1 files changed, 6131 insertions, 0 deletions

diff --git a/30639.txt b/30639.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..4e8e55d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/30639.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,6131 @@
+Project Gutenberg's Border, Breed Nor Birth, by Dallas McCord Reynolds
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Border, Breed Nor Birth
+
+Author: Dallas McCord Reynolds
+
+Illustrator: Schoenherr
+
+Release Date: December 9, 2009 [EBook #30639]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BORDER, BREED NOR BIRTH ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Sankar Viswanathan, Greg Weeks, and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+                         Transcriber's Note:
+
+  This etext was produced from Analog Science Fact & Fiction July 1962.
+  Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S.
+  copyright on this publication was renewed.
+
+
+
+                       Border, Breed nor Birth
+
+
+
+     Part 1 of Two. Kipling said those things didn't count when
+     two strong men stood face to face. But ... do they count
+     when two strong ideologies stand face to face...?
+
+
+
+                           by Mack Reynolds
+
+
+                      Illustrated by Schoenherr
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+
+I
+
+
+El Hassan, would-be tyrant of all North Africa, was on the run.
+
+His followers at this point numbered six, one of whom was a wisp of a
+twenty-four year old girl. Arrayed against him and his dream, he knew,
+was the combined power of the world in the form of the Reunited
+Nations, and, in addition, such individual powers as the United States
+of the Americas, the Soviet Complex, Common Europe, the French
+Community, the British Commonwealth and the Arab Union, working both
+together and unilaterally.
+
+Immediate survival depended upon getting into the Great Erg of the
+Sahara where even the greatest powers the world had ever developed
+would have their work cut out locating El Hassan and his people.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Bey-ag-Akhamouk who was riding next to Elmer Allen in the lead air
+cushion hover-lorry, held a hand high. Both of the solar powered
+desert vehicles ground to a halt.
+
+Homer Crawford vaulted out of the seat of the second lorry before it
+had settled to the sand. "What's up, Bey?" he called.
+
+Bey pointed to the south and west. They were in the vicinity of
+Tessalit, in what was once known as French Sudan, and immediately to
+the south of Algeria. They were deliberately avoiding what little
+existed in this area in the way of trails, the Tanezrouft route which
+crossed the Sahara from Colomb-Bechar to Gao, on the Niger, was some
+fifty miles to the west.
+
+Homer Crawford stared up into the sky in the direction Bey pointed and
+his face went wan.
+
+The others were piling out of the vehicles.
+
+"What is it?" Isobel Cunningham said, squinting and trying to catch
+what the others had already spotted.
+
+"Aircraft," Bey growled. "A rocket-plane."
+
+"Which means the military in this part of the world," Homer said.
+
+The rest of them looked to him for instructions, but Bey suddenly took
+over. He said to Homer, "You better get on over beneath that
+outcropping of rock. The rest of us will handle this."
+
+Homer looked at him.
+
+Bey said, flatly, "If one of the rest of us gets it, or even if all of
+us do, the El Hassan movement goes on. But if something happens to
+you, the movement dies. We've already taken our stand and too much is
+at stake to risk your life."
+
+Homer Crawford opened his mouth to protest, then closed it. He reached
+inside the solar-powered lorry and fetched forth a Tommy-Noiseless and
+started for the rock outcropping at a trot. Having made his decision,
+he wasn't going to cramp Bey-ag-Akhamouk's style with needless
+palaver.
+
+Isobel Cunningham, Cliff Jackson, Elmer Allen and Kenny Ballalou
+gathered around the tall, American educated Tuareg.
+
+"What's the plan?" Elmer said. Either he or Kenny Ballalou could have
+taken over as competently, but they were as capable of taking orders
+as giving them, a desirable trait in fighting men.
+
+Bey was still staring at the oncoming speck. He growled, "We can't
+even hope he hasn't seen the pillars of sand and dust these vehicles
+throw up. He's spotted us all right. And we've got to figure he's
+looking for us, even though we can hope he's not."
+
+The side of his mouth began to tic, characteristically. "He'll make
+three passes. The first one high, as an initial check. The second time
+he'll come in low just to make sure. The third pass and he'll clobber
+us."
+
+The aircraft was coming on, high but nearer now.
+
+"So," Elmer said reasonably, "we either get him the second pass he
+makes, or we've had it." The young Jamaican's lips were thinned back
+over his excellent teeth, as always when he went into combat.
+
+"That's it," Bey agreed. "Kenny, you and Cliff get the flac rifle, and
+have it handy in the back of the second truck. Be sure he doesn't see
+it on this first pass. Elmer, get on the radio and check anything he
+sends."
+
+Kenny Ballalou and the hulking Cliff Jackson ran to carry out orders.
+
+Isobel said, "Got an extra gun for me?"
+
+Bey scowled at her. "You better get over there with Homer where it's
+safer."
+
+She said evenly, "I've always considered myself a pacifist, but when
+somebody starts shooting at me, I forget about it and am inclined to
+shoot back."
+
+"I haven't got time to argue with you," Bey said. "There aren't any
+extra guns except handguns and they'd be useless." As he spoke, he
+pulled his own Tommy-Noiseless from its scabbard on the front door of
+the air cushion lorry, and checked its clip of two hundred .10 caliber
+ultra-high velocity rounds. He flicked the selector to the explosive
+side of the clip.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The plane was roaring in on what would be its first pass, if Bey had
+guessed correctly. If he had guessed incorrectly, this might be the
+end. A charge of napalm would fry everything for a quarter of a mile
+around, or the craft might even be equipped with a mini-fission bomb.
+In this area a minor nuclear explosion would probably go undetected.
+
+Bey yelled, "Don't anybody even try to fire at him at this range.
+He'll be back. It takes half the sky to turn around in with that
+crate, but he'll be back, lower next time."
+
+Cliff Jackson said cheerlessly, "Maybe he's just looking for us. He
+won't necessarily take a crack at us."
+
+Bey grunted. "Elmer?"
+
+"Nothing on the radio," Elmer said. "If he was just scouting us out,
+he'd report to his base. But if his orders are to clobber us, then he
+wouldn't put it on the air."
+
+The plane was turning in the sky, coming back.
+
+Cliff argued, "Well, we can't fire unless we know if he's just hunting
+us out, or trying to do us in."
+
+Elmer said patiently, "For just finding us, that first pass would be
+all he needed. He could radio back that he'd found us. But if he comes
+in again, he's looking for trouble."
+
+"Here he comes!" Bey yelled. "Kenny-Cliff ... the rifle!"
+
+Isobel suddenly dashed out into the sands a dozen yards or so from the
+vehicles and began running around and around in a circle as though
+demented.
+
+Bey stared at her. "Get back here," he roared. "Under one of the
+trucks!"
+
+She ignored him.
+
+The rocket-plane was coming in, low and obviously as slow as the pilot
+could retard its speed.
+
+The flac rifle began jumping and tracers reached out from
+it--inaccurately. The Tommy-Noiseless automatics in the hands of Bey
+and Elmer Allen gave their silenced _flic flic flic_ sounds, equally
+ineffective.
+
+On the ultra-stubby wings of the fast moving aircraft, a row of
+brilliant cherries flickered and a row of explosive shells plowed
+across the desert, digging twin ditches, miraculously going between
+the air cushion lorries but missing both. It was upon them, over and
+gone, before the men on the ground could turn to fire after.
+
+Elmer Allen muttered an obscenity under his breath.
+
+Cliff Jackson looked around in desperation. "What can we do now? He
+won't come close enough for us to even fire at him, next time."
+
+Bey said nothing. Isobel had collapsed into the sand. Elmer Allen
+looked over at her. "Nice try, Isobel," he said. "I think he came in
+lower and slower than he would have otherwise--trying to see what the
+devil it was you were doing."
+
+She shrugged, hopelessly.
+
+"Hey!" Kenny Ballalou pointed.
+
+The rocketcraft was wobbling, shuddering, in the sky. Suddenly it
+burst into a black cloud of fire and smoke and explosion.
+
+At the same moment, Homer Crawford got up from the sand dune behind
+which he'd stationed himself and plowed awkwardly through the sand
+toward them.
+
+Bey glared at him.
+
+Homer shrugged and said, "I checked the way he came in the first time
+and figured he'd repeat the run. Then I got behind that dune there and
+faced in the other direction and started firing where I _thought_ he'd
+be, a few seconds before he came over. He evidently ran right into
+it."
+
+Bey said indignantly, "Look, wise guy, you're no longer the leader of
+a five-man Reunited Nations African Development Project team. Then,
+you were expendable. Now, you're El Hassan. You give the orders. Other
+people are expendable."
+
+Homer Crawford grinned at him, somewhat ruefully and held up his hands
+as though in supplication. "Listen to the man, is that any way to talk
+to El Hassan?"
+
+Elmer Allen said worriedly, "He's right, though, Homer. You shouldn't
+take chances."
+
+Homer Crawford went serious. "Actually, none of us should, if we can
+avoid it. In a way, El Hassan isn't one person. It's this team here,
+and Jake Armstrong, who by this time I hope is on his way to the
+States."
+
+Bey was shaking his head in stubborn determination. "No," he said.
+"I'm not sure that you comprehend this yourself, Homer, but you're
+Number One. You're the symbol, the hero these people are going to
+follow if we put this thing over. They couldn't understand a sextet
+leadership. They want a leader, someone to dominate and tell them what
+to do. A team you need, admittedly, but not so much as the team needs
+you. Remember Alexander? He had a team starting off with Aristotle for
+a brain-trust, and Parmenion, one of the greatest generals of all time
+for his right-hand man. Then he had a group of field men such as
+Ptolemy, Antipater, Antigonus and Seleucus--not to be rivaled until
+Napoleon built his team, two thousand years later. And what happened
+to this super-team when Alexander died?"
+
+Homer looked at him thoughtfully.
+
+Bey wound it up doggedly. "You're our Alexander. Our Caesar. Our
+Napoleon. So don't go getting yourself killed, damn it. Excuse me,
+Isobel."
+
+Isobel grinned her pixielike grin. "I agree," she said. "Dammit."
+
+Homer said, "I'm not sure I go all along with you or not. We'll think
+about it." His voice took a sharper note. "Let's go over and see if
+there's enough left in that wreckage to give us an idea of who the
+pilot represented. I can't believe it was a Reunited Nations man, and
+I'd like to know who, of our potential enemies, dislikes the idea of
+El Hassan so much that they figure we should all be bumped off before
+we even get under way."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+It had begun--if there is ever a beginning--in Dakar. In the offices
+of Sven Zetterberg the Swedish head of the Sahara Division of the
+African Development Project of the Reunited Nations.
+
+Homer Crawford, head of a five-man trouble-shooting team, had reported
+for orders. In one hand he held them, when he was ushered into the
+other's presence.
+
+Zetterberg shook hands abruptly, said, "Sit down, Dr. Crawford."
+
+Homer Crawford looked at the secretary who had ushered him in.
+
+Zetterberg said, scowling, "What's the matter?"
+
+"I think I have something to be discussed privately."
+
+The secretary shrugged and turned and left.
+
+Zetterberg, still scowling, resumed his own place behind the desk and
+said, "Claud Hansen is a trusted Reunited Nations man. What could
+possibly be so secret...?"
+
+Homer indicated the orders he held. "This assignment. It takes some
+consideration."
+
+Sven Zetterberg was not a patient man. He said, in irritation, "It
+should be perfectly clear. This El Hassan we've been hearing so much
+about. This mystery man come out of the desert attempting to unify
+all North America. We want to talk to him."
+
+"Why?" Crawford said.
+
+"Confound it," Zetterberg snapped. "I thought we'd gone into this
+yesterday. In spite of the complaints that come into this office in
+regard to your cavalier tactics in carrying out your assignments, you
+and your team are our most competent operatives. So we've given you
+the assignment of finding El Hassan."
+
+"I mean, why do you want to talk to him?"
+
+The Swede glared at him for a moment, as though the American was being
+deliberately dense. "Dr. Crawford," he said, "when the African
+Development Project was first begun we had high hopes. Seemingly all
+Reunited Nations members were being motivated by high humanitarian
+reasons. Our task was to bring all Africa to a level of progress
+comparable to the advanced nations. It was more than a duty, it was a
+crying need, a demand. Africa is and has been throughout history a
+_have-not_ continent. While Europe, the Americas, Australia and now
+even Asia, industrialized and largely conquered man's old
+socio-economic problems, Africa lagged behind. The reasons were
+manifold, colonialism, lingering tribal society ... various others.
+Now that very lagging has become a potential explosive situation. With
+the coming of antibiotics and other break-throughs in medicine, the
+African population is growing with an all but geometric progression.
+So fast is it growing, that what advances were being made did less
+than keep up the level of per capita gross product. It was bad enough
+to have a per capita gross product averaging less than a hundred
+dollars a year, but it actually sank below that point."
+
+Homer Crawford was nodding.
+
+Zetterberg continued the basic lecture with which he knew the other
+was already completely familiar. "So the Reunited Nations took on the
+task of advancing as rapidly as possible the African economy and all
+the things that must be done before an economy _can_ be advanced. It
+was self-preservation, I suppose. _Have-not_ nations, not to speak of
+_have-not_ races and _have-not_ continents, have a tendency eventually
+to explode upon their wealthier neighbors."
+
+The Swede pressed his lips together before continuing. "Unfortunately,
+the Reunited Nations as the United Nations and the League of Nations
+before it, is composed of members each with its own irons in the fire.
+Each with its own plans and schemes." His voice was bitter now. "The
+Arab Union with its desire to unite all Islam into one. The Soviet
+Complex with its ultimate dream of a soviet world. The capitalistic
+economies of the British Commonwealth, Common Europe, and your United
+States of the Americas, with their hunger for, positive need for,
+sources of raw materials and markets for their manufactured products.
+All, though playing lip service to the African Development Project,
+have still their own ambitions."
+
+Sven Zetterberg waggled a finger at Homer Crawford. "I do not charge
+that your United States is attempting to take over Africa, or even any
+section of it, in the old colonialistic sense. Even England and France
+have discovered that it is much simpler to dominate economically than
+to go through all the expense and effort of governing another people.
+That is the basic reason they gave up their empires. No, your United
+States would love to so dominate Africa that her products, her
+entrepreneurs, would flood the continent to the virtual exclusion of
+such economic competitors as Common Europe. The Commonwealth feels the
+same, so does the French Community. The Soviets and Arabs have
+different motivations, but they, too, wish to take over. The
+result...." The Swede tossed up his hands in a gesture more Gallic
+than Scandinavian.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"What has all this got to do with El Hassan?" Homer Crawford asked
+softly.
+
+The Swede leaned forward. "If we more devoted adherents of the
+Reunited Nations are ever to see our hopes come true, Africa must be
+united and made strong. And this must be done through the efforts of
+_Africans_ not Russians, British, French, Arabs ... nor even
+Scandinavians. Socio-economic changes should not, possibly cannot, be
+inflicted upon a people from without. Look at the mess the Russians
+made in such countries as Hungary, or the Americans in such as South
+Korea."
+
+"The people themselves must have the dream," Crawford said softly.
+
+"I beg your pardon?"
+
+"Nothing. Go on."
+
+Zetterberg said, "On the surface, great progress seems to be
+continuing. Afforestation of the Sahara, the solar pumps creating new
+oases, the water purification plants on the Atlantic and
+Mediterranean, pushing back the desert, the oil fields, the mines, the
+roads, the damming of the Niger. But already cracks can be seen. A
+week or so ago, a team of Cubans, supposedly, at least, in the Sudan
+to improve sugar refining methods, were machine-gunned to death. By
+whom? By the Sudanese? Unlikely. No, this Cuban massacre was one of
+many recent signs of conflict between the great powers in their
+efforts to dominate. Our problem, of course, deals only with North
+Africa, but I have heard rumors in Geneva that much the same situation
+is developing in the south as well."
+
+"At any rate, Dr. Crawford, when the rumors of El Hassan began to come
+into this office they brought with them a breath of hope. From all we
+have heard, he teaches our basic program--a breaking down of old
+tribal society, education, economic progress, Pan-African unity. Dr.
+Crawford, no one with whom this office is connected seems ever to have
+seen this El Hassan but we are most anxious to talk to him. Perhaps
+this is the man behind whom we can throw our support. Your task is to
+find him."
+
+Homer Crawford raked the fingers of his right hand back over his
+short wiry hair, and grimaced. He said, "It won't be necessary."
+
+[Illustration]
+
+"I beg your pardon, Doctor?"
+
+Crawford said, "It won't be necessary to go looking for El Hassan."
+
+The Swede scowled his irritation at the other. "See here...."
+
+Crawford said, "I'm El Hassan."
+
+Sven Zetterberg stared at him, uncomprehending.
+
+Homer Crawford said, "I suppose it's your turn to listen and for me
+to do the talking." He shifted in his chair, uncomfortably. "Dr.
+Zetterberg, even before the Reunited Nations evolved the idea of the
+African Development Project, it became obvious that the field work was
+going to have to be in the hands of Negroes. The reason is doublefold.
+First, the African doesn't trust the white man, for good reason.
+Second, the white man is a citizen of his own country, first of all,
+and finds it difficult not to have motives connected with his own race
+and nation. But the African Negro, too, has his tribal and sometimes
+national affiliations and cannot be trusted not to be prejudiced in
+their favor. The answer? The educated American Negro, such as myself."
+
+"I haven't the slightest idea from whence came my ancestors, from what
+part of Africa, what tribe, what nation. But I am a Negro and ...
+well, have the dream of bettering my race. I have no irons in the
+fire, beyond altruistic ones. Of course, when I say American Negroes I
+don't exclude Canadian ones, or those of Latin America or the
+Caribbean. It is simply that there are greater numbers of educated
+American Negroes than you find elsewhere."
+
+Zetterberg said impatiently, "Please, Dr. Crawford. Come to the point.
+That ridiculous statement you made about El Hassan."
+
+"Of course, I am merely giving background. Most of we field workers,
+not only the African Development teams, but such organizations as the
+Africa for Africans Association and the representatives of the African
+Department of the British Commonwealth, and of the French Community's
+African Affairs sector, are composed of Negroes."
+
+Zetterberg was nodding. "All right, I know."
+
+Homer Crawford said, "The teams of all these organizations do their
+best to spur African progress, in our case, in North Africa,
+especially the area between the Niger and the Mediterranean. Often we
+disguise ourselves as natives since in that manner we are more quickly
+trusted. We wear the clothes, speak the local language or lingua
+franca."
+
+The American hesitated a moment, then plunged in. "Dr. Zetterberg, the
+African is still a primitive but newly beginning to move out of a
+tradition-ritual-taboo tribal society. He seeks a hero to follow, a
+man of towering prestige who knows the answers to all questions. We
+may not _like_ this fact, we with our traditions of democracy, but it
+is so. The African is simply not yet at that stage of society where
+political democracy is applicable."
+
+"My team does most of its work posing as Enaden--low caste itinerant
+smiths of the Sahara. As such we can go any place and are everywhere
+accepted, a necessary sector of the Saharan economy. As such, we
+continually spread the ... ah, propaganda of the Reunited Nations--the
+need for education, the need for taking jobs on the new projects, the
+need for casting aside old institutions and embracing the new. Early
+in the game we found our words had little weight coming from simple
+Enaden smiths so we ... well, _invented_ this mysterious El Hassan,
+and everything we said we attributed to him."
+
+"News spreads fast in the desert, astonishingly fast. El Hassan
+started with us but soon other teams, hearing about him and realizing
+that his message was the same as that they were trying to propagate,
+did the same thing. That is, attributed the messages they had to
+spread to El Hassan. It was amusing when a group of us got together
+last week in Timbuktu, to find that we'd all taken to kowtowing to
+this mythical desert hero who planned to unite all North Africa."
+
+The Swede was staring at him unbelievingly. "But, a bit earlier you
+said you were El Hassan."
+
+Homer Crawford looked into his chief's face and nodded seriously.
+"I've been conferring with various other field workers, both Reunited
+Nations and otherwise. The situation calls for a real El Hassan. If we
+don't provide him, someone else will. I propose to take over the
+position."
+
+Sven Zetterberg's face was suddenly cold. "And why, Dr. Crawford, do
+you think you are more qualified than others?"
+
+The American Negro could hardly fail to note the other's disapproval.
+He said evenly, but definitely, "Through experience. Through
+education. Through ... through having the dream, Dr. Zetterberg."
+
+"The Reunited Nations cannot support such a project, Dr. Crawford. I
+absolutely forbid you to consider it."
+
+"Forbid me?"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+It was as though a strange something entered the atmosphere of the
+room, almost as though a new _presence_ was there. And almost, it
+seemed to Sven Zetterberg, that the already tall, solidly built man
+across from him grew physically as his voice seemed to swell, to reach
+out, to dominate. There was a new, and all but unbelievable Homer
+Crawford here.
+
+The Swedish official regathered his forces. This was ridiculous. He
+said again, "I forbid you to...." the sentence dribbled away under the
+cold disdain in the air now.
+
+Homer Crawford said flatly, "You don't seem to understand, Zetterberg.
+The Reunited Nations has no control over El Hassan. Homer Crawford, as
+of this meeting, has resigned his post with the African Development
+Project. And El Hassan has begun his task of uniting all North
+Africa."
+
+Sven Zetterberg, shaken by this new and unsuspected force the other
+seemed to be able to bring to his command, fought back. "It will be
+simple to discredit you, to let it be known that you are no more than
+an ambitious American out to seize power illegally."
+
+Crawford's scorn held an element of amusement. "Try it. I suspect your
+attempts to discredit El Hassan will prove unsuccessful. He has
+already been rumored to be everything from an Ethiopian to the Second
+Coming of the Messiah. Your attempt to brand him an American
+adventurer will be swallowed up in the flood of other rumor."
+
+The Swede was still shaken by the strange manner in which his once
+subordinate had suddenly dominated him. Sven Zetterberg was not a man
+to be dominated, to be made unsure.
+
+Time folded back on itself and for a moment he was again a lad and on
+vacation with his father in Bavaria. They were having lunch in the
+famed Hofbrauehaus, largest of the Munich beercellars, and even a
+ten-year-old could sense an anticipation in the air, particularly
+among the large number of brownshirted men who had gathered to one
+side of the ground level of the beer hall. His father was telling Sven
+of the history of the medieval building when a silence fell. Into the
+beer hall had come a pasty faced, trenchcoat garbed little man, his
+face set in stern lines but insufficiently to offset the ludicrous
+mustache. He was accompanied by an elderly soldier in the uniform of a
+Field Marshal, by a large tub of a man whose face beamed--but
+evilly--and by a pinch faced cripple. All were men of command, all
+except the pasty faced one, to whom they seemingly and surprisingly,
+deferred. And then he stood on a heavy chair and spoke. And then his
+_power_ reached out and grasped all within reach of his shrill voice.
+Grasped them and compelled them and they became a shouting, red faced,
+arm brandishing mob, demanding to be led to glory. And Sven's father
+had bustled the shocked boy from the building.
+
+It came back to him now, clearly and forcefully, and he realized that
+whatever it was with which the Beast of Berchtesgaden had enchanted
+his people, that power was on call in Homer Crawford. Whether he used
+it for good or evil, that enchanting power was on call. And again Sven
+Zetterberg was shaken.
+
+Homer Crawford was on his feet, preparatory to leaving.
+
+The Swede simply _had_ to reassert himself. "Dr. Crawford, the
+Reunited Nations is not without resources. You'll be arrested before
+you leave Dakar."
+
+An element of the tenseness left the air when Crawford smiled and
+said, "Doctor, for several years now I have been playing hide and seek
+in the Sahara, doing your work. You mentioned earlier that my team is
+the most experienced and capable. Just whom are you going to send to
+pick me up? Members of some of the other teams? Old friends and
+comrades in arms. Many of whom owe their lives to my team when all
+bets were down. Please do send them, Doctor, I am going to need
+recruits."
+
+He swung and left the office and even as he went could hear the angry
+Reunited Nations chief blasting into an interoffice communicator. He
+decided he'd better see if there wasn't a back door or window through
+which to leave the building. He'd have to phone Bey, Isobel and the
+others and get together for a meeting to plan developments. El Hassan
+was getting off to a fast start, already he was on the lam.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Homer Crawford played it safe. From the nearest public phone he called
+Isobel Cunningham at the Hotel Juan-le-Pin. No matter how fast Sven
+Zetterberg swung into action, it would take his operatives some time
+to connect Isobel with Homer and his team. As an employee of the
+Africa for Africans Association, she would ordinarily come in little
+contact with the Reunited Nations teams.
+
+He said, "Isobel? Homer here. Can you talk?"
+
+She said, "Cliff and Jake are here."
+
+He said, "Have you sounded them out? How do they feel about the El
+Hassan project?"
+
+"They're in. At least, Jake is. We're still arguing with Cliff."
+
+"O.K. Now listen, carefully. Zetterberg turned thumbs down on the
+whole deal, for various reasons we can discuss later. In fact, he's
+incensed and threatened to take steps to keep us from leaving Dakar."
+
+Isobel was alerted but she snorted deprecation. "What do you want?"
+
+"They're probably already looking for me, and in a matter of minutes
+will probably try to pick up Bey-ag-Akhamouk, Elmer Allen and Kenny
+Ballalou, the other members of my team. Get in touch with them
+immediately and tell them to get into native costume and into hiding.
+You and Jake--and Cliff--do the same."
+
+"Right. Where do we meet and when?"
+
+"In the _souk_, in the food market. There's a native restaurant there,
+run by a former Vietnamese. We'll meet there at approximately noon."
+
+"Right. Anything else?"
+
+Homer said, "Tell Bey to bring along an extra 9mm Recoilless for me."
+
+"Yes, El Hassan," she said, her voice expressionless. She didn't waste
+time. Homer Crawford heard the phone click as she hung up.
+
+He was in a branch building of the post and telegraph network on the
+Rue des Resistance. Before leaving it, he looked out a window. Half a
+block away was the office of the Sahara Division of the African
+Development Project. Even as he watched, a dozen men hurried out the
+front door, fanned out in all directions.
+
+Homer grinned sourly. Old Sven was moving fast.
+
+He shot a quick glance around the lobby of the building. He had to get
+going. Zetterberg had started with a dozen men to trail down El
+Hassan. He'd probably have a hundred involved before the hour was out.
+
+A corridor turned off to the right. Homer hurried down it. At each
+door he looked inside. To whoever occupied the room he murmured a few
+words of apology in Wolof, the Sengalese lingua franca. The fourth
+office was empty.
+
+Homer stood there before it for a long, agonizing moment, waiting for
+the right person to pass. Finally, the man he needed came along.
+About six feet tall, about a hundred and eighty; dressed in the local
+native dress and on the ragged side.
+
+Homer said to him authoritatively, in the Wolof tongue, "You there,
+come in here!" He opened the door, and pointed into the office.
+
+The other, taken aback, demurred.
+
+Homer's face and tone went still more commanding. "Step in here,
+before I call the police."
+
+It was all a mistake, of course. The Senegalese made the gesture
+equivalent to the European's shrug, and entered the office.
+
+Homer came in behind him, closed the door. He wasted no time in
+preliminaries. Before the native turned, the American's hand lashed
+out in a karate blow which stunned the other. Homer Crawford caught
+him, even as he fell, and lowered him gently to the floor.
+
+"Sorry, old boy," he muttered, "but this is probably the most
+profitable thing that's happened to you this year."
+
+He stripped off the other's clothes, as rapidly as he could make his
+hands fly. The other was still out and probably would be for another
+ten minutes, Crawford estimated. He stripped off his own clothes and
+donned the native's.
+
+Last of all, he took his wallet from his pocket, divided the money it
+contained and stuffed a considerable wad of it into the European
+clothing he was abandoning.
+
+"Don't spend all of that in one place," he growled softly.
+
+Homer dragged the other to a side of the room so that the body could
+not be spotted from the entrance. Then he crossed to the door, opened
+it and stepped into the corridor beyond.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+There was no need for sulking. He walked out the front door and headed
+away from the dock and administration buildings area and toward the
+native section, passing the Reunited Nations building on the way.
+
+Dakar teems with multitudes of a dozen tribes come in from the jungles
+and the bush, the desert and the swamp areas of the sources of the
+Niger, to look for work on the new projects, to visit relatives, to
+market for the products of civilization--or to gawk. Homer Crawford
+disappeared into them. One among many.
+
+Toward noon, he entered the cleared area which was the restaurant he
+had named to Isobel and squatted before the pots to the far end of the
+Vietnamese owned eatery, examining them with care. He chose a large
+chunk of barbequed goat and was served it with a half pound piece of
+unsalted Senegalese bread, torn from a monstrous loaf, and a twisted
+piece of newspaper into which had been measured an ounce or so of
+coarse salt. He took his meal and went to as secluded a corner as he
+could find.
+
+Homer Crawford chuckled inwardly. That morning he had breakfasted in
+the most swank hotel in West Africa. He wished there was some manner
+in which he could have invited Sven Zetterberg to dine here with him.
+Or, come to think of it, a group of the students he had once taught
+sociology at the University of Michigan. Or, possibly, prexy
+Wallington, under whom he had worked while taking his doctor's degree.
+
+Yes, it would have been interesting to have had a luncheon companion.
+
+A native woman, on the stoutish side but with her hair done up in one
+of the fabulously ornate hair styles specialized in by the Senegalese,
+and wearing a flowing, shapeless dress of the garish textiles run off
+purposely for this market in Japan and Manchester, waddled up to take
+a place nearby. She bore a huge skewer of barbequed beef chunks, and a
+hunk of bread not unlike Homer's own.
+
+She grumbled uncomfortably, her back to the American, as she settled
+into a position on the floor. And she mumbled as she began chewing at
+the meat.
+
+_No table manners_, Homer Crawford grinned inwardly. He wondered how
+long it would take for the others to get here. He wasn't worried about
+Isobel, Cliff Jackson and Jake Armstrong. It would take time before
+Zetterberg's Reunited Nations cloak and dagger boys got around to
+them, but he wasn't sure that she'd be able to locate his own team in
+time. That bit he'd given the Swede official about his being so
+bully-bully with the other Reunited Nations teams was in the way of
+being an exaggeration, with the idea of throwing the other off.
+Actually, working in the field on definite assignments, it was seldom
+you ran into other African Development Project men. But perhaps it
+would tie Zetterberg up, wondering just who he could trust to send
+looking for El Hassan.
+
+He finished off his barbequed goat and the bread and wiped his hands
+on his clothes. Nobody here yet. To have an excuse for staying, he
+would have to buy a bottle of Gazelle beer, the cheap Senegalese brew
+which came in quart bottles and was warm and on the gassy side.
+
+It was then that the woman in front of him, without turning, said
+softly, "El Hassan?"
+
+
+II
+
+Homer Crawford stared at her, unbelievingly. The woman couldn't
+possibly be an emissary from Isobel or from one of his own companions.
+This situation demanded the utmost secrecy, they hadn't had time to
+screen any outsiders as to trustworthiness.
+
+She turned. It was Isobel. She chuckled softly, "You should see your
+face."
+
+His eyes went to her figure.
+
+"Done with mirrors," Isobel said. "Or, at least, with pillows."
+
+Homer didn't waste time. "Where are the others? They should be here by
+now."
+
+"We figured that the fewer of us seen on the streets, the better. So
+they're waiting for you. Since I was the most easily disguised, the
+least suspicious looking, I was elected to come get you."
+
+"Waiting where?"
+
+She licked the side of her mouth, a disconcerting characteristic of
+hers, and looked at him archly. "Those pals of yours have quite a bit
+on the ball on their own. They decided that there was a fairly good
+chance that Sven Zetterberg wasn't exactly going to fall into your
+arms, so they took preliminary measures. Kenny Ballalou rented a small
+house, here in the native quarter. We've all rendezvoused there. See,
+you aren't the only one on the ball."
+
+Homer frowned at her, for the moment being in no mood for humor. "What
+was the idea of sitting here for the past five minutes without even
+speaking? You must have recognized me, knowing what to look for."
+
+She nodded. "I ... I wasn't sure, Homer, but I had the darnedest
+feeling I was being followed."
+
+His glance was sharp now. First at her, then a quick darting around
+the vicinity. "Woman's intuition," he snapped, "or something
+substantial?"
+
+She frowned at him. "I'm not a ninny, Homer."
+
+His voice softened and he said quickly, "Don't misunderstand, Isobel.
+I know that."
+
+She forgot about her objection to his tone. "Even intuition doesn't
+come out of a clear sky. Something sparks it. Subconscious psi,
+possibly, but a spark."
+
+"However?" he prodded.
+
+"I took all precautions. I can't seem to put my finger on anything."
+
+"O.K.," he said decisively. "Let's go then." He came to his feet and
+reached a hand down for her.
+
+"Heavens to Betsy," she said, "don't do that."
+
+"What?"
+
+"Help a woman in public. You'll look suspicious." She came to her own
+feet, without aid.
+
+_Damn_, he thought. She was right. The last thing he wanted was to
+draw attention to a man who acted peculiarly.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+They made their way out of the food market and into the _souk_ proper,
+Homer walking three or four paces ahead of her, Isobel demurely
+behind, her eyes on the ground. They passed the native stands and tiny
+shops, and the even smaller venders and hucksters with their products
+of the mass production industries of East and West, side by side with
+the native handicrafts ranging from carved wooden statues, jewelry,
+_gris gris_ charms and kambu fetishes, to ceramics whose designs went
+back to an age before the Portuguese first cruised off this coast. And
+everywhere was color; there are no people on earth more color
+conscious than the Senegalese.
+
+Isobel guided him, her voice quiet and still maintaining its
+uncharacteristic demure quality.
+
+He would never have recognized Isobel, Homer Crawford told himself.
+Isobel Cunningham, late of Columbia University where she'd taken her
+Master's in anthropology. Isobel Cunningham, whom he had told on their
+first meeting that she looked like the former singing star, Lena
+Horne. Isobel Cunningham, slight of build, pixie of face, crisply
+modern American with her tongue and wit. Was he in love with her? He
+didn't know. El Hassan had no time, at present, for those things love
+implied.
+
+She said, "Here," and led the way down a brick paved passage to a
+small house, almost a hut, that lay beyond.
+
+Homer Crawford looked about him critically before entering. He said,
+"I suppose this has been scouted out adequately. Where's the back
+entrance?" He scowled. "Haven't the boys posted a sentry?"
+
+A voice next to his ear said pleasantly, "Stick 'em up, stranger.
+Where'd you get that zoot suit?"
+
+He jerked his head about. There was a very small opening in the wooden
+wall next to him. It was Kenny Ballalou's voice.
+
+"Zoot suit, yet!" Homer snorted. "I haven't heard that term since I
+was in rompers."
+
+"You in rompers I'd like to see," Kenny snorted in his turn. "Come on
+in, everybody's here."
+
+The aged, unpainted, warped, wooden house consisted of two rooms, the
+one three times as large as the second. The furniture was minimal, but
+there was sitting room on chair, stool and bed for the seven of them.
+
+"Hail, O El Hassan!" Elmer Allen called sourly, as Homer entered.
+
+"And the hail with you," Homer called back, then, "Oops, sorry,
+Isobel."
+
+Isobel put her hands on her hips, greatly widened by the stuffing
+she'd placed beneath her skirts. "Look," she said. "Thus far, the El
+Hassan organization, which claims rule of all North Africa, consists
+of six men and one dame ... ah, that is, one lady. Just so the lady
+won't continually feel that she's being a drag on the conversation,
+you are hereby allowed in moments of stress such shocking profanity as
+an occasional damn or hell. But only if said lady is also allowed such
+expletives during periods of similar stress."
+
+Everyone laughed, and found chairs.
+
+"I'm in love with Isobel Cunningham," Bey announced definitely.
+
+"Second the motion," Elmer said.
+
+The rest of them called, "Aye."
+
+"O.K.," Homer Crawford said glumly, "I can see that this is going to
+be one tight knit organization. Six men in love with the one dame ...
+ah, that is, lady. Kind of a reverse harem deal. Oh, this is going to
+lead to great co-operation."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+They laughed again and then Jake said, "Well, what's the story, Homer?
+How does the El Hassan project sound to Zetterberg and the Reunited
+Nations?"
+
+Cliff Jackson laughed bitterly. "Why do you think we're in hiding?"
+Only he and Jake Armstrong wore western clothing. Kenny Ballalou,
+Bey-ag-Akhamouk and Elmer Allen were in native dress, similar to that
+of Homer Crawford. Elmer Allen even bore a pilgrim's staff.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+Crawford, glad that the edge of tenseness had been taken off the group
+by the banter with Isobel, turned serious now.
+
+He said, "This is where we each take our stand. You can turn back at
+this point, any one of you, and things will undoubtedly go on as
+before. You'll keep your jobs, have no marks against you. Beyond this
+point, and there's no turning back. I want you all to think it over,
+before coming to any snap decisions."
+
+Elmer Allen said, his face wearing its usual all but sullen
+expression. "How about you?"
+
+Homer said evenly, "I've already taken my stand."
+
+Kenny Ballalou yawned and said, "I've been in this team for three or
+four years, I'm too lazy to switch now Besides, I've always wanted to
+be a corrupt politician. Can I be treasurer in this El Hassan regime?"
+
+"No," Homer said. "Bey?"
+
+Bey-ag-Akhamouk said, "I've always wanted to be a general. I'll come
+in under those circumstances."
+
+Homer said, his voice still even. "That's out. From this point in,
+you're a Field Marshal and Minister of Defense."
+
+"Shucks," Bey said. "I'd always wanted to be a general."
+
+Homer Crawford said dryly, "Doesn't anybody take this seriously? It's
+probably going to mean all your necks before it's through, you know."
+
+Elmer Allen said dourly, "I take it seriously. I spent the idealistic
+years, the school years, working for peace, democracy, a better world.
+Now, here I am, helping to attempt to establish a tyranny over half
+the continent of my racial background. But I'm in."
+
+"Right," Homer said, the side of his mouth twitching. "You can be our
+Minister of Propaganda."
+
+"Minister of Propaganda!" Elmer wailed. "You mean like Goebbels? Me!"
+
+Homer laughed. "O.K., we'll call it Minister of Information, or Press
+Secretary to El Hassan. It all means the same thing." He looked at
+Jacob Armstrong and said, "How old are you, Jake?"
+
+"That's none of your business," the white-haired Jake said
+aggressively. "I'm in. El Hassan is the only answer. North Africa has
+got to be united, both for internal and external purposes. If you ...
+if we ... don't do the job first, somebody else will, and off hand, I
+can't think of anybody else I trust. I'm in."
+
+Homer Crawford looked at him for a long moment. "Yes," he said
+finally. "Of course you are. Jake, you've just been made our combined
+Foreign Minister and Plenipotentiary Extraordinary to the Reunited
+Nations. You'll leave immediately, first for Geneva, to present our
+demands to the Reunited Nations, then to New York."
+
+"What do I do in New York?" Jake Armstrong said blankly, trying to
+assimilate the curves that were being thrown to him.
+
+"You raise money and support from starry eyed Negro groups and
+individuals. You line up such organizations as the Africa for Africans
+Association behind El Hassan. You give speeches, and ruin your liver
+eating at banquets every night in the week. You send out releases to
+the press. You get all the publicity for the El Hassan movement you
+can. You send official protests to the governments of every country in
+the world, every time they do something that doesn't fit in with our
+needs. You locate recruits and send them here to Africa to take over
+some of the load. I don't have to tell you what to do. You can think
+on your feet as well as I can. Do what is necessary. You're our
+Foreign Minister. Don't let us see your face again until El Hassan is
+in control of North Africa."
+
+Jake Armstrong blinked. "How will I prove I'm your representative?
+I'll need more than just a note _To Whom It May Concern_."
+
+Homer Crawford thought about that.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Bey said, "One of our first jobs is going to have to be to capture a
+town where they have a broadcast station, say Zinder or In Salah. When
+we do, we'll announce that you're Foreign Minister."
+
+Crawford nodded. "That's obviously the ticket. By that time you should
+be in New York, with an office opened."
+
+Jake rubbed a black hand over his cheek as though checking his morning
+shave. "It's going to take some money to get started. Once started I
+can depend on contributions, perhaps, but at first...."
+
+Homer interrupted with, "Cliff, you're Minister of the Treasury.
+Raise some money."
+
+"Eh?" Cliff Jackson said blankly. The king-size, easy-going
+Californian looked more like the early Joe Louis than ever.
+
+Everybody laughed. Elmer Allen came forth with his wallet and began
+pulling out such notes as it contained. "I don't know what we'd be
+doing with this in the desert," he said.
+
+Isobel said, "I have almost three thousand dollars in a checking
+account in New York. Let's see if I have my checkbook here."
+
+The others were going through their pockets. As bank notes in British
+pounds, American dollars, French francs and Common Europe marks
+emerged they were tossed to the center of the small table which
+wobbled on three legs in the middle of the room.
+
+Elmer Allen said, "I have an account with the Bank of Jamaica in
+Kingston. About four hundred pounds, I think. I'll have it
+transferred."
+
+Cliff took up the money and began counting it, making notations on a
+notebook pad as he went.
+
+Bey said, "We're only going to be able to give Jake part of this."
+
+"How's that?" Elmer growled. "What use have we for money in the
+Sahara? Jake's got to put up a decent front in Geneva and New York."
+
+Bey said doggedly, "As Defense Minister, I'm opposed to El Hassan's
+followers _ever_ taking anything without generous payment. We'll need
+food and various services. From the beginning, we're going to have to
+pay our way. We can't afford to let rumors start going around that
+we're nothing but a bunch of brigands."
+
+"Bey's right," Homer nodded. "The El Hassan movement is going to have
+to maintain itself on the highest ethical level. We're going to take
+over where the French Camel Corps left off and police North Africa.
+There can't be a man from Somaliland to Mauretania who can say that
+one of El Hassan's followers liberated him from as much as a date."
+
+Kenny Ballalou said, "You can always requisition whatever you need and
+give them a receipt, and then we'll pay off when we come to power."
+
+"That's out!" Bey snapped. "Most of these people can't read. And even
+those that do don't trust what they read. A piece of paper, in their
+eyes, is no return for some goats, or flour, camels, horses, or
+whatever else it might be we need. No, we're going to have to pay our
+way."
+
+Crawford raked a hand back through his wiry hair. "Bey's right, Kenny.
+It's going to be a rough go, especially at first."
+
+Kenny snorted. "What do you mean, _at first?_ What's going to happen,
+_at second_ to make it any easier? Where're we going to get all this
+money we'll need to pay for even what we ourselves use, not to speak
+of the thousands of men we're going to have to have if El Hassan is
+ever to come to power?"
+
+Bey's eyebrows went up in shocked innocence. "Kenny, dear boy, don't
+misunderstand. We don't requisition anything from individuals, or
+clans, or small settlements. But if we take over a town such as Gao,
+or Niamey, or Colomb-Bechar, or wherever, there is nothing to say that
+a legal government such as that of El Hassan, can't requisition the
+contents of the local banks."
+
+Homer Crawford said with dignity, "The term, my dear Minister of
+Defense, currently is to _nationalize_ the bank. Whether or not we
+wish to have the banks remain nationalized, after we take over, we can
+figure out later. But in the early stages, I'm afraid we're going to
+have to nationalize just about every bank we come in contact with."
+
+Cliff Jackson said cautiously, "I haven't said whether or not I'll
+come in yet, but just as a point, I might mention issuing your own
+legal tender. As soon as you liberate a printing press somewhere, of
+course."
+
+Everyone was charmed at the idea.
+
+Isobel said, "You can see Cliff was _meant_ to be Minister of
+Treasury. He's got _wholesale_ larceny in his soul, none of this
+picayunish stuff such as robbing nomads of their sheep."
+
+Elmer Allen was shaking his head sadly. "This whole conversation
+started with Bey protesting that we couldn't allow ourselves to be
+thought of as brigands. Now listen to you all."
+
+Kenny Ballalou said with considerable dignity, "See here, friend.
+Don't you know the difference between brigandage and international
+finance?"
+
+"No," Elmer said flatly.
+
+"Hm-m-m," Kenny said.
+
+"Let's get on with this," Homer said. "The forming of El Hassan's
+basic government is beginning to take on aspects of a minstrel show.
+Then we've all declared ourselves in ... except Cliff."
+
+All eyes turned to the bulky Californian.
+
+He sat scowling.
+
+Homer said, easily, "You're not being urged, Cliff. You can turn back
+at this point."
+
+Elmer Allen growled, "You came to Africa to help your race develop its
+continent. To conquer such problems as sufficient food, clothing and
+shelter for all. To bring education and decent medical care to a
+people who have had possibly the lowest living standards anywhere. Can
+you see any way of achieving this beyond the El Hassan movement?"
+
+Cliff looked at him, still scowling stubbornly. "That's not why I came
+to Africa."
+
+Their eyes were all on him, but they remained silent.
+
+He said, defensively, "I'm no do-gooder. I took a job with the Africa
+for Africans Association because it was the best job I could find."
+
+Isobel broke the silence by saying softly, "I doubt it, Cliff."
+
+The big man stood up from where he'd been seated on the bed. "O.K.,
+O.K. Possibly there were other angles. I wanted to travel. Wanted to
+see Africa. Besides, it was good background for some future job. I
+figured it wouldn't hurt me any, in later years, applying for some
+future job. Maybe with some Negro concern in the States. I'd be able
+to say I'd put in a few years in Africa. Something like a Jew in New
+York who was a veteran of the Israel-Arab wars, before the debacle."
+
+They still looked at him, none of them accusingly.
+
+He was irritated as he paced. "Don't you see? Everybody doesn't have
+this _dream_ that Homer's always talking about. That doesn't mean I'm
+abnormal. I just don't have the interest you do. All I want is a good
+job, some money in the bank, security back in the States. I'm not
+interested in dashing all over the globe, getting shot at, dying for
+some ideal."
+
+Homer said gently, "It's up to you, Cliff. Nobody's twisting your
+arm."
+
+There was sweat on the big man's forehead. "All I came to Africa for
+was the job, the money I got out of it," he repeated, insisting.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+To Homer Crawford suddenly came the realization that the other needed
+an out, an excuse. An explanation to himself for doing something he
+wanted to do but wouldn't admit because it went against the
+opportunistic code he told himself he followed.
+
+Homer said, "All right. How much are you making as a field worker for
+the Africa for Africans Association?"
+
+Cliff looked at him, uncomprehending. "Eight thousand dollars, plus
+expenses."
+
+"O.K., we'll double that. Sixteen thousand to begin with, as El
+Hassan's Minister of Treasury and whatever other duties we can think
+of to hang on you."
+
+There was a long moment of silence, unbroken by any of the others.
+Finally in a gesture of desperation, Cliff Jackson waved at the money
+and checks sitting on the center table. "Sixteen thousand a year! The
+whole organization doesn't have enough to pay me six months' salary."
+
+Homer said mildly, "That's why your pay was doubled. You have to take
+risks to make money in this world, Cliff. If El Hassan does come to
+power, undoubtedly you'll get other raises--along with greater
+responsibility."
+
+He looked into Cliff Jackson's face, and although his words had dealt
+with money, a man's dream looked out from his eyes. And the force of
+personality that could emanate from Homer Crawford, possibly
+unbeknownst to himself, flooded over the huge Californian. The others
+in the room could feel it. Elmer Allen cleared his throat; Isobel held
+her elbows to her sides, in a feminine protest against naked male
+psychic strength.
+
+Kenny Ballalou said without inflection, "Put up or shut up, Cliff old
+pal."
+
+Cliff Jackson sank back onto the spot on the bed he'd occupied before.
+"I'm in," he muttered, so softly as hardly to be heard.
+
+"None of you are in," a voice from the doorway said.
+
+The figure that stood there held a thin, but heavy calibered
+automatic in his hand.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+He was a dapper man, neat, trim, smart. His clothes were those of
+Greater Washington, rather than Dakar and West Africa. His facial
+expression seemed overly alert, overly bright, and his features were
+more Caucasian than Negroid.
+
+He said, "I believe you all know me. Fredric Ostrander."
+
+"Of the Central Intelligence Agency," Homer Crawford said dryly. He as
+well as Bey, Elmer and Kenny had risen to their feet when the newcomer
+entered from the smaller of the hut's two rooms. "What's the gun for,
+Ostrander?"
+
+"You're under arrest," the C.I.A. man said evenly.
+
+Elmer Allen snorted. "Under whose authority are you working? As a
+Jamaican, I'm a citizen of the West Indies and a subject of Her
+Majesty."
+
+"We'll figure that out later," Ostrander rapped. "I'm sure the
+appropriate Commonwealth authorities will co-operate with the State
+Department and the Reunited Nations in this matter." The gun
+unwaveringly went from one of them to the other, retraced itself.
+
+Bey looked at Homer Crawford.
+
+Crawford shook his head gently.
+
+He said to the newcomer, "The question still stands, Ostrander. Under
+whose authority are you operating? I don't think you have jurisdiction
+over us. We're in Africa, not in the United States of the Americas."
+
+Ostrander said tightly, "Right now I'm operating under the authority
+of this weapon in my hand. Dr. Crawford. Do you realize that all of
+you Americans here are risking your citizenship?"
+
+Kenny Ballalou said, "Oh? Tell us more, Mr. State Department man."
+
+"You're serving in the armed forces of a foreign power."
+
+Even the dour Elmer Allen laughed at that one.
+
+Crawford said, "The fact of the matter is, we _are_ the foreign
+power."
+
+"You're not amusing, Dr. Crawford," Ostrander said. "I've kept up with
+this situation since you had that conference in Timbuktu. The State
+Department has no intention of allowing some opportunist, backed by
+known communists and fellow travelers, to seize power in this portion
+of the world. In a matter of months the Soviets would be in here."
+
+Isobel said evenly, "I was formerly a member of the Party. I no longer
+am. I am an active opponent of the Soviet Complex at the moment,
+especially in regard to its activity in Africa."
+
+Ostrander snorted his disbelief.
+
+Elmer Allen said, "You chaps never forget, do you?" He looked at the
+others and explained. "Back during college days, I signed a few peace
+petitions, that sort of thing. Ever since, every time I come in
+contact with these people, you'd think I was Lenin or Trotsky."
+
+Homer Crawford said, "My opinion is, Ostrander, that you've had to
+move too quickly to check back with your superiors. Has the State
+Department actually instructed you to arrest me and my companions here
+on foreign soil, without a warrant?"
+
+Ostrander clipped, "That's my responsibility. I'm taking you all in.
+We'll solve such problems as jurisdiction and warrants when I get you
+to the Reunited Nations headquarters."
+
+"Ah?" Homer Crawford said. "And then what happens to us?"
+
+Ostrander jiggled the gun, impatiently. "Sven Zetterberg is of the
+opinion that you should immediately be flown out of Africa and the
+case brought before the High Council of the African Development
+Project. What measures will be taken beyond that point I have no way
+of knowing."
+
+Bey took a step to the left, Kenny Ballalou one to the right. Homer
+Crawford remained immediately before the C.I.A. operative, his hands
+slightly out from his sides, palms slightly forward.
+
+Ostrander snapped, "I'm prepared to fire, you men. I don't
+underestimate the importance of this situation. If your crazy scheme
+makes any progress at all, it might well result in the death of
+thousands. I know your background, Crawford. You once taught judo in
+the Marines. I'm not unfamiliar with the art myself."
+
+Isobel had a hand to her mouth, her eyes were wide. "Boys, don't ..."
+she began.
+
+Elmer Allen had been leaning on his pilgrim's staff, as though weary
+with this whole matter. He said to Ostrander, interestedly, "So you've
+been checked out on judo? Know anything about the use of the
+quarterstaff?"
+
+Ostrander kept his gun traversing between the four of them. "Eh?" he
+said.
+
+Elmer Allen shifted his grip on his staff infinitesimally. Of a
+sudden, the end of the staff, now gripped with both hands near the
+center, moved at invisibly high speed. There was a crack of the wrist
+bone, and the gun went flying. The other end of the staff flicked out
+and rapped the C.I.A. operative smartly on the head.
+
+Fredric Ostrander crumbled to the floor.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"Confound it, Elmer," Crawford said. "What'd you have to go and do
+that for? I wanted to talk to him some more and send a message back to
+Zetterberg. Sooner or later we've got to make our peace with the
+Reunited Nations."
+
+Elmer said embarrassedly, "Sorry, it just happened. I was merely going
+to knock the gun out of his hand, but then I couldn't help myself. I
+was tired of hearing that holier-than-thou voice of his."
+
+Kenny Ballalou looked down at the fallen man gloomily. "He'll be out
+for an hour. You're lucky you didn't crack his skull."
+
+"Holy Mackerel," Cliff Jackson said. "I'm going to have to learn to
+operate one of those things."
+
+Elmer Allen handed him the supposed pilgrim's staff. "Best
+hand-to-hand combat weapon ever invented," he said. "The British
+yeoman's quarterstaff. Of course, this is a modernized version. Made
+of epoxy resin glass-fiber material, treated to look like wood. That
+stuff can turn a high-velocity bullet, let alone a sword, and it can
+be bent in a ninety degree arc without the slightest effect, although
+it'd take a power-driven testing machine to do it."
+
+"All right, all right," Homer said. "We haven't got time for lessons
+in the use of the quarterstaff. Let's put some thought to this
+situation. If Ostrander here was able to find us, somebody else would,
+too."
+
+Isobel licked the side of her mouth. "He was probably following me.
+Remember, I told you Homer?"
+
+Kenny said, "If he had anyone with him, he'd have brought them along
+to cover him. You've got to give him credit for bravery, taking on the
+whole bunch of us by himself."
+
+"Um-m-m," Homer said. "I wish he was with us instead of against us."
+
+Jake Armstrong said, "Well, this solves one problem."
+
+They looked at him.
+
+He said, "Just as sure as sure, he's got a car parked somewhere. A car
+with some sort of United States or Reunited Nations emblem on it."
+
+"So what?" Kenny said.
+
+"So you've got to get out of town before the search for you _really_
+gets under way. With such a car, you can get past any roadblock that
+might already be up between here and the Yoff airport."
+
+Elmer Allen had sunk to his knees and was searching the fallen C.I.A.
+man. He came up with car keys and a wallet.
+
+Homer said to Jake Armstrong, "Why the Yoff airport?"
+
+"Our plane is there," Jake told him. "The one assigned Isobel, Cliff
+and me by the AFAA. You're going to have to make time. Get somewhere
+out in the ah, boondocks, where you can begin operations."
+
+Bey said thoughtfully, "He's right, Homer. Anybody against us, like
+our friend here"--he nodded at Ostrander--"is going to try to get us
+quick, before we can get the El Hassan movement under way. We've got
+to get out of Dakar and into some area where they'll have their work
+cut out trying to locate us."
+
+Homer Crawford accepted their council. "O.K., let's get going. Jake,
+you'll stay in Dakar, and at first play innocent. As soon as possible,
+take plane for Geneva. As soon as you're there, send out press
+releases to all the news associations and the larger papers. Announce
+yourself as Foreign Minister of El Hassan and demand that he be
+recognized as the legal head of state of all North Africa."
+
+"Wow," Cliff Jackson said.
+
+"Then play it by ear," Homer finished.
+
+He turned to the others. "Bey, where'd you leave our two hover-lorries
+when you came here to Dakar?"
+
+"Stashed away in the ruins of a former mansion in Timbuktu. Hired two
+Songhai to watch them."
+
+"O.K. Cliff, you're the only one in European dress. Take this wallet
+of Ostrander's. You'll drive the car. If we run into any roadblocks
+between here and the Yoff airport, slow down a little and hold the
+wallet out to show your supposed identification. They won't take the
+time to check the photo. Bluff your way past, don't completely stop
+the car."
+
+"What happens if they do stop us?" Cliff said worriedly.
+
+Kenny Ballalou said, "That'll be just too bad for them."
+
+Bey stooped and scooped up the fallen automatic of Fredric Ostrander
+and tucked it into the voluminous folds of his native robe. "Here we
+go again," he said.
+
+
+III
+
+The man whose undercover name was Anton, landed at Gibraltar in a BEA
+roco-jet, passed quickly through customs and immigration with his
+Commonwealth passport and made his way into town. He checked with a
+Bobby and found that he had a two-hour wait until the Mons Capa ferry
+left for Tangier, and spent the time wandering up and down Main
+Street, staring into the Indian shops with their tax-free cameras from
+Common Europe, textiles from England, optical equipment from Japan,
+and cheap souvenirs from everywhere. Gibraltar, the tourist's shopping
+paradise.
+
+The trip between Gibraltar and Tangier takes approximately two hours.
+If you've never made it before, you stand on deck and watch Spain
+recede behind you, and Africa loom closer. This was where Hercules
+supposedly threw up his Pillars, Gibraltar being the one on the
+European shore. Those who have made the trip again and again, sit down
+in the bar and enjoy the tax-free prices. The man named Anton stood on
+the deck. He was African by birth, but he'd never been to Morocco
+before.
+
+When he landed, he made the initial error of expecting the local
+citizenry to speak Arabic. They didn't. Rif, a Berber tongue, was the
+first language. The man called Anton had to speak French to make known
+his needs. He took a Chico cab up from the port to the El Minza hotel,
+immediately off the Plaza de France, the main square of the European
+section.
+
+At the hotel entrance were two jet-black doormen attired in a
+pseudo-Moroccan costume of red fez, voluminous pants and yellow
+barusha slippers. They made no note of his complexion, there is no
+color bar in the Islamic world.
+
+He had reservations at the desk. He left his passport there to go
+through the standard routine, including being checked by the police,
+had his bag sent up to his room and, a few minutes later, hands
+nonchalantly in pockets, strolled along the Rue de Liberte toward the
+casbah area of the medina. Up from the native section of town streamed
+hordes of costumed Rifs, Arabs, Berbers of a dozen tribes, even an
+occasional Blue Man. At least half the women still wore the haik and
+veil, half the men the burnoose. Africa changes slowly, the man
+called Anton admitted to himself all over again--so slowly.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+Down from the European section, which could have been a Californian
+city, filtered every nation of the West, from every section of Common
+Europe, the Americas, the Soviet Complex. If any city in the world is
+a melting pot, it is Tangier, where Africa meets Europe and where East
+meets West.
+
+He passed through the teaming Grand Zocco market, and through the
+gates of the old city. He took Rue Singhalese, the only street in the
+medina wide enough to accommodate a vehicle and went almost as far as
+the Zocco Chico, once considered the most notorious square in the
+world.
+
+For a moment the man called Anton stood before one of the Indian shops
+and stared at the window's contents. Carved ivory statuettes from the
+Far East, cameras from Japan, ebony figurines, chess sets of water
+jade, gimcracks from everywhere.
+
+A Hindu stood in the doorway and rubbed his hands in a gesture so
+stereotyped as to be ludicrous. "Sir, would you like to enter my shop?
+I have amazing bargains."
+
+The man they called Anton entered.
+
+He looked about the shop, otherwise empty of customers. Vaguely, he
+wondered if the other ever sold anything, and, if so, to whom.
+
+He said, "I was looking for an ivory elephant, from the East."
+
+The Indian's eyebrows rose. "A white elephant?"
+
+"A red elephant," the man called Anton said.
+
+"In here," the Hindu said evenly, and led the way to the rear.
+
+The rooms beyond were comfortable but not ostentatious. They passed
+through a livingroom-study to an office beyond. The door was open and
+the Indian merely gestured in the way of introduction, and then left.
+
+Kirill Menzhinsky, agent superior of the _Chrezvychainaya Komissiya_
+for North Africa, looked up from his desk, smiled his pleasure, came
+to his feet and held out his hand.
+
+"Anton!" he said. "I've been expecting you."
+
+The man they called Anton smiled honestly and shook. "Kirill," he
+said. "It's been a long time."
+
+The other motioned to a comfortable armchair, resumed his own seat.
+"It's been a long time all right--almost five years. As I recall, I
+was slung over your shoulder, and you were wading through those
+confounded swamps. The ..."
+
+"The Everglades."
+
+"Yes." The heavy-set Russian espionage chief chuckled. "You are much
+stronger than you look, Anton. As I recall, I ordered you to abandon
+me."
+
+The wiry Negro grunted deprecation. "You were delirious from your
+wound."
+
+The Russian came to his feet, turned his back and went to a small
+improvised bar. He said, his voice low, "No, Anton, I wasn't
+delirious. Perhaps a bit afraid, but then the baying of dogs is
+disconcerting."
+
+The man they called Anton said, "It is all over now."
+
+The Russian returned and said, "A drink, Anton? As I recall you were
+never the man to refuse a drink. Scotch, bourbon, vodka?"
+
+The other shrugged. "I believe in drinking the local product. What is
+the beverage of Tangier?"
+
+Kirill Menzhinsky took up a full bottle the contents of which had a
+greenish, somewhat _oily_ tinge. "Absinthe," he said. "Guaranteed to
+turn your brains to mush if you take it long enough. What was the name
+of that French painter...?"
+
+"Toulouse Lautrec," Anton supplied. "I thought the stuff was illegal
+these days." He watched the other add water to the potent liqueur.
+
+The Russian chuckled. "Nothing is illegal in Tangier, my dear Anton,
+except the Party." He laughed at his own joke and handed the other his
+glass. He poured himself a jolt of vodka and returned to his chair.
+"To the world revolution, Anton."
+
+The Negro saluted with his drink. "The revolution!"
+
+They drank.
+
+The Russian put down his glass and sighed. "I wish we were some place
+in our own lands, Anton. Dinner, many drinks, perhaps some girls, eh?"
+
+Anton shrugged. "Another time, Kirill."
+
+"Yes. As it is, we should not be seen together. Nor, for that matter
+should you even return here. The imperialists are not stupid. Very
+possibly, American and Common Europe espionage agents know of this
+headquarters. Not to speak of the Arab Union. I shall try to give you
+the whole story and your assignment in this next half hour. Then you
+should depart immediately."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The man they called Anton sipped his drink and relaxed in his chair.
+He looked at his superior without comment.
+
+The Russian took another jolt of his water-clear drink. "Have you ever
+heard of El Hassan?"
+
+The Negro thought a moment before saying, "Vaguely. Evidently an Arab,
+or possibly a Tuareg. North African nationalist. No, that wouldn't be
+the word, since he is international. At any rate, he seems to be
+drawing a following in the Sahara and as far south as the Sudan. Backs
+modernization and wants unity of all North Africa. Is he connected
+with the Party?"
+
+The espionage chief was shaking his head. "That is the answer I
+expected you to give, and is approximately what anyone else would have
+said. Actually, there is no such person as El Hassan."
+
+Anton frowned. "I'm afraid you're wrong there, Kirill. I've heard
+about him in half a dozen places. Very mysterious figure. Nobody seems
+to have seen him, but word of his program is passed around from
+Ethiopia to Mauretania."
+
+The Russian was shaking his head negatively. "That I know. It's a
+rather strange story and one rather hard to believe if it wasn't for
+the fact that one of my operatives was in on the, ah, _manufacturing_
+of this Saharan leader."
+
+"Manufacturing?"
+
+"I'll give you the details later. Were you acquainted with Abraham
+Baker, the American comrade?"
+
+"Were? I _am_ acquainted with him. Abe is a friend as well as a
+comrade."
+
+The Russian shook his head again. "Baker is dead, Anton. As you
+possibly know, his assignment for the past few years has been with a
+Reunited Nations African Development Project team, working in the
+Sahara region. We planted him there expecting the time to arrive when
+his services would be of considerable value. He worked with a five-man
+team headed by a Dr. Homer Crawford and largely the team's task was to
+eliminate bottlenecks that developed as the various modernization
+projects spread over the desert."
+
+"But what's this got to do with _manufacturing_ El Hassan?"
+
+"I'm coming to that. Crawford's team, including Comrade Baker, usually
+disguised themselves as Enaden smiths. As such, their opinions carried
+little weight so in order to spread Reunited Nations propaganda, they
+hit upon the idea of imputing everything they said to this great hero
+of the desert, El Hassan."
+
+"I see," the man called Anton said.
+
+"Others, without knowing the origin of our El Hassan, took up the idea
+and spread it. These nomads are at an ethnic level where they want a
+hero to follow, a leader. So in order to give prestige to their
+teachings the various organizations trying to advance North Africa
+followed in Crawford's footsteps and attributed their teachings to
+this mysterious El Hassan."
+
+"And it snowballed."
+
+"Correct! But the point is that after a time Crawford came around to
+the belief that there should be a real El Hassan. That the primary
+task at this point is to unite the area, to break down the old tribal
+society and introduce the populace to the new world."
+
+"He's probably right," the man called Anton growled. He finished his
+drink, got up from his chair and on his own went over and mixed
+another. "More vodka?" he asked.
+
+"Please." The Russian held up his glass and went on talking. "Yes,
+undoubtedly that is what is needed at this point. As it is, things are
+trending toward a collapse. The imperialists, especially the
+Americans, of course, wish to dominate the area for their capitalistic
+purposes. The Arab Union wishes to take over _in toto_ and make it
+part of their Islamic world. We, of course, cannot afford to let
+either succeed."
+
+The Negro resumed his chair, sipped at his drink and listened, nodding
+from time to time.
+
+Kirill Menzhinsky said, "As you know, Marx and Engels when founding
+scientific socialism had no expectation that their followers would
+first come to power in such backward countries as the Russia of 1917
+or the China of 1949. In fact, the establishment of true socialism
+presupposes a highly developed industrial economy. It is simply
+impossible without such an economy. When Lenin came to power in 1917,
+as a result of the chaotic conditions that prevailed upon the military
+collapse of Imperial Russia, he had no expectation of going it alone,
+as the British would say. He expected immediate revolutions in such
+countries as Germany and France and supposed that these more advanced
+countries would then come to the assistance of the Soviet Union and
+all would advance together to true socialism."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"It didn't work out that way," the man called Anton said dryly.
+
+"No, it didn't. And Lenin didn't live to see the steps that Stalin
+would take in order to build the necessary industrial base in Russia."
+Kirill Menzhinsky looked about the room, almost as though checking to
+see if anyone else was listening. "Some of our more unorthodox
+theoreticians are inclined to think that had Lenin survived the
+assassin's bullet, that Comrade Stalin would have found it necessary
+to, ah, liquidate him."
+
+The Russian cleared his throat. "Be that as it may, basic changes were
+made in Marxist teachings to fit into Stalin's and later Khrushchev's
+new concepts of the worker's State. And the Soviet Union muddled
+through, as the British have it. Today, the Soviet Complex is as
+powerful as the imperialist powers."
+
+The espionage leader knocked back his vodka with a practiced stiff
+wristed motion. "Which brings us to the present and to North Africa."
+He leaned forward in emphasis. "Comrade, if the past half century and
+more has taught us anything, it is that you cannot establish socialism
+in a really backward country. In short, communism is impossible in
+North Africa at this point in her social evolution. Impossible. You
+cannot go directly from tribal society to communism. At this historic
+point, there is no place for the party's program in North Africa."
+
+The man called Anton scowled.
+
+The Russian waggled his hand negatively. "Yes, yes. I know.
+Ultimately, the whole world must become Soviet. Only that way will we
+achieve our eventual goal. But that is the long view. Realistically,
+we must face it, as the Yankees say. This area is not at present soil
+for our seed."
+
+"Things move fast these days," the Negro growled. "Industrialization,
+education, can be a geometric progression."
+
+His superior nodded emphatically. "Of course, and as little as ten or
+fifteen years from now, given progress at the present rate, perhaps
+there will be opportunity for our movement. But now? No."
+
+The other said, "What has all this to do with El Hassan, or Crawford,
+or whatever the man's name is?"
+
+"Yes," the Russian said. "Homer Crawford has evidently decided to
+become El Hassan."
+
+"Ahhh."
+
+"Yes. At this point, in short, he is traveling in our direction. He is
+doing what we realize must be done."
+
+"Then we will support him?"
+
+"Now we come to the point, Anton. Homer Crawford is not sympathetic to
+the Party. To the contrary. Our suspicion, although we have no proof,
+is that he killed Comrade Abe Baker, when Baker approached him on his
+stand in regard to the Party's long view."
+
+"I see," the man called Anton said.
+
+The Russian nodded. "We must keep in some sort of touch with him--some
+sort of control. If this El Hassan realizes his scheme and unites all
+North Africa, sooner or later we will have to deal with him. If he is
+antagonistic, we will have to find means to liquidate him."
+
+"And my assignment...?"
+
+"He will be gathering followers at this point. Many followers, most of
+whom will be unknown to him. You will become one of them. Raise
+yourself to as high a rank as you find possible in his group. Become a
+close friend, if that can be done...."
+
+"He killed Abe Baker, eh?"
+
+The Russian frowned. "This is an assignment, Comrade Anton. There is
+no room for personal feelings. You are a good field man. Among the
+best. You are being given this task because the Party feels you are
+the man for it. Possibly it is an assignment that will take years in
+the fulfilling."
+
+The Negro said nothing.
+
+"Are there any questions?"
+
+"Do we have any other operatives working on this?"
+
+The frown became a scowl. "An Isobel Cunningham worked with Comrade
+Baker, but it has been suspected that she has been drifting away from
+the party these past few years. Her present status is unknown, but she
+is believed to be with Homer Crawford and his followers. Possibly she
+has defected. If so, you will take whatever measures seem necessary.
+You will be working almost completely on your own, Comrade. You must
+think on your feet, as the Yankees say."
+
+The man called Anton thought a moment. He said, "You'd better give me
+as thorough a run down as possible on this Homer Crawford and his
+immediate followers."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Menzhinsky settled back in his chair and took up a sheaf of papers
+from the desk. "We have fairly complete dossiers. I'll give you the
+highlights, then you can take these with you to your hotel to study at
+leisure."
+
+He took up the first sheet. "Homer Crawford. Born in Detroit of
+working-class parents. In his late teens interrupted his education to
+come to Africa where he joined elements of the F.L.N. in Morocco and
+took part in several forays into Algeria. Evidently was wounded and
+invalided back to the States where he resumed his education. When he
+came of military age, he joined the Marine Corps and spent the usual,
+ah, hitch I believe they call it. Following that, he resumed his
+education, finally taking a doctor's degree in sociology. He then
+taught for a time until the Reunited Nations began its African
+program. He accepted a position, and soon distinguished himself."
+
+The Russian took up another paper. "According to Comrade Baker's
+reports, Crawford is an outstanding personality, dominating others,
+even in spite of himself. He would make a top party man. Idealistic,
+strong, clever, ruthless when ruthlessness is called for."
+
+Menzhinsky paused for a moment, finding words hard to come by from an
+ultra-materialist. His tone went wry. "Comrade Baker also reported a
+somewhat mystical quality in our friend Crawford. An ability in times
+of emotional crisis to break down men's mental barriers against him. A
+_force_ that ..."
+
+The other raised his eyebrows.
+
+His superior chuckled, ruefully. "Comrade Baker was evidently much
+swayed by the man's personality. However, Anton, I might point out
+that similar reports have come down to us of such a dominating
+personality in Lenin, and, to a lesser degree, in Stalin." He twisted
+his mouth. "History leads us to believe that such personalities as
+Jesus and Mohammed seemed to have some power beyond that of we more
+mundane types."
+
+"And the others?" Anton said.
+
+The Russian took up still another paper. "Elmer Allen. Born of small
+farmer background on the outskirts of Kingston, on the island of
+Jamaica. Managed to work his way through the University of Kingston
+where he took a master's degree in sociology. At one time he was
+thought to be Party material and was active in several organizations
+that held social connotations, pacifist groups and so forth. However,
+he was never induced to join the Party. Upon graduation, he
+immediately took employment with the Reunited Nations and was assigned
+to Homer Crawford's team. He is evidently in accord with Crawford's
+aims as El Hassan."
+
+The espionage chief took up another sheet. "Bey-ag-Akhamouk ..."
+
+The other scowled. "That can't be an American name."
+
+"No. He is the only real African associated with Crawford at this
+point. He was evidently born a Taureg and taken to the States at an
+early age, three or four, by a missionary. At any rate, he was
+educated at the University of Minnesota where he studied political
+science. We have no record of where he stands politically, but Comrade
+Baker rated him as an outstanding intuitive soldier. A veritable
+genius in combat. He would seem to have had military experience
+somewhere, but we have no record of it. Our Bey-ag-Akhamouk seems
+somewhat of a mystery man."
+
+The Russian sorted out another sheet. "Kenneth Ballalou, born in
+Louisiana, educated in Chicago. Another young man but evidently as
+capable as the others. He seems to be quite a linguist. So far as we
+know, he holds no political stand whatsoever."
+
+Menzhinsky pursed his lips before saying, "The Isobel Cunningham I
+mentioned worked with the Africa for Africans Association with two
+colleagues, a Jacob Armstrong and Clifford Jackson. It is possible
+that these two, as well as Isobel Cunningham, have joined El Hassan.
+If so, we will have to check further upon them, although I understand
+Armstrong is rather elderly and hardly effective under the
+circumstances."
+
+The man called Anton said evenly, "And this former comrade, Isobel
+Cunningham, has evidently joined with Crawford even though he ... was
+the cause of Abe Baker's death?"
+
+"Evidently."
+
+The Negro's eyes narrowed.
+
+The other said, "And evidently she is a most intelligent and
+attractive young lady. We had rather high hopes for her formerly."
+
+The Negro party member came to his feet and gathered up the sheaf of
+papers from the desk. "All right," he said. "Is there anything else?"
+
+The espionage chief shook his head. "You do not need a step by step
+blueprint, Anton, that is why you have been chosen for this
+assignment. You are strongly based in Party doctrine. You know what is
+needed, we can trust you to carry on the Party's aims." After a pause,
+the Russian added, "Without being diverted by personal feelings."
+
+Anton looked him in the face. "Of course," he said.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Fredric Ostrander was on the carpet.
+
+His chief said, "You seem to have conducted yourself rather
+precipitately, Fred."
+
+Ostrander shrugged in irritation. "I didn't have time to consult
+anyone. By pure luck, I spotted the Cunningham girl and since I knew
+she had affiliated herself with Crawford, I followed her."
+
+The chief said dryly, "And tried to arrest the seven of them, all by
+yourself."
+
+"I couldn't see anything else to do."
+
+The C.I.A. official said, "In the first place, we have no legal
+jurisdiction here and you could have caused an international stink.
+The Russkies would just love to bring something like this onto the
+Reunited Nations floor. In the second place, you failed. How in the
+world did you expect to take on that number of men, especially
+Crawford and his team?"
+
+Ostrander flushed his irritation. "Next time ..." he began.
+
+His chief waved a hand negatively. "Let's hope there isn't going to be
+next time, of this type." He took up a paper from his desk. "Here's
+your new job, Fred. You're to locate this El Hassan and keep in
+continual contact with him. If he meets with any sort of success at
+all, and frankly our agency doubts that he will, you will attempt to
+bring home to Crawford and his followers the fact that they are
+Americans, and orientate them in the direction of the West. Above all,
+you are to keep in touch with us and keep us informed on all
+developments. Especially notify us if there is any sign that our El
+Hassan is in communication with the Russkies or any other foreign
+element."
+
+"Right," Ostrander said.
+
+His chief looked at him. "We're giving you this job, Fred, because
+you're more up on it than anyone else. You're in at the beginning, so
+to speak. Now, do you want me to assign you a couple of assistants?"
+
+"White men?" Ostrander said.
+
+His higher-up scowled. "You know you're the only Negro in our agency,
+Fred."
+
+Fredric Ostrander, his voice still even, said, "That's too bad,
+because anyone you assigned me who wasn't a Negro would be a hindrance
+rather than an assistant."
+
+The other drummed his fingers on the table in irritation. He said
+suddenly, "Fred, do you think I ought to do a report to Greater
+Washington suggesting they take more Negro operatives into the
+agency?"
+
+Ostrander said dryly, "You'd better if this department is going to get
+much work done in Africa." He stood up. "I suppose that the sooner I
+get onto the job, the better. Do you have any idea at all where
+Crawford and his gang headed after they left me unconscious in that
+filthy hut?"
+
+"No, we haven't the slightest idea of where they might be, other than
+that they left your car abandoned at the Yoff airport."
+
+"Oh, great," Fredric Ostrander complained. "They've gone into hiding
+in an area somewhat twice the size of the original fifty United
+States."
+
+"Good luck," his chief said.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Rex Donaldson, formerly of Nassau in the British Bahamas, formerly of
+the College of Anthropology, Oxford, now field man for the African
+Department of the British Commonwealth working at expediting native
+development, was taking time out for needed and unwonted relaxation.
+In fact, he stretched out on his back in the most comfortable bed, in
+the most comfortable hotel, in the Niger town of Mopti. His hands
+were behind his head, and his scowling eyes were on the ceiling.
+
+He was a small, bent man, inordinately black even for the Sudan and
+the loincloth costume he wore was ludicrous in the Westernized comfort
+of the hotel room. He was attired for the bush and knew that it was
+sheer laziness now that kept him from taking off for the Dogon country
+of the Canton de Sangha where he was currently working to bring down
+tribal prejudices against the coming of the schools. He had his work
+cut out for him in the Dogon, the old men, the tribal elders they
+called Hogons, instinctively knew that the coming of education meant
+subversion of their institutions and the eventual loss of Hogon power.
+
+His portable communicator, sitting on the bedside table, buzzed and
+the little man grumbled a profanity and swung his crooked legs around
+to the floor. His eyebrows went up when he realized it was a priority
+call which probably meant from London.
+
+He flicked the reception switch and a girl's face faded onto the
+screen. She said, "A moment, Mr. Donaldson, Sir Winton wants you."
+
+"Right," Rex Donaldson said. Sir Winton, yet. Head of the African
+Department. Other than photographs, Donaldson had never seen his
+ultimate superior, not to mention speaking to him personally.
+
+The girl's face faded out and that of Sir Winton Brett-Homes faded in.
+The heavy-set, heavy-faced Englishman looked down, obviously checking
+something on his desk. He looked up again, said, "Rex Donaldson?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"I won't waste time on preliminaries, Donaldson. We've been
+discussing, here, some of the disconcerting rumors coming out of your
+section. Are you acquainted with this figure, El Hassan?"
+
+The black man's eyes widened. He said, cautiously, "I have heard a
+good many stories and rumors."
+
+"Yes, of course. They have been filtering into this office for more
+than a year. But thus far little that could be considered concrete has
+developed."
+
+Rex Donaldson held his peace, waited for the other to go on.
+
+Sir Winton said impatiently, "Actually, we are still dealing with
+rumors, but they are beginning to shape up. Evidently, this El Hassan
+has finally begun to move."
+
+"Ahhh," the wiry little field man breathed.
+
+The florid faced Englishman said, "As we understand it, he wishes to
+cut across tribal, national and geographic divisions in all North
+Africa, wishes to unite the whole area from Sudan to the
+Mediterranean."
+
+"Yes," Donaldson nodded. "That seems to be his program."
+
+Sir Winton said, "It has been decided that the interests of Her
+Majesty's government and that of the Commonwealth hardly coincide with
+such an attempt at this time. It would lead to chaos."
+
+"Ahhh," Donaldson said.
+
+Sir Winton wound it up, all but beaming. "Your instructions, then,
+are to seek out this El Hassan and combat his efforts with whatever
+means you find necessary. We consider you one of our most competent
+operatives, Donaldson."
+
+Rex Donaldson said slowly, "You mean that he is to be stopped at all
+cost?"
+
+The other cleared his throat. "You are given carte blanche, Donaldson.
+You and our other operatives in the Sahara and Sudan. Stop El Hassan."
+
+Rex Donaldson said flatly, "You have just received my resignation, Sir
+Winton."
+
+"What ... what!"
+
+"You heard me," Donaldson said.
+
+"But ... but what are you going to do?" The heavy face of the African
+Department head was going a reddish-purple, which rather fascinated
+Donaldson but he had no time to further contemplate the phenomenon.
+
+"I'm going to round up a few of my colleagues, of similar mind to my
+own, and then I'm going to join El Hassan," the little man snapped.
+"Good-bye, Sir Winton."
+
+He clicked the set off and then looked down at it. His dour face broke
+into a rare grin. "Now there's an ambition I've had for donkey's
+years," he said aloud. "To hang up on a really big mucky-muck."
+
+
+IV
+
+Following the attack of the unidentified rocketcraft, El Hassan's
+party was twice again nearly flushed by reconnoitering planes of
+unknown origin. They weren't making the time they wanted.
+
+Beneath a projecting rock face over a gravel bottomed wadi, the two
+hover-lorries were hidden, whilst a slow-moving helio-jet made
+sweeping, high-altitude circlings above them.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+The six stared glumly upward.
+
+Cliff Jackson who was on the radio called out, "I just picked him up.
+He's called in to Fort Lamy reporting no luck. His fuel's running
+short and he'll be knocking off soon."
+
+Homer Crawford rapped, "What language?"
+
+"French," Cliff said, "but it's not his. I mean he's not French, just
+using the language."
+
+Bey's face was as glum as any and there was a tic at the side of his
+mouth. He said now, "We've got to come up with something. Sooner or
+later one of them will spot us and this next time we won't have any
+fantastic breaks like Homer being able to knock him off with a
+Tommy-Noiseless. He'll drop a couple of neopalms and burn up a square
+mile of desert including El Hassan and his whole crew."
+
+Homer looked at him. "Any ideas, Bey?"
+
+"No," the other growled.
+
+Homer Crawford said, "Any of the rest of you?"
+
+Isobel was frowning, bringing something back. "Why don't we travel at
+night?"
+
+"And rest during the day?" Homer said.
+
+Kenny said, "Parking where? We just made it to this wadi. If we're
+caught out in the dunes somewhere when one of those planes shows up,
+we've had it. You couldn't hide a jackrabbit out there."
+
+But Bey and Homer Crawford were still looking at Isobel.
+
+She said, "I remember a story the Tuaregs used to tell about a raid
+some of them made back during the French occupation. They stole four
+hundred camels near Timbuktu one night and headed north. The French
+weren't worried. The next morning, they simply sent out a couple of
+aircraft to spot the Tuareg raiders and the camels. Like Kenny said,
+you couldn't hide a jackrabbit in dune country. But there was nothing
+to be seen. The French couldn't believe it, but they still weren't
+really worried. After all a camel herd can travel only thirty or so
+miles a day. So the next day the planes went out again, circling,
+circling, but they still didn't spot the thieves and their loot, nor
+the next day. Well, to shorten it, the Tuareg got their four hundred
+camels all the way up to Spanish Rio de Oro where they sold them."
+
+She had their staring attention. "How?" Elmer blurted.
+
+"It was simple. They traveled all night and then, at dawn, buried the
+camels and themselves in the sand and stayed there all day."
+
+Homer said, "I'm sold. Boys, I hope you're in physical trim because
+there's going to be quite a bit of digging for the next few days."
+
+Cliff groaned. "Some Minister of the Treasury," he complained. "They
+give him a shovel instead of a bankbook."
+
+Everyone laughed.
+
+Bey said, "Well, I suppose we stay here until nightfall."
+
+"Right," Homer said. "Whose turn is it to pull cook duty?"
+
+Isobel said menacingly, "I don't know whose turn it is, but I know I'm
+going to do the cooking. After that slumgullion Kenny whipped up
+yesterday, I'm a perpetual volunteer for the job of chef--strictly in
+self-defense."
+
+"That was a cruel cut," Kenny protested, "however, I hereby relinquish
+all my rights to cooking for this expedition."
+
+"And me!"
+
+"And me!"
+
+"O.K.," Homer said, "so Isobel is Minister of the Royal Kitchen." He
+looked at Elmer Allen. "Which reminds me. You're our junior
+theoretician. Are we a monarchy?"
+
+Elmer Allen scowled sourly and sat down, his back to the wadi wall. "I
+wouldn't think so."
+
+Isobel went off to make coffee in the portable galley in the rear of
+the second hovercraft. The others brought forth tobacco and squatted
+or sat near the dour Jamaican. Years in the desert had taught them the
+nomad's ability to relax completely given opportunity.
+
+"So if it's not a monarchy, what'll we call El Hassan?" Kenny
+demanded.
+
+Elmer said slowly, thoughtfully, "We'll call him simply _El Hassan_.
+Monarchies are of the past, and El Hassan is the voice of the future,
+something new. We won't admit he's just a latter-day tyrant, an
+opportunist seizing power because it's there crying to be seized.
+Actually, El Hassan is in the tradition of Genghis Khan, Tamerlane,
+or, more recently, Napoleon. But he's a modern version, and we're not
+going to hang the old labels on him."
+
+Isobel had brought the coffee. "I think you're right," she said.
+
+"Sold," Homer agreed. "So we aren't a monarchy. We're a tyranny." His
+face had begun by expressing amusement, but that fell off. He added,
+"As a young sociologist, I never expected to wind up a literal
+tyrant."
+
+Elmer Allen said, "Wait a minute. See if I can remember this. Comes
+from Byron." He closed his eyes and recited:
+
+    "The tyrant of the Chersonese
+       Was freedom's best and bravest friend.
+     That tyrant was Miltiades,
+       Oh that the present hour would lend
+     Another despot of the kind.
+     Such bonds as his were sure to bind."
+
+Isobel, pouring coffee, laughed and said, "Why Elmer, who'd ever dream
+you read verse, not to speak of memorizing it, you old sourpuss."
+
+Elmer Allen's complexion was too dark to register a flush.
+
+Homer Crawford said, "Yeah, Miltiades. Seized power, whipped the
+Athenians into shape to the point where they were able to take the
+Persians at Marathon, which should have been impossible." He looked
+around at the others, winding up with Elmer. "What happened to
+Miltiades after Marathon and after the emergency was over?"
+
+Elmer looked down into his coffee. "I don't remember," he lied.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+There was a clicking from the first hover-lorry, and Cliff Jackson put
+down his coffee, groaned his resentment at fate, and made his way to
+the vehicle and the radio there.
+
+Bey motioned with his head. "That's handy, our still being able to
+tune in on the broadcasts the African Development Project makes to its
+teams."
+
+Kenny said, "Not that what they've been saying is much in the way of
+flattery."
+
+Bey said, "They seem to think we're somewhere in the vicinity of Bidon
+Cinq."
+
+"That's what worries me," Homer growled. He raked his right hand back
+through his short hair. "If they think we're in Southern Algeria, what
+are these planes doing around here? We're hundreds of miles from Bidon
+Cinq."
+
+Bey shot him an oblique glance. "That's easy. That plane that tried to
+clobber us, and these others that have been trying to search us out,
+aren't really Reunited Nations craft. They're someone else."
+
+They all looked at him. "Who?" Isobel said.
+
+"How should I know? It could be almost anybody with an iron in the
+North African fire. The Soviet Complex? Very likely. The British
+Commonwealth or the French Community? Why not? There're elements in
+both that haven't really accepted giving up the old colonies and would
+like to regain them in one way or the other. The Arab Union? Why
+comment? Common Europe? Oh, Common Europe would love to have a free
+hand exploiting North Africa."
+
+"You haven't mentioned the United States of the Americas," Elmer said
+dryly. "I hope you haven't any prejudices in favor of the land of your
+adoption, Mr. Minister of War."
+
+Bey shrugged. "I just hadn't got around to her. Admittedly with the
+continued growth of the Soviet Complex and Common Europe, the States
+have slipped from the supreme position they occupied immediately
+following the Second War. The more power-happy elements are conscious
+of the ultimate value of control of Africa and doubly conscious of the
+danger of it falling into the hands of someone else. Oh, never fear,
+those planes that have been pestering us might belong to anybody at
+all."
+
+Cliff Jackson hurried back from his radio, his face anxious. "Listen,"
+he said. "That was a high priority flash, to all Reunited Nations
+teams. The Arab Union has just taken Tamanrasset. They pushed two
+columns out of Libya, evidently one from Ghat and one from further
+north near Ghademes."
+
+Homer Crawford was on his feet, alert. "Well ... why?"
+
+Cliff had what amounted to accusation on his face. "Evidently, the El
+Hassan rumors are spreading like wildfire. There've been more riots in
+Mopti, and the Reunited Nations buildings in Adrar have been stormed
+by mobs demonstrating for him. The Arab Union is moving in on the
+excuse of protecting the country against El Hassan."
+
+Kenny Ballalou groaned, "They'll have half their Arab Legion in here
+before the week's out."
+
+Cliff finished with, "The Reunited Nations is throwing a wingding.
+Everybody running around accusing and threatening, and, as per usual,
+getting nowhere."
+
+Homer Crawford's face was working in thought. He shook his head at
+Kenny. "I think you're wrong. They won't send the whole Arab Legion
+in. They'll be afraid to. They'll want to see first what everybody
+else does. They know they can't stand up to a slugging match with any
+of the really big powers. They'll stick it out for a while and watch
+developments. We have, perhaps, two weeks in which to operate."
+
+"Operate?" Cliff demanded. "What do you mean, operate?"
+
+Homer's eyes snapped to him. "I mean to recapture Tamanrasset from the
+Arab Union, seize the radio and television station there, and proclaim
+El Hassan's regime."
+
+The big Californian's eyes bugged at him. "You mean the six of us?
+There'll be ten thousand of them."
+
+"No," Homer said decisively. "Nothing like that number. Possibly a
+thousand, if that many. Logistics simply doesn't allow a greater
+number, not on such short notice. They've put a thousand or so of
+their crack troops into the town. No more."
+
+Cliff wailed, "What's the difference between a thousand and twenty
+thousand, so far as five men and a girl are concerned?"
+
+The rest were saying nothing, but following the debate.
+
+Crawford explained, not to just Cliff but to all of them. "Actually,
+the Arab Union is doing part of our job for us. They've openly
+declared that El Hassan is attempting to take over North Africa, that
+he's raising the tribes. Well, good. We didn't have the facilities to
+make the announcement ourselves. But now the whole world knows it."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"That's right," Elmer said, his face characteristically sullen. "Every
+news agency in the world is playing up the El Hassan story. In a
+matter of days, the most remote nomad encampment in the Sahara will
+know of it, one way or the other."
+
+Homer Crawford was pacing, socking his right fist into the palm of the
+left. "They've given us a rallying _raison d'etre_. These people might
+be largely Moslem, especially in the north, but they have no love for
+the Arab Union. For too long the slave raiders came down from the
+northeast. Given time, Islam might have moved in on the whole of North
+Africa. But not this way, not in military columns."
+
+He swung to Bey. "You worked over in the Teda country, before joining
+my team, and speak the Sudanic dialects. Head for there, Bey.
+Proclaim El Hassan. Organize a column. We'll rendezvous at Tamanrasset
+in exactly two weeks."
+
+Bey growled, "How am I supposed to get to Faya?"
+
+"You'll have to work that out yourself. Tonight we'll drop you near In
+Guezzam, they have one of the big solar pump, afforestation
+developments there. You should be able to, ah, requisition a truck, or
+possibly even a 'copter or aircraft. You're on your own, Bey."
+
+"Right."
+
+Homer spun to Kenny Ballalou. "You're the only one of us who gets
+along in the dialect of Hassania. Get over to Nemadi country and raise
+a column. There are no better scouts in the world. Two weeks from
+today at Tamanrasset."
+
+"Got it. Drop me off tonight with Bey, we'll work together until we
+liberate some transport."
+
+Bey said, "It might be worth while scouting in In Guezzam for a day or
+two. We might pick up a couple of El Hassan followers to help us along
+the way."
+
+"Use your judgment. Elmer!"
+
+Elmer groaned sourly, "I knew my time'd come."
+
+"Up into Chaambra country for you. Take the second lorry. You've got a
+distance to go. Try to recruit former members of the French Camel
+Corps. Promise just about anything, but only remember that one day
+we'll have to keep the promises. El Hassan can't get the label of
+phony hung on him."
+
+"Chaambra country," Elmer said. "Oh great. Arabs. I can just see what
+luck I'm going to have rousing up Arabs to fight other Arabs, and me
+with a complexion black as ..."
+
+Homer snapped at him, "They won't be following you, they'll be
+following El Hassan ... or at least the El Hassan dream. Play up the
+fact that the Arab Union is largely not of Africa but of the Middle
+East. That they're invading the country to swipe the goats and violate
+the women. Dig up all the old North African prejudices against the
+Syrians and Egyptians, and the Saudi-Arabian slave traders. You'll
+make out."
+
+Cliff said, nervously, "How about me, Homer?"
+
+Homer looked at him. Cliff Jackson, in spite of his fabulous build,
+hadn't a fighting man's background.
+
+Homer grinned and said, "You'll work with me. We're going into Tuareg
+country. Whenever occasion calls for it, whip off that shirt and go
+strolling around with that overgrown chest of yours stuck out. The
+Tuareg consider themselves the best physical specimens in the Sahara,
+which they are. They admire masculine physique. You'll wow them."
+
+Cliff grumbled, "Sounds like vaudeville."
+
+Isobel said softly, "And me, El Hassan? What do I do?"
+
+Homer turned to her. "You're also part of headquarters staff. The
+Tuareg women aren't dominated by their men. They still have a strong
+element of descent in the matrilinear line and women aren't
+second-class citizens. You'll work on pressuring them. Do you speak
+Tamaheq?"
+
+"Of course."
+
+Homer Crawford looked up into the sky, swept it. The day was rapidly
+coming to an end and nowhere does day become night so quickly as in
+the ergs of the Sahara.
+
+"Let's get underway," Crawford said. "Time's a wastin'."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The range of the Ahaggar Tuareg was once known, under French
+administration, as the Annexe du Hoggar, and was the most difficult
+area ever subdued by French arms--if it was ever subdued. At the
+battle of Tit on May 7, 1902 the Camel Corps, under Cottenest, broke
+the combined military power of the Tuareg confederations, but this
+meant no more than that the tribes and clans carried on nomadic
+warfare in smaller units.
+
+The Ahaggar covers roughly an area the size of Pennsylvania, New York,
+Virginia and Maryland combined, and supports a population of possibly
+twelve thousand, which includes about forty-five hundred Tuareg, four
+thousand Negro serf-slaves, and some thirty-five hundred scorned
+sedentary Haratin workers. The balance of the population consists of a
+handful of Enaden smiths and a small number of Arab shopkeepers in the
+largest of the sedentary centers. Europeans and other whites are all
+but unknown.
+
+It is the end of the world.
+
+Contrary to Hollywood-inspired belief, the Sahara does not consist
+principally of sand dunes, although these, too, are present, and all
+but impassable even to camels. Traffic, through the millennia, has
+held to the endless stretches of gravelly plains and the rock ribbed
+plateaus which cover most of the desert. The great sandy wastes or
+ergs cover roughly a fifth of the entire Sahara, and possibly two
+thirds of this area consists of the rolling sandy plains dotted
+occasionally with dunes. The remaining third, or about one fifteenth
+of the total Sahara, is characterized by the dune formations of
+popular imagination.
+
+It was through this latter area that Homer Crawford, now with but one
+hover-lorry, and accompanied by Isobel Cunningham and Clifford
+Jackson, was heading.
+
+For although the spectacular major dune formations of the Great Erg
+have defied wheeled vehicles since the era of the Carthaginian
+chariots, and even the desert born camel limits his daily travel in
+them to but a few miles, the modern hovercraft, atop its air cushion
+jets, finds them of only passing difficulty to traverse. And the
+hovercraft leaves no trail.
+
+Cliff Jackson scowled out at the identical scenery. Identical for more
+than two hundred miles. For twice that distance, they had seen no
+other life. No animal, no bird, not a sprig of cactus. This was the
+Great Erg.
+
+He muttered, "This country is so dry even the morning dew is
+dehydrated."
+
+Isobel laughed--she, too, had never experienced this country before.
+"Why, Cliff, you made a funny!"
+
+They were sitting three across in the front seat, with Homer Crawford
+at the wheel, and now all three were dressed in the costume of the Kel
+Rela tribe of the Ahaggar Tuareg confederation. In the back of the
+lorry were the jerry-cans of water and the supplies that meant the
+difference between life and mummification from sun and heat.
+
+Cliff turned suddenly to the driver. "Why here?" he said bitterly.
+"Why pick this for a base of operations? Why not Mopti? Ten thousand
+Sudanese demonstrated for El Hassan there less than two weeks ago.
+You'd have them in the palm of your hand."
+
+Homer didn't look up from his work at wheel, lift and acceleration
+levers. To achieve maximum speed over the dunes, you worked constantly
+at directing motion not only horizontally but vertically.
+
+He said, "And the twenty and one enemies of the El Hassan movement
+would have had us in their palms. Our followers in Mopti can take care
+of themselves. If this movement is ever going to be worth anything,
+the local characters are going to have to get into the act. The
+current big thing is not to allow El Hassan and his immediate troupe
+to be eliminated before full activities can get under way. For the
+present, we're hiding out until we can gather forces enough to free
+Tamanrasset."
+
+"Hiding out is right," Cliff snorted. "I have a sneaking suspicion
+that not only will they never find us, but we'll never find them
+again."
+
+Homer laughed. "As a matter of fact, we're not so far right now from
+Silet where there's a certain amount of water--if you dig for it--and
+a certain amount of the yellowish grass and woody shrubs that the
+bedouin depend on. With luck, we'll find the Amenokal of the Tuareg
+there."
+
+"Amenokal?"
+
+"Paramount chief of the Ahaggar Tuaregs."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The dunes began to fall away and with the butt of his left hand
+Crawford struck the acceleration lever. He could make more time now
+when less of his attention was drawn to the ups and downs of erg
+travel.
+
+Patches of thorny bush began to appear, and after a time a small herd
+of gazelle were flushed and high tailed their way over the horizon.
+
+Isobel said, "Who is this Amenokal you mentioned?"
+
+"These are the real Tuareg, the comparatively untouched. They've got
+three tribes, the Kel Rela, the Tegehe Mellet and the Taitoq, each
+headed by a warrior clan which gives its name to the tribe as a whole.
+The chief of the Kel Rela clan is also chief of the Kel Rela tribe and
+automatically paramount chief, or Amenokal, of the whole
+confederation. His name is Melchizedek."
+
+"Do you think you can win him over?" Isobel said.
+
+"He's a smart old boy. I had some dealings with him over a year ago.
+Gave him a TV set in the way of a present, hoping he'd tune in on some
+of our Reunited Nations propaganda. He's probably the most
+conservative of the Tuareg leaders."
+
+Her eyebrows went up. "And you expect to bring him around to the most
+liberal scheme to hit North Africa since Hannibal?"
+
+He looked at her from the side of his eyes and grinned. "Remember
+Roosevelt, the American president?"
+
+"Hardly."
+
+"Well, you've read about him. He came into office at a time when the
+country was going to economic pot by the minute. Some of the measures
+he and his so-called brain trust took were immediately hailed by his
+enemies as socialistic. In answer, Roosevelt told them that in times
+of social stress the true conservative is a liberal, since to
+preserve, you have to reform. If Roosevelt hadn't done the things he
+did, back in the 1930s, you probably would have seen some _real_
+changes in the American socio-economic system. Roosevelt didn't
+undermine the social system of the time, he preserved it."
+
+"Then, according to you, Roosevelt was a conservative," she said
+mockingly.
+
+Crawford laughed. "I'll go even further," he said. "When social
+changes are pending and for whatever reason are not brought about,
+then reaction is the inevitable alternative. At such a time then--when
+sweeping socio-economic change is called for--any reform measures
+proposed are concealed measures of reaction, since they tend to
+maintain the _status quo_."
+
+"Holy Mackerel," Cliff protested. "Accept that and Roosevelt was not
+only not a liberal, but a reactionary. Stop tearing down my childhood
+heroes."
+
+Isobel said, "Let's get back to this Amenokal guy. You think he's
+smart enough to see his only chance is in going along with ..."
+
+Homer Crawford pointed ahead and a little to the right. "We'll soon
+find out. This is a favorite encampment of his. With luck, he'll be
+there. If we can win him over, we've come a long way."
+
+"And if we can't?" Isobel said, her eyebrows raised again.
+
+"Then it's unfortunate that there are only three of us," Homer said
+simply, without looking at her.
+
+There were possibly no more than a hundred Tuareg in all in the nomad
+encampment of goat leather tents when the solar powered hovercraft
+drew up.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+When the air cushion vehicle stopped before the largest tent, Crawford
+said beneath his breath, "The Amenokal is here, all right. Cliff,
+watch your teguelmoust. If any of these people see more than your
+eyes, your standing has dropped to a contemptible zero."
+
+The husky Californian secured the lightweight cotton, combination veil
+and turban well up over his face. Earlier, Crawford had shown him how
+to wind the ten-foot long, indigo-blue cloth around the head and
+features.
+
+Isobel, of course, was unveiled, Tuareg fashion, and wore baggy
+trousers of black cotton held in place with a braided leather cord by
+way of drawstring and a gandoura upper-garment consisting of a huge
+rectangle of cloth some seven to eight feet square and folded over on
+itself with the free corners sewed together so as to leave bottom and
+most of both sides open. A V-shaped opening for her head and neck was
+cut out of a fold at the top, and a large patch had been sewed inside
+to make a pocket beneath her left breast. She wasn't exactly a
+Parisian fashion plate.
+
+Even as they stepped down from the hovercraft, immediately after it
+had drifted to rest on the ground, an elderly man came from the tent
+entrance.
+
+He looked at them for a moment, then rested his eyes exclusively on
+Homer Crawford.
+
+"_La Bas_, El Hassan," he said through the cloth that covered his
+mouth.
+
+Homer Crawford was taken aback, but covered the fact. "There is no
+evil," he repeated the traditional greeting. "But why do you name me
+El Hassan?"
+
+A dozen veiled desert men, all with the Tuareg sword, several with
+modern rifles, had formed behind the Tuareg chief.
+
+Melchizedek made a movement of hand to mouth, in a universal gesture
+of amusement. "Ah, El Hassan," he said, "you forget you left me the
+magical instrument of the Roumi."
+
+Crawford was mystified, but he stood in silence. What the Tuareg
+paramount chief said now made considerable difference. As he recalled
+his former encounter with the Ahaggar leader, the other had been
+neither friendly nor antagonistic to the Reunited Nations team
+Crawford had headed in their role as itinerant desert smiths.
+
+The Amenokal said, "Enter then my tent, El Hassan, and meet my
+chieftains. We would confer with you."
+
+The first obstacle was cleared. Subduing a sigh of relief, Homer
+Crawford turned to Cliff. "This, O Amenokal of all the Ahaggar, is
+Clif ben Jackson, my Vizier of Finance."
+
+The Amenokal bowed his head slightly, said, "_La Bas_."
+
+Cliff could go that far in the Tuareg tongue. He said, "_La Bas_."
+
+The Amenokal said, looking at Isobel, "I hear that in the lands of the
+Roumi women are permitted in the higher councils."
+
+Homer said steadily, "This I have also been amazed to hear. However,
+it is fitting that my followers remain here while El Hassan discusses
+matters of the highest importance with the Amenokal and his
+chieftains. This is the Sitt Izubahil, high in the councils of her
+people due to the great knowledge she has gained by attending the new
+schools which dispense rare wisdom, as all men know."
+
+The Amenokal courteously said, "_La Bas_," but Isobel held her peace
+in decency amongst men of chieftain rank.
+
+When Homer and the Tuaregs had disappeared into the tent, she said to
+Cliff, "Stick by the car, I'm going to circulate among the women.
+Women are women everywhere. I'll pick up the gossip, possibly get
+something Homer will miss in there."
+
+A group of Tuareg women and children, the latter stark naked, had
+gathered to gape at the strangers. Isobel moved toward them, began
+immediately breaking the ice.
+
+Under his breath, Cliff muttered, "What a gal. Give her a few hours
+and she'll form a Lady's Aid branch, or a bridge club, and where else
+is El Hassan going to pick up so much inside information?"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The tent, which was of the highly considered mouflon skins, was
+mounted on a wooden frame which consisted of two uprights with a
+horizontal member laid across their tops. The tent covering was
+stretched over this framework with its back and sides pegged down and
+the front, which faced south, was left open. It was ten feet deep,
+fifteen feet wide and five feet high in the middle.
+
+The men entered and filed to the right of the structure where
+sheepskins and rugs provided seating. The women and children, who
+abided ordinarily to the left side, had vanished for this gathering of
+the great.
+
+They sat for a time and sipped at green tea, syrup sweet with mint and
+sugar, the tiny cups held under the teguelmoust so as not to obscenely
+reveal the mouth of the drinker.
+
+Finally, Homer Crawford said, "You spoke of the magical instrument of
+the Roumi which I gave you as gift, O Amenokal, and named me El
+Hassan."
+
+Several of the Tuareg chuckled beneath their veils but Crawford could
+read neither warmth nor antagonism in their amusement.
+
+The elderly Melchizedek nodded. "At first we were bewildered, O El
+Hassan, but then my sister's son, Guemama, fated perhaps one day to
+become chief of the Kel Rela and Amenokal of all the Ahaggar, recalled
+the tales told by the storytellers at the fire in the long evenings."
+
+Crawford looked at him politely.
+
+Melchizedek's laugh was gentle. "But each man has heard, in his time,
+O El Hassan, of the ancient Calif Haroun El Raschid of Baghdad."
+
+Crawford's mind went into high gear, as the story began to come back
+to him. From second into high gear, and he could have blessed these
+bedouin for handing him a piece of publicity gobblydygook worthy of
+Fifth Avenue's top agency.
+
+He held up a hand as though in amusement at being discovered.
+"Wallahi, O Amenokal, you have discovered my secret. For many months I
+have crossed the deserts disguised as a common Enaden smith to seek
+out all the people and to learn their wishes and their needs."
+
+"Even as Haroun el Raschid in the far past," one of the subchiefs
+muttered in satisfaction, "used to disguise himself as a lowborn
+dragoman and wander the streets of Baghdad."
+
+"But how did you recognize me?" Homer said.
+
+The Amenokal said in reproof, "But verily, your name is on all lips.
+The Roumi have branded you common criminal. You are to be seized on
+sight and great reward will be given he who delivers you to the
+authorities." He spoke without inflection, and Crawford could read
+neither support nor animosity--nor greed for the reward offered by El
+Hassan's enemies. He gathered the impression that the Tuareg chief was
+playing his cards close to his chest.
+
+"And what else do they say?"
+
+The elderly Melchizedek went on slowly, "They say that El Hassan is in
+truth a renegade citizen of a far away Roumi land and that he attempts
+to build a great confederation in North Africa for his own gain."
+
+One of the others chuckled and said, "The Roumi on the magical
+instrument are indeed great liars as all can see."
+
+Homer looked at him questioningly.
+
+The other said, laughing, "Who has ever heard of a black Roumi? And
+you, O El Hassan, are as black as a Bela."
+
+The Amenokal finished off the mystery of Crawford's recognition.
+"Know, El Hassan, that whilst you were here before, one of the slaves
+that served you for pay shamelessly looked upon your face in the
+privacy of your tent. It was this slave who recognized your face when
+the Roumi presented it on the magic instrument, calling upon all men
+to see you and to brand you enemy."
+
+So that was it. The Reunited Nations, and probably all the rest, had
+used their radio and TV stations to broadcast a warning and offer a
+reward for Homer and his followers. Old Sven was losing no time. This
+wasn't so good. A Tuareg owes allegiance to no one beyond clan, tribe
+and confederation. All others are outside the pale and any advantage,
+monetary or otherwise, to be gained by exploiting a stranger is well
+within desert mores.
+
+He might as well bring it to the point. Crawford said evenly, "And I
+have entered your camp alone except for two followers. Your people are
+many. So why, O Amenokal, have you not seized me for the reward the
+Roumi offer?"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+There was a moment of silence and Homer Crawford sensed that the
+sub-chieftains had leaned forward in anticipation, waiting for their
+leader's words. Possibly they, too, could not understand.
+
+The Tuareg leader finished his tea.
+
+"Because, El Hassan, we yet have not heard the message which the Roumi
+are so anxious that you not be allowed to bring the men of the desert.
+The Roumi are great liars, and great thieves, as each man knows. In
+the memory of those still living, they have stolen of the bedouin and
+robbed him of land and wealth. So now we would hear of what you say,
+before we decide."
+
+"Spoken like a true Amenokal, a veritable Suliman ben Davud," Homer
+said with a heartiness he could only partly feel. At least they were
+open to persuasion.
+
+For a long moment he stared down at the rug upon which they sat, as
+though deep in contemplation.
+
+"These words I speak will be truly difficult to hear and accept, O men
+of the veil," he said at last. "For I speak of great change, and no
+man loves change in the way of his life."
+
+"Speak, El Hassan," Melchizedek said flatly. "Great change is
+everywhere upon us, as each man knows, and none can tell how to
+maintain the ways of our fathers."
+
+"We can fight," one of the younger men growled.
+
+The Amenokal turned to him and grunted scorn. "And would you fight
+against the weapons of the djinn and afrit, O Guemama? Know that in my
+youth I was distant witness to the explosion of a great weapon which
+the accursed Franzawi discharged south of Reggan. Know, that this
+single explosion, my sister's son, could with ease have destroyed the
+total of all the tribesmen of the Ahaggar, had they been gathered."
+
+"And the Roumi have many such weapons," Crawford added gently.
+
+The eyes of the tribal headmen came back to him.
+
+"As each man knows," Crawford continued, "change is upon the world. No
+matter how strongly one wills to continue the traditions of his
+fathers, change is upon us all. And he who would press against the
+sand storm, rather than drifting with it, lasts not long."
+
+One of the subchiefs growled, "We Tuareg love not change, El Hassan."
+
+Crawford turned to him. "That is why I and my viziers have spent long
+hours in _ekhwan_, in great council, devoted to the problems of the
+Tuareg and how they can best fit into the new Africa that everywhere
+awakes."
+
+They stirred in interest now. The Tuareg, once the Scourge of the
+Sahara, the Sons of Shaitan and the Forgotten of Allah, to the Arab,
+Teda, Moroccan and other fellow inhabitants of North Africa, were of
+recent decades developing a tribal complex. Robbed of their
+nomadic-bandit way of life by first the French Camel Corps and later
+by the efforts of the Reunited Nations, they were rapidly descending
+into a condition of poverty and defensive bewilderment. Not only were
+large numbers of former bedouin drifting to the area's sedentary
+centers, an act beyond contempt within the memory of the elders, but
+the best elements of the clans were often deserting Tuareg country
+completely and defecting to the new industrial centers, the dam
+projects, the afforestation projects, the new oases irrigated with the
+solar-powered pumps.
+
+"Speak, El Hassan," the Amenokal ordered. And unconsciously, he, too,
+leaned forward, as did his subchiefs. The Ahaggar Tuareg were reaching
+for straws, unconsciously seeking shoulders upon which to lay their
+unsolvable problems.
+
+"Let me, O chiefs of the Tuareg, tell of a once strong tribe of
+warriors and nomads who lived in the far country in which I was born,"
+Crawford said. The desert man loves a story, a parable, a tale of the
+strong men of yesteryear.
+
+Melchizedek clapped his hands in summons and when a slave appeared,
+called for _narghileh_ water pipes. When all had been supplied, they
+relaxed, bits in mouths and looked again at Homer Crawford.
+
+"They were called," he intoned, "the Cheyenne. The Northern Cheyenne,
+for they had a sister tribe to the South. And on all the plains of
+this great land, a land, verily, as large as all that over which the
+Tuareg confederations now roam, they were the greatest huntsmen, the
+greatest warriors. All feared them. They were the lords of all."
+
+"Ai," breathed one of the older men. "As were the Tuareg before the
+coming of the cursed Franzawi and the other Nazrani."
+
+"But in time," Crawford pursued, "came the new ways to the plains, and
+these men who lived largely by the chase began to see the lands fenced
+in for farmers, began to see large cities erected on what were once
+tribal areas, and to see the iron railroads of the new ways begin to
+spread out over the whole of the territory which once was roamed only
+by the Cheyennes and such nomadic tribes."
+
+"Ai," a muffled mouth ejected.
+
+Homer Crawford looked at the younger Targui, Guemama, the Amenokal's
+nephew. "And so," he said, "they fought."
+
+"Wallahi!" Guemama breathed.
+
+Homer Crawford looked about the circle. "Never has tribe fought as did
+the Cheyenne. Never has the world seen such warriors, with the
+exception, of course, of the Ahaggar Tuareg. Never were such raids,
+never such bravery, never such heroic deeds as were performed by the
+warriors of the Cheyennes and their women, and their old people and
+their children. Over and over they defeated the cavalry and the
+infantry of the newcomers who would change the old ways and bring the
+new to the lands of the Cheyennes."
+
+The bedouin were staring in fascination, their water pipes forgotten.
+
+"And then...?" the Amenokal demanded.
+
+"The new ways taught the enemy how to make guns, and artillery, and
+finally Gatling guns, which today we call machine guns. And once a
+brave warrior might prevail against a common man armed with the
+weapons of the new ways, and even twice he might. But the numbers of
+the followers of the new ways are as the sands of the Great Erg and in
+time bravery means nothing."
+
+"It is even so," someone growled. "They are as the sands of the erg,
+and they have the weapons of the djinn, as each man knows."
+
+"And what happened in the end, O El Hassan?"
+
+His eyes swept them all. "They perished," Homer said. "Today in all
+the land where once the Cheyenne pursued the game there is but a
+handful of the tribe alive. And they have become nothing people, no
+longer warriors, no longer nomads, and they are scorned by all for
+they are poor, poor, poor. Poor in mind and spirits, and in property
+and they have not been able to adjust to the ways of the new world."
+
+Air went out of the lungs of the assembled Tuareg.
+
+The Amenokal looked at him. "This is verily the truth, El Hassan?"
+
+"My head upon it," Crawford said.
+
+"And why do you tell us of these Cheyenne, these great warriors of the
+plains of the land of your birth? The story fails to bring joy to
+hearts already heavy with the troubles of the Tuareg."
+
+It was time to play the joker.
+
+Crawford said carefully, "Because there was no need, O Amenokal of all
+the Ahaggar, for the Cheyenne to disappear before the sandstorm of the
+future. They could have ridden before it and today occupy a position
+of honor and affluence in their former land."
+
+They stared at him.
+
+"And give up the old ways?" Guemama demanded. "Become no longer
+nomads, no longer honorable warriors, but serfs, slaves, working with
+one's hands upon the land and with the oil-dirty machines of the
+Roumi?"
+
+The chiefs muttered angrily.
+
+Crawford said hurriedly, "No! Never! In our great conferences, my
+viziers and I decided that the Tuareg could never so change. The
+Tuareg must die, as did the Northern Cheyenne before he would become a
+city dweller, a worker of the land."
+
+"Bismillah!" someone muttered.
+
+"Too often," Crawford explained, "do the bringers of these things of
+the future, be they Roumi or others, fail to utilize the potential
+services of the people of the lands they over-sweep."
+
+"I do not understand you, El Hassan," Melchizedek grumbled. "There is
+no room for the Tuareg in this new world of bringing trees to the
+desert, of the great trucks which speed across the erg a score of time
+the pace of a _hejin_ racing camel, of larger and ever larger oases
+with their great towns, their schools, their new industries. If the
+Tuareg remains Tuareg, he cannot fit into this new world, it destroys
+the old traditions, the old way which is the Tuareg way."
+
+Homer Crawford now turned on the pressure. His voice took on overtones
+of the positive, his personality seemed to reach out and seize them,
+and even his physical stature seemed to grow.
+
+"Some indeed of the ways of the bedouin must go," he entoned, "but the
+Tuareg will survive under my leadership. A people who have throve a
+millennium and more in the great wastes of the Sahara have strong
+survival characteristics and will blossom, not die, in my new world.
+Know, O Melchizedek, that it has been decided that the Ahaggar Tuareg
+will be the heart of my Desert Legion. In times of conflict, armed
+with the new arms, and riding the new vehicles, they will adapt their
+old methods of warfare to this new age. In times of peace they will
+patrol the new forests, watching for fire and other disaster, they
+will become herdsmen of the new herds and be the police and rescue
+forces of this wide area. As the Cheyennes of the olden times of the
+land of my birth could have become herdsmen and forest rangers and
+have performed similar tasks had they been shown the way."
+
+Homer Crawford let his eyes go from one of them to the next, and his
+personality continued to dominate them.
+
+The Amenokal ran his thin, aged hand through the length of his white
+beard beneath his teguelmoust and contemplated this stranger come out
+of the ergs to lead his people to still greater changes than those
+they had thus far rebelled against.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Crawford realized that the Targui was divided in opinion and inwardly
+the American was in a cold sweat. But his voice registered only
+supreme confidence. "Under my banner, all North Africa will be welded
+into one. And all the products of the land will be available in
+profusion to my faithful followers. The finest wheat for cous cous
+from Algeria and Tunis, the finest dates and fruits from the oases to
+the north, the manufactured products of the factories of Dakar and
+Casablanca. For Africa has always been a poor land but will become a
+rich one with the new machines and techniques that I will bring."
+
+The Amenokal raised a hand to stem the tide of oratory. "And what do
+you ask of us now, El Hassan?"
+
+Instead of to the older man, Crawford turned his eyes to the face of
+Guemama, the leader of the young clansmen. "Now my people are
+gathering to establish the new rule. Teda from the east, Chaambra from
+the north, Sudanese from the south, Nemadi, Moors and Rifs from the
+west. We rendezvous in ten days from now at Tamanrasset where the Arab
+Legion dogs have seized the city as they wish to seize all the lands
+of the Sahara and Sudan for the corrupt Arab Union politicians."
+
+Crawford came to his feet. His voice took on an edge of command. "You
+will address your scouts and warriors and each will ride off on the
+swiftest camels at your command to raise the Tuareg tribes. And the
+clans of the Kel Rela will unite with the Taitoq and the Tegehe Mellet
+in a great harka at this point and we will ride together to sweep the
+Arab Legion from the lands of El Hassan."
+
+Guemama was on his feet, too. "Bilhana!" he roared. "With joy."
+
+The others were arising in excitement, all but Melchizedek, who still
+stroked his gray streaked beard beneath his teguelmoust. The Amenokal
+had seen much of desert war in his day and knew the horror of the new
+weapons possessed by the crack troops of the Arab Legion.
+
+But his aged shoulders shrugged against the inevitable.
+
+Crawford said, the ring of authority in his voice. "What does the
+Amenokal of all the Ahaggar say?" He had no intention of antagonizing
+the Tuareg chief by going over his head and directly to the people.
+
+"Thou art El Hassan," Melchizedek said, his voice low, "and
+undoubtedly it is fated that the Tuareg follow you, for verily there
+is no way else to go, as each man knows."
+
+"Wallahi!" Guemama crowed jubilantly.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+V
+
+Guemama, nephew of Melchizedek the Amenokal of the Ahaggar Tuareg
+confederation and fighting chief of the Kel Rela clan of the Kel Rela
+tribe, brought his Hejin racing camel to an abrupt halt with a smack
+of his mish'ab camel stick. He barked, "_Adar-ya-yan_," in command to
+bring it to its knees, and slid to the ground before his mount had
+groaned its rocking way to the sand.
+
+The Tarqui was jubilant. His dark eyes sparked above his teguelmoust
+veil and he presented himself before Homer Crawford with the elan of a
+Napoleonic cavalryman before his emperor. Were red leather fil fil
+boots capable of producing a clicking of heels, that sound would have
+rung.
+
+Crawford said with dignity, "Aselamu, Aleikum, Guemama. Greeting to
+you."
+
+"Salaam Aleikum," the tribesman got out breathlessly. "Your message
+spreads, O El Hassan. My men ride to eastward and westward and never a
+tent from here to Silet, from In Guezzam to Timissao but knows that El
+Hassan calls. The Taitoq and the Tegehe Mellet ride!"
+
+Homer Crawford was standing before the hovercraft. The Amenokal's
+tribesmen had set up two large goat leather tents for his use and the
+three Americans had largely withdrawn to their shelter. Crawford was
+aware of the dangers of familiarity.
+
+Cliff Jackson, who as usual had been monitoring the radio, came from
+the hover-lorry and growled, "What's he saying?"
+
+"The tribesmen are gathering as per instructions," Homer said in
+English.
+
+Jackson grunted, somewhat self-conscious of the Targui's admiring
+gaze. The Tuareg is the handsomest physical specimen of North Africa,
+often going to six foot of wiry manhood, but there was nothing in all
+the Sahara to rival the build of Homer Crawford, not to speak of the
+giant Cliff Jackson.
+
+Crawford turned back to the Tuareg chieftain. "You please me well, O
+Guemama. Know that I have been in conference with my viziers on the
+Roumi device which enables one to speak great distances and that we
+have decided that you are to head all the fighting clans of the
+Ahaggar, and that you will ride at the left hand of El Hassan, as
+shield on shoulder rides."
+
+The Targui, overwhelmed, made adequate pledges of fidelity, flowering
+words of thanks, and then hurried off to inform his fellow tribesmen
+of his appointment.
+
+Isobel emerged from her tent. She looked at Homer obliquely, the sides
+of her mouth turning down. "As shield on shoulder rides," she
+translated from the Tamaheq Berber tongue into English. "Hm-m-m." She
+cast her eyes upward in memory. "You aren't plagiarizing Kipling, are
+you?"
+
+Crawford grinned at her. "These people like a well turned phrase."
+
+"And who could turn them better than Rudyard?" she said. Her voice
+dropped the bantering tone. "What's this bit about making Guemama
+war-chief of the Tuareg? Isn't he on the young and enthusiastic
+side?"
+
+Cliff scowled. "You mean that youngster? Why he can't be more than in
+his early twenties."
+
+Crawford was looking after the young Targui who was disappearing into
+his uncle's tent on the far side of the rapidly growing encampment.
+
+"You mean the age of Napoleon in the Italian campaign, or Alexander at
+Issus?" he asked. Isobel began to respond to that, but he shook his
+head. "He's the Amenokal's nephew, and traditionally would probably
+get the position anyway. He's the most popular of the young tribesmen,
+and it's going to be they who do the fighting. Having the appointment
+come from El Hassan, and at this early point, will just bind him
+closer. Besides that, he's a natural born warrior. Typical.
+Enthusiastic, bold, brave and with the military mind."
+
+"What's a military mind?" Cliff said.
+
+"He can take off his shirt without unbuttoning his collar," Homer told
+him.
+
+"Very funny," Cliff grumbled.
+
+Isobel turned to the big Californian. "What's on the radio, Cliff?"
+
+"Let's go get a cup of coffee," he said. "All hellzapoppin."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+They went into the larger of the two Tuareg tents, and Isobel poured
+water from a girba into the coffee pot which she placed on a heat
+unit, flicking its switch. She said sarcastically, from the side of
+her mouth, "A message, O El Hassan, from the Department of Logistics,
+subdepartment Commissary of Headquarters of the Commander in Chief.
+Unless you get around to capturing some supplies in the near future,
+your food is going to be prepared over a camel dung fire. This heat
+unit is fading out on me."
+
+"Don't bother me with trivialities," Homer told her. "I've got _big_
+things on my mind."
+
+She looked at him suspiciously. "Hm-m-m. Such as what?"
+
+"Such as whether to put my face on the postage stamps profile or
+full."
+
+She said, under her breath, "I shoulda known. Already, delusions of
+grandeur."
+
+"Holy Mackerel," Cliff protested. "Aren't we ever serious around this
+place? You two will wind up gagging with the firing squad."
+
+Crawford chuckled softly but let his face go serious. "Sorry, Cliff.
+What's on your mind?"
+
+Cliff said impatiently, "From the radio reports, the Arab Union is
+consolidating its position. El Hassan is being discredited by the
+minute. Your followers were in control for a time in Mopti and Bamako,
+but they're falling away because of lack of direction. The best way I
+can put reports together, the Reunited Nations is in complete
+confusion. Everybody accusing everybody of double-dealing."
+
+Isobel said dryly, "Any other good news?"
+
+Cliff said glumly, "Rumors, rumors, rumors. Half the marabouts in
+North Africa are proclaiming a jihad in support of the Pan-Islam
+program of the Arab Union. Listen, Homer, we've got to get the
+backing of the Moslem leaders."
+
+Homer Crawford grunted. "We need Islam in this part of the world like
+we need a hole in the head. That's one of the things already wrong
+with North Africa."
+
+"What's wrong with Islam? It was probably the most dynamic religion
+ever to sweep the world."
+
+"_Was_ is right," Crawford growled, now on one of his favorite peeve
+subjects. "The Moslem religion exploded out of Arabia with some new
+concepts that set the world in ferment from India to Southern France.
+For all practical purposes Islam _invented_ science. Sure, the Greeks
+had logic and the Romans had engineering--without applying the
+Greek-style logic. But the Arabs amalgamated the two concepts to yield
+experimental science. They were able to take the intellectual products
+of a dozen cultures and wield them into one. For a hundred years or so
+it looked as though they had something."
+
+When he hesitated for a moment, Isobel said, questioningly, "And ..."
+
+"And they couldn't get away from that Q'ran of theirs. They took it
+seriously. They started off in their big universities, such as those
+at Fez, being the greatest scientists and scholars the world had ever
+seen. But the fundamentalists won out, and in a couple of hundred
+years the only thing being taught at Fez was the Q'ran. To even
+suggest that all necessary information isn't contained therein, is
+enough to have you clobbered. Islam became the most reactionary force
+to suppress progress in the civilized world. In fact, by this period
+in world history, we don't even think of the Moslem world as
+particularly civilized."
+
+Cliff said defensively, "The Bible doesn't encourage original thinking
+either. A fundamentalist ..."
+
+"Sure," Crawford interrupted. "Those elements who take the Bible the
+way Islam took the Q'ran wind up in the same rut. But _as a whole_,
+Europe was sparked enough by the original Islamic explosion that the
+Renaissance resulted, with what world results we all know. Be ..."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+There was a roar of confusion outside. A blasting of guns, a shrieking
+of _Ul-Ul-Ul-Allah Akbar!_
+
+Crawford came to his feet unhappily. "Another contingent of Tuareg,"
+he said. "I'll have to give them a quick welcoming to the colors
+speech."
+
+The guns outside continued their booming.
+
+"Confound it," he growled, "I wish I could break them of that habit of
+blasting away their ammunition. They'll have better targets before the
+week is out."
+
+He pushed open the tent flap and, followed by Isobel and Cliff,
+emerged into the stretch of clearing between his tents and the
+hovercraft, and the growing Tuareg encampment. His diagnosis had been
+correct. A contingent of possibly two score Tuareg camelmen had come
+a-galloping up, shaking rifles above their heads in a small scale
+gymhana, or fantasia as the Moors called them.
+
+"At least it's a larger group than usual," Cliff said from behind.
+"But at this rate, it'll still take a month for us to equal the Arab
+Legion in Tamanrasset." He added in disgust, "And look at this bunch
+of ragamuffins. Half of them are carrying muzzleloaders."
+
+The booming muskets and the cracking rifles suddenly began to fall off
+in intensity and the camelmen and the hordes of Tuareg women and naked
+children who had swarmed from the tents to greet them were falling
+silent. Here and there a hand pointed upward.
+
+Homer, Cliff and Isobel swung their own eyes up to the sky in dreaded
+anticipation. The hover-lorry was camouflaged to blend in with the
+sands and rock outcroppings of this area, but it was possible that an
+aircraft might have determined that this was El Hassan's base,
+possibly through some act of a traitor, in which case ...
+
+They found the spot in the sky that the tribesmen were pointing out.
+It seemed to move slowly for a military craft, but for that matter it
+might be a helio-jet and considerably more dangerous, so far as they
+being spotted was concerned, than a fast moving fighter.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+Guemama, was barking to his men to take cover. Two days before
+Crawford had checked out several of the more bright-eyed on the flac
+rifle and now three of them ran to where it was set up at a high
+point.
+
+But hardly had the confused milling got under way than it fell off
+again. Movement stopped, and the Tuareg faced the approaching dot in
+the sky.
+
+"Djinn...!"
+
+"Afrit...!"
+
+Cliff had darted back into the tent, now he emerged with binoculars.
+
+"What the devil is it?" Crawford snapped. Desert trained eyes were
+evidently considerably more effective than his own. He couldn't see
+what the tribesmen were gaping at.
+
+"It's the smallest heliohopper _I've_ ever seen," Cliff snorted. "It's
+so small practically all you can see are the rotors and the passenger.
+He doesn't even look as though he's got a seat."
+
+Guemama came hurrying up, his eyes wide beneath his teguelmoust. "El
+Hassan! A witchman ... come out of the sky!"
+
+Homer said evenly, "It is nothing. Only post men ready to obey my
+commands."
+
+Guemama hesitated as though to waver out another protest, but then
+spun and hurried off--military-like, glad to have an order to obey to
+keep his mind from the impossible.
+
+"I'm beginning to have a sneaking suspicion--" Crawford began without
+finishing. "Come on Isobel, Cliff. We're going to have to make the
+most of this."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Rex Donaldson, ex-field man for the African Department of the British
+Commonwealth, dropped the lift lever of his heliohopper and settled to
+the ground immediately before Homer Crawford who stood there flanked
+by Isobel Cunningham and Cliff Jackson. Further back and in the form
+of a crescent were possibly two or three hundred Tuareg of all ages
+and both sexes.
+
+Donaldson, in the garb of a Dogan juju man consisting of little more
+than a wisp of cloth about his loins, played it straight, not knowing
+the setup. On the face of it, he had just flown out of the sky
+_personally_. The size of his equipment so small as to be all but
+meaningless.
+
+He unstrapped himself from the thin, bicyclelike seat, and,
+expressionlessly, folded the rotors of his tiny craft back over
+themselves and the engine, collapsed the whole thing into a manageable
+packet of some seventy-five pounds, the seat now becoming a handle,
+and then turned and faced Crawford.
+
+Donaldson screwed his wizened face into an expression of respect and
+made a motion of obeisance. Then he waited.
+
+Isobel said, "El Hassan bids you speak."
+
+That was the tip-off, then. Crawford had already revealed himself to
+these people as El Hassan. Very well.
+
+Donaldson spoke in Arabic, not knowing the Tamaheq tongue. "Aselamu,
+Aleikum, El Hassan. I come to obey your wishes."
+
+A sigh had gone through the Tuareg. "Aiiiii." _Wallahi, even the
+djinn obeyed El Hassan!_
+
+With dignity, Homer Crawford said, "Keif halak, all in my house is
+yours."
+
+Rex Donaldson inclined his small bent body again, in respect.
+
+Crawford said in English, "Let's not carry this _too_ far. Come on
+into the tent."
+
+Ignoring the Tuareg, who still gaped but held their distance, the four
+English-speaking Negroes headed for the larger of the two tents that
+had been set up for El Hassan.
+
+As they passed Guemama who stood slightly aside from the other Tuareg
+with his uncle Melchizedek, the Amenokal, Crawford nodded and said,
+speaking to them both. "A messenger from my people to the south.
+Continue with your newly arrived warriors, O Guemama."
+
+Cliff Jackson had picked up the folded heliohopper and was now
+carrying it easily.
+
+Guemama looked at the device and blinked.
+
+Crawford refrained from laughing at his commander of irregulars. "It
+is not a _kambu_ device. My people deal not in magic. It is but one of
+the many of the things the new ways bring. One day, Guemama," Homer's
+face remained expressionless, "perhaps you will fly thus."
+
+The teguelmoust hid the other's blanch.
+
+In the tent, Homer turned to the Bahaman, motioned to what seating
+arrangements were available.
+
+Isobel said, "I'll get some coffee."
+
+Cliff blurted, "Holy Mackerel, if Donaldson, here, can drop in on us
+out of a clear sky, what keeps anybody else from doing it? Somebody
+with a couple of neopalm bombs in the way of calling cards."
+
+The dried up little man grimaced in his equivalent of a grin and said,
+"Hold it, you chaps. I want to notify the others."
+
+"The others? What others?" Crawford said.
+
+Donaldson ignored him for a moment, unslung the small bag he carried
+over one shoulder and dipped into it for a tiny, two-way radio. He
+pressed the buzzer button, then held it up to his mouth. "Jack, Jimmy,
+Dave. Here we are. Took donkey's years, but I found them. You chaps
+zero-in here." He left the device on and set it to one side, then
+yawned and settled himself to the rug-covered ground, crosslegged,
+Dogon style.
+
+Homer Crawford, even as he sat down himself on a footlocker, in lieu
+of a chair, rapped, "How did you find us? Who did you just radio?
+Where'd you come from?"
+
+"I say, hold it," Donaldson chuckled sourly. "First of all, I've come
+to join up. I thought as far back as that time we co-operated in
+quelling the riots in Mopti that you ought to do this--proclaim
+yourself El Hassan. When I heard you'd taken the step, I came to join
+up."
+
+"Oh, great," Cliff said. "What took you so long? We hardly get here,
+to our ultra-secret hideout, than here you are."
+
+Isobel came with the coffee and handed it around, silently. Then she,
+too, settled to the rug which covered the sand of the floor.
+
+Rex Donaldson turned to Cliff and there was a wrinkle of amusement in
+the older man's eyes. "I took so long, because I needed the time to
+recruit a few other chaps I knew would stand with us."
+
+Crawford rapped, "That's who you just radioed?"
+
+"Of course, old boy. I'd hardly bring the opposition down on us, would
+I?"
+
+"Where are they?"
+
+"In a couple of hovercraft, similar to your own, possibly twenty
+kilometers to the southwest."
+
+"You still haven't told us how you found us?"
+
+The little man shrugged. "After tendering my resignation to Sir
+Winton, I considered the possibilities, which narrowed down very
+quickly when I heard the Arab Legion had taken Tamanrasset."
+
+"Why?" Isobel said.
+
+Donaldson shot a glance at her. "Because, my dear, unless El Hassan is
+able to retake Tamanrasset, his movement has come a cropper." He
+turned his eyes back to Crawford, who was nervously running his hand
+through his hair. "I knew you had done considerable work in this area,
+so your whereabouts became obvious seeing that Tamanrasset is in
+Tuareg country. It was simply a matter of finding what Tuareg
+encampment was your base, and since your quickest manner of gathering
+support would be to swing the Amenokal to your banner, I headed for
+his usual encampment this time of year."
+
+Cliff looked at Homer Crawford. "If Rex found us so easily, so will
+anybody else."
+
+Isobel put in. "Not necessarily. Mr. Donaldson has information that
+most of El Hassan's opponents wouldn't."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Homer came to his feet unhappily and began pacing. "No, Isobel.
+Ostrander, for instance, has all the dope Rex has and is just as
+capable of working it through to a conclusion. It takes no great
+insight to realize El Hassan has to either put up or shut up when it
+comes to Tamanrasset. That's possibly why some of the other elements
+interested in North Africa have so far refrained from action against
+the Arab Union. They want to see what El Hassan is going to do--find
+out just what he has on the ball."
+
+Rex Donaldson looked at him interestedly, "And? What are your plans?"
+
+Homer Crawford's face worked. "My plans right at present are to stay
+alive, and you finding me so easily isn't heartening. However, it
+brings to mind some other problems which need solving, too."
+
+The rest of them fell silent, looking at him. His usual casual humor
+had dropped away, and his personality gripped them.
+
+He stopped his pacing, and frowned down at them.
+
+"El Hassan is going to have to remain on the move. Always. There can
+be no capital city, no definite base, and it's going to be a poor idea
+to sleep twice in the same place." He shook his head emphatically as
+though to deny rebuttal, which they hadn't actually made. "El Hassan's
+enemies mustn't know his location within twenty miles."
+
+"Twenty miles!" Cliff blurted.
+
+Crawford stared at him, but unseeingly. "Yes. At least half a dozen of
+our opponents possess nuclear weapons."
+
+Donaldson demured, sourly. "A nuclear weapon hasn't been exploded for
+donkey's years and--"
+
+"Of course not," Homer snapped. "Nor would anyone dare, anywhere else
+except in the wastes of the Sahara. A nuclear explosion in the Ahaggar
+would not go undetected and a controversy might go up in the Reunited
+Nations. But who could prove who had done it? And who, actually, would
+care if in the explosion a common foe of all was eliminated? But let
+the Arab Union, or possibly the Soviet Complex, or even others, learn
+definitely where El Hassan is and a bomb could well devastate twenty
+square miles seeking him out." Crawford shook his head. "No, we've
+simply got to keep on the move."
+
+Donaldson said, even as he nodded agreement, "And what other problems
+were you talking about?"
+
+"Oh?" Homer said. "Well, keeping on the move will serve to add mystery
+to the El Hassan legend. It isn't good for this Tuareg encampment,
+for instance, to see too much of El Hassan. A leader claiming
+domination of half a continent looks small potatoes in a desert camp
+of a few score tents. On the move, showing up here, there, the other
+place, for only a day or two at a time, is another proposition."
+
+He thought a moment. "Remember DeGaulle?"
+
+"How could we forget?" Rex Donaldson said wryly.
+
+"He had one angle that couldn't be more correct. He said a leader had
+to keep remote, ever mysterious. He can't afford to have real
+intimates. Napoleon, Hitler, Stalin. None of them had a real friend to
+their name. The nearest to friends that Adolph the Aryan ever had, his
+old comrades of the beerhall days, such as Rhoem, he butchered in the
+blood purge. And Stalin? He managed to do away with every Old
+Bolshevik he knew in the days before the Party came to power."
+
+Cliff was staring at him. "Hey," he said. "The one other thing one of
+these mystical leader types needs is a belief in his own destiny. To
+the point of clobbering all his intimates if he thinks they stand in
+his way."
+
+Homer broke into a sudden short laugh. "Any qualms, Cliff?"
+
+Cliff growled, "I don't know. This dream of yours is growing. Where it
+might end--I don't know."
+
+As they were talking the cries of _Ul-Ul-Ul-Allah Akbar!_ had broken
+out again.
+
+"Heavens to Betsy," Isobel said. "Another contingent of camelmen?"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+But this time the newcomers were three in number and rode in air
+cushion hover-lorries, the twins of that used by Homer Crawford.
+
+Rex Donaldson brought them up to the tent, saying, "I didn't think you
+chaps were quite so close."
+
+Homer, Cliff and Isobel faced the new recruits. The three were dressed
+in khaki bushshirts, shorts and heavy walking shoes--British style.
+Two were so obviously relatives that they could have been twins except
+for an age discrepancy of two or three years. They were smaller in
+stature than the Americans present, almost chunky, but their faces
+held education and cultivation. The third was slight of build, almost
+as wiry as Rex Donaldson, and seemed ever at ease.
+
+The small, bent Bahaman made introductions. "Gentlemen, let me present
+El Hassan--Homer Crawford to you--formerly of the Reunited Nations
+African Development Project, formerly of the United States of the
+Americas." His face twisted in his sour grimace of a grin. "Now
+running for the office of tyrant of North Africa."
+
+"And these are two of his original and most trusted adherents, Isobel
+Cunningham and Cliff Jackson." Donaldson turned to the newcomers.
+"John and James Peters--that's Jack and Jimmy, of course--recently
+colleagues of mine with the African Department of the Commonwealth,
+working largely in the Nigeria area."
+
+Homer shook hands, grinning. "You're a long way from home."
+
+"Farther than that," the one labeled Jack said without a smile
+changing the seriousness of his face. "We're originally from
+Trinidad."
+
+Donaldson said, "And this is David Moroka, late of South Africa."
+
+The wiry South African said easily, "Not so very late. In fact, I
+haven't seen Jo-burg since I was a boy."
+
+He was shaking hands with Isobel now. "Jo-burg?" she said.
+
+"Johannesburg," he translated. "I got out by the skin of my teeth
+during the troubles in the 1950s."
+
+"You sound like an American," Cliff said when it was his turn to
+shake.
+
+"Educated in the States," Moroka said. "Best thing that ever happened
+to me was to be kicked out of the land of my birth."
+
+Homer made a sweeping gesture at the floor and the few articles of
+furniture the tent contained that could be improvised as chairs. "I'm
+surprised you're up here instead of in your own neck of the woods," he
+said to the South African.
+
+Moroka shrugged. "I was considering heading south when I ran into
+Jimmy and Jack, here. They'd already got the word on the El Hassan
+movement from Rex. Their arguments made sense to me."
+
+Eyes went to the brothers from Trinidad and Jack Peters took over the
+position of spokesman. He said, seriously, as though trying to
+convince the others, "North Africa is the starting point, the
+beginning. Given El Hassan's success in uniting North Africa, the
+central areas and later even the south will fall into line. Perhaps
+one day there will be a union of _all_ Africa."
+
+"Or at least a strong confederation," Jimmy Peters added.
+
+Homer nodded thoughtfully. "Perhaps. But we can't look that far
+forward now." He looked from one of the newcomers to the other. "I
+don't know to what extent you fellows understand what the rest of us
+have set out to accomplish but I suppose if you've been with Rex for
+the past week, you have a fairly clear idea."
+
+"I believe so," Jack nodded, straight-faced.
+
+Homer Crawford said slowly, "I don't want to give you the wrong idea.
+If you join up, you'll find it's no parade. Our chances were slim to
+begin, and we've had some setbacks. As you've probably heard, the Arab
+Union has stolen a march on us. And from what we can get on the radio,
+we have thus far to pick up a single adherent among the world powers."
+
+"_Powers?_" Cliff snorted. "We haven't got a nation the size of Monaco
+on our side."
+
+Moroka shot a quick glance at the big Californian.
+
+Isobel caught it and laughed. "Cliff's a perpetual sourpuss," she
+said. "However, he's been in since the first."
+
+The South African looked at her in turn. "We were hardly prepared to
+find a beautiful American girl in the Great Erg," he said.
+
+Something about his voice caused her to flush. "We've all caught
+Homer's dream," she said, almost defensively.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+David Moroka flung to his feet, viper fast, and dashed toward Homer
+Crawford, his hands extended.
+
+Automatically, Cliff Jackson stuck forward a foot in an attempt to
+trip him--and missed.
+
+The South African, moving with blurring speed, grasped the
+unsuspecting Crawford by the right hand and arm, swung with fantastic
+speed and sent the American sprawling to the far side of the tent.
+
+Homer Crawford, old in rough and tumble, was already rolling out.
+Before the inertia of his fall had given way, his right hand, only a
+split second before in the grip of the other, was fumbling for the 9
+mm Noiseless holstered at his belt.
+
+Rex Donaldson, a small handgun magically in his hand, was standing,
+half crouched on his thin, bent legs. The two brothers from Trinidad
+hadn't moved, their eyes bugging.
+
+Moroka was spinning with the momentum of the sudden attack he'd made
+on his new chief. Now there was a gun in his own hand and he was
+darting for the tent opening.
+
+Cliff yelled indignantly, "Stop him!"
+
+Isobel, on her feet by now, both hands to her mouth, was staring at
+the goatskin tent covering, against which, a moment earlier, Crawford
+had been gently leaning his back as he talked.
+
+There was a vicious slash in the leather and even as she pointed, the
+razor-sharp arm dagger's blade disappeared. There was the sound of
+running feet outside the tent.
+
+Homer Crawford had assimilated the situation before the rest. He, too,
+was darting for the tent entrance, only feet behind Moroka.
+
+Donaldson followed, muttering bitterly under his breath, his face
+twisted more as though in distaste than in fighting anger.
+
+Cliff, too, finally saw light and dashed after the others, leaving
+only Isobel and the Peters brothers. They heard the muffled coughing
+of a silenced gun, twice, thrice and then half a dozen times, blurting
+together in automatic fire.
+
+Homer Crawford shuffled through the sand on an awkward run, rounding
+the tent, weapon in hand.
+
+There was a native on the ground making final spasmatic muscular
+movements in his death throes, and not more than three feet from him,
+coolly, David Moroka sat, bracing his elbows on his knees and aiming,
+two-handed, as his gun emptied itself.
+
+Crawford brought his own gun up, seeking the target, and clipping at
+the same time, "We want him alive--"
+
+It was too late. Two hundred feet beyond, a running tribesman, long
+arm dagger still in hand, stumbled, ran another three or four feet
+with hesitant steps, and then collapsed.
+
+Moroka said, "Too late, Crawford. He would have got away." The South
+African started to his feet, brushing sand from his khaki bush
+shorts.
+
+The others were beginning to come up and from the Tuareg encampment a
+rush of Guemama's men started in their direction.
+
+Crawford said unhappily, looking down at the dead native at their
+feet, "I hate to see unnecessary killing."
+
+Moroka looked at him questioningly. "Unnecessary? Another split second
+and his knife would have been in your gizzard. What do you want to
+give him, another chance?"
+
+Crawford said uncomfortably, "Thanks, Dave, anyway. That was quick
+thinking."
+
+"Thank God," Donaldson said, coming up, his wrinkled face scowling
+unhappily, first at the dead man at their feet, and then at the one
+almost a hundred yards away. "Are these local men? Where were your
+bodyguards?"
+
+Cliff Jackson skidded to a halt, after rounding the tent. He'd heard
+only the last words. "What bodyguards?" he said.
+
+Moroka looked at Crawford accusingly. "El Hassan," he said. "Leader of
+all North Africa. And you haven't even got around to bodyguards? Do
+you fellows think you're playing children's games? Gentlemen, I assure
+you, the chips are down."
+
+
+VI
+
+El Hassan's Tuaregs were on the move. After half a century and more of
+relative peace the Apaches of the Sahara, the Sons of Shaitan and the
+Forgotten of Allah were again disappearing into the ergs to emerge
+here, there, and ghostlike to disappear again. They faded in and faded
+away again, and even in their absence dominated all.
+
+El Hassan was on the move, as all men by now knew, and he, who was not
+for the amalgamation of all North Africa, was judged against him. And
+who, in the Sahara, could afford to be against El Hassan when his
+Tuaregs were everywhere?
+
+Refugees poured into Tamanrasset for the security of Arab Legion arms,
+or into In Salah and Reggan to the north, or Agades and Zinder to the
+south. Refugees who had already taken their stand with the Arab Union
+and Pan-Islam. Refugees who were men of property and would know more
+of this El Hassan before risking their wealth. Refugees who took no
+stand, but dreaded those who drank the milk of war, no matter the
+cause for which they fought. Refugees who fled simply because others
+fled, for terror is a most contagious disease.
+
+Colonel Midan Ibrahim of the crack motorized units of the Arab Legion
+which occupied Tamanrasset, was fuming. His task was a double one.
+First, to hold Tamanrasset and its former French stronghold Fort
+Laperrine; second, to keep open his lines of communication with
+Ghademes and Ghat, in Arab Union dominated Libya. To hold them until
+further steps were decided upon by his superiors in Cairo and the
+Near East--whatever these steps might be. Colonel Midan Ibrahim was
+too low in the Arab Union hierarchy to be in on such privy matters.
+
+His original efforts, in pushing across the Sahara from Ghademes and
+Ghat, had been no more than desert maneuvers. There had been no force
+other than nature's to say him nay. The Reunited Nations was an
+organization composed possibly of great powers, but in supposedly
+acting in unison they became a shrieking set of hair-tearing women;
+the whole being less than any of its individual parts. And El Hassan?
+No more than a rumor. In fact, an asset because this supposed mystery
+man of the desert, bent on uniting all North Africa under his
+domination, gave the Arab Union, its alibi for stepping in with
+Colonel Ibrahim's men.
+
+Yes, the original efforts had been but a drill. But now his Arab
+Legion troopers were beginning to face reality. The supply trucks,
+coming down under convoy from Ghademes, reported the water source at
+Ohanet destroyed. The major well would take a week or more to repair.
+Who had committed the sabotage? Some said the Tuareg, some said local
+followers of El Hassan, others, desert tribesmen resentful of _both_
+the Arab Union and El Hassan.
+
+One of his routine patrols, feeling out toward Meniet to the north,
+had suddenly dropped radio communication, almost in mid-sentence. A
+relieving patrol had thus far found nothing, the armored car's tracks
+covered over by the sands.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+And rumors, rumors, rumors, Colonel Midan Ibrahim, born of
+aristocratic Alexandrian blood, though trained to a sharp edge in Near
+Eastern warfare, was basically city bred. The gloss of desert training
+might take on him, but the bedouin life itself was not in his
+experience, and it was hard for him to trace the dividing line between
+possibility and fantasy.
+
+Rumors, rumors, rumors. They seemed capable of sweeping from one end
+of the Sahara to the other in a matter of hours. Faster, it would seem
+than the information could be dispensed by radio. El Hassan was here.
+El Hassan was there. El Hassan was marching on Rabat, in Morocco; El
+Hassan had just signed a treaty with the Soviet Complex; El Hassan had
+been assassinated by a disgruntled follower. Or El Hassan was a
+renegade Christian; El Hassan was a Moslem of Sheriffian blood, a
+direct descendant of the Prophet; El Hassan was a pagan come up from
+Dahomey and practiced ritual cannibalism; El Hassan was a Jew, a
+veteran of the Israel debacle.
+
+But this Colonel Ibrahim knew--the Tuareg had gone over to the new
+movement en masse. Something there was in El Hassan and his dream that
+had appealed to the Forgotten of Allah. The Tuareg, for the first time
+since the French Camel Corps had broken their strength, were
+united--united and on the move.
+
+The Tuareg were everywhere. In most sinister fashion--everywhere. And
+all were El Hassan's men.
+
+Colonel Ibrahim fumed and wondered what kept his superiors from
+sending in additional columns, additional armored elements. And, above
+all, adequate air cover. Ha! Give the colonel sufficient aircraft and
+he'd begin snuffing out bedouin life like candles--and bring the Peace
+of Allah to the Ahaggar.
+
+So Colonel Ibrahim fumed, demanded further orders from mum superiors,
+and put his legionnaires to work on bigger and better gun
+emplacements, trenches and pillboxes surrounding Fort Laperinne and
+Tamanrasset.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+El Hassan's personal entourage numbered exactly twenty persons. Of
+these, five were his immediate English-speaking, Western-educated
+supporters, Cliff, Isobel and the new Jack and Jimmy Peters and Dave
+Moroka. Rex Donaldson had been sent south again to operate in Senegal
+and Mali, to take over direction of the rapidly spreading movement in
+such centers as Bamako and Mopti and later, if possible, in Dakar.
+
+The other fifteen were carefully selected Tuareg, picked from among
+Guemama's tribesmen taking care to show no preference to any tribe or
+clan, and taking particular care to choose men who fought coolly,
+unexcitedly, and didn't froth at the mouth when in action; men who
+were slow to charge wildly into the enemy's guns--but slower still to
+retreat when the going was hot. El Hassan was prone to neither hero
+nor coward in his personal bodyguard.
+
+They kept under movement. In Abelessa one day, almost in range of the
+mobile artillery of the Arab Legion; in Timassao the next, checking
+the wells that meant everything to a desert force; the following day
+as far south as the Tamesna region to rally the less warlike
+Irreguenaten, a half-breed Tuareg people largely held in scorn by
+those of the Ahaggar.
+
+Homer Crawford was killing time whilst stirring up as much noise and
+dust as his handful of followers could manage. Killing time until
+Elmer Allen from the Chaambra country, Bey-ag-Akhamouk from the Teda,
+and Kenny Ballalou from the west could show up with their columns. He
+had no illusions of how things now stood. At best, he could hold
+together a thousand Tuareg fighting men. No more. The economics of
+desert life prevented him a larger force, unless he had the resources
+of the modern world at hand, and he didn't. Besides that, the Tuareg
+confederation could provide no larger number of fighting men and at
+the same time continue their desert economy.
+
+He stood now with Isobel, Cliff and Dave Moroka in one of the western
+type tents which the Peters brothers had brought with them in their
+hover-lorries, and poured over the half-adequate maps which covered
+the area.
+
+Dave Moroka traced with a finger. "If we could dominate these wells
+running to Djanet, our Arab Union friends would have only their one
+line of supply going through Temassinine to Ghademes. That's a long
+haul, Homer."
+
+Homer Crawford scowled thoughtfully. "That involves only four wells.
+If Ibrahim's legionnaires staked out only three armored vehicles at
+each water hole, they could hold them. Our camelmen could never take
+armor."
+
+Moroka frowned, too. "We've got to start _some_ sort of action, or the
+men will start dribbling away."
+
+Cliff Jackson said, "Bey and Kenny and Elmer should be coming soon. I
+heard a radio item this morning about a big pro-El Hassan movement
+starting in the Sudan among the Teda."
+
+Moroka said, "We need some sort of quick, spectacular victory. The
+bedouin can lose interest as quickly as they can get steamed up, and
+thus far we haven't given them anything but words--promises."
+
+"You're right," Homer growled, "but there's nothing we can do right
+now but mark time. Irritate the Arabs a bit. Keep them from spreading
+out."
+
+Isobel brought coffee, handing around the small Moroccan cups. She
+said, "Well, one thing is certain. We get supplies soon or start
+eating jerked goat and camel milk curds."
+
+Moroka said in irritation, "It's not funny."
+
+Isobel raised her eyebrows. "I didn't mean it to be. Have you ever
+been on a camel curd diet?"
+
+"Yes, I have," Moroka said impatiently. He turned back to Homer
+Crawford. "How about waylaying an armored car or so, just in the way
+of giving the men something exciting to do?"
+
+Crawford ran a hand back through his short hair. "Confound it, Dave,
+can you picture what a Recoilless-Brenn gun would do to a harka of our
+charging camelmen? We can't let these people be butchered."
+
+"I wasn't thinking of wild charges," Moroka argued.
+
+They had both turned away from Isobel, in their discussion. Now she
+looked at them, strangely. And especially at Homer Crawford. His
+brusqueness toward her didn't seem the old Homer.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+There was a bustle from outside and a guardsman stuck his head in the
+tent entrance and reported in Tamaheq that a small camel patrol
+approached.
+
+The four of them went out. Coming up were a dozen Tuareg and two motor
+vehicles.
+
+Cliff said, "Something new."
+
+Moroka said, "We can use the transport."
+
+"Let's see who they are, before we start requisitioning their
+property," Homer said dryly.
+
+The two desert trucks had hardly come to a halt before the camouflaged
+tents and hover-lorries of El Hassan's small encampment before a
+heavy-set, gray haired Negro, whose energy belied his weight, bounced
+down from the seat adjacent to the driver's in the lead vehicle and
+stomped belligerently to the group before the tent.
+
+"What is the meaning of this?" he snapped.
+
+Homer Crawford looked at him. "I'm sure I don't know as yet, Dr.
+Smythe. Neither you nor these followers of mine have informed me as to
+what has transpired. Won't you enter my quarters here and we'll go
+into it under more comfortable conditions?" He glanced upward at the
+midday Saharan sun.
+
+The other seemed taken aback at Crawford calling him by name. He
+squinted at the man who was seemingly his captor.
+
+"Crawford!" he snapped. "Dr. Homer Crawford! See here, what is the
+meaning of this?"
+
+Homer said, "Dr. Warren Harding Smythe, may I present Isobel
+Cunningham, Clifford Jackson and David Moroka, of my staff?"
+
+"Huuump. I met Miss Cunningham and, I believe, Mr. Jackson at that
+ridiculous meeting in Timbuktu, a short time ago." The doctor peered
+over his glasses at Moroka.
+
+The wiry South African nodded his head. "A pleasure, Doctor." He held
+open the tent entrance.
+
+Smythe snorted again and stomped inside to escape the sun's glare.
+
+In the shade of the tent's interior, Isobel clucked at him and hurried
+to get a drink of water from a moist water cooler. Homer Crawford
+motioned the other to a seat, and took one himself. "Now then, Dr.
+Smythe."
+
+The indignant medic blurted, "Those confounded bandits out there--"
+
+"Irregular camel cavalry," Crawford amended gently.
+
+"They've kidnapped me and my staff. I demand that you intercede, if
+you have any influence with them."
+
+"What were you doing?" Crawford was frowning at the other. Actually,
+he had no idea of the circumstances under which the probably
+overenthusiastic Tuareg troopers had rounded up the American medical
+man.
+
+"Doing? You know perfectly well I represent the American Medical
+Relief. My team has been in the vicinity of Silet, working with the
+nomads. The country is rife with everything from rickets to syphilis!
+Eighty per cent of these people suffer from trachoma. My team--"
+
+"Just a moment," Moroka said. "You mean out in those two trucks you
+have a complete American medical setup? Assistants and all?"
+
+Smythe said stiffly, "I have two American nurses with me and four
+Algerians recruited in Oran. This sort of interference with my work is
+insufferable and--"
+
+The South African was staring at Homer Crawford.
+
+Cliff Jackson cleared his throat. "It seems as though El Hassan has
+just acquired a Department of Health."
+
+"El Hassan?" Smythe stuttered. "What, what?"
+
+Isobel said softly, "Dr. Smythe, surely you have heard of El Hassan."
+
+"Heard of him? I've heard of nothing else for the past month!
+Confounded ignorant barbarian. What this part of the world needs is
+_less_ intertribal, interracial, international fighting, not more. The
+man's a raving lunatic and--"
+
+Isobel said gently, "Doctor ... may I introduce you to El Hassan?"
+
+"What ... what--?" For the briefest of moments, there was an element
+of timorness in the sputtering doctor's voice. Then suddenly he
+comprehended.
+
+He pointed at Homer Crawford accusingly. "You're El Hassan!"
+
+Homer nodded, seriously, "That's correct, Doctor."
+
+The doctor's eyes went around the four of them. "You've done what you
+were driving at there at that meeting in Timbuktu. You're trying to
+unite these people in spite of themselves and then drag them,
+willy-nilly, into the twentieth century."
+
+Homer still nodded.
+
+Smythe shook an indignant finger at him. "I told you then, Crawford,
+and I tell you now. These natives are not suited for such sudden
+change. Already they are subject to mass neurosis because they cannot
+adjust to a world that changes too quickly."
+
+"I wonder if that doesn't apply to the rest of us as well," Cliff said
+unhappily. "But the changes go on, if we like them or not. Can you
+think of any way to turn them off?"
+
+The doctor snorted.
+
+Homer Crawford said, "Dr. Smythe, the die is already cast. The
+question now becomes, will you join us?"
+
+"Join you! Certainly not!"
+
+Crawford said evenly, "Then I might suggest that, first, you will not
+be allowed to operate in my territory." He considered for a moment,
+grinning inwardly, but on the surface his expression serene. He added,
+"And second, that you will probably have difficulties procuring an
+exit visa from my domains."
+
+"Exit visa! Are you jesting? See here, my good man, you realize I am a
+citizen of the United States of the Americas and--"
+
+"A country," Homer yawned, "with which I have not as yet opened
+diplomatic relations, and hence has little representation in North
+Africa."
+
+The doctor was bug-eying him. He began sputtering again. "This isn't
+funny. You're an American citizen yourself. And you, Miss Cunningham
+and--"
+
+Isobel said sadly, "As a matter of fact, the last we heard, the State
+Department representative told us our passports were invalid."
+
+Crawford leaned forward. "Look here, Doctor. You don't see eye to eye
+with us on matters socio-economic. However, as a medical man, I submit
+that joining my group ... ah, that is, until you can secure an exit
+visa from my authorities ... will give you an excellent opportunity to
+practice your science here in the Sahara under the wing of El Hassan.
+I'll assign a place for your trucks and tents. Please consider the
+question and let me have your answer at your leisure. Meanwhile, we
+will prepare a desert feast suitable to the high esteem in which we
+hold you."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+They looked after the doctor, as he left, and Moroka chuckled.
+However, Isobel was watching Homer Crawford quizzically.
+
+She said finally, "We rode over him a little in the roughshod manner,
+didn't we?"
+
+Homer Crawford growled uncomfortably, "Particularly when we finally
+have our showdown with the Arab Legion, a medic will be priceless."
+
+Isobel said softly, "And the end justifies the means--"
+
+Homer shot a quick, impatient look at her. "The good doctor and his
+people are in the Sahara to work with the Tuareg and the Teda and the
+rest of the bedouin. Beyond that, he has the same dream we have--of
+developing this continent of our racial background."
+
+"But he doesn't believe in your methods, Homer, and we're forcing him
+to follow El Hassan's road in spite of his beliefs."
+
+Moroka had been peering at the two of them narrowly. "You don't make
+omelets without breaking eggs," he said, his voice on the overbearing
+side.
+
+She spun on him. "But the omelets don't turn out so well if some of
+the eggs you use are rotten."
+
+The South African's voice turned gentle. "Miss Cunningham," he said,
+"working in the field, like this, can have its rugged side for a young
+and delicate woman--"
+
+"_Delicate!_" she snapped. "I'll have you know--"
+
+"Hey, everybody, hold it," Cliff injected. "What goes on?"
+
+Dave Moroka shrugged. "It just seems to me that Isobel might do better
+back in Dakar, or in New York with your friend Jake Armstrong.
+Somewhere where her sensibilities wouldn't be so bruised, and where
+her assets"--his eyes went up and down her lithe body--"could be put
+to better use."
+
+Isobel's sepia face had gone a shade or more lighter. She said, very
+flatly, "My assets, Mr. Moroka, are in my head."
+
+Homer Crawford said disgustedly, "O.K., O.K., let's all knock it off."
+
+His eyes flicked back and forth between them, in definite command. "I
+don't want to hear any more in the way of personalities between you
+two."
+
+Moroka shrugged again. "Yes, sir," he said without inflection.
+
+Isobel turned away and took up some paperwork, without further words.
+She suppressed her feeling of seething indignation.
+
+Homer Crawford, under his pressures, was changing. Possibly, she had
+told herself before, it was change for the better. The need was for a
+_strong_ man, perhaps even a ruthless one.
+
+The Homer Crawford she had first known was an easier going man than
+he who had snapped an abrupt order to her a moment ago. The Homer she
+had first known requested things of his teammates and friends. El
+Hassan had learned to command.
+
+The Homer she had first known could never have ridden, roughshod, over
+the basically gentle Dr. Smythe.
+
+The Homer she had first known, when the El Hassan scheme was still
+aborning, had thought of himself as a member of a team. He was quick
+to ask advice of all, and quick to take it if it had validity. Now
+Homer, as El Hassan, was depending less and less upon the opinions of
+those surrounding him, more and more upon his own decisions which he
+seemed to sometimes reach purely through intuition.
+
+The El Hassan dream was still upon her, but, womanlike, she wondered
+if she liked the would-be tyrant of all North Africa as well as she
+had once liked the easy-going American idealist, Homer Crawford.
+
+Jack and Jimmy Peters, the brothers from Trinidad, entered, the former
+carrying a couple of books.
+
+They'd evidently failed to note the raised voices and wore their
+customary serious expressions. Jack looked at Homer and said, "_Cu vi
+scias Esperanton?_"
+
+Homer Crawford's eyebrows went up but he said, "_Jes, mi parolas
+Esperanto tre bona, mi pensas._"
+
+"_Bona_," Jack said, "_Tre bona_."
+
+"_Jes, estas bele_," his brother said.
+
+Moroka was scowling back and forth from one of them to the other. "I
+thought I had a fairly good working knowledge of the world's more
+common languages," he said, "but that goes by me. It sounds like a
+cross between Italian and pig-Latin."
+
+Homer said to the Peters brothers, "Let's drop Esperanto so that Dave,
+Isobel and Cliff can follow us. We can give it a whirl later, if you'd
+like, just for the practice."
+
+Isobel said slowly, "_Mi parolas Esperanto, malgranda_." Then in
+English, "I took it for kicks while I was still in school. Kind of
+rusty now, though."
+
+"Esperanto?" Cliff said. "You mean that gobblydygook so-called
+international language?"
+
+Jack Peters looked at him, serious faced as always. "What is wrong
+with an international language, Mr. Jackson?"
+
+Cliff was taken aback. "Search me. But it doesn't seem to have proved
+very practical. It didn't catch on."
+
+"Well, more than you might think," Isobel told him. "There are
+probably hundreds of thousands of persons in one part of the world or
+another who can get along in Esperanto."
+
+Moroka said impatiently, "What're a few hundred thousands of people in
+a world population like ours? Cliff's right. It never took hold."
+
+Homer said, "All right, Jack and Jimmy. You boys evidently have
+something on your minds. Let everybody sit down and listen to it."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Even before they got thoroughly settled, Jack Peters was launching
+into his pitch.
+
+"We need an official language," he said. "The El Hassan movement has
+set as a goal the uniting of all North Africa. We might start here in
+the Sahara, but it's just a start. Ultimately, the idea is to reach
+from Morocco to Egypt and from the Mediterranean to ... to where? The
+Congo?"
+
+"Actually, we've never set exact limits," Homer said.
+
+"Ultimately _all Africa_," Dave Moroka muttered softly. He ignored the
+manner in which Isobel contemplated him from the side of her eyes.
+
+"All right," the West Indian said. "There are more than seven hundred
+major languages, not counting dialects, in Africa. Sooner or later, we
+need an official language, what is it going to be?"
+
+"Why _one_ official language? Why not several?" Cliff scowled. "Say
+Arabic, here in this area. Swahili on the East coast. And, say,
+Songhoi along the Niger, and Wolof, the Senegalese lingua franca,
+and--"
+
+"You see," Peters interrupted. "Already you have half a dozen and you
+haven't even got out of this immediate vicinity as yet. Let me develop
+my point."
+
+Homer Crawford was becoming interested. "Go on, Jack," he said.
+
+Jack Peters pointed a finger at him. "To be the hero-symbol we have in
+mind, El Hassan is going to have to be able to communicate with _all_
+of his people. He's not going to be able to speak Arabic to, say, a
+Masai in Kenya. They hate the Arabs. He's not going to be able to
+speak Swahili to a Moroccan, they've never heard of the language. He
+can't speak Tamaheq to the Imraguen, they're scared to death of the
+Tuareg."
+
+Homer said thoughtfully, "A common language would be fine. It'd solve
+a lot of problems. But it doesn't seem to be in the cards. Why not
+adopt as our official language the one in which the _most_ of our
+people will be able to communicate? Say, Arabic?"
+
+Jack was shaking his head seriously. "And antagonize all the Arab
+hating Bantu in Africa? It's no go, Homer."
+
+"Well, then, say French--or English."
+
+"English is the most international language in the world," Moroka
+said. But his face was thoughtful, as those of the others were
+becoming.
+
+The West Indian was beginning to make his points now. "No, any of the
+European languages are out. The white man has been repudiated.
+Adopting English, French, Spanish, Portuguese or Dutch, as our
+official language would antagonize whole sections of the continent."
+
+"Why Esperanto?" Cliff scowled. "Why not, say, Nov-Esperanto, or Ido,
+or Interlingua?"
+
+Jimmy Peters put in a word now. "Actually, any one of them would
+possibly do, but we have a head start with Esperanto. Some years ago
+both Jack and I became avid Esperantists, being naive enough in those
+days to think an international language would ultimately solve all
+man's problems. And both Homer and Isobel seem to have a working
+knowledge of the language."
+
+Homer said, "So have the other members of my former Reunited Nations team.
+That's where those books you found came from. Elmer, Bey, Kenny ... and
+Abe ... and I used to play around with it when we were out in the desert,
+just to kill time. We also used it as sort of a secret language when we
+wanted to communicate and didn't know if those around us might understand
+some English."
+
+"I still don't get the picture," Cliff argued. "If we picked the most
+common half a dozen languages in the territory we cover, then millions
+of these people wouldn't have to study a second language. But if you
+adapt Esperanto as an official language then _everybody_ is going to
+have to learn something new. And that's not going to be easy for our
+ninety-five per cent illiterate followers."
+
+Isobel said thoughtfully, "Well, it's a darn sight easier to learn
+Esperanto than any other language we decided to make official."
+
+"Why?" Cliff said argumentatively.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Jack Peters took over. "Because it's almost unbelievably easy to
+learn. English, by the way, is extremely difficult. For instance,
+spelling and pronunciation are absolutely phonetic in Esperanto and
+there are only five vowel sounds where most national languages have
+twenty or so. And each sound in the alphabet has one sound only and
+any sound is always rendered by the same letter."
+
+Dave Moroka said, "Actually, I don't know anything at all about this
+Esperanto."
+
+The West Indian took him in, with a dominating glance. "Take grammar and
+syntax which can take up volumes in other languages. Esperanto has exactly
+sixteen short rules. And take vocabularies. For instance, in English we
+often form the feminine of a noun by adding _ess--actor-actress_,
+_tiger-tigress_. But not always. We don't say _bull-bulless_ or
+_ghost-ghostess_. In Esperanto you simply add the feminine ending to any
+noun--there's no exception to any rule."
+
+Jack Peters was caught up in his subject. "Still comparing it to
+English, realize that spelling and pronunciation in English are highly
+irregular and one letter can have several different sounds, and one
+sound may be represented by different letters. And there are even
+silent letters which are written but not pronounced like the _ugh_ in
+_though_. There are none of these irregularities in Esperanto. And the
+sounds are all sharp with none of such subtle differences as, say,
+_bed/bad/bard/bawd_, that sort of thing."
+
+Jimmy Peters said, "The big item is that any averagely intelligent
+person can begin speaking Esperanto within a few hours. Within a week
+of even moderate study, say three or four hours a day, he's
+astonishingly fluent."
+
+[Illustration]
+
+Isobel said thoughtfully, "There'd be international advantages. It's
+always been a galling factor in Africans dealing with Europeans that
+they had to learn the European language involved. You couldn't expect
+your white man to learn kitchen kaffir, or Swahili, or whatever, not
+when you got on the diplomatic level."
+
+Cliff Jackson was thinking out loud. "So far, El Hassan is an unknown.
+Rumor has it that he's everything from a renegade Egyptian, to an
+escaped Mau-Mau chief, to a Senegalese sergeant formerly in the French
+West African forces. But when he starts running into the press and
+they find that Homer and his closest associates all speak English, and
+most of them with an American accent, there's going to be some fat in
+the fire."
+
+"And El Hassan will have lost some of his mysterious glamour," Homer
+added thoughtfully.
+
+Even Moroka, the South African, was beginning to accept the idea. "If
+El Hassan, himself, refused in the presence of foreigners ever to
+speak anything but Esperanto, the aura of mystery would continue."
+
+Jimmy Peters, elaborating and obviously pushing an opinion he and his
+brother had already discussed, said, "We make it a rule that every
+school, both locally taught and foreign, must teach Esperanto as a
+required subject. All El Hassan governmental affairs would be
+conducted in that language. Anybody at all trying to get anywhere in
+the new regime would have to learn the official inter-African tongue."
+
+"Oh, brother," Cliff groaned, "that means me." He brightened. "We
+haven't any books or anything, as yet."
+
+Isobel laughed at him. "I'll take on your studies, Cliff. We have a
+few books. Those that Homer and his team used to kill time with. And
+as soon as we're in a position to make requests for foreign aid of the
+great powers, Esperanto grammars, dictionaries and so forth can be
+high on the list."
+
+With a sharp cry, almost a bark, a figure jumped into the entrance and
+with a bound into the center of the tent, sub-machinegun in hand.
+"_All right, everybody. On your feet. The place is raided!_"
+
+Dave Moroka leaped to his feet, his hand tearing with blurring speed
+for his holstered hand gun. "Where's that bodyguard?" he yelled.
+
+
+VII
+
+"Hold it," Homer Crawford roared, jumping to his own feet and grabbing
+the South African in his arms. He glared at the newcomer. "Kenny, you
+idiot, you're lucky you don't have a couple of holes in you."
+
+Kenny Ballalou, grinning widely, stared at Dave Moroka. "Jeepers," he
+said, "you got that gun out fast. Don't you ever stick 'em up when
+somebody has the drop on you?"
+
+Dave Moroka relaxed, the side arm dropping back into its holster.
+Homer Crawford released him and the South African ran a hand over his
+mouth and shook his head ruefully at Kenny.
+
+Isobel and Cliff crowded up, the one to kiss Kenny happily, the other
+to pound him on the back.
+
+Homer made introductions to Dave Moroka and the Peters brothers.
+
+"I've told you about Kenny," he wound it up. "I sent him over to the
+west to raise a harka of Nemadi to help in taking Tamanrasset." He
+joined Cliff Jackson in giving the smaller man an affectionate blow on
+the shoulder. "What luck did you have, Kenny?"
+
+Kenny Ballalou rubbed himself ruefully. "If you two will stop beating,
+I'll tell you. I didn't recruit a single Nemadi."
+
+Homer Crawford looked at him.
+
+Kenny said to the tent at large. "Anybody got a drink around here?
+Good grief, have I been covering ground."
+
+Isobel bustled off to a corner where she'd amassed most of their
+remaining European type supplies, but she kept her attention on him.
+
+Dave Moroka said, his voice unbelieving, "You mean you haven't brought
+any assistance _at all_?"
+
+Kenny grinned around at them. "I didn't say that. I said I didn't
+recruit any of the Nemadi. I never even got as far as their
+territory."
+
+Homer Crawford sank back onto the small crate he'd been using as a
+chair before Kenny's precipitate entrance. "O.K.," he said, "stop
+dramatizing and let us know what happened."
+
+Kenny spread his hands in a sweeping gesture. "The country's alive
+from here to Bidon Cinq and south to the Niger. Bourem and Gao have
+gone over to El Hassan and a column of followers was descending on
+Niamey. They should be there by now. I never got as far as Nemadi
+country. I could have recruited ten thousand fighting men, but I
+didn't know what we'd do with them in this country. So I weeded
+through everybody who volunteered and took only veterans. Men who'd
+formerly been in the French forces, or British, or whatever. Louis
+Wallington and his team were in Bourem when I got there and--"
+
+"Who is Louis Wallington?" Jack Peters said.
+
+Homer looked over at the Peters brothers and Dave Moroka. "Head of a
+six-man Sahara Development Project team like the one I used to head."
+His eyes went back to Kenny. "What about Louis?"
+
+"He's come in with us. Didn't know how to get in touch, so he was
+working on his own. And Pierre Dupaine. Remember him, the fellow from
+Guadeloupe in the French West Indies, used to be an operative of the
+African Affairs sector of the French Community? Well, he and a half
+dozen of his colleagues have come in and were leading an expedition on
+Timbuktu. But Timbuktu had already joined up too, before they got
+there--"
+
+"Wow," Homer said. "It's really spreading."
+
+Cliff said, "Why isn't all this on the radio?"
+
+Isobel had brought Kenny a couple of ounces of cognac from their
+meager supply. He knocked it back thankfully.
+
+Kenny said to Cliff, "Things are moving too fast, and communications
+have gone to pot." He looked at Homer. "Have any of these journalists
+found you yet?"
+
+"What journalists?"
+
+Kenny laughed. "You'll find out. Half the newspapers, magazines,
+newsreels and TV outfits in the world are sending every man they can
+release into this area. They're going batty trying to find El Hassan.
+Man, do you realize the extent of the country your followers now
+dominate?"
+
+Homer said blankly, "I hadn't thought of it. Besides, most of what
+you've been saying is news to us here. We've been keeping on the
+prod."
+
+Kenny grinned widely. "Well, the nearest I can figure it, El Hassan is
+ruler of an area about the size of Mexico. At least it was yesterday.
+By today, you can probably tack on Texas."
+
+Jimmy Peters, serious faced as usual, said, "Things are moving so
+fast, we're going to have to run to keep ahead of El Hassan's
+followers. One thing, Homer, we're going to have to have a press
+secretary."
+
+"Elmer Allen was going to handle that, but he's still up north,"
+Isobel said.
+
+"I'll do it. Used to be a newspaperman, when I was younger," Dave
+Moroka said quickly.
+
+Isobel frowned and began to say something, but Homer said, "Great, you
+handle that, Dave." Then to Kenny, "Where're your men and how well are
+they armed?"
+
+"Well, that's one trouble," Kenny said unhappily. "We requisitioned
+motor transport from some of the Sahara Afforestation Project oases
+down around Tessalit. In fact, Ralph Sandell, their chief mucky-muck
+in those parts, has come over to us. But we haven't got much in the
+way of shooting irons."
+
+Homer Crawford closed his eyes wearily. "What it boils down to, still,
+is that a hundred of those Arab Legionnaires, with their armor, could
+finish us all off in ten minutes if it came to open battle."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+El Hassan continued moving his headquarters, usually daily, but he
+eluded the journalists only another twelve hours. Then they were upon
+the mobile camp like locusts.
+
+And David Moroka took over with a calm efficiency that impressed all.
+In the first place, he explained, El Hassan was much too busy to
+handle the press except for one conference a week. In the second
+place, he spoke only Esperanto to foreigners. Meanwhile, he, Dave
+Moroka, would handle all their questions, make arrangements for
+suitable photographs, and for the TV and newsreel boys to trundle
+their equipment as near the front lines as possible. And, meanwhile,
+James and John Peters of El Hassan's staff had prepared press releases
+covering the El Hassan movement and its program.
+
+Homer, to the extent possible, was isolated from the new elements
+descending upon his encampment. Attempting anything else would have
+been out of the question. At this point, he was getting approximately
+four hours of sleep a night.
+
+Kenny Ballalou was continually coming and going in a mad attempt to
+handle the logistics of supplying several thousand men in a desert
+area all but devoid of either water or graze, not to speak of food,
+petroleum products and ammunition.
+
+Isobel and Cliff were thrown into the positions of combination
+secretaries, ministers of finance, assistant bodyguards, and all else
+that nobody else seemed to handle, _including_ making coffee.
+
+It was Isobel who approached a subject which had long worried her, as
+they drove across country, the only occupants of one of the original
+hover-lorries, during a camp move.
+
+She said, hesitantly, "Homer, is it a good idea to give Dave such a
+free hand with the press? You know, there are some fifty or so of them
+around now and they must be influencing the TV, radio, magazines and
+newspapers of the world."
+
+"He seems to know more about it than any of the rest of us," Homer
+said, his eyes on the all but sand-obliterated way. "We're going to
+have to move more of the men south. We simply haven't got water enough
+for them. There'd be enough in Tamanrasset, but not out here. Make a
+note to cover this with Kenny. I wonder where Bey is, and Elmer."
+
+Isobel made a note. She said, "Yes, but the trouble is, he's a
+comparative newcomer. Are you _sure_ he's in complete accord with the
+original plan, Homer? Does the El Hassan dream mean the same to him as
+it does to you, and ... well, me?"
+
+He shot her an impatient glance, even as he hit the lift lever to
+raise them over a small dune. "You and Dave don't hit it off very
+well. He's a good man, so far as I can see."
+
+Her delicate forehead wrinkled and her pixie face showed puzzlement.
+"I don't know why. I get along with most people, Homer."
+
+He patted her hand. "You can't please everybody, Isobel. Listen,
+something's got to be done about this king-size mob of camp followers
+we've got. Did you know Common Europe sent in a delegation this
+morning?"
+
+"Delegation? Common Europe--?"
+
+"Yeah. Haven't had time to discuss it with you. They found us just
+before we raised camp. Evidently, the British Commonwealth and
+possibly the Soviet Complex--some Chinese, I think--are also trying to
+locate us. Half of these people are without their own equipment and
+supplies, but that's not what worries me right now. We used to be able
+to camouflage our headquarters camp. Dig into the desert and avoid the
+aircraft. But if a group of bungling Common Market diplomats can
+locate us, what's to keep the Arab Legion from doing it and blessing
+us with a stick of neopalm bombs?"
+
+Isobel said, "Look, before we leave Dave. Did you know he was
+confiscating all radio equipment brought into our camp by the newsmen
+and whoever else?"
+
+Homer frowned. "Well, why?"
+
+"Espionage, Dave says. He's afraid some of these characters might be
+in with the Arab Union and inform on us."
+
+"Well, that makes some sense," Homer nodded.
+
+"Does it?" Isobel grumbled.
+
+He shot an irritated glance at her again and said impatiently, "Can't
+the poor guy do anything right?"
+
+"My woman's intuition is working," Isobel grumbled.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Dave Moroka came into headquarters tent without introduction. He was
+one of the half dozen who had permission for this. He had a sheaf of
+papers in his left hand and was frowning unhappily.
+
+"What's the crisis?" Homer said.
+
+"Scouts coming up say your pal Bey-ag-Akhamouk is on the way.
+Evidently, with a big harka of Teda from the Sudan."
+
+"Great." Homer crowed. "Now we'll get going."
+
+"Ha!" Dave said. "From what we hear, a good many are camel mounted.
+How are we going to feed them? Already some of the Songhai Kenny
+brought up from the south have drifted away, unhappy about supplies."
+
+"Bey's a top man," Homer told him. "The best. He'll have some ideas on
+our tactics. Meanwhile, we can turn over most of his men to one of the
+new recruits, and head them down to take Fort Lamy. With Fort Lamy and
+Lake Chad in our hands we'll control a chunk of Africa so big
+everybody else will start wondering why they shouldn't jump on the
+bandwagon while the going is good."
+
+Dave said, "Well, that brings up something else, Homer. These new
+recruits. In the past couple of days, forty or fifty men who used to
+be connected with African programs sponsored by everybody from the
+Reunited Nations to this gobblydygook outfit Cliff and Isobel once
+worked for, the AFAA, have come over to El Hassan. The number will
+probably double by tomorrow, and triple the next day."
+
+"Fine," Homer said. "What's wrong with that? These are the people
+that will really count in the long run."
+
+"Nothing's wrong with it, within reason. But we're going to have to
+start becoming selective, Homer. We've got to watch what jobs we let
+these people have, how much responsibility we give them."
+
+Homer Crawford was frowning at him. "How do you mean?"
+
+"See here," the wiry South African said plaintively, "when El Hassan
+started off there were only a half dozen or so who had the dream, as
+you call it. O.K. You could trust any one of them. Bey, Kenny, Elmer,
+Cliff, this Jake Armstrong that you've sent to New York, Rex
+Donaldson, then Jimmy and Jack Peters and myself. We all came in when
+the going was rough, if not impossible. But now things are different.
+_It looks as though El Hassan might actually win._"
+
+"So?" Homer didn't get it.
+
+"So from now on, you're going to have an infiltration of cloak and
+dagger lads from every outfit with an interest in North Africa.
+Potential traitors, potential assassins, subversives and what not."
+
+Homer was scowling at him. "Confound it, what do you suggest? That
+these Johnny-Come-Latelies be second-class citizens?"
+
+"Not exactly that, but this isn't funny. We've got to screen them. The
+trouble with this movement is that it's a one-man deal, and has to be.
+The average African is either a barbarian or an actual savage, one
+ethnic degree lower. He wants a hero-symbol to follow. O.K., you're
+it. But remember both Moctezuma and Atahualpa. Their socio-economic
+systems pyramided up to them. The Spanish conquistadores, being old
+hands at sophisticated European-type intrigue, quickly sized up the
+situation. They kidnaped the hero-symbol, the big cheese, and later
+killed him. And the Inca and the Aztec cultures collapsed."
+
+Homer was scowling at him unhappily.
+
+Dave summed it up. "All we need is one fuzzy minded commie from the
+Soviet Complex, or one super-dooper democrat who thinks that El Hassan
+stands in the way of _freedom_, whatever that is, and bingo a couple
+of bullets in your tummy and the El Hassan movement folds its tents
+like the Arabs and takes a powder, as the old expression goes."
+
+"You have your point," Homer Crawford admitted. "Follow through, Dave.
+Figure out some screening program."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Cliff came in. "Hey, Homer. Guess what old Jake has done."
+
+"Jake Armstrong?"
+
+"He's swung the Africa for Africans Association in New York over to
+us. They've raised a million bucks. What'll we do with it? How can he
+get anything to us?"
+
+"We'll have him plow it back into publicity and further fund raising
+campaigns," Homer said. "That's the way it's done. You raise some
+money for some cause and then spend it all on a bigger campaign to
+raise still more money, and what you get from that one you plow into a
+still bigger campaign."
+
+Cliff said, "Don't you _ever_ get anything out of it?"
+
+Dave and Homer both laughed.
+
+Cliff said, "I've got some still better news."
+
+"Good news, we can use," Homer said.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The big Californian looked at him in pretended awe. "A poet no less,"
+he said.
+
+"Shut up," Homer said. "What's the news?"
+
+The fact of the matter was, he was becoming increasingly impatient of
+the continual banter expected of him by Cliff and even the others. As
+original members of the team, they expected an intimacy that he was
+finding it increasingly difficult to deliver. Among other things, he
+wished that Cliff, in particular, would mind his attitude when such
+followers as Guemama were present. The El Hassan posture could be
+maintained only in never to be compromised dignity.
+
+Bey had once compared him to Alexander, to Homer's amusement at the
+time. But now he was beginning to sympathize with the position the
+Macedonian leader had found himself in, betwixt the King-God conscious
+Persians, and the rough and ready Companions who formed his bodyguard
+and crack cavalry units. A King-God simply didn't banter with his
+subordinates, not even his blood-kin.
+
+Cliff scowled at him now, at the sharpness of Homer's words, but he
+made his report.
+
+"Our old pal, Sven Zetterberg. He's gone out on a limb. Because of the
+great danger of this so-far localized fight spreading into world-wide
+conflict--says old Sven--the Reunited Nations will not tolerate the
+combat going into the air. He says that if _either_ El Hassan or the
+Arab Legion resort to use of aircraft, the Reunited Nations will send
+in its air fleet."
+
+"Wow," Homer said. "All the aircraft we've got are a few slow-moving
+heliocopters that Kenny brought up with him."
+
+Dave Moroka snapped his fingers in a gesture of elation. "That means
+Zetterberg is throwing his weight to our side."
+
+Homer was on his feet. "Send for Kenny and Guemama and send a
+heliocopter down to pick up Bey and rush him here. He shouldn't be
+more than a day's march away. I wonder what Elmer is up to. No word at
+all from him. At any rate, we want an immediate council of war. With
+Arab Legion air cover eliminated, we can move in."
+
+Cliff said sourly, "It's still largely rifles against armored cars,
+tanks, mobile artillery and even flame throwers."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+All the old hands were present. They stood about a map table, Homer
+and Bey-ag-Akhamouk at one end, the rest clustered about. Isobel sat
+in a chair to the rear, stenographer's pad on her knees.
+
+Bey was clipping out suggestions.
+
+"We have them now. Already our better trained men are heading up for
+Temassinine to the north and Fort Charlet to the east. We'll lose men
+but we'll knock out every water hole between here and Libya. We'll cut
+every road, blow what few bridges there are."
+
+Jack Peters said worriedly, "But the important thing is Tamanrasset.
+What good--"
+
+"We're cutting their supply line," Bey told him. "Can't you see?
+Colonel Ibrahim and his motorized column will be isolated in
+Tamanrasset. They won't be able to get supplies through without an air
+lift and Sven Zetterberg's ultimatum kills that possibility. They're
+blocked off."
+
+Jimmy Peters was as confused as his brother. "So what? to use the
+Americanism. They have both food and water in abundance. They can hold
+out indefinitely. Meanwhile, our forces are undisciplined irregulars.
+We gain a thousand recruits a day. They come galloping in on
+camel-back or in beat-up old vehicles, firing their hunting rifles
+into the air. But we also lose a thousand a day. They get bored, or
+hungry, and decide to go back to their flocks, or their jobs on the
+new Sahara projects. At any rate, they drift off again. It looks to me
+that, if Colonel Ibrahim can hold out another week or so, our forces
+might melt away--all except the couple of hundred or so European and
+American educated followers. And, cut down to that number, they'll
+eliminate us in no time flat."
+
+Homer Crawford was eying him in humor. "You're no fighting man,
+Peters. Tell me, what is the single most fearsome enemy of an
+ultra-mechanized soldier with the latest in military equipment and
+super-firepower weapons?"
+
+Jimmy Peters was blank. "I suppose a similarly armed opponent."
+
+Homer smiled at him. "Rather, a man with a knife."
+
+The expressions of the Peters brothers showed resentment. "We weren't
+jesting."
+
+"Neither was I," Homer rapped. He looked around at the rest, including
+Bey and Kenny. "What happens to a modern mechanized army when it runs
+out of gasoline? What happens to a water-cooled machine gun when there
+is no water? What use is a howitzer when the target is a single man in
+ten acres of cover? Gentlemen, have any of you ever studied the
+tactics of Abd-el-Krim or, more recently still, Tito? Bey, I assume
+you have."
+
+He had their attention.
+
+"During the Second War," Homer continued, "this Yugoslavian Tito tied
+up two Nazi army corps with a handful of partisans--guerrillas. The
+most modern army in the world, the German Panzers, tried to ferret him
+out for five years, and couldn't. There are other examples. The
+Chinese operating against the Japs in the same war. Or one of the
+classic examples is Abd-el-Krim destroying two different Spanish
+armies in the Moroccan Rif in the 1920s. His barefoot men, armed with
+rifles, took on Primo de Rivera's modernized Spanish armies and
+trounced them."
+
+Bey said, "Homer's right. Our only tactics are guerrilla ones."
+
+Homer Crawford looked at Guemama, who had been standing in the
+background, unfamiliar with the language these others spoke, but
+holding his dignity. Crawford said, diplomatically, "And what sayest
+thou, O chieftain of the Tuareg?"
+
+Guemama was gratified at the attention. He said in Tamaheq, "As all
+men know, O El Hassan, we now outnumber by thrice the Arab _giaours_
+may they burn in Gehennum. Therefore, let us rush in and kill them
+all."
+
+Bey shuddered.
+
+Homer Crawford nodded seriously. "Ai, Guemama, that would be the
+valorous way of the Tuareg. But the heart of El Hassan forbids him to
+sacrifice the lives of his people. Consequently, we shall use the
+tactics of the desert jackal. Instruct those of your people who are
+most cunning, to infiltrate Tamanrasset in the night. Let them not
+carry arms for they may well be searched by the Arab _meleccha_."
+
+The Tuareg chieftain was intrigued. "And what shall they do in
+Tamanrasset, El Hassan? Suddenly seize arms, one night, and rise up in
+wrath against the Arab dogs and kill them all?"
+
+Homer was shaking his head. "They will address themselves to the
+Haratin serfs and spread to them the message of El Hassan. They will
+be told that in the world of El Hassan each man shall be free to seek
+his own destiny to the extent his mind and abilities allow. And no man
+shall be the less because he was born a serf, and no man the more
+because he was born to wealth or power in the old days."
+
+[Illustration]
+
+"Aiii," Guemama all but moaned. "But such a message--"
+
+"Is the message of El Hassan, as all men know," Homer Crawford said
+flatly. He turned to Kenny Ballalou. "Kenny, take over this angle. We
+want as many propagandists in that town as possible. It's already
+choked with refugees, most of them not knowing what they're fleeing.
+We might get recruits there, too. But mostly we want to appeal to the
+sedentary natives in town. They've got to get the dreams, too. Promise
+them schools, land ... I don't have to tell you."
+
+"Right," Kenny said.
+
+Isobel said, "Maybe I ought to get in on this, too. The women might do
+a better job than men on this slant. It's going to take a lot to get a
+Tuareg bedouin to sink to talking to a Haratin on an equal basis."
+
+Bey and Homer had bent back over the maps, but before they could get
+back into the details of guerrilla warfare against Colonel Ibrahim and
+his legionnaires, they were halted by a controversy from without.
+
+"What now?" Homer growled. "This camp is getting to be like a
+three-ring circus."
+
+The entrance flap was pushed aside and three of Bey's Sudanese
+tribesmen half escorted, half pushed a newcomer front and center.
+
+It was Fredric Ostrander, natty as usual, but now in khaki desert
+wear. He was obviously in a rage at the three rifle-carrying nomads
+who had him in charge.
+
+Bey spoke to the Teda warriors in their own tongue. Then to Homer in
+Tamaheq, which he assumed the C.I.A. man didn't know, "They picked him
+up in the desert in a hover-jeep. He was evidently looking for our
+camp." He dismissed the three bedouin with a gesture.
+
+Ostrander was outraged. He snapped at Homer Crawford, "I demand an
+explanation of this cavalier attack upon--"
+
+His face expressionless, Homer held up a hand to quiet the smaller
+man. He looked at Jack Peters and raised his eyebrows. "_Kion li la
+fremdul diras?_"
+
+Jack, serious as ever, replied in Esperanto, then turned to the
+American C.I.A. man and said, "El Hassan has requested that I
+translate for him. He speaks only the official language of North
+Africa to foreign representatives. Undoubtedly, sir, you have proper
+credentials?"
+
+Had Fredric Ostrander been of lighter complexion, his color would have
+undoubtedly gone dark red.
+
+"Look here, Crawford," he snapped. "I'm in no mood for nonsense. The
+State Department has sent me to your headquarters to make another
+attempt to bring some sense home to you. As an American citizen,
+owing alliance--"
+
+Homer Crawford spoke in Esperanto to Jack Peters who nodded seriously
+and said to Ostrander, "El Hassan informs you he owes alliance only to
+the people of North Africa whose chosen leader he is."
+
+Ostrander knew they were kidding him, but at the same time the stand
+being taken was actuality. He glared at the Americans present whom he
+knew, Bey, Isobel, Cliff and Kenny. He snapped, "Very well, but I
+repeat what I told you when last we met. The State Department of the
+United States of the Americas will not stand idly by and see this area
+taken over by elements dominated by red subversives."
+
+"Holy Mackerel," Cliff growled, "are you still tooting that horn?"
+
+Dave Moroka said sarcastically, "It's an old wheeze. The definition of
+a red subversive is anybody who doesn't see eye to eye with the United
+States. They've been pulling the gag for decades. Remember Guatemala
+and Cuba? Do anything that interferes with American business abroad
+and the cry goes up, _he's an enemy of the free world!_"
+
+Ostrander spun on him, his eyes narrowing.
+
+Dave laughed. "The definition of members of the free world, of course,
+being anybody who follows the American line. Anybody is free, Spanish
+and Portuguese dictators, absolute monarchs in Arabia, Chinese
+warlords, if they're on the American side."
+
+Ostrander snapped, "I don't believe we've met."
+
+Moroka made a sweeping bow. "I'm afraid we don't move in the same
+circles. I've spent possibly a third of my life in prison--"
+
+"Undoubtedly," Ostrander snorted.
+
+"... Put there by people such as yourself--in various
+countries--because I was fighting for my own version of freedom."
+
+"Communism, undoubtedly!"
+
+Moroka said softly, "I'm a South African, sir. Both my parents were
+killed in the 1960 riots. It seems that they had dark skins--even as
+you and I--and weren't able to see why that should keep them from
+_freedom_."
+
+Fredric Ostrander spun back to Homer Crawford. "I'm not here to
+quibble with self-confessed malcontents. I've been sent to represent
+the State Department, to report to them, and, above all, to do what I
+can to prevent your activities from redounding to the further
+advantage of the Soviet Complex. I assume you can assign me quarters."
+
+Straight-faced, Jack Peters translated this into Esperanto, and,
+straight-faced, Homer answered in the same language.
+
+Jack turned back to the impatient C.I.A. man. "El Hassan welcomes the
+representative of the United States of the Americas and hopes this
+will be the first step toward diplomatic recognition between North
+Africa and your great country. He has instructed me to find you
+quarters, which, possibly you may have to share with delegations from
+Common Europe or"--Peters cleared his throat--"the Soviet Complex. He
+further suggests that it might be well, if you maintain communications
+with your superiors, to have sent to you books on Esperanto, the
+official language of North Africa."
+
+Dave Moroka put in, "By the way, we'll have to go through your things.
+We can't allow any radio communication from El Hassan's camp, except
+through official El Hassan channels--for obvious military reasons."
+
+Ostrander snorted, stared indignantly at Homer again, spun on his heel
+and stalked from the tent. Jack Peters followed him but not before
+tipping an uncharacteristic wink at Homer.
+
+When they were gone, Homer sighed and looked at Dave Moroka. "That
+reminds me, how are our other delegations coming?"
+
+The South African grinned ruefully. "They're playing it cool. Waiting
+to see what way to jump. Give El Hassan some real success, and they'll
+probably jump at the chance to be first to recognize him. Especially
+these Soviet Complex opportunists. They'd just love to suck you into
+their camp."
+
+Isobel looked at him. "After that tearing down you gave poor Ostrander
+about the United States, now you rip into the Soviet Complex. Just
+where do you stand, Dave?"
+
+Dave shrugged her question off, as though there were more important
+things. "I'm an El Hassan man," he said. "Let those two overgrown
+powers handle their own troubles."
+
+Jimmy Peters spoke up for the first time since Ostrander entered the
+tent. "You know," he said, seriously, "I'm beginning to wonder if the
+world can afford nationalistic patriotism. Haven't we gone too far
+along the road to think of ourselves any longer as Americans, or
+Russians, or French, or West Indians, or whatever? Hasn't the human
+race grown up beyond that point?"
+
+Kenny said mockingly, "What! Aren't you proud of being a West Indian,
+and a loyal subject of Her Majesty?"
+
+Peters ignored his tone. "Why should I be proud of my country? It was
+an accident of birth with which I had nothing to do, that made me a
+West Indian, rather than a Canadian, a Chinese, a Norwegian, or
+whatever. Intelligently, I should be proud only of things that I,
+myself, have accomplished."
+
+Bey said, "If we can stop waxing philosophic for a while and get back
+to how most efficiently to clobber these Arabs--"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The Hindu entered Kirill Menzhinsky's small office behind the Indian
+souvenir shop in the Tangier Zocco Chico and said, "The operative
+Anton is on the receiver."
+
+The agent superior of the _Chrezvychainaya Komissiya_ for North Africa
+looked up from his desk and grunted acceptance of the message. He came
+to his feet and followed the other into a back room and took his place
+before a mouthpiece and screen.
+
+The man whose party name was Anton nodded a greeting.
+
+Kirill Menzhinsky said, "It's about time I heard from you, Anton."
+
+"Yes. But the situation has been such that it was not easy to report."
+
+"And now?"
+
+"Briefly, I am at El Hassan's headquarters. You were correct. He is in
+actuality Homer Crawford. The others you mentioned are also with him,
+including the traitor Isobel Cunningham."
+
+The Soviet Complex's agent allowed his eyebrows to rise.
+
+Anton said flatly, "The dame has evidently renounced the party and now
+holds high rank in Crawford's inner circle."
+
+"And you?"
+
+"I am rapidly becoming his right-hand man. I am his press secretary
+and in charge of communications. Early in our acquaintanceship I was
+able to engineer an attempted assassination. I was able to, ah, save
+the life of El Hassan."
+
+The Russian's eyes narrowed. "The assassins? Is there any chance that
+they might reveal your little trick?"
+
+Anton grimaced. "I am not a fool, Kirill. Both of them were killed in
+the assassination attempt. El Hassan was most grateful."
+
+"I see. And how would you sum up the present situation?"
+
+"This area is swinging rapidly to El Hassan, but any sort of defeat
+and undoubtedly his followers would melt away. The bedouin are too
+volatile. Before he ever makes any real headway he will have to take
+the major commercial and industrial cities such as Dakar, Kano,
+Lagos, Accra, Freetown, Khartoum, and eventually, of course, Cairo,
+Casablanca, Algiers and so forth."
+
+"And our friend El Hassan leans not at all in our direction?"
+
+The man the Party called Anton shook his head. "He leans in no
+direction, except that which will unite and modernize North Africa.
+Neither do his immediate followers. They're a well-knit group and it
+seems unlikely that I could pry any of them away from him in case it
+became desirable."
+
+"I see," Kirill Menzhinsky muttered. "I understand that a delegation
+from Moscow has arrived in El Hassan's camp. Have you contacted them?"
+
+"Certainly not. My orders were to rise in the El Hassan hierarchy and
+await further orders. None of my current, ah, colleagues have any
+suggestion that I am identified with the Party. Which reminds me, an
+American C.I.A. man, Fredric Ostrander, has shown up. The fool seems
+to be under the impression that El Hassan is a Party tool."
+
+"I know this Ostrander. Don't underestimate him, Anton. He's an
+extremely competent operative in the clutch, as the Americans call
+it."
+
+"Perhaps. But nevertheless, there is no indication that the El Hassan
+movement leans either to East or West, nor do I see any signs that it
+is apt to in the future."
+
+The Russian was scowling. "I see. Then perhaps it will be necessary
+for us to do something to topple our El Hassan before he becomes much
+stronger, and to find another to unite North Africa."
+
+Anton frowned in his turn. "I don't know. This man Crawford--and his
+followers, for that matter--are motivated by high ideals. As you have
+said, North Africa is not ready for our socio-economic system. Men of
+the caliber of Homer Crawford could bring it into the modern age
+perhaps more quickly than another."
+
+Menzhinsky chuckled. "Don't worry about it, Anton. Such matters of
+policy will be decided by others than you, or even me. Keep in touch
+with me more often, in the future, Anton."
+
+"Yes, Comrade." His face faded from the screen.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Tamanrasset lies at an altitude of approximately 4,600 feet, about
+average for the Ahaggar plateau. Around it, such peaks as the Tahat
+reach 9,600 feet above sea level. The country is rugged, jagged, bleak
+beyond belief. With the possible exception of Southern Afghanistan in
+the Khyber area, there is no place in the world more suited for
+guerrilla warfare, less suited for the proper utilization of modern
+armor, particularly when the latter is forced to work without air
+cover.
+
+Homer Crawford, equipped with an old-style telescope, was
+spread-eagled on top a rock outcropping, his only companion Isobel
+Cunningham. Directly before him, possibly two miles in distance, was
+the desert city of Tamanrasset, to the right, a kilometer or so, Amsel
+where palatable water was to be found at eighteen meters depth.
+
+"Our friend, the colonel, is up to something," he grumbled.
+
+She had a pair of binoculars, of considerably less power than his
+glass.
+
+"It looks as though Guemama's boys are on the run," she said.
+
+"As per orders. The primary theory of partisan warfare is not to get
+killed. The guerrilla never stands and fights. If the regular forces
+he opposes can bring him to bay, they've got him." He interrupted
+himself to clip out, "Look at that tank, darling! There on the left!"
+
+Isobel tightened, looked at him quickly from the side of her eyes. No.
+He'd said it inadvertently, his mind concentrated on the fighting men
+below. She had often wondered where she stood with Homer Crawford the
+man, as opposed to El Hassan the idealist. The tip of her tongue
+licked the side of her mouth, as she surreptitiously took him in. But
+Crawford the man would have to wait, there was no time, no time.
+
+Isobel swung her glasses. "The one starting to go in a circle? There,
+it stopped."
+
+"One of the snipers got its commander," Homer said. "You can't fight a
+tank without the commander's head being up through the hatch. That's a
+popular fallacy. You can't see well enough to fight your tank unless
+you've got your head up. And that's suicide when you're against
+guerrillas. The colonel ought to send his infantry out first."
+
+Isobel said, "What did you mean when you said that he's up to
+something?"
+
+Homer's eye was still glued to the eyepiece of his glass. "He's leaving
+his entrenchments and sending his vehicles out to capture our ... our
+strong points."
+
+"You mean our water, don't you?"
+
+Bey came snaking up to them on his belly. He came abreast of Homer and
+brought forth his own binoculars. He watched for a moment and then
+muttered a curse under his breath.
+
+"Guemama better start pulling back those men more quickly," he said.
+
+"He will. He's a good man," Homer told him. "What's up?"
+
+"Evidently, Colonel Ibrahim has decided to come out of retirement.
+He's sent small motorized elements to Effok, In Fedjeg, Otoul and even
+to Tahifet."
+
+"And--?"
+
+"And has taken them all, of course. Our men fall back, fighting a
+stubborn rear-guard action, taking as few casualties as possible."
+
+"I don't get it," Homer bit out. "He's using up his fuel and
+ammunition and losing more men than we are. Certainly he can't figure,
+with the thousand odd troops he has, to be able to take and hold
+enough of the oases and water holes in this vicinity to push us out
+completely."
+
+Bey said, "What worries me is the possibility that he knows something
+we don't. That he's figuring on being relieved or has a new source of
+fuel, ammunition and men on tap."
+
+"The roads are cut. Our men hold every source of water from here to
+Libya and the Reunited Nations has put thumbs down on aircraft which
+eliminates an air lift."
+
+"Yeah," Bey said, unhappily.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+That evening, following the day's last meal, Cliff came into the
+headquarters tent grinning, broadly. "Hey, guess what we've
+liberated."
+
+"A bottle of Scotch?" Kenny said hopefully.
+
+"A king-size portable radio transmitter. Ralph Sandell knew about it.
+The Sahara Afforestation Project people were going to use it to
+propagandize the tribesmen into coming in and taking jobs in the new
+oases."
+
+Dave Moroka, who'd been censoring press releases, shook his head.
+"That's why we need an El Hassan in this country," he complained.
+"They put a couple of million dollars into a radio transmitter, never
+asking themselves how many of the bedouin own radios."
+
+Jack Peters said, "Wait a moment, you chaps. Didn't Bey capture a
+couple of Arab Legion radio technicians today?"
+
+"They defected to us," Homer Crawford said, looking up from an
+improvised desk where he was poring over some supply papers with
+Isobel. "What did you have in mind, Jack?"
+
+"There are radios in Tamanrasset. In fact, there's probably a radio in
+every one of those military vehicles of Ibrahim's. Why can't we
+blanket these Arab Union chaps with El Hassan propaganda? Quite a few
+of them are from Libya, Tunisia and Egypt. In short, they're Africans
+and susceptible to El Hassan's dream."
+
+"Good man. Take over the details, Jack," Homer said. He went back to
+his work with Isobel.
+
+Jimmy Peters entered with some papers in hand. He said, seriously,
+"The temperature is rising in the Reunited Nations--and everywhere
+else, for that matter. Damascus and Cairo have been getting
+increasingly belligerent. Homer, it looks as though the Arab Union is
+getting ready to go out on a limb. Weeks have passed since Colonel
+Ibrahim first took Tamanrasset and the Reunited Nations, the United
+States, the Soviet Complex and all others interested in North Africa,
+have failed to do anything. Everybody, evidently, afraid of
+precipitating something that couldn't be ended."
+
+All eyes went to Homer Crawford who ran a black hand back over his
+hair in weariness. "I know," he said. "Something is about to blow.
+Dave has sent some of his best men into Tamanrasset to pick up gossip
+in the souks. Morale was dragging bottom among the legionnaires just a
+couple of days ago. Now they seem to have a new lease."
+
+"In spite of the sabotage our people have been committing?" Isobel
+said.
+
+"That's falling off somewhat," Cliff said. "At first our more
+enthusiastic followers were able to pull everything from heaving
+Molotov Cocktails into tanks, to pouring sugar in hover-jeep gas
+tanks, but the legionnaires have both smartened up and gotten very
+tough."
+
+"Good," Dave Moroka said now.
+
+They looked at him.
+
+"Atrocities," he said. "In order to guard against sabotage, the
+legionnaires will be taking measures that will antagonize the people
+in Tamanrasset. They'll shoot a couple of teenage kids, or something,
+then they'll have a city-wide mess on their hands."
+
+Isobel said unhappily, "It seems a nasty way to win a war."
+
+Dave grunted his contempt of her opinion. "There is no way of winning
+a war other than a nasty one."
+
+Bey came in, yawning hugely. His energy was inconceivable to the
+others. So far as was known, he hadn't slept, other than sitting erect
+in a moving vehicle, for the past four days. He said to Homer, "Fred
+Ostrander has been bending my ear for the past hour or so. Do you want
+to talk to him?"
+
+"About what?" Homer said.
+
+"I don't know. He has a lot of questions. I think he's beginning to
+suspect--just _suspect_, understand--that possibly the whole bunch of
+us aren't receiving our daily instructions from either Moscow or
+Peking."
+
+Dave and Cliff both laughed.
+
+Homer sighed and said, "Show him in. He's the only thing we have in
+the way of a contact with the United States of the Americas and sooner
+or later we're going to have to make our peace with both them and the
+Soviet Complex. In fact, what we're probably going to have to do is
+play one against the other, getting grants, loans, economic
+assistance--"
+
+"Technicians, teachers, arms," Bey continued the list.
+
+Kenny Ballalou looked at him and snorted. "Arms! If there's anything
+this part of the world doesn't need it's more arms. In fact, that goes
+for the rest of the world, too. In the old days when the great nations
+were first beginning to attempt to line up the neutrals they sent aid
+to such countries by the billions--and most of it in arms. How
+ridiculous can you get? Putting arms in the hands of most of the
+governments of that time was like handing a loaded pistol to an
+idiot."
+
+Bey hung his head in mock humility. "I bow before your wisdom," he
+said. He left the room to get Ostrander.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The C.I.A. man had lost a fraction of his belligerence, but none of
+his arrogance and natty appearance. Homer wondered vaguely how the
+other managed to remain so spruce in the inadequate desert camp.
+
+Jack Peters said, "What did you wish to ask El Hassan? I will
+translate."
+
+"Never mind that, Jack," Homer said. "We'll get tougher about using
+our official language when we've gone a little further in building
+our new government." He said to Ostrander, "What can I do for you?
+Obviously, my time, is limited."
+
+Fredric Ostrander said, "I've been gathering material for reports to
+my superiors. I've been doing a good deal of questioning, and,
+frankly, even prying around."
+
+Cliff grunted.
+
+Ostrander went on. "I've also read the various press releases,
+manifestoes and so forth that your assistants have been compiling."
+
+"We know," Homer said. "We haven't put any obstacles in your way. We
+haven't any particular secrets, Mr. Ostrander."
+
+"You disguise the fact that you are an American," the C.I.A. man said
+accusingly.
+
+Homer said slowly, "Only because El Hassan _is not_ an American, Mr.
+Ostrander. He is an African with African solutions to African
+problems. That is what he must be if he is to accomplish his task."
+
+Ostrander seemed to switch subjects. "See here, Crawford, the State
+Department is not completely opposed to the goal of uniting North
+Africa. It would solve many problems, both African and international."
+
+Kenny Ballalou laughed softly. "You mean, you're on our side?"
+
+Ostrander turned to him, for once not incensed at being needled.
+"Possibly more than you'd think," he rapped. He turned back again to
+Homer Crawford. "The question becomes, why do you think that _you_ are
+the man for the job? Who gave _you_ the go-ahead?"
+
+Bey, who had settled down into a folding camp chair, now came to his
+feet, his tired face angry.
+
+But Homer waved him to silence. "Hold it," he said. Then to Ostrander.
+"It doesn't work that way. It's not something you decide to do because
+you're thirsty for power, or greedy for money. You're pushed into it.
+Do you think Washington, a retired Virginian planter wrapped up in his
+estate and his family, wanted to spend years leading the revolutionary
+armies through the wilderness that was America in those days? He was
+thrust into the job, there was no one else more competent to take it.
+Men make the times, Ostrander, but the times also make the men. Look
+at Lenin and Trotsky. Three months before the October Revolution,
+Lenin wrote that he never expected to see in his lifetime the
+Bolsheviks come to power. Within those months he was at the head of
+government and Trotsky, a former bookworm who had never fired a gun in
+his life, was head of the Red Army and being proclaimed a military
+genius."
+
+Ostrander was scowling at him, but his face was thoughtful.
+
+Homer said quietly, "It's not always an easy thing, to have power thrust
+into your hands. Not always a desirable thing." His voice went quieter
+still. "Only a short time ago it led me to the necessity of ...
+killing ... my best friend."
+
+"And mine," Isobel said softly, almost under her breath.
+
+Dave Moroka said, "Abe Baker," before he caught himself.
+
+Kenny Ballalou looked at him strangely. "Did you know Abe?"
+
+The South African recovered. "I've heard several of you mention him
+from time to time. He was a commie, wasn't he?"
+
+"Yes," Homer said without inflection. "And a man. He saved my life on
+more than one occasion. As long as we worked together with only Africa
+in mind, there was no conflict. But Abe had a further, and, to him,
+greater alliance."
+
+He turned his attention back to the C.I.A. man. "A man does what he
+must do," he finished simply. "I did not ask to become El Hassan."
+
+Ostrander said, "Your motivation is possibly beside the point. The
+thing is that the battle for men's minds continues and your program,
+eventually, must align with the West."
+
+"And get clobbered in the stampeding around between the two great
+powers," Kenny said dryly.
+
+"You've got to take your stand," Ostrander said. "I'd rather die under
+the neutron bomb, than spend the rest of my life on my knees under a
+Soviet Complex government. Wouldn't you?" His eyes went from one of
+them to the other, defiantly.
+
+Homer said slowly. "No, even though that was the only alternative,
+which is unlikely. Not if it meant finishing off the whole human race
+at the same time." He shook his head. "If it were only me, it might be
+different. But if it was a matter of nuclear war the whole race might
+well end. Given such circumstances, I'd be proud to remain on my
+knees the rest of my life. You see, Ostrander, you make the mistake of
+thinking the Soviet socio-economic system is a permanent thing. It
+isn't. It's changing daily, even as our own socio-economic system is.
+Even if the Soviet Complex were to dominate the whole world, it would
+be but a temporary phase in man's history. Their regime, in its time,
+right or wrong, will go under in man's march to whatever his destiny
+might be. Some day it will be only a memory, and so will the
+socio-economic systems of the West. No institutions are less permanent
+than politico-economic ones."
+
+"I don't agree with you," Ostrander snapped.
+
+"Obviously," Homer shrugged. "However, this is another problem. El
+Hassan deals with North Africa. The other problems you bring up we
+admit, but at this stage are not dealing with them. Our dream is in
+Africa. Perhaps the Africans will be forced to taking other stands, to
+dreaming new dreams, twenty or thirty years from now. When that time
+comes, I assume the new problems will be faced. By that time there
+will probably be no need for El Hassan."
+
+Ostrander looked at him and bit his lip in thought.
+
+It came to him now that he had never won in his contests with Homer
+Crawford, and that he would probably never win. No matter how strong
+his convictions, in the presence of the other man, something went out
+of him. There was strength in Crawford that must be experienced to be
+understood. When he talked, he held you, and your own opinions became
+nothing--stupidities on your lips. He had a dream, and in conversation
+with him, all other things dropped away and nothing was of importance
+but that dream. A dream? Possibly _disease_ was the better word. And
+so highly contagious.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+While they talked, an aide had entered and handed a report to
+Bey-ag-Akhamouk. He read it and closed his eyes in weariness.
+
+"What's up, Bey," Homer asked.
+
+"I don't know. Colonel Ibrahim has stepped up his attacks in all
+directions. At least two thirds of his force is on the offensive. It
+doesn't make much sense. But it must make sense to _him_, or he
+wouldn't be doing it."
+
+Ostrander said, and to everyone's surprise there seemed to be an
+element of worry in his voice too, "I know Colonel Midan Ibrahim, met
+him in Cairo and in Baghdad on various occasions. He's considered one
+of the best men in the Arab Legion. He doesn't make military
+blunders."
+
+Bey said, "Come on, Kenny. Let's round up Guemama and take a look at
+the front." He led the way from the tent.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+There was a guard posted before the tent which doubled as press and
+communications center, and the private quarters of David Moroka.
+
+The figure that approached timidly was garbed in the traditional
+clothing of the young women of the Tegehe Mellet tribe of the Tuareg
+and bore an _imzad_ in her left hand, while her right held a corner of
+her gandoura over her face.
+
+The guard, of the Kel Rela tribe, eyed the one-stringed violin with
+its string of hair and sounding box made of half a gourd covered with
+a thin membrane of skin, and grinned. A Tuareg maid was accustomed to
+sing and to make the high whining tones of desert music on the _imzad_
+before submitting to her lover's embrace. _Wallahi!_ but these women
+of the Tegehe Mellet were shameless.
+
+"Where do you go?" he said gruffly. "El Hassan's vizier has ordered
+that he is occupied and none should approach."
+
+"He awaits me," she wavered. There was _kohl_ about her eyes, and
+indigo at the corners of her mouth. "We met at the _tendi_ last night
+and he bid me come to his tent. It is for me he waits."
+
+_Wallahi!_ but his leader had taste, the sentry decided.
+
+"Pass," he said gruffly. Even a vizier of such importance as this one
+must need solace at times, he decided philosophically.
+
+She slipped past silently to the tent entrance where the Tuareg guard
+noticed she paused for a long moment before entering. He grinned into
+his teguelmoust. Aiii, the little bird was timid before the hawk.
+
+She stood for a moment listening, and then slipped inside, dropping
+the desert musical instrument to the ground. Dave Moroka's back was to
+her and even as she entered he flicked off the switch of the
+video-radio into which he had been speaking and scowled at it.
+
+When he stood and began to turn, she covered him with the small pocket
+pistol. She had an ease in handling it which denoted competence.
+
+His eyebrows went up, but he remained silent, waiting for her gambit.
+
+Isobel said evenly, "You're a Party member, aren't you, Dave?"
+
+"Why do you say that?"
+
+She nodded infinitesimally to the set. "You were reporting just now. I
+heard enough just as I came in."
+
+He took in her disguise. "My guard isn't as efficient as I had
+thought," Dave said wryly.
+
+Isobel said, "You knew Abe Baker, didn't you?"
+
+He looked at her, expressionlessly.
+
+She said, "I already knew you belonged to the Party, Dave. No matter
+how competent an agent, it's something difficult to hide from any
+other long-time member. There's a terminology you use--such as calling
+it the Soviet Union, rather than Russia. No commie ever says Russia,
+it's always _the Soviet Union_. You can tell, just as a Roman Catholic
+can tell a person raised in the Church, even though the other has
+dropped away, or even as one Jew can tell another. Yes, I've known
+you were a Party member for some time, Dave."
+
+"And?" the South African said.
+
+"Why are you here?"
+
+Dave Moroka said, "For the same reason you are, to further the El
+Hassan dream, the uniting and modernization of the continent of my
+racial heritage."
+
+"But you are still a Party member and still report to your superiors."
+
+Dave Moroka looked at the tiny gun she held in her hand.
+
+"Don't try it," she said. "I have seen you in action, Dave. I have
+never seen a man move so ruthlessly fast ... but don't try it."
+
+"No reason to," he bit out. "Come on, let's go see Homer."
+
+She was slightly taken aback, but not enough to release her control
+for even a split second. "Lead the way," she said.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Even at this time of evening, the headquarters tent was brightly lit
+and most of the immediate El Hassan staff still at work. Homer
+Crawford looked up as they entered.
+
+Cliff Jackson saw the gun first and said, "Holy Mackerel, Isobel."
+
+Fredric Ostrander was sitting to one side in discussion with the sober
+faced Jack Peters. He took in the gun and slowly came to his feet,
+obviously expecting climax.
+
+Isobel said, "Dave's taking over control of communications had method.
+I just found him reporting to what must have been a superior ... in
+the Party."
+
+Homer Crawford looked from the South African to Isobel, then back to
+Dave again, without speaking. His eyes were questioning.
+
+Dave said, his voice sharp. "I haven't time for details now. Isobel's
+right. I was a Party member."
+
+"Was?" Ostrander chuckled. "That's the understatement of the year. I
+hadn't got around to revealing the fact as yet, but our friend Dave is
+the notorious Anton, one of the Soviet Complex's most competent
+hatchetmen."
+
+Dave looked at him only briefly. "Was," he reiterated. He turned his
+attention to Homer and to Bey, who was staring tired dismay at this
+new addition to the load.
+
+Homer still held his peace, waiting for the other to go on.
+
+"I found out tonight why Colonel Ibrahim is attacking, instead of
+pulling in his horns as reason would dictate." Dave paused for
+emphasis. "The Soviet Complex has thrown its weight, in this matter at
+least, on the side of the Arab Union. They have insisted that Sven
+Zetterberg be dismissed as head of the Sahara Division of the African
+Development Project and that his threat to use Reunited Nations
+aircraft if the local fighting spreads to the air, be repudiated."
+
+Kenny blurted, "Good grief ... that means--"
+
+Dave looked around at them, one by one. "It means," he said, "that the
+Arab Legion is going to be reinforced tomorrow morning by a full
+regiment of paratroopers."
+
+"Holy Mackerel," Cliff groaned. "We've had it. Another regiment of
+crack troops in Tamanrasset and we'll _never_ take the town."
+
+Dave shook his head. "That's not the big thing. The paratroopers
+aren't going to drop in Tamanrasset. They're going to hit every oasis,
+every water hole, in a circumference of two hundred miles."
+
+There was an empty silence.
+
+Homer Crawford said finally, evenly, "In the expectation that every
+follower of El Hassan in the Sahara will either surrender or die of
+thirst, eh?" He didn't seem sufficiently impressed by the threatening
+disaster. He looked at Dave questioningly. "Why do you bother to tell
+us, Dave, if you're on the other side?"
+
+Dave grunted sour amusement. "Because I've just become a full member
+of the team. I resigned from the Party tonight."
+
+"Brother," Bey said, "you sure pick a helluva time to join up." He
+obviously was expressing the opinions of the majority.
+
+Homer Crawford came to his feet and looked around at them. "All
+right," he said. "A new complication. Let's face up to it. There's
+always an answer. We're in the clutch, let's fight our way out."
+
+Largely, they stared at him, but he ignored their dismay. He looked
+from one to the other. "We need some ideas. Let's kick it around.
+Isobel, Cliff, Jack, Kenny--?" His eyes went from one to the other.
+Obviously his own mind was churning.
+
+They shook their heads dumbly.
+
+Kenny said, "Ideas! We've had it, Homer!"
+
+Homer Crawford spun on him and now the force they all knew was
+emanating from him. He laughed his scorn. "A month ago we were half a
+dozen fugitives. Now we're an army besieging a city. And you say we've
+had it? Listen, Kenny, if we have to we'll go back to being half a
+dozen fugitives again--those of us that are left. But the dream goes
+on! However, we're not going to have to. We're too near victory in
+this stage of the operation to sit down on the job because of a
+threatened reverse. Now then, let's kick it around. Jimmy! Dave!
+Kenny! Ostrander!"
+
+Fredric Ostrander raised his eyebrows only slightly at being included
+in their number.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Bey, for once, was seemingly too exhausted to be brought to new
+enthusiasm. He tossed a detail map of Tamanrasset to the table. "And
+I'd just worked out a bang-up scheme for infiltrating into town,
+joining up with our adherents there, and seizing it while most of
+Ibrahim's men were out in the desert, trying to capture our nearer
+water holes."
+
+Homer snapped, "It sounds like it still might have possibilities."
+
+Ostrander looked down at the map, his face very tight. "How long would
+it take?"
+
+Bey scowled at him, defeat dulling his mind. "What?"
+
+"How long do you figure it would take to infiltrate Tamanrasset and
+capture it? Behind Ibrahim's back, so to speak."
+
+Bey grunted. "A couple of hours in the early morning. I had a
+beautiful picture of the colonel's armor out in the desert, cut off
+from its petroleum supplies and ammunition dump while we held the
+town. Some of our men, the former veterans of the French West African
+forces, could have even operated the antitank guns he has mounted at
+Fort Laperrine."
+
+The C.I.A. man's mouth worked.
+
+Homer Crawford's eyes pierced him.
+
+Ostrander walked over to the radio before which Kenny Ballalou sat.
+"See if you can raise Colonel Ibrahim for me."
+
+Kenny scowled at him. "Why?"
+
+"Do it."
+
+Kenny looked at Homer Crawford.
+
+Homer said, "O.K. Do it."
+
+Kenny shrugged and turned to the set. While the others watched,
+Crawford's face alert, his eyes narrowed, the rest of them dull in
+apathy, the face of Colonel Ibrahim finally faded in on the screen.
+
+Fredric Ostrander took his place at the instrument. He nodded,
+formally. "Greetings, Colonel, it seems a long time since last we met
+in Amman."
+
+The Arab Legion officer smiled politely. "I had heard that you
+represented the State Department in this area, Mr. Ostrander, and have
+been somewhat surprised that you failed to make Tamanrasset your
+headquarters. It would have been pleasant to have renewed old
+friendship."
+
+Ostrander cleared his throat. "I am afraid that would have been
+difficult, Colonel, particularly in view of the stand of my government
+at this time."
+
+On the screen, the other's eyebrows went up.
+
+Ostrander said evenly, "Colonel, we have just been informed that a
+regiment of paratroopers has been put at your disposal and that they
+plan to land at various points in the Sahara in the morning."
+
+The colonel said stiffly, "This is military information which I am not
+free to discuss, Mr. Ostrander."
+
+Frederic Ostrander went on, his voice still even. "We have further
+been informed that the Reunited Nations has withdrawn its ban on
+aircraft, which would seem to free your paratroop carrying planes."
+
+The colonel remained silent, waiting for the bombshell. It was obvious
+that he expected a bombshell.
+
+Ostrander said, "As representative of the State Department I warn you
+that if these paratroop carrying planes take off tomorrow morning, the
+Seventh Airfleet of the United States of the Americas will enter the
+conflict on the side of El Hassan. Good evening, Colonel."
+
+The C.I.A. man reached out and flicked the switch that killed the set.
+Then he took the snowy white handkerchief from the breast pocket of
+his jacket and wiped his mouth.
+
+Isobel said, "Heavens to Betsy."
+
+Kenny said indignantly, "Good grief, you fool, it won't take more than
+hours for your superiors to repudiate you. Then what happens?"
+
+"By then, I assume, the battle will be over and Tamanrasset in El
+Hassan's hands. The Arab Union will then think twice before committing
+their paratroopers, particularly with captured armor in El Hassan's
+hands."
+
+"And your name will be mud," Kenny blurted.
+
+Ostrander looked at Homer Crawford. "Gentlemen, you must remember that
+I, too, am an African. I had thought that perhaps there would be a
+position for me on El Hassan's staff."
+
+Crawford reached for the Tommy-Noiseless that leaned up against the
+improvised desk at which he worked. He said, "Let's get moving, Bey.
+We haven't much time. We're going to have to be able to announce its
+capture _from_ Tamanrasset in a couple of hours."
+
+"Not you," Bey said, grabbing up his own weapon and motioning with his
+head for Kenny and Cliff to come along. "You're El Hassan and can't be
+risked."
+
+"I'm coming," Homer said flatly. "It's about time El Hassan began
+taking some of the same risks his followers seem to be willing to
+face. Besides, the men will fight better with me out in front. Got a
+gun, Fred?"
+
+Ostrander said, "No. Where am I issued one?"
+
+"I'll show you," Homer said, stuffing extra clips in his bush jacket
+pockets. "Come on, Dave."
+
+The whole group began heading for the open air, Bey already yelling
+orders.
+
+Fredric Ostrander looked at Dave Moroka. "Strange bedfellows," he
+said.
+
+Moroka grinned wryly. "My long view hasn't changed," he said. "It's
+just that this African matter takes precedence right now."
+
+"Nor mine, of course," Ostrander said. He cleared his throat.
+"However, I hope you last out the night. El Hassan needs strong men."
+
+"Same to you," Moroka said gruffly. "Let's get going, or the fight
+will be over while we hand each other flowers."
+
+
+_Epilogue_
+
+El Hassan stood in the smoking, war-wasted ruin of Fort Laperine, his
+mind empty. The body of Jack Peters was ten feet to his left, burned
+beyond recognition and crumpled over a flame thrower which he'd
+eliminated in the last few moments of the fighting. Had he let his
+eyes go out the gun port before which he stood, it might have been
+possible for El Hassan to have picked out the bodies of David Moroka
+and Fredric Ostrander amidst those of the several hundred Haratin
+serfs who had swarmed out of the souk area at the crucial moment and
+stormed the half manned fort--unarmed save for knives and farm
+implements.
+
+To his right, Dr. Warren Harding Smythe supervised two Tuareg who were
+carrying off the broken body of Kenny Ballalou; there was still faint
+life in it.
+
+The doctor looked at him. "You are satisfied, I assume?"
+
+El Hassan failed to hear him.
+
+Smythe turned and stomped off, following his impressed nurses.
+
+In the distance, Bey-ag-Akhamouk called hoarse orders from an
+over-strained throat, placing guns for a counterattack that would
+never come. The Arab Legion was broken and Colonel Ibrahim a prisoner.
+Large numbers of the survivors were defecting to the banner of El
+Hassan.
+
+He threw his empty Tommy-Noiseless to the side. All he wanted now was
+sleep, the surcease of a few hours of oblivion.
+
+Isobel, her face wan from the horror of the agony of the combat whose
+result was everywhere visible, was picking her way through the
+wreckage with Cliff Jackson.
+
+El Hassan looked at her absently. Whatever message she bore held
+little interest to him.
+
+Cliff said, "India has recognized El Hassan as legal head of state of
+all North Africa. It is expected that Australia will follow before the
+week is out."
+
+El Hassan nodded. For the time, not caring.
+
+Isobel said, "We have other word. It came by messenger." She closed
+her eyes in pain and handed him a small box.
+
+He opened it and recognized the ring on the enclosed finger. He looked
+up at them.
+
+Cliff Jackson growled low in his throat. "Elmer Allen. He's been
+captured by a leader of the Ouled Touameur clan of the Ouled Allouch
+tribe. You know this Abd-el-Kader?"
+
+El Hassan was staring down at the finger, his mind slowly clearing of
+its fatigue. "He belongs to the Berazga division of the Chaambra
+confederation. I had a run-in with him a few months ago and had him
+jailed. He's nothing but a desert bandit on the make."
+
+Cliff said, "He's escaped, has thrown his weight behind the Arab
+Union, proclaimed himself the Mahdi and is uniting Algeria and parts
+of Morocco and Tunisia like a wildfire. The marabouts and Shorfa are
+backing him."
+
+"Proclaimed himself the Mahdi?" Isobel said in question.
+
+El Hassan turned to the girl and took a deep breath. "The original
+Mahdi was the holiest prophet since Mohammed and according to the more
+superstitious Moslems, he's still alive. According to Islamic
+tradition, he periodically shows up again in the desert and makes
+various predictions. When he does, it almost always winds up with a
+jihad, a holy war. Don't you remember in history the anti-British
+Mahdi at Khartoum, the killing of Chinese Gordon and so forth? That
+Mahdi was the son of a Dongola carpenter and he managed to conquer two
+million square miles in two years."
+
+"But, what has this got to do with this Abd-el-Kader?"
+
+"He's evidently proclaimed himself sort of a reincarnation of the
+original Mahdi. He's out to do the same thing we are--to unite North
+Africa. But in his case he doesn't exactly have the same dream and
+he's working under the green ensign of the Pan-Islamic Arab Union."
+
+"And has Elmer Allen captive."
+
+"Yes, he has Elmer." El Hassan's tone of voice turned sharp. "Cliff,
+go get Bey. Tell him we're forming a flying column and heading north."
+
+Cliff was gone. El Hassan turned back to the girl. "You know, Isobel,"
+he said softly, slowly, "in history there is no happy ending, ever.
+There is no ending at all. It goes from one crisis to another, but
+there is no ending."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's Border, Breed Nor Birth, by Dallas McCord Reynolds
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BORDER, BREED NOR BIRTH ***
+
+***** This file should be named 30639.txt or 30639.zip *****
+This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:
+        http://www.gutenberg.org/3/0/6/3/30639/
+
+Produced by Sankar Viswanathan, Greg Weeks, and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions
+will be renamed.
+
+Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no
+one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation
+(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without
+permission and without paying copyright royalties.  Special rules,
+set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to
+copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to
+protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark.  Project
+Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you
+charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission.  If you
+do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the
+rules is very easy.  You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose
+such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and
+research.  They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do
+practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks.  Redistribution is
+subject to the trademark license, especially commercial
+redistribution.
+
+
+
+*** START: FULL LICENSE ***
+
+THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE
+PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK
+
+To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free
+distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work
+(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at
+http://gutenberg.org/license).
+
+
+Section 1.  General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic works
+
+1.A.  By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to
+and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property
+(trademark/copyright) agreement.  If you do not agree to abide by all
+the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy
+all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession.
+If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the
+terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or
+entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8.
+
+1.B.  "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark.  It may only be
+used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who
+agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement.  There are a few
+things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
+even without complying with the full terms of this agreement.  See
+paragraph 1.C below.  There are a lot of things you can do with Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement
+and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.  See paragraph 1.E below.
+
+1.C.  The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation"
+or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works.  Nearly all the individual works in the
+collection are in the public domain in the United States.  If an
+individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are
+located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from
+copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative
+works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg
+are removed.  Of course, we hope that you will support the Project
+Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by
+freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of
+this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with
+the work.  You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by
+keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others.
+
+1.D.  The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern
+what you can do with this work.  Copyright laws in most countries are in
+a constant state of change.  If you are outside the United States, check
+the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement
+before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or
+creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project
+Gutenberg-tm work.  The Foundation makes no representations concerning
+the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United
+States.
+
+1.E.  Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:
+
+1.E.1.  The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate
+access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently
+whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the
+phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed,
+copied or distributed:
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+1.E.2.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived
+from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is
+posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied
+and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees
+or charges.  If you are redistributing or providing access to a work
+with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the
+work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1
+through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the
+Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or
+1.E.9.
+
+1.E.3.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted
+with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution
+must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional
+terms imposed by the copyright holder.  Additional terms will be linked
+to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the
+permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work.
+
+1.E.4.  Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this
+work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm.
+
+1.E.5.  Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this
+electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without
+prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with
+active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm License.
+
+1.E.6.  You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary,
+compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any
+word processing or hypertext form.  However, if you provide access to or
+distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than
+"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version
+posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org),
+you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a
+copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon
+request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other
+form.  Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.
+
+1.E.7.  Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying,
+performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works
+unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
+
+1.E.8.  You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing
+access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided
+that
+
+- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from
+     the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method
+     you already use to calculate your applicable taxes.  The fee is
+     owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he
+     has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the
+     Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation.  Royalty payments
+     must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you
+     prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax
+     returns.  Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and
+     sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the
+     address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to
+     the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation."
+
+- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies
+     you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he
+     does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+     License.  You must require such a user to return or
+     destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium
+     and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of
+     Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any
+     money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
+     electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days
+     of receipt of the work.
+
+- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free
+     distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+1.E.9.  If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set
+forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from
+both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael
+Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark.  Contact the
+Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below.
+
+1.F.
+
+1.F.1.  Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable
+effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread
+public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm
+collection.  Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain
+"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or
+corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual
+property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a
+computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by
+your equipment.
+
+1.F.2.  LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right
+of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all
+liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal
+fees.  YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT
+LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE
+PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3.  YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE
+TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE
+LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR
+INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH
+DAMAGE.
+
+1.F.3.  LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a
+defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can
+receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a
+written explanation to the person you received the work from.  If you
+received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with
+your written explanation.  The person or entity that provided you with
+the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a
+refund.  If you received the work electronically, the person or entity
+providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to
+receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund.  If the second copy
+is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further
+opportunities to fix the problem.
+
+1.F.4.  Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth
+in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER
+WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO
+WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.
+
+1.F.5.  Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied
+warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages.
+If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the
+law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be
+interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by
+the applicable state law.  The invalidity or unenforceability of any
+provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions.
+
+1.F.6.  INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the
+trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone
+providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance
+with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production,
+promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works,
+harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees,
+that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do
+or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm
+work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any
+Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause.
+
+
+Section  2.  Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of
+electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers
+including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers.  It exists
+because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from
+people in all walks of life.
+
+Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the
+assistance they need, are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's
+goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will
+remain freely available for generations to come.  In 2001, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure
+and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations.
+To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation
+and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4
+and the Foundation web page at http://www.pglaf.org.
+
+
+Section 3.  Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive
+Foundation
+
+The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit
+501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the
+state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal
+Revenue Service.  The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification
+number is 64-6221541.  Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at
+http://pglaf.org/fundraising.  Contributions to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent
+permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws.
+
+The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S.
+Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered
+throughout numerous locations.  Its business office is located at
+809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email
+business@pglaf.org.  Email contact links and up to date contact
+information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official
+page at http://pglaf.org
+
+For additional contact information:
+     Dr. Gregory B. Newby
+     Chief Executive and Director
+     gbnewby@pglaf.org
+
+
+Section 4.  Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide
+spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of
+increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be
+freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest
+array of equipment including outdated equipment.  Many small donations
+($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt
+status with the IRS.
+
+The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating
+charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United
+States.  Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a
+considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up
+with these requirements.  We do not solicit donations in locations
+where we have not received written confirmation of compliance.  To
+SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any
+particular state visit http://pglaf.org
+
+While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we
+have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition
+against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who
+approach us with offers to donate.
+
+International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make
+any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from
+outside the United States.  U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.
+
+Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation
+methods and addresses.  Donations are accepted in a number of other
+ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations.
+To donate, please visit: http://pglaf.org/donate
+
+
+Section 5.  General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.
+
+Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm
+concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared
+with anyone.  For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project
+Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support.
+
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed
+editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S.
+unless a copyright notice is included.  Thus, we do not necessarily
+keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition.
+
+
+Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility:
+
+     http://www.gutenberg.org
+
+This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm,
+including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary
+Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to
+subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.