Sixth Column (16 page)

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Authors: Robert A. Heinlein

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good old skid-road mission principle: sing a hymn and eat a meal. But the

meal was good red meat and white bread-and the recipients had not eaten

that well in many months.

CHAPTER SEVEN

"Hello? Hello? Jeff, are you there? Can you hear me?"

"Sure I can hear. you. Don't shout, Major."

"I wish these damn rigs were regular telephones. I like to see a man I'm

talking to."

"If they were ordinary phones our Asiatic pals could listen in on us. Why

don't you ask Bob and the colonel to whip up a vision circuit? I'll bet they

could do it."

"Bob has already done so, Jeff, but Scheer is so busy machining parts

for altar installations that I don't like to ask him to make it. Do you suppose

you could recruit some assistants for Scheer? A machinist or two, maybe,

and a radio technician? The manufacturing end of this enterprise is getting

out of hand and Scheer is going to crack up from overwork. Every night I

have to go around and order him to go to bed."

Thomas thought about it. "I have one man in mind. Used to be a

watchmaker."

"A watchmaker! That's swell!"

"I don't know. He's a little bit balmy; his whole family was wiped out. A

sad case, almost as sad as Frank Mitsui. Say, how. is Frank? Is he feeling

any better?"

"Seems to be. Not down inside of course, but he seems happy enough at

his work. He's taken over the kitchen and the clerical work you used to do for

me, both."

"Give him my best."

"I will. Now about this watchmaker-you don't have to be as careful in

recruiting personnel for the Citadel as you have to be in picking field workers,

since once they are inside they can't get out."

"I know that, boss. I didn't use any special tests when I sent you Estelle

Devens. Of course I wouldn't have sent her if she hadn't been about to be

shipped out as a pleasure girl."

"You did all right. Estelle is a fine woman. She helps Frank in the kitchen,

she helps Graham sew the robes, and Bob Wilkie is training her as a

pararadio operator." Ardmore chuckled. "Sex is rearing its interesting head. I

think Bob is sweet on her."

Thomas's voice was suddenly grave. "How about that, boss? Is it likely to

louse things up?"

"I don't think so. Bob is a gentleman and Estelle is a nice girl if I ever saw

one. If biology starts getting in the way of their work, I'll just up and marry

them, in my capacity as high priest of the supercolossal god Mota."

"Bob won't go for that. He's a bit of a puritan, if you ask me."

"All right then, in my capacity as chief magistrate of this thriving little

village. Don't be stuffy. Or send me up a real preacher."

"How about sending up more women, Major? I sent Estelle on impulse,

more or less, but there are many more young women just as badly in need of

help as she was."

There was a long wait before Ardmore replied, "Captain, that is a very

difficult question. Most reluctantly I am forced to say that this is a military

organization at war, not a personal rescue mission. Unless a female is being

recruited for a military function to which she is adapted, you are not to recruit

her, even to save her from the PanAsians' pleasure cities."

"Yes, sir. I will comply. I shouldn't have sent Estelle. "

"What's done is done. She's working out all right. Don't hesitate to recruit

suitable women. This is going to be a long war and I think we can maintain

morale better with a mixed organization than with a strictly stag setup. Men

without women go to pieces; they lose purpose. But try to make the next one

an older woman, something between a mother superior and a chaperone. An

elderly trained nurse would be the type. She could be lab assistant to Brooks

and house mother to the babes, both."

"I'll see what I can find."

"And send up that watchmaker. We really need him."

"I'll give him a hypo test tonight."

"Is that necessary, Jeff? If the PanAsians killed his family you can be

sure of his sentiments."

"That's his story. I'll feel a lot safer if I hear him tell it when he's doped.

He might be a ringer you know."

"O.K., you're right, as usual. You run your show; I'll run mine. When are

you going to be able to turn the temple over to Alec, Jeff? I need you here."

"Alec could take it now, just to run it. But as I understand it, my prime

duty is to locate and recruit more `priests,' ones capable of going out in the

field and starting a new cell alone."

"That's true, but can't Alec do that? After all, the final tests will be given

here. W e agreed that never, under any circumstances, would the true nature

of what we are doing be revealed to anyone except after we got him inside

the Citadel and under our thumbs. If Alec makes a mistake in picking a man it

won't be fatal."

Jeff turned over in his mind what he wanted to say. "Look, boss, it may

seem simple from where you sit; it doesn't look simple from here. I -" He

paused.

"What's the matter, Jeff? Got the jitters?"

"I guess so."

"Why? It seems to me the operation is proceeding according to plan."

"Well, yes-maybe. Major, you said this would be a long war."

"Yes?"

"Well, it can't be. If it's a long war, we'll lose it." "But it's got to be. We

don't dare move until we have enough trusted people to strike all over the

country at once."

"Yes, yes, but that's got to be the shortest possible time. What would you

say was the greatest danger that faces us?"

"Huh? Why the chance that someone might give us away, either

accidentally or on purpose."

"I don't agree, sir-not at all. That's your opinion because you see it from

the Citadel. From here I see an entirely different danger-and it worries me all

the time."

"Well, what is it, Jeff? Give."

"The worst danger-and it hangs like a sword over our heads all the timeis that the PanAsian authorities may grow suspicious of us. They may decide

that we can't be what we pretend to be-just another phony western religion,

good to keep the slaves quiet. If they once get that idea before we are ready,

we're finished."

"Don't let it get you nervy, Jeff: In a pinch, you've got enough stuff to fight

your way back to base. They can't use an atom bomb on you in one of their

own capitals-and Calhoun says that the new shield on the Citadel will stop

even an atom bomb."

"I doubt it. But what good would it do us if it did? Suppose we could hole

up there until we died of old age: if we don't dare stick our noses out we can't

win back the country!"

"Mmm . . . no-but it might give us time to think of something else."

"Don't kid yourself, Major. If they catch on, we're licked-and the American

people lose their last chance this generation, at least. There are still too few

of us, no matter what weapons Calhoun and Wilkie can cook up."

"Suppose I concede your point: you knew all this when you went out.

Why the panic? Battle fatigue?"

"You can call it that. But I want to discuss the dangers as I see them

here in the field. If we really were a religious sect, with no military power,

they'd leave us alone till hell froze. Right?"

"Check. "

"Then the danger lies in the things we have to do to cover up the fact

that we've got a lot of stuff we aren't supposed to have. Those dangers are all

out here in the field. First-" Thomas ticked them off on his fingers, oblivious to

the fact that his commanding officer could not see him. "-is the shield of the

temple. We've got to have it; this place can't stand a search. But it would be

almost as bad if we had to use it. If any senior PanAsian gets the notion to

inspect in spite of our immunity, school is out for sure; I don't dare kill him

and I don't dare let him come in. So far, by the grace of God, a lot of

doubletalk, and the liberal use of bribes, I've been able to turn them away."

"They already know that we've got the temple shields, Jeff; they've

known it from the first day we made contact here."

"Do they, now? I don't think so. Thinking back over my interview with the

Hand I'm convinced that that officer who tried to force his way into the mother

temple wasn't believed when he made his report. And you can bet your last

cookie he is dead now; that's the way they work. The common soldiers that

were there don't count. The second hazard is the personal shield that we

`priests' carry. I've used mine just once and I'm sorry I did. Fortunately he

was just a common soldier, too. He wouldn't report it; he wouldn't be believed

and he would lose face."

"But, Jeff, the `priests' have got to wear shields; we can't let a staff fall

into enemy hands-not to mention the fact that the monkeys might be able to

drug an unshielded `priest' before he could suicide."

"You're telling me! We've got to have them; we don't dare use them-and

that calls for some fast double -talk in a pinch. The next hazard is the halo;

the halo was a mistake, boss."

"Why do you say that?"

"O. K., it impresses the superstitious. But the bigshot PanAsians are no

more superstitious than you are. Take the Hand-I wore it in his presence. He

wasn't impressed; it was my great good luck that he apparently regarded it as

nothing important, just a gadget to impress my followers. But suppose he had

really thought about it and decided to find out how I did it?"

"Maybe," said Ardmore, "we had better omit the halo effect in the next

city we penetrate."

"Too late. Our official designation here is `holy men who wear halos.' It's

our trademark."

"So? Jeff, I think you've done a wonderfully good job of covering up."

"There is one more hazard. It's a slow one, a time bomb."

"Eh?"

"Money. We've got too much money. That's a suspicious circumstance."

"But you had to have money to operate."

"How well I know it. It has been the only thing that enabled us to get

away with it so far. These people are even more corruptible than Americans,

Chief; with us it is a frowned-upon dereliction; with them it's an essential part

of their culture. A good thing, too-we now have the respected position of the

goose that lays the golden eggs."

"But why do you call it a time bomb? Why is it a hazard at all?"

"Remember what happened to the goose in the story? Some day some

smart laddie is going to wonder where the goose gets all that gold and take

him apart to find out. In the meantime all the recipients of our cumshaw are

closing their eyes to the suspicious circumstances and getting as much as

they can while the getting is good. I'm betting that each one will keep his

mouth shut about his take, as long as he can get away with it. I doubt if the

Hand knows that we seem to have an unlimited supply of American gold

coins. But some day he will find out; that's the time bomb element. Unless he

can be bribed, too-in a polite way, of course-he will start some very

embarrassing investigations. Somewhere up the line we'll run into an official

more interested in knowing the facts than in sticking out his palm. Before that

day rolls around we had better be set to move!"

"Hmm . . . I suppose so. Well, Jeff, do the best you can and get us some

`priest' recruits up here as fast as you can. If we had one hundred

dependable men, as talented in handling people as you are, we could set `D'

Day a month from now. But it may take years and, as you say, events may

trip us up before we can move."

"You can see why I have trouble finding `priest' recruits? Loyalty isn't

enough; a special aptitude for kidding the public is necessary. I learned it as

a hobo. Alec really hasn't got it; he's too honest. However I may have one

recruit now-a chap named Johnson."

"Yes? What about him?"

"He used to be a real estate salesman and he has a very convincing

manner. The PanAsians put him out of business, of course, and he's anxious

to avoid the labor camps. I've been feeling him out."

"Well, if you think he'll do, send him up. Perhaps I can look him over

there."

"Huh?

"I've been thinking while I listened. Jeff, I don't know enough about the

field situation; I've got to come see for myself. If I am going to direct this

show, I've got to understand it. I can't do it from a hole in the ground; I'm

falling out of touch."

"I thought that was settled a long time ago, boss."

"What do you mean?"

"Are you going to leave Calhoun as acting C. O. ?"

Ardmore remained silent for several moments, then said, "Damn you, jet"

"Well, are you?"

"Oh, very well! Let's drop the matter!"

"Don't get sore, boss. I've been trying to give you the whole picture;

that's why I've talked so long. "

"I'm glad you did. I want you to repeat it, in much more detail. I'll put

Estelle on and have her make a recording of everything you've got to say.

We'll work up an instruction manual for student `priests' from your lecture."

"O. K., but let me call you back. I've got a service in ten minutes."

"Can't Alec even run a service?" `

"He does and he's O. K. He preaches a better sermon than I do. But it's

my best recruiting time, Major; I study the crowd and talk to them individually

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