happens to him, he is to be succeeded by Colonel Smythe, who will again have dictatorial powers. In case anything should happen to Smythe, the country is to be governed by its officers corps, who will recognize Swinburne as their chairman. Is this agreeable?"

"Certainly," said Frisman, not having hoped for so much.

"Further," said the Lieutenant, "I have limited immigration of Americans to England to a hundred thousand a month. These immigrants are to purchase their land from the present owners at the fair price, which shall, in no case, be less than fifteen pounds an acre at the exchange of five dollars to a pound "That is rather steep," said Frisman.

"For English land? Indeed, it is rather cheap," said the Lieutenant. "Do you agree?"