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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..241771e --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #51799 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/51799) diff --git a/old/51799-8.txt b/old/51799-8.txt deleted file mode 100644 index a3e5270..0000000 --- a/old/51799-8.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,1826 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Farmer, by Mack 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/license - - -Title: Farmer - -Author: Mack Reynolds - -Release Date: April 19, 2016 [EBook #51799] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FARMER *** - - - - -Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - - - - - - - - - - - FARMER - - By MACK REYNOLDS - - Illustrated by RITTER - - [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from - Galaxy Magazine June 1961. - Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that - the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] - - - - - Someone out there didn't like trees. - He wanted to wreck the Sahara Project--and - he was willing to murder in the process! - - -I - -One of the auto-copters swooped in and landed. Johnny McCord emptied -his pipe into the wastebasket, came to his feet and strolled toward the -open door. He automatically took up a sun helmet before emerging into -the Saharan sun. - -He was dressed in khaki shorts and short-sleeved shirt, wool socks and -yellow Moroccan babouche slippers. - -The slippers were strictly out of uniform and would have been frowned -upon by Johnny's immediate superiors. However, the Arabs had been -making footwear suitable for sandy terrain for centuries before there -had ever been a Sahara Reforestation Commission. Johnny was in favor -of taking advantage of their know-how. Especially since the top brass -made a point of staying in the swank air-conditioned buildings of -Colomb-Bechar, Tamanrasset and Timbuktu, from whence they issued -lengthy bulletins on the necessity of never allowing a Malian to see -a Commission employee in less than the correct dress and in less than -commanding dignity. While they were busily at work composing such -directives, field men such as Johnny McCord went about the Commission's -real tasks. - -It was auto-copter 4, which Johnny hadn't expected for another half -hour. He extracted the reports and then peered into the cockpit to -check. There were two red lights flickering on the panel. Work for -Reuben. This damned sand was a perpetual hazard to equipment. Number 4 -had just had an overhaul a few weeks before and here it was throwing -red lights already. - -He took the reports back into the office and dumped them into the -card-punch. While they were being set up, Johnny went over to the -office refrigerator and got out a can of Tuborg beer. Theoretically, it -was as taboo to drink iced beer in this climate, and particularly at -this time of day, as it was to go out into the sun without a hat. But -this was one place where the Commission's medics could go blow. - -By the time he'd finished the Danish brew, the card-punch had stopped -clattering so he took the cards from the hopper and crossed to the -sorter. He gave them a quick joggling--cards held up well in this dry -climate, though they were a terror further south--and sorted them -through four code numbers, enough for this small an amount. He carried -them over to the collator and merged them into the proper file. - -He was still running off a report on the Alphabetyper when Derek Mason -came in. - -Johnny drawled in a horrible caricature of a New England accent, "I -say, Si, did the cyclone hurt your barn any?" - -Derek's voice took on the same twang. "Don't know, Hiram, we ain't -found it yet." - -Johnny said, "You get all your chores done, Si?" - -Derek dropped the pseudo-twang and his voice expressed disgust. "I got -a chore for you Johnny, that you're going to love. Rounding up some -livestock." - -Johnny looked up from the report he was running off and shot an -impatient glance at him. "Livestock? What the hell are you talking -about?" - -"Goats." - -Johnny McCord flicked the stop button on the Alphabetyper. "Where've -you been? There isn't a goat within five hundred miles of here." - -Derek went over to the refrigerator for beer. He said over his -shoulder, "I was just making a routine patrol over toward Amérene -El Kasbach. I'd estimate there were a hundred Tuareg in camp there. -Camels, a few sheep, a few horses and donkeys. Mostly goats. Thousands -of them. By the looks of the transplants, they've been there possibly -a week or so." - - * * * * * - -Johnny said in agony, "Oh, Lord. What clan were they?" - -Derek punched a hole in his beer can with the opener that hung from the -refrigerator by a string. "I didn't go low enough to check. You can -never tell with a Tuareg. They can't resist as beautiful a target as a -helicopter, and one of these days one of them is going to make a hole -in me, instead of in the fuselage or rotors." - -Johnny McCord, furious, plunked himself down before the telephone and -dialed Tessalit, 275 kilometers to the south. The girl on the desk -there grinned at him and said, "Hello, Johnny." - -Johnny McCord was in no mood for pleasantries. He snapped, "Who's -supposed to be on Bedouin patrol down there?" - -She blinked at him. "Why, Mohammed is in command of patrolling this -area, Mr. McCord." - -"Mohammed? Mohammed who? Eighty percent of these Malians are named -Mohammed." - -"Captain Mohammed Mohmoud ould Cheikh." She added, unnecessarily, "The -Cadi's son." - -Johnny grunted. He'd always suspected that the captain had got his -ideas of what a cadi's son should be like from seeing Hollywood movies. -"Look, Kate," he said. "Let me talk to Mellor, will you?" - -Her face faded to be replaced by that of a highly tanned, -middle-aged executive type. He scowled at Johnny McCord with a -this-better-be-important expression, not helping Johnny's disposition. - -He snapped, "Somebody's let several thousand goats into my eucalyptus -transplants in my western four hundred." - -Mellor was taken aback. - -Johnny said, "I can have Derek back-trail them, if you want to be sure, -but it's almost positive they came from the south, this time of year." - -Mellor sputtered, "They might have come from the direction of -Timmissao. Who are they, anyway?" - -"I don't know. Tuareg. I thought we'd supposedly settled with all the -Tuareg. Good Lord, man, do you know how many transplants a thousand -goats can go through in a week's time?" - -"A week's time!" Mellor rasped. "You mean you've taken a whole week to -detect them?" - -Johnny McCord glared at him. "A _whole_ week! We're lucky they didn't -spend the whole _season_ before we found them. How big a staff do you -think we have here, Mellor? There's just three of us. Only one can be -spared for patrol." - -"You have natives," the older man growled. - -"They can't fly helicopters. Most of them can't even drive a Land Rover -or a jeep. Besides that, they're scared to death of Tuaregs. They -wouldn't dare report them. What I want to know is, why didn't you stop -them coming through?" - -Mellor was on the defensive. He ranked Johnny McCord, but that was -beside the point right now. He said finally, "I'll check this all the -way through, McCord. Meanwhile, I'll send young Mohammed Mohmoud up -with a group of his men." - -"To do what?" Johnny demanded. - -"To shoot the goats, what else?" - - * * * * * - -Johnny growled, "One of these days a bunch of these Tuareg are going to -decide that a lynching bee is in order, and that's going to be the end -of this little base at Bidon Cinq." - -Mellor said, "If they're Tuareg nomads then they have no legal right -to be within several hundred miles of Bidon Cinq. And if they've got -goats, they shouldn't have. The Commission has bought up every goat in -this part of the world." - -Johnny growled, "Sure, bought them up and then left it to the honor of -the Tuareg to destroy them. The honor of the Tuareg! Ha!" - -The other said pompously, "Are you criticizing the upper echelons, -McCord?" - -Johnny McCord snapped, "You're damned right I am." He slammed off the -telephone and turned on Derek Mason. "What are you grinning about?" - -Derek drawled, "I say, Hiram, I got a sneaky suspicion you ain't never -gonna graduate off'n this here farm if you don't learn how to cotton up -to the city slickers better." - -"Oh, shut up," Johnny growled. "Let's have another beer." - -Before Derek could bring it to him, the telephone screen lit up again -and Paul Peterson, of the Poste Weygand base, was there. He said, "Hi. -You guys look like you're having a crisis." - -"Hello, Paul," Johnny McCord said. "Crisis is right. Those jerks down -south let a clan of Tuareg, complete with a few thousand goats, camels -and sheep through. They've been grazing a week or more in my west four -hundred." - -"Good grief." Paul grimaced. "At least that's one thing we don't have -to worry about. They never get this far up. How'd it happen?" - -"I don't know, but I'm going to find out. I haven't seen the mess yet, -but it's certain to wreck that whole four hundred. Have you ever seen -just one goat at work on the bark of three-year transplants?" - -Paul shuddered sympathetically. "Look, Johnny," he said. "The reason I -called you. There's an air-cushion Land Rover coming through. She just -left." - -Derek Mason looked over Johnny's shoulder into the screen. "What d'ya -mean, _she_?" - -Paul grinned. "Just that, and, Buster, she's stacked. A Mademoiselle -Hélène Desage of _Paris Match_." - -Johnny said, "The French magazine? What's she doing in a road car? Why -doesn't she have an aircraft? There hasn't been a road car through here -this whole year." - -Paul shrugged. "She claims she's getting it from the viewpoint of how -things must've been twenty years ago. So, anyway, we've notified you. -If she doesn't turn up in eight or ten hours, you better send somebody -to look for her." - -"Yeah," Johnny McCord said. "Well, so long, Paul." - -The other's face faded from the screen and Johnny McCord turned to his -colleague. "One more extraneous something to foul up our schedule." - -Derek said mildly, "I say, Hiram, what're you complaining about? Didn't -you hear tell what Paul just said? She's stacked. Be just like a -traveling saleswoman visitin' the farm." - -"Yeah," Johnny growled. "And I can see just how much work I'll be -getting out of you as long as she's here." - - -II - -Poste Maurice Cortier, better known in the Sahara as Bidon Cinq, is as -remote a spot on earth in which man has ever lived. Some 750 kilometers -to the south is Bourem on the Niger river. If you go west of Bourem -another 363 kilometers, you reach Timbuktu, the nearest thing to a -city in that part of the Sudan. If you travel north from Bidon Cinq -1,229 kilometers you reach Colomb-Béchar, the nearest thing to a city -in southern Algeria. There are no railroads, no highways. The track -through the desert is marked by oil drums filled with gravel so the -wind won't blow them away. There is an oil drum every quarter of a mile -or so. You go from one to the next, carrying your own fuel and water. -If you get lost, the authorities come looking for you in aircraft. -Sometimes they find you. - -In the latter decades of the Twentieth Century, Bidon Cinq became -an outpost of the Sahara Reforestation Commission which was working -north from the Niger, and south from Algeria as well as east from -the Atlantic. The water table in the vicinity of Bidon Cinq was -considerably higher than had once been thought. Even artesian wells -were possible in some localities. More practical still were springs and -wells exploited by the new solar-powered pumps that in their tens of -thousands were driving back the sands of the world's largest desert. - -Johnny McCord and Derek Mason ate in the officer's mess, divorced from -the forty or fifty Arabs and Songhai who composed their work force. It -wasn't snobbery, simply a matter of being able to eat in leisure and -discuss the day's activities free of the chatter of the larger mess -hall. - -Derek looked down into his plate. "Hiram," he drawled, "who ever -invented this here _cous cous_?" - -Johnny looked over at the tall, easy-going Canadian who was his second -in command and scowled dourly. He was in no humor for their usual -banter. "What's the matter with _cous cous_?" Johnny growled. - -"I don't know," Derek said. "I'm a meat and potatoes man at heart." - -Johnny shrugged. "_Cous cous_ serves the same purpose as potatoes do. -Or rice, or spaghetti, or bread, or any of the other bland basic -foods. It's what you put on it that counts." - -Derek stared gloomily into his dish. "Well, I wish they'd get something -more interesting than ten-year-old mutton to put on this." - -Johnny said, "Where in the devil is Pierre? It's nearly dark." - -"Reuben?" Derek drawled. "Why Reuben went out to check the crops up in -the northeast forty. Took the horse and buggy." - -That didn't help Johnny's irritation. "He took an air-cushion jeep, -instead of a copter? Why, for heaven's sake?" - -"He wanted to check quite a few of the pumps. Said landing and taking -off was more trouble than the extra speed helped. He'll be back -shortly." - -"He's back now," a voice from the door said. - -Pierre Marimbert, brushing sand from his clothes, pushed into the room -and made his way to the mess-hall refrigerator. He said nothing further -until he had a can of beer open. - -Johnny said, "Damn it, Pierre, you shouldn't stay out this late in a -jeep. If you got stuck out there, we'd have one hell of a time finding -you. In a copter you've at least got the radio." - -Pierre had washed the dust from his throat. Now he said quietly, "I -wanted to check on as many pumps as I could." - -"You could have gone back tomorrow. The things are supposed to be -self-sufficient, no checking necessary more than once every three -months. There's practically nothing that can go wrong with them." - -Pierre finished off the can of beer, reached into the refrigerator for -another. "Dynamite can go wrong with them," he said. - - * * * * * - -The other two looked at him, shocked silent. - -Pierre said, "I don't know how many altogether. I found twenty-two of -the pumps in the vicinity of In Ziza had been blown to smithereens--out -of forty I checked." - -Johnny rapped, "How long ago? How many trees...?" - -Pierre laughed sourly. "I don't know how long ago. The transplants, -especially the slash pine, are going to be just so much kindling before -I get new pumps in." - -Derek said, shocked, "That's our oldest stand." - -Pierre Marimbert, a forty-year-old, sun-beaten Algerian _colon_, eldest -man on the team, sank into his place at the table. He poured the -balance of his can of beer into a glass. - -Johnny said, "What ... what can we do? How many spare pumps can you get -into there, and how soon?" - -Pierre looked up at him wearily. "You didn't quite hear what I said, -Johnny. I only checked forty. Forty out of nearly a thousand in that -vicinity. Twenty-two of them were destroyed, better than fifty percent. -For all I know, that percentage applies throughout the whole In Ziza -area. If so, there's damn few of your trees going to be left alive. -We have a few spare pumps on hand here, but we'd have to get a really -large number all the way from Dakar." - -Derek said softly, "That took a lot of men and a lot of dynamite. Which -means a lot of transport--and a lot of money. We've had trouble before, -but usually it was disgruntled nomads, getting revenge for losing their -grazing land." - -Johnny snorted, "Damn little grazing this far north." - -Derek nodded. "I'm simply saying that even if we could blame our minor -sabotage on the Tuareg in the past, we can't do it this time. There's -money behind anything this big." - -Johnny McCord said wearily, "Let's eat. In the morning we'll go out and -take a look. I'd better call Timbuktu on this. If nothing else, the -Mali Federation can send troops out to protect us." - -Derek grunted. "With a standing army of about 25,000 men, they're going -to patrol a million and a half square miles of desert?" - -"Can you think of anything else to do?" - -"No." - - * * * * * - -Pierre Marimbert began dishing _cous cous_ into a soup plate, then -poured himself a glass of _vin ordinaire_. He said, "I can't think of a -better place for saboteurs. Twenty men could do millions of dollars of -destruction and never be found." - -Johnny growled, "It's not as bad as all that. They've got to eat and -drink, and so do their animals. There are damned few places where they -can." - -From the door a voice said, "I am intruding?" - -They hadn't heard her car come up. The three men scrambled to their -feet. - -"Good evening," Johnny McCord blurted. - -"Hell ... o!" Derek breathed. - -Pierre Marimbert was across the room, taking her in hand. "_Bonjour, -Mademoiselle. Que puis-je faire pour vous? Voulez-vous une biere bien -fraiche ou un apéritif? Il fait trés chaud dans le desert._" He led her -toward the table. - -"Easy, easy there, Reuben," Derek grumbled. "The young lady speaks -English. Give a man a chance." - -Johnny was placing a chair for her. "Paul Peterson, from Poste -Weygand, radioed that you were coming. You're a little late, -Mademoiselle Desage." - -She was perhaps thirty, slim, long-legged, Parisian style. Even at -Bidon Cinq, half a world away from the Champs Elysées, she maintained -her chic. - -She made a moue at Johnny, while taking the chair he held. "I had hoped -to surprise you, catch you off guard." She took in the sun-dried, -dour-faced American wood technologist appraisingly, then turned her -eyes in turn to Derek and Pierre. - -"You three are out here all alone?" she said demurely. - -"Desperately," Derek said. - -Johnny McCord said, "Mademoiselle Hélène Desage, I am John McCord, -and these are my associates, Monsieur Pierre Marimbert and Mr. Derek -Mason. Gentlemen, Mademoiselle Desage is with _Paris Match_, the French -equivalent of _Life_, so I understand. In short, she is undoubtedly -here for a story. So ixnay on the ump-pays." - -"I would love cold beer," Hélène Desage said to Pierre, and to Johnny -McCord, "These days a traveling reporter for _Paris Match_ must be -quite a linguist. My English, Spanish and Italian are excellent. My -German passable. And while I am not fluent in Pig-Latin, I can follow -it. What is this you are saying about the pumps?" - -"Oh, Lord," Johnny said. "Perhaps I'll tell you in the morning. But for -now, would you like to clean up before supper? You must be exhausted -after that 260 kilometers from Poste Weygand." - -Pierre said hurriedly, "I'll take Mademoiselle Desage over to one of -the guest bungalows." - -"Zut!" she said. "The sand! It is even worse than between Reggan and -Poste Weygand. Do you realize that until I began coming across your new -forests I saw no life at all between these two posts?" - -The three forestry experts bowed in unison, as though rehearsed. -"Mademoiselle," Derek, from the heart, "calling our transplant forests -is the kindest thing you could have said in these parts." - -They all laughed and Pierre led her from the room. - -Derek looked at Johnny McCord. "Wow, that was a slip mentioning the -pumps." - -Johnny was looking through the door after her. "I suppose so," he -said sourly. "I'll have to radio the brass and find out the line -we're supposed to take with her. That's the biggest magazine in the -French-speaking world and you don't get a job on it without knowing the -journalistic ropes. That girl can probably smell a story as far as a -Tuareg can smell water." - -"Well, then undoubtedly she's already sniffing. Because, between that -clan of Tuareg with its flocks and the pump saboteurs, we've got more -stories around here than I ever expected!" - - -III - -In the morning Hélène Desage managed to look the last word in what -desert fashion should be, when she strolled into Johnny McCord's -office. Although she came complete with a sun helmet that must have -been the product of a top Parisian shop, she would have been more at -place on the beaches at Miami, Honolulu or Cannes. Her shorts were -short and fitting, her blouse silken, her walking shoes dainty. - -He considered for a moment and then decided against informing her -that Moslems, particularly in this part of the world, were little -used to seeing semi-nude women strolling about. He'd leave the job of -explanation to Pierre, as a fellow Frenchman and the oldest man present -to boot. - -"_Bonjour_," she said. "What a lovely day. I have been strolling about -your little oasis. But you have made it a garden!" - -"Thanks," Johnny said. "We've got to have something to do after working -hours. Entertainment is on the scarce side. But it's more than a -garden. We've been experimenting to see just what trees will take to -this country--given water and care through the early years. Besides, we -use it as a showplace." - -"Showplace?" - -"For skeptical politicians who come through," Johnny said, seating her -in a chair near his desk. "We give them the idea that the whole Sahara -could eventually be like this square mile or so at Bidon Cinq. Palm -trees, fruit trees, pines, shade trees. The works." - -"And could it?" - -Johnny grinned sourly. "Well, not exactly. Not all in one spot, at -least. You've got to remember, the Sahara covers an area of some -three and a half million square miles. In that area you find almost -everything." - -"Everything except water, eh?" She was tapping a cigarette on a -polish-reddened thumbnail. As he lit it for her, Johnny McCord realized -that he hadn't seen fingernail polish for a year. He decided it was too -long. - -"Even water, in some parts," he said. "There's more water than most -people realize. For instance, the Niger, which runs right through a -considerable part of the Sahara, is the eleventh largest river in the -world. But until our commission went to work on it, it dumped itself -into the Gulf of Guinea, unused." - -"The Niger is a long way from here," she said through her smoke. - -He nodded. "For that matter, though, we have a certain amount of rain, -particularly in the highland regions of the central massif. In the -past, with no watershed at all, it ran off, buried itself in the sands, -or evaporated." - -"Mr. McCord," she said, "you are amazingly optimistic. Formerly, I must -admit I had little knowledge of the Sahara Reforestation Commission. -And I deliberately avoided studying up on the subject after receiving -this assignment, because I wanted first impression to be received on -the spot. However, I've just driven across the Sahara. My impression -is that your Commission is one great--_Comment dit-on?_--boon-doggling -project, a super-W.P.A. into which to plow your American resources and -manpower. It is a fake, a delusion. This part of the world has never -been anything but wasteland, and never will be." - -Johnny McCord heard her out without change in expression. - -He'd been through this before. In fact, almost every time a junketing -congressman came through. There was danger in the viewpoint, of course. -If the fantastic sums of money which were being spent were cut off, -such pessimistic views would become automatically correct. - -He took the paperweight from a stack of the correspondence on his desk -and handed it to her. - -She looked at it and scowled--very prettily, but still a scowl. "What -is this? It's a beautiful piece of stone." - -"I picked it up myself," Johnny said. "Near Reggan. It's a chunk of -petrified wood, Miss Desage. From a tree that must have originally had -a diameter of some ten feet. Not quite a redwood, of course, but big." - -"Yes," she said, turning it over in her hand. "I can see this part, -which must have once been bark. But why do you show it to me?" - -"The Sahara was once a semi-tropical, moist area, highly wooded. It can -become so again." - - * * * * * - -She put the piece of fossil back on his desk. "How long ago?" she said -bluntly. - -"A very long time ago, admittedly. During the last Ice Age and -immediately afterwards. But, given man's direction, it can be done -again. And it must be." - -She raised pencilled eyebrows at him. "Must be?" - -Johnny McCord shifted in his chair. "You must be aware of the world's -population explosion, Miss Desage. The human race can't allow three -and a half million square miles of land to be valueless." He grunted -in deprecation. "And at the rate it was going, it would have been four -million before long." - -She didn't understand. - -Johnny spelled it out for her. "A desert can be man-made. Have you -ever been in the Middle East?" At her nod, he went on. "Visitors there -usually wonder how in the world the ancient Jews could ever have -thought of that area as a land of milk and honey. On the face of it, -it's nothing but badlands. What was once the Fertile Crescent now looks -like Arizona." - -Hélène Desage was frowning at him. "And you suggest man did this--not -nature?" - -"The goat did it. The goat, and the use of charcoal as fuel. Along -with ignorance of soil erosion and the destruction of the wonderful -watershed based on the Cedars of Lebanon. Same thing applies to large -areas of Libya and Tunisia, and to Morocco and Spain. Those countries -used to be some of the richest agricultural areas of the Roman Empire. -But you can't graze goats, probably the most destructive animal -domesticated, and you can't depend on charcoal for fuel, unless you -want to create desert." - -"Those things happened a long time ago." - -Johnny snorted. "When we first began operations, the Sahara was going -south at the rate of two miles a year. Goats prefer twigs and bark even -to grass. They strip a country." - -"Well," the reporter said, shrugging shapely shoulders, "at any rate, -the task is one of such magnitude as to be fantastic. Yesterday, I -drove for nearly eight hours without seeing even a clump of cactus." - -"The route you traveled is comparatively untouched by our efforts, thus -far," Johnny nodded agreeably. "However, we're slowly coming down from -Algeria, up from the Niger, and, using the new chemical methods of -freshening sea water, east from Mauretania." - -He came to his feet and pointed out spots on the large wall map. "Our -territory, of course, is only this area which once was called French -West Africa, plus Algeria. The battle is being fought elsewhere by -others. The Egyptians and Sudanese are doing a fairly good job in their -country, with Soviet Complex help. The Tunisians are doing a wonderful -job with the assistance of Common Europe, especially Italy." - -She stood beside him and tried to understand. "What is this area, here, -shaded green?" - -He said proudly, "That's how far we've got so far, heading north from -the Niger. In the past, the desert actually came down to the side of -the river in many places. The water was completely wasted. Now we've -diverted it and are reforesting anywhere up to three miles a year." - -"Three miles a year," she scoffed. "You'll take five centuries." - - * * * * * - -He shook his head and grinned. "It's a progressive thing. Water is -admittedly the big problem. But as our forests grow, they themselves -bring up the moisture content of the climate. Down in this area--" he -made a sweeping gesture over the map which took in large sections north -of the Niger--"we've put in hundreds of millions of slash pine, which -is particularly good for sandy soil and fast growing. In ten years -you've gone from two-year-old seedlings to a respectable forest." - -Johnny pointed out Bidon Cinq on the map. "At the same time we found -what amounts to a subterranean sea in this area. Not a real sea, of -course, but a water-bearing formation or aquifer, deep down under -the surface of the earth--layers of rock and gravel in which large -quantities of water are lying. The hydro-geological technicians who -surveyed it estimate that it holds reserves of several billion tons -of water. Utilizing it, we've put in several hundred square miles -of seedlings and transplants of various varieties. Where there are -natural oases, of course, we stress a lot of date palm. In rocky areas -it's _acacia tortila_. In the mountains we sometimes use varieties -of the pinyon--they'll take quite a beating but are a little on the -slow-growing side." - -She was looking at him from the sides of her eyes. "You're all taken up -by this, aren't you Mr. McCord?" - -Johnny said, surprise in his voice. "Why, it's my work." - -Derek came sauntering in and scaled his sun helmet onto his own desk. -"Good morning, Mademoiselle," he said. And to Johnny, "Hiram, that city -slicker from Timbuktu just came up with his posse." - -Hélène said, "What is this _Si_, _Hiram_ and _Reuben_ which you call -each other?" - -Johnny smiled sourly, "In a way, Miss Desage, this is just one great -tree farm. And all of us are farmers. So we make jokes about it." -He thought for a moment. "Derek, possibly you better take over with -Mohammed. I want to get over to In Ziza with Reuben." - -"To see about the pumps?" Hélène said innocently. - -Johnny frowned but was saved from an answer by the entrance of Mohammed -Mohmoud. He was dark as a Saharan becomes dark, his original Berber -blood to be seen only in his facial characteristics. He wore the rather -flamboyant Mali Federation desert uniform with an air. - -When he saw the girl, his eyebrows rose and he made the Moslem salaam -with a sweeping flourish. - -Johnny said, "Mademoiselle Desage, may I present Captain Mohammed -Mohmoud ould Cheikh, of the Mali desert patrol." He added sourly, "The -officer in charge of preventing nomads from filtering up from the south -into our infant forests." - -The Moslem scowled at him. "They could have come from the east, -from Timmissao," he said in quite passable English. "Or even from -Mauritania." He turned his eyes to Hélène Desage. "_Enchanté, -Mademoiselle. Trés heureux de faire ta connaissance._" - -She gave him the full benefit of her eyes. "_Moi aussi, Monsieur._" - -Johnny wasn't through with the Malian officer. "There's a hundred of -them," he snapped, "with several thousand head of goats and other -livestock. It would have been impossible to push that number across -from Mauritania or even from the east, and you know it." - -A lighter complexion would have shown a flush. Mohammed Mohmoud's -displeasure was limited in expression to a flashing of desert eyes. He -said, "Wherever their origin, the task would seem to be immediately to -destroy the animals. That is why my men and I are here." - -Pierre Marimbert had entered while the conversation was going on. He -said, "Johnny, weren't you going over to In Ziza with me?" - -Hélène Desage said, the tip of her right forefinger to her chin as she -portrayed thought, "I can't decide where to go. To this crisis of the -Tuareg, or to the crisis of the pumps--whatever that is." - -Johnny said flatly, "Sorry, but you'd just be in the way at either -place." - -Mohammed Mohmoud was shrugging. "Why not let her come with me? I can -guarantee her protection. I have brought fifty men with me, more than a -match for a few bedouin." - -"Gracious," she said. "Evidently I was unaware of the magnitude of this -matter. I absolutely _must_ go." - -Johnny said, "No." - -She looked at him appraisingly. "Mr. McCord," she said, "I am here -for a story. Has it occurred to you that preventing a _Paris Match_ -reporter from seeing your methods of operation is probably a bigger -story than anything else I could find here?" She struck a mock pose. -"I can see the headlines. _Sahara Reforestation Authorities Prevent -Journalists from Observing Operations_." - -"Oh, Good Lord," Johnny growled. "This should happen to me, yet! Go on -with Derek and the captain, if you wish." - - * * * * * - -Pierre Marimbert and Johnny McCord took one of the faster helicopters, -Pierre piloting. With French élan he immediately raised the craft a -few feet and then like a nervous horse it backed up, wheeled about and -dashed forward in full flight. - -Spread below them were the several dozen buildings which comprised -Bidon Cinq; surrounding the buildings, the acres of palm and pine, -eucalyptus and black locust. Quick-growing, dry-climate trees -predominated, but there were even such as balsam fir, chestnut and elm. -It made an attractive sight from the air. - -The reforestation projects based on Bidon Cinq were not all in the -immediate vicinity of the home oasis. By air, In Ziza was almost 125 -kilometers to the northeast. By far the greater part of the land -lying in between was still lacking in vegetation of any sort. The -hydro-geological engineers who had originally surveyed the area for -water had selected only the best sections for immediate sinking of -wells, placement of solar power pumps, and eventually the importation -of two-year seedlings and three- and four-year-old transplants. The -heavy auto-planters, brought in by air transport, had ground their way -across the desert sands in their hundreds, six feet between machines. -Stop, dig the hole, set the seedling, splash in water, artfully tamp -down the soil, move on another six feet, stop--and begin the operation -all over again. Fifty trees an hour, per machine. - -In less than two months, the planters had moved on to a new base -further north. The mob of scientists, engineers, water and forest -technicians, mechanics and laborers melted away, leaving Johnny McCord, -his two assistants, his half dozen punch-card machines, his automated -equipment and his forty or fifty native workers. It was one of a -hundred such centers. It would eventually be one of thousands. The -Sahara covered an area almost the size of Europe. - -Johnny McCord growled, "Friend Mohammed seems quite taken with our -reporter." - -Pierre grinned and tried to imitate a New England twang. "Why not, -Hiram? She's the first, eh, women folks seen in these parts for many -a day." He looked down at the endless stretches of sand dunes, gravel -and rock out-croppings. "Mighty dry farm land you've got around here, -Hiram." - -Johnny McCord grunted. "Derek said the other day it's so dry even the -mirages are only mud holes." He pointed with his forefinger. "There's -the first of our trees. Now, what pumps did you check?" - -Pierre directed the copter lower, skimmed not much higher than the -young tree tops. Some of them had already reached an impressive height. -But Johnny McCord realized that the time was not too distant when -they'd have to replant. Casualties were considerably higher than in -forest planting at home. Considerably so. And replanting wasn't nearly -so highly automated as the original work. More manpower was required. - -"These pumps here seem all right," he said to Pierre. - -"A little further north," Pierre said. "I came in over the track there, -from the road that comes off the main route to Poste Weygand. Yes, -there we are. Look! Completely destroyed." - -Johnny swore. The trees that had depended on that particular pump -wouldn't last a month, in spite of the fact that they were among the -first set in this area. - -He said, "Go higher. We should be able to spot the complete damage with -glasses. You saw twenty-two, you say?" - -"Yes, I don't know how many more there might be." - -There were twenty-five destroyed pumps in all. And all of them were -practically together. - -It was sheer luck that Pierre Marimbert had located them so soon. Had -his routine check taken place in some other section of the vast tree -development, he would have found nothing untoward. - -"This isn't nearly so bad as I had expected," Johnny growled. He was -scowling thoughtfully. - -"What's the matter?" Pierre said. - -"I just don't get it," Johnny said. "Number one, nomads don't carry -dynamite, unless it's been deliberately given them. Two, if it -was given them by someone with a purpose, why only enough to blow -twenty-five pumps? That isn't a drop in the bucket. A few thousand -trees are all we'll lose. Three, where did they come from? Where are -their tracks? And where have they gone? This job wasn't done so very -long ago, probably within a week or two at most." - -"How do you know that?" - -"Otherwise those trees affected would already be dying. At their age, -they couldn't stand the sun long without water." - -Pierre said, his face registering disbelief, "Do you think it could be -simple vandalism on the part of a small band of Tuareg?" - -"Sure, if the pumps had been destroyed by hand. But with explosives? -Even if your band of Tuareg did have explosives they wouldn't waste -them on a few Sahara Reforestation Commission pumps." - -"This whole thing just doesn't make sense," Pierre Marimbert decided. - -"Let's land and take a look at one of those pumps," Johnny said. "You -know, if you get the whole crew to work on this you might be able -to replace them before we lose any of these transplants. It's all -according to how long ago they were destroyed." - - -IV - -Back at Bidon Cinq again that afternoon, Johnny McCord was greeted by -the native office assistant he'd left in charge while all three of the -officers were gone. Mellor, at the Tissalit base, had made several -attempts to get in touch with him. - -"Mellor!" Pierre grunted. "How do you Americans say it? Stuffed shirt!" - -"Yeah," Johnny McCord said, sitting down to the telephone. "But my -boss." - -While Pierre was fishing two cans of beer from the refrigerator, Johnny -dialed Tissalit. Kate's face lit up the screen. Johnny said, "Hi. I -understand the old man wants to talk to me." - -"That's right," the girl said, and moved a switch. "Just a minute, -Johnny." - -Her face faded to be replaced by that of Mellor. Johnny noted that as -usual the other wore a business suit, complete with white shirt and -tie--in the middle of the Sahara! - -Mellor was scowling. "Where've you been, McCord?" - -"Checking some pumps near In Ziza," Johnny said evenly. - -"Leaving no one at all at camp?" the other said. - -Johnny said, "There were at least a score of men here, Mr. Mellor." - -"No officers. Suppose an emergency came up?" - -Johnny felt like saying, _An emergency did come up, two of them in -fact. That's why we were all gone at once._ But for some reason he -decided against explaining current happenings at Bidon Cinq until he -had a clearer picture. He said, "There are only three of us here, Mr. -Mellor. We have to stretch our manpower. Derek Mason had to go over to -Amérene el Kasbach with Mohammed Mohmoud and his men to clear out those -nomads and their livestock." - -"What did they find? Where were the Tuareg from?" - -"They haven't returned yet." Automatically, Johnny took up his can of -beer and took a swallow from it. - -Mellor's eyebrows went up. "Drinking this early in the day, McCord?" - -Johnny sighed deeply, "Look, Mr. Mellor, Pierre Marimbert and I just -returned from several hours in the desert, inspecting pumps. We're -dehydrated, so we're drinking cold beer. It tastes wonderful. I doubt -if it will lead either of us to a drunkard's grave." - -Mellor scowled pompously. He said finally, "See here, McCord--the -reason I called--you can be expecting a reporter from one of the French -publications--" - -"She's here." - -"Oh," Mellor said. "I just received notice this morning. Orders are to -give her the utmost cooperation. Things are on the touchy side right -now. Very touchy." - -"How do you mean?" Johnny said. - -"There are pressures on the highest levels," Mellor said, managing to -put over the impression that these matters were above and beyond such -as Johnny McCord but that he, Mellor, was privy to them. - -"What pressures?" Johnny said wearily. "If you want me to handle this -woman with kid gloves, then I've got to know what I'm protecting her -against, or hiding from her, or whatever the hell I'm supposed to do." - -Mellor glared at him. "I'm not sure I always appreciate your flippancy, -McCord," he said. "However, back home the opposition is in an uproar -over our expenditures. Things are very delicate. A handful of votes -could sway the continuance of the whole project." - -Johnny McCord closed his eyes in pain. This came up every year or so. - -Mellor said, "That isn't all. The Russkies are putting up a howl in the -Reunited Nations. They claim the West plans to eventually take over all -northwest Africa. That this reforestation is just preliminary to make -the area worth assimilating." - -Johnny chuckled sourly, "Let's face it. They're right." - -Mellor was shocked. "Mr. McCord! The West has never admitted to any -such scheme." - -Johnny sighed. "However, we aren't plowing billions into the Sahara out -of kindness of heart. The Mali Federation alone has almost two million -square miles in it, and less than twenty million population. Already, -there's fewer people than are needed to exploit the new lands we've -opened up." - -"Well, that brings up another point," Mellor said. "The Southeast Asia -Bloc is putting up a howl too. They claim they should be the ones -allowed to reclaim this area and that it should go into farmland -instead of forest." - -"They're putting the cart before the horse," Johnny said. "At this -stage of the game, the only land they could use really profitably for -farming would be along the Niger. We're going to have to forest this -whole area first, and in doing so, change the whole climate. _Then_ -it'll...." - -Mellor interrupted him. "I'm as familiar with the program of the Sahara -Reforestation Commission as you are, I am sure, McCord. I need no -lecture. See that Miss Desage gets as sympathetic a picture of our work -as possible. And, for heaven's sake, don't let anything happen that -might influence her toward writing something that would change opinions -either at home or in the Reunited Nations." - -"I'll do my best," Johnny said sourly. - -The other clicked off. - - * * * * * - -Pierre was handy with another can of beer, already opened. "So -Mademoiselle Desage is to be handled with loving care." - -Johnny groaned, "And from what we've seen so far of Mademoiselle -Desage, she's going to take quite a bit of loving care to handle." - -Outside, they could hear the beating of rotors coming in. Two -helicopters, from the sound of it. Beer cans in hand they went over to -the window and watched them approach. - -"Derek and the girl in one, Mohammed in the other," Pierre said. -"Evidently our good captain left the messy work of butchering goats to -his men, while he remains on the scene to be as available to our girl -Hélène as she will allow." - -The copters swooped in, landed, the rotors came to a halt and the -occupants stepped from the cockpits. The Arab ground crew came running -up to take over. - -Preceded by Hélène Desage, the two men made their way toward the main -office. Even at this distance there seemed to be an aggressive lift to -the girl's walk. - -"Oh, oh, my friend," Pierre said. "I am afraid Mademoiselle Desage is -unhappy about something." - -Johnny groaned. "I think you're right. But smile, Reuben, smile. You -heard the city slicker's orders. Handle her with all the care of a -new-born heifer." - -Hélène Desage stormed through the door and glared at Johnny McCord. "Do -you realize what your men are doing?" - -"I thought I did," Johnny said placatingly. - -Derek and Mohammed Mohmoud entered behind her. Derek winked at Johnny -McCord and made a beeline for the refrigerator. "Beer, everybody?" he -said. - -Mohammed Mohmoud said, "A soft drink for me, if you please, Mr. Mason." - -Derek said, "Sorry, I forgot. Beer, Miss Desage?" - -She turned and glared at him. "You did nothing whatsoever to prevent -them!" - -Derek shrugged. "That's why we went out there, honey. Did you notice -how much damage those goats had done to the trees? Thousands of dollars -worth." - -Johnny said wearily, "What happened?" He sank into the chair behind his -desk. - -The reporter turned to him again. "Your men are shooting the livestock -of those poverty-stricken people." - -Mohammed Mohmoud said, "We are keeping an accurate count of every beast -destroyed, Mr. McCord." His dark face was expressionless. - -Johnny McCord attempted to explain to the girl. "As I told you, Miss -Desage, goats are the curse of the desert. They prefer leaves, twigs -and even the bark of young trees to grass. The Commission before ever -taking on this tremendous project arranged through the Mali Federation -government to buy up and have destroyed every grazing animal north of -the Niger. It cost millions upon millions. But our work couldn't even -begin until it was accomplished." - -"But why slaughter the livelihood of those poor people? You could quite -easily insist that they return with their flocks to whatever areas are -still available to them." - -Derek offered her a can of beer. She seemed to be going to reject it, -but a desert-born thirst changed her mind. She took it without thanking -him. - -The lanky Canadian said mildly, "I tried to explain to her that the -Tuareg aren't exactly innocent children of the desert. They're known -as the Apaches of the Sahara. For a couple of thousand years they've -terrified the other nomads. They were slave raiders, bandits. When the -Commission started its work the other tribes were glad to sell their -animals and take up jobs in the new oases. Send their kids to the -new schools we've been building in the towns. Begin fitting into the -reality of modern life." - -Her eyes were flashing now. "The Apaches of the Sahara, eh? _Bien sur!_ -If I remember correctly, the American Apaches were the last of the -Indian tribes which you Americans destroyed. The last to resist. Now -you export your methods to Africa!" - -Johnny McCord said mildly, "Miss Desage, it seems to be the thing -these days to bleed over the fate of the redman. Actually, there are a -greater number of them in the United States today than there were when -Columbus landed. But even if you do carry a torch for the noble Indian, -picking the Apaches as an example is poor choice. They were bandit -tribes, largely living off what they could steal and raid from the -Pueblo and other harder working but less warlike Indians. The Tuareg -are the North African equivalent." - -"Who are you to judge?" she snapped back. "Those tribesmen out there -are the last defenders of their ancient desert culture. Their flocks -are their way of life. You mercilessly butcher them, rob their women -and children of their sole source of food and clothing." - - * * * * * - -Johnny McCord ran his hand over his face in an unhappy gesture. "Look," -he said plaintively. "Those goats and sheep have already been bought -and paid for by the Commission. The Tuareg should have destroyed -them, or sold them as food to be immediately butchered, several years -ago. Where they've been hiding is a mystery. But they simply have no -right to be in possession of those animals, no right to be in this -part of the country, and, above all, no right to be grazing in our -transplants." - -"It's their country! What right have you to order them away?" - -Johnny McCord held up his hands, palms upward. "This country is part -of the Mali Federation, Miss Desage. It used to be called French Sudan -and South Algeria. The government of the Federation gladly accepted the -project of reforestating the Sahara. Why not? We've already succeeded -in making one of the most poverty-stricken areas in the world a -prosperous one. Far from there being unemployment here, we have a labor -shortage. Schools have opened, even universities. Hospitals have sprung -up. Highways have been laid out through country that hadn't even trails -before. The Federation is booming. If there are a few Tuareg who can't -adapt to the new world, it's too bad. Their children will be glad for -the change." - -She seated herself stiffly. "I am not impressed by your excuses," she -said. - -Johnny shrugged and turned to Mohammed Mohmoud who had been standing -silently through all this, almost as though at attention. - -Johnny said, "Did you learn where this band comes from? Where they had -kept that many animals for so long without detection?" - -The Moslem officer shook his head. "They wouldn't reveal that." - -Johnny looked at Derek Mason. The Canadian shook his head. "None of -them spoke French, Johnny. Or if they did, they wouldn't admit it. -When we first came up they looked as though they were going to fight. -Happily, the size of the captain's command made them decide otherwise. -At any rate, they're putting up no resistance. I let them know through -the captain, here, that when they got back to Tissalit, or Timbuktu, -they could put in a demand for reimbursement for their animals--if the -animals were legally theirs." - -Johnny looked at the Malian officer again. "How come you've returned to -camp? Shouldn't you be out there with your men?" - -"There were a few things to be discussed," the Moslem said. He looked -significantly at the French reporter. - -Hélène Desage said, "Let me warn you, I will not tolerate being sent -away. I want to hear this. If I don't, I demand you let me communicate -immediately with my magazine and with the Transatlantic Newspaper -Alliance for whom I am also doing a series of articles on the Sahara -Reforestation _scheme_." - -Johnny McCord winced. He said, "There is nothing going on around here, -Miss Desage, that is secret. You won't be ordered away." He turned to -Mohammed Mohmoud. "What did you wish to discuss, Captain?" - -"First, what about the camels, asses and horses?" - -"Shoot them. Practically the only graze between here and Tissalit are -our trees." - -"And how will they get themselves and their property out of this -country?" the reporter snapped. - -Johnny said wearily, "We'll truck them out, Miss Desage. They and all -their property. And while we're doing it, we'll feed them. I imagine, -before it's all over it will cost the Commission several thousand -dollars." He turned back to the desert patrol captain. "What else?" - -From a tunic pocket Mohammed Mohmoud brought a handgun and handed it to -Johnny McCord. "I thought you might like to see this. They were quite -well armed. At first I thought there might be resistance." - -Johnny turned the automatic over in his hands, scowling at it. "What's -there to see that's special? I don't know much about guns." - -Mohammed Mohmoud said, "It was made in Pilsen." - -Johnny looked up at him. "Czechoslovakia, eh?" - -The other said, "So were most of their rifles." - -Hélène Desage snorted in deprecation. "So, we'll drag in that old -wheeze. The red menace. Blame it on _la Russie_." - -Johnny McCord said mildly, "We haven't blamed anything on the Russkies, -Miss Desage. The Tuareg have a right to bear arms, there are still -dangerous animals in the Mali Federation. And they are free to purchase -Czech weapons if they find them better or cheaper than western ones. -Don't find an exciting story where there is none. Things are tranquil -here." - -Hélène Desage stared at him. So did Mohammed Mohmoud and Derek Mason -for that matter. - -Only Pierre Marimbert realized Johnny McCord's position, and he -chuckled and went for more beer. - - -V - -Johnny McCord was a man who didn't like to be thrown out of routine. He -resented the interference with his schedule of the past few days. By -nature he was methodical, not given to inspiration. - -All of which was probably the reason that he spent a sleepless night -trying to find rhyme and reason where seemingly there was none. - -At dawn, he stepped from the door of his Quonset hut quarters and -looked for a moment into the gigantic red ball which was the Saharan -sun. Neither dawn nor sunset at Bidon Cinq were spectacular, nor would -they become so until the Sahara Reforestation Commission began to -return moisture to desert skies. Johnny wondered if he would live to -see it. - -He made his way over to the huge steel shed which doubled as garage and -aircraft hanger. As yet, none of the native mechanics were stirring, -although he could hear sounds of activity in the community kitchen. - -Derek Mason looked up from his inspection of Hélène Desage's -air-cushion Land Rover. - -Johnny McCord scowled at him. "What in the hell are you doing here?" - -The lanky Canadian came erect and looked for a long moment at his -superior. He said finally, soberly, "It occurs to me that I'm probably -doing the same thing you came to do." - -"What have you found?" - -"That a small bomb has been attached to the starter." - -Johnny didn't change expression. It fitted in. "What else?" he said. - -Derek handed him a steel ring. - -Johnny McCord looked at it, recognized it for what it was and stuck it -in his pocket. "Let's go back to the office. Yell in to the cook to -send some coffee over, and call Pierre. We've got some notes to check." - -Mademoiselle Desage was a late riser. When she entered the office, the -three Sahara Reforestation Commission officers were already at work. - -She said snappishly to Johnny McCord, "Today I would like to see these -destroyed pumps." - -Johnny said, his eyebrows questioning, "How did you know they were -destroyed?" - -"It doesn't seem to be much of a secret. The story is all about the -camp." - -"Oh?" Johnny sighed, then drawled to Derek, "I say, Si, you better go -get the hired hand, we might as well finish this up so we can get back -to work." - -Derek nodded and left. - -Johnny McCord left the collator he'd been working with, went around -behind his desk and sat down. "Take a chair, Miss Desage. I want to say -a few things in the way of background to you." - -She sat, but said defiantly, "I have no need of a lengthy lecture on -the glories of the Sahara Reforestation Commission." - -"Coffee?" Pierre Marimbert said politely. - -"No, thank you." - -Johnny said, his voice thoughtful, "I imagine the real starting point -was back about 1957 when the Chinese discovered that a nation's -greatest natural resource is its manpower." - - * * * * * - -She frowned at him. "What in the world are you talking about?" - -He ignored her and went on. "Originally, appalled by the job of feeding -over half a billion mouths, they had initiated a birth control plan. -But after a year or two they saw it was the wrong approach. They were -going to succeed, if they succeeded, in their _Great Leaps Forward_ by -utilizing the labor of every man, woman and child in the country. And -that's what they proceeded to do. The lesson was brought home to the -rest of the world in less than ten years, when such other countries as -India and Indonesia failed to do the same." - -Johnny leaned back in his chair, and his eyes were thoughtful but -unseeing. "Even we of the west learned the lesson. The most important -factor in our leadership was our wonderful trained labor force. As -far back as 1960 we had more than 65 million Americans working daily -in industry and distribution. Even the Russkies, with their larger -population, didn't begin to equal that number." - -"What are you driveling about?" the reporter demanded. - -"To sum it up," Johnny said mildly, "the battle for men's minds -continues and each of the world's great powers has discovered that -it can't afford to limit its population--its greatest resource. So -population continues to explode and the world is currently frantically -seeking sources of food for its new billions. The Amazon basin is being -made into a tropical garden; the Japanese, landless, are devising a -hundred methods of farming the sea; Australia is debouching into its -long unpopulated interior, doing much the same things we are here -in the Sahara. The Chinese are over-flowing into Sinkiang, Mongolia -and Tibet; the Russkies into Siberia. We of the west, with the large -underdeveloped areas of the western hemisphere have not been so greatly -pushed as some others. However, there is always tomorrow." - -Derek entered with Captain Mohammed Mohmoud. The latter day Rudolph -Valentino had a puzzled expression on his dark face. - -"Here's the hired man, Hiram," Derek drawled. - -The desert patrol officer nodded questioningly to the men and said, -"_Bonjour_," to Hélène Desage. - -Johnny went on. "Yes, there's tomorrow. And by the time we run out -of _Lebensraum_ in Brazil and Alaska, in Central America and the -Argentine, in Texas and Saskatchewan, we're going to need the three -million square miles of the Sahara." - -She said in ridicule, "It will take you a century at least to reforest -the desert." - -"At least." Johnny nodded agreeably. "And we're willing and able to -look that far ahead. Possibly by that time our opponents will also be -looking for new lands for their expanding peoples. And where will they -find them? The advantage will be ours, Miss Desage." - -Mohammed Mohmoud looked from one to the other, frowning. "What are we -discussing?" he said. "I should be getting back to my men." - -Derek yawned and said, "Forget about it, pal. You're never going to be -getting back to your men again." - - * * * * * - -The desert patrol officer's eyes widened. He turned his glare on Johnny -McCord, "What is all this?" - -Johnny said, "I'll tell it, Derek." - -Hélène Desage was as surprised as the Malian. "What is going on? Are -you trying to whitewash yourselves by casting blame on this gentleman?" - -"Let me go on," Johnny said. "Needless to say, there are conflicting -interests. The Soviet Complex obviously would as soon we didn't -succeed. However, wars are impractical today, and the Russkies and -Chinese are taken up with their own development. The Southeast Asia -bloc wouldn't mind taking over here themselves, they desperately need -land already. But they aren't our biggest opponents. There's another -group even more involved--the _colons_ of Algeria and Morocco and those -of even such Mali cities as Dakar. I suppose it is this last element -that you represent, Miss Desage." - -She was staring unbelievingly at him now. - -"Their interest is to get the Sahara Reforestation Commission out -of the way so that they can immediately exploit the area. They are -interested in the _now_, not the potentialities of the future. They -resent the use of the Niger for reforestation, when they could use it -for immediate irrigation projects. They would devote the full resources -of the Mali Federation and Algeria to seeking oil and minerals and in -the various other ways the country might be exploited. Finally, they -rather hate to see the western schools, hospitals, and other means used -to raise the local living standards. They liked the low wage rates that -formerly applied." - -Johnny nodded. "Yes, I imagine that's your angle." - -Hélène Desage stormed to her feet. "I don't have to listen to this!" - -Derek said, "Honey, we sure aren't holding you. You're free to go any -time you want. And you can take this pal of yours along with you." He -jerked his head contemptuously at Mohammed Mohmoud. - -Pierre Marimbert said, "Mademoiselle, we have no idea of where you two -met originally, nor how close your relationship, but the captain should -have remembered that I too am French. A gentleman, on first meeting a -lady, would never, never address her as _tu in our_ language." - -Johnny sighed again and looked at his watch. "Other things pile up too, -Miss Desage. You let slip a few moments ago that you knew about the -pumps being destroyed. You said the rumor was all around camp. But it -couldn't be. The only persons who knew about it were myself, Pierre -and Derek. On top of that, there were no signs of bedouin or animals -near the exploded pumps; the person who did the job must have come in -an aircraft or air-cushion car. And, besides, we found the pin of a -hand grenade in your land rover this morning. We had thought at first -that dynamite had been used, but evidently you smuggled your much more -compact bombs across the desert with you. Obviously, no one would have -dreamed of searching your vehicle. - -"No, Miss Desage, it's obvious that you detoured from the track on the -way down from Poste Weygand, went over to In Ziza, a comparatively -short distance, and blew up twenty-five of our pumps." - -Johnny turned to the Malian officer now. "At the same time you were -coordinating with her, you and whatever gang is hiring you. Someone -supplied those Tuareg with the livestock and paid them to trek up here. -You, of course, turned your back and let them through. The same someone -who supplied the livestock also supplied Czech weapons." - -Hélène Desage was still sputtering indignation. "Ridiculous! Why? What -would motivate me to such nonsense?" - -Johnny grimaced. "The whole thing makes a beautiful story at a time -when the American government is debating the practicality of the whole -project. You could do quite a sob story on the poor, poverty-stricken -Tuareg having their livestock destroyed. Then, quite a tale about the -bedouin raiding our pumping stations and blowing them up. And quite a -tale about the Tuareg being armed with Czech weapons. Oh, I imagine -before it was through you'd have drawn a picture of civil war going -on here between the nomads and the Commission. Blowing up your own car -with a small bomb attached to the starter was just one more item. By -the way, were you going to do it yourself? Or did you intend to allow -one of our mechanics to kill himself?" - -She flushed. "Don't be ridiculous. No one would have been hurt. The -bomb is a very small one. More smoke and flash than anything else." - -"Well, thanks for small favors," Derek said sarcastically. - - * * * * * - -She gave up. "Very well," she snapped. "There is nothing you can -do. This whole project, as I said before, is nothing but American -boon-doggling, a way of plowing endless resources into a hole. Your -real motivation is an attempt to prevent depression and unemployment in -your country." - -Pierre Marimbert said softly, "So you admit to this whole scheme to -discredit us?" - -"Why not?" She turned to the door. "I will still write my articles. -It's my word or yours." - -Derek grinned at her. "I think I could fall in love with you, honey," -he said. "Life would provide few dull moments. However, you didn't -notice how nice and automated this office is. Card machines, electric -typewriters, all the latest--including tape recorders for office -conversations. You talked too much, honey." - -"_Cochon!_" she shrilled at him. She whirled and was through the door. - -Johnny turned to Mohammed Mohmoud. "I guess the best thing for you -would be to turn in your commission, Captain." - -Dark eyes snapped. "And if I say no?" - -Johnny shook his head. "The Mali Federation passed some awfully strict -laws when it was drawing up its constitution. Among them was one -involving capital punishment for anyone destroying a source of water in -the desert. Miss Desage did the actual work but you were hand in glove -with her. I'd hate to have to report that to your superiors." - -Derek jumped forward quickly. His hand snaked out and chopped the -other's forearm. The heavy military pistol fell to the floor, and the -Canadian kicked it to one side. "Shucks," he drawled, "the hired hand -sure is tricky, ain't he?" - -"Good Lord," Johnny McCord said disgustedly, "I didn't say I was going -to report you. Just threatened to if you didn't resign. Now get out of -here, we've got work to do. I'm three days behind on my reports!" - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Farmer, by Mack Reynolds - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FARMER *** - -***** This file should be named 51799-8.txt or 51799-8.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/1/7/9/51799/ - -Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan 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. 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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/license - - -Title: Farmer - -Author: Mack Reynolds - -Release Date: April 19, 2016 [EBook #51799] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ASCII - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FARMER *** - - - - -Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - - - - - - -</pre> - - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/cover.jpg" width="400" height="500" alt=""/> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="titlepage"> -<h1>FARMER</h1> - -<p>By MACK REYNOLDS</p> - -<p>Illustrated by RITTER</p> - -<p>[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from<br /> -Galaxy Magazine June 1961.<br /> -Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that<br /> -the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]</p> - -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/illus1.jpg" width="600" height="304" alt=""/> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p class="ph3"><i>Someone out there didn't like trees.<br /> -He wanted to wreck the Sahara Project—and<br /> -he was willing to murder in the process!</i></p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p class="ph4">I</p> - -<p>One of the auto-copters swooped in and landed. Johnny McCord emptied -his pipe into the wastebasket, came to his feet and strolled toward the -open door. He automatically took up a sun helmet before emerging into -the Saharan sun.</p> - -<p>He was dressed in khaki shorts and short-sleeved shirt, wool socks and -yellow Moroccan babouche slippers.</p> - -<p>The slippers were strictly out of uniform and would have been frowned -upon by Johnny's immediate superiors. However, the Arabs had been -making footwear suitable for sandy terrain for centuries before there -had ever been a Sahara Reforestation Commission. Johnny was in favor -of taking advantage of their know-how. Especially since the top brass -made a point of staying in the swank air-conditioned buildings of -Colomb-Bechar, Tamanrasset and Timbuktu, from whence they issued -lengthy bulletins on the necessity of never allowing a Malian to see -a Commission employee in less than the correct dress and in less than -commanding dignity. While they were busily at work composing such -directives, field men such as Johnny McCord went about the Commission's -real tasks.</p> - -<p>It was auto-copter 4, which Johnny hadn't expected for another half -hour. He extracted the reports and then peered into the cockpit to -check. There were two red lights flickering on the panel. Work for -Reuben. This damned sand was a perpetual hazard to equipment. Number 4 -had just had an overhaul a few weeks before and here it was throwing -red lights already.</p> - -<p>He took the reports back into the office and dumped them into the -card-punch. While they were being set up, Johnny went over to the -office refrigerator and got out a can of Tuborg beer. Theoretically, it -was as taboo to drink iced beer in this climate, and particularly at -this time of day, as it was to go out into the sun without a hat. But -this was one place where the Commission's medics could go blow.</p> - -<p>By the time he'd finished the Danish brew, the card-punch had stopped -clattering so he took the cards from the hopper and crossed to the -sorter. He gave them a quick joggling—cards held up well in this dry -climate, though they were a terror further south—and sorted them -through four code numbers, enough for this small an amount. He carried -them over to the collator and merged them into the proper file.</p> - -<p>He was still running off a report on the Alphabetyper when Derek Mason -came in.</p> - -<p>Johnny drawled in a horrible caricature of a New England accent, "I -say, Si, did the cyclone hurt your barn any?"</p> - -<p>Derek's voice took on the same twang. "Don't know, Hiram, we ain't -found it yet."</p> - -<p>Johnny said, "You get all your chores done, Si?"</p> - -<p>Derek dropped the pseudo-twang and his voice expressed disgust. "I got -a chore for you Johnny, that you're going to love. Rounding up some -livestock."</p> - -<p>Johnny looked up from the report he was running off and shot an -impatient glance at him. "Livestock? What the hell are you talking -about?"</p> - -<p>"Goats."</p> - -<p>Johnny McCord flicked the stop button on the Alphabetyper. "Where've -you been? There isn't a goat within five hundred miles of here."</p> - -<p>Derek went over to the refrigerator for beer. He said over his -shoulder, "I was just making a routine patrol over toward Amérene -El Kasbach. I'd estimate there were a hundred Tuareg in camp there. -Camels, a few sheep, a few horses and donkeys. Mostly goats. Thousands -of them. By the looks of the transplants, they've been there possibly -a week or so."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Johnny said in agony, "Oh, Lord. What clan were they?"</p> - -<p>Derek punched a hole in his beer can with the opener that hung from the -refrigerator by a string. "I didn't go low enough to check. You can -never tell with a Tuareg. They can't resist as beautiful a target as a -helicopter, and one of these days one of them is going to make a hole -in me, instead of in the fuselage or rotors."</p> - -<p>Johnny McCord, furious, plunked himself down before the telephone and -dialed Tessalit, 275 kilometers to the south. The girl on the desk -there grinned at him and said, "Hello, Johnny."</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/illus2.jpg" width="347" height="500" alt=""/> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p>Johnny McCord was in no mood for pleasantries. He snapped, "Who's -supposed to be on Bedouin patrol down there?"</p> - -<p>She blinked at him. "Why, Mohammed is in command of patrolling this -area, Mr. McCord."</p> - -<p>"Mohammed? Mohammed who? Eighty percent of these Malians are named -Mohammed."</p> - -<p>"Captain Mohammed Mohmoud ould Cheikh." She added, unnecessarily, "The -Cadi's son."</p> - -<p>Johnny grunted. He'd always suspected that the captain had got his -ideas of what a cadi's son should be like from seeing Hollywood movies. -"Look, Kate," he said. "Let me talk to Mellor, will you?"</p> - -<p>Her face faded to be replaced by that of a highly tanned, -middle-aged executive type. He scowled at Johnny McCord with a -this-better-be-important expression, not helping Johnny's disposition.</p> - -<p>He snapped, "Somebody's let several thousand goats into my eucalyptus -transplants in my western four hundred."</p> - -<p>Mellor was taken aback.</p> - -<p>Johnny said, "I can have Derek back-trail them, if you want to be sure, -but it's almost positive they came from the south, this time of year."</p> - -<p>Mellor sputtered, "They might have come from the direction of -Timmissao. Who are they, anyway?"</p> - -<p>"I don't know. Tuareg. I thought we'd supposedly settled with all the -Tuareg. Good Lord, man, do you know how many transplants a thousand -goats can go through in a week's time?"</p> - -<p>"A week's time!" Mellor rasped. "You mean you've taken a whole week to -detect them?"</p> - -<p>Johnny McCord glared at him. "A <i>whole</i> week! We're lucky they didn't -spend the whole <i>season</i> before we found them. How big a staff do you -think we have here, Mellor? There's just three of us. Only one can be -spared for patrol."</p> - -<p>"You have natives," the older man growled.</p> - -<p>"They can't fly helicopters. Most of them can't even drive a Land Rover -or a jeep. Besides that, they're scared to death of Tuaregs. They -wouldn't dare report them. What I want to know is, why didn't you stop -them coming through?"</p> - -<p>Mellor was on the defensive. He ranked Johnny McCord, but that was -beside the point right now. He said finally, "I'll check this all the -way through, McCord. Meanwhile, I'll send young Mohammed Mohmoud up -with a group of his men."</p> - -<p>"To do what?" Johnny demanded.</p> - -<p>"To shoot the goats, what else?"</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Johnny growled, "One of these days a bunch of these Tuareg are going to -decide that a lynching bee is in order, and that's going to be the end -of this little base at Bidon Cinq."</p> - -<p>Mellor said, "If they're Tuareg nomads then they have no legal right -to be within several hundred miles of Bidon Cinq. And if they've got -goats, they shouldn't have. The Commission has bought up every goat in -this part of the world."</p> - -<p>Johnny growled, "Sure, bought them up and then left it to the honor of -the Tuareg to destroy them. The honor of the Tuareg! Ha!"</p> - -<p>The other said pompously, "Are you criticizing the upper echelons, -McCord?"</p> - -<p>Johnny McCord snapped, "You're damned right I am." He slammed off the -telephone and turned on Derek Mason. "What are you grinning about?"</p> - -<p>Derek drawled, "I say, Hiram, I got a sneaky suspicion you ain't never -gonna graduate off'n this here farm if you don't learn how to cotton up -to the city slickers better."</p> - -<p>"Oh, shut up," Johnny growled. "Let's have another beer."</p> - -<p>Before Derek could bring it to him, the telephone screen lit up again -and Paul Peterson, of the Poste Weygand base, was there. He said, "Hi. -You guys look like you're having a crisis."</p> - -<p>"Hello, Paul," Johnny McCord said. "Crisis is right. Those jerks down -south let a clan of Tuareg, complete with a few thousand goats, camels -and sheep through. They've been grazing a week or more in my west four -hundred."</p> - -<p>"Good grief." Paul grimaced. "At least that's one thing we don't have -to worry about. They never get this far up. How'd it happen?"</p> - -<p>"I don't know, but I'm going to find out. I haven't seen the mess yet, -but it's certain to wreck that whole four hundred. Have you ever seen -just one goat at work on the bark of three-year transplants?"</p> - -<p>Paul shuddered sympathetically. "Look, Johnny," he said. "The reason I -called you. There's an air-cushion Land Rover coming through. She just -left."</p> - -<p>Derek Mason looked over Johnny's shoulder into the screen. "What d'ya -mean, <i>she</i>?"</p> - -<p>Paul grinned. "Just that, and, Buster, she's stacked. A Mademoiselle -Hélène Desage of <i>Paris Match</i>."</p> - -<p>Johnny said, "The French magazine? What's she doing in a road car? Why -doesn't she have an aircraft? There hasn't been a road car through here -this whole year."</p> - -<p>Paul shrugged. "She claims she's getting it from the viewpoint of how -things must've been twenty years ago. So, anyway, we've notified you. -If she doesn't turn up in eight or ten hours, you better send somebody -to look for her."</p> - -<p>"Yeah," Johnny McCord said. "Well, so long, Paul."</p> - -<p>The other's face faded from the screen and Johnny McCord turned to his -colleague. "One more extraneous something to foul up our schedule."</p> - -<p>Derek said mildly, "I say, Hiram, what're you complaining about? Didn't -you hear tell what Paul just said? She's stacked. Be just like a -traveling saleswoman visitin' the farm."</p> - -<p>"Yeah," Johnny growled. "And I can see just how much work I'll be -getting out of you as long as she's here."</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p class="ph4">II</p> - -<p>Poste Maurice Cortier, better known in the Sahara as Bidon Cinq, is as -remote a spot on earth in which man has ever lived. Some 750 kilometers -to the south is Bourem on the Niger river. If you go west of Bourem -another 363 kilometers, you reach Timbuktu, the nearest thing to a -city in that part of the Sudan. If you travel north from Bidon Cinq -1,229 kilometers you reach Colomb-Béchar, the nearest thing to a city -in southern Algeria. There are no railroads, no highways. The track -through the desert is marked by oil drums filled with gravel so the -wind won't blow them away. There is an oil drum every quarter of a mile -or so. You go from one to the next, carrying your own fuel and water. -If you get lost, the authorities come looking for you in aircraft. -Sometimes they find you.</p> - -<p>In the latter decades of the Twentieth Century, Bidon Cinq became -an outpost of the Sahara Reforestation Commission which was working -north from the Niger, and south from Algeria as well as east from -the Atlantic. The water table in the vicinity of Bidon Cinq was -considerably higher than had once been thought. Even artesian wells -were possible in some localities. More practical still were springs and -wells exploited by the new solar-powered pumps that in their tens of -thousands were driving back the sands of the world's largest desert.</p> - -<p>Johnny McCord and Derek Mason ate in the officer's mess, divorced from -the forty or fifty Arabs and Songhai who composed their work force. It -wasn't snobbery, simply a matter of being able to eat in leisure and -discuss the day's activities free of the chatter of the larger mess -hall.</p> - -<p>Derek looked down into his plate. "Hiram," he drawled, "who ever -invented this here <i>cous cous</i>?"</p> - -<p>Johnny looked over at the tall, easy-going Canadian who was his second -in command and scowled dourly. He was in no humor for their usual -banter. "What's the matter with <i>cous cous</i>?" Johnny growled.</p> - -<p>"I don't know," Derek said. "I'm a meat and potatoes man at heart."</p> - -<p>Johnny shrugged. "<i>Cous cous</i> serves the same purpose as potatoes do. -Or rice, or spaghetti, or bread, or any of the other bland basic -foods. It's what you put on it that counts."</p> - -<p>Derek stared gloomily into his dish. "Well, I wish they'd get something -more interesting than ten-year-old mutton to put on this."</p> - -<p>Johnny said, "Where in the devil is Pierre? It's nearly dark."</p> - -<p>"Reuben?" Derek drawled. "Why Reuben went out to check the crops up in -the northeast forty. Took the horse and buggy."</p> - -<p>That didn't help Johnny's irritation. "He took an air-cushion jeep, -instead of a copter? Why, for heaven's sake?"</p> - -<p>"He wanted to check quite a few of the pumps. Said landing and taking -off was more trouble than the extra speed helped. He'll be back -shortly."</p> - -<p>"He's back now," a voice from the door said.</p> - -<p>Pierre Marimbert, brushing sand from his clothes, pushed into the room -and made his way to the mess-hall refrigerator. He said nothing further -until he had a can of beer open.</p> - -<p>Johnny said, "Damn it, Pierre, you shouldn't stay out this late in a -jeep. If you got stuck out there, we'd have one hell of a time finding -you. In a copter you've at least got the radio."</p> - -<p>Pierre had washed the dust from his throat. Now he said quietly, "I -wanted to check on as many pumps as I could."</p> - -<p>"You could have gone back tomorrow. The things are supposed to be -self-sufficient, no checking necessary more than once every three -months. There's practically nothing that can go wrong with them."</p> - -<p>Pierre finished off the can of beer, reached into the refrigerator for -another. "Dynamite can go wrong with them," he said.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The other two looked at him, shocked silent.</p> - -<p>Pierre said, "I don't know how many altogether. I found twenty-two of -the pumps in the vicinity of In Ziza had been blown to smithereens—out -of forty I checked."</p> - -<p>Johnny rapped, "How long ago? How many trees...?"</p> - -<p>Pierre laughed sourly. "I don't know how long ago. The transplants, -especially the slash pine, are going to be just so much kindling before -I get new pumps in."</p> - -<p>Derek said, shocked, "That's our oldest stand."</p> - -<p>Pierre Marimbert, a forty-year-old, sun-beaten Algerian <i>colon</i>, eldest -man on the team, sank into his place at the table. He poured the -balance of his can of beer into a glass.</p> - -<p>Johnny said, "What ... what can we do? How many spare pumps can you get -into there, and how soon?"</p> - -<p>Pierre looked up at him wearily. "You didn't quite hear what I said, -Johnny. I only checked forty. Forty out of nearly a thousand in that -vicinity. Twenty-two of them were destroyed, better than fifty percent. -For all I know, that percentage applies throughout the whole In Ziza -area. If so, there's damn few of your trees going to be left alive. -We have a few spare pumps on hand here, but we'd have to get a really -large number all the way from Dakar."</p> - -<p>Derek said softly, "That took a lot of men and a lot of dynamite. Which -means a lot of transport—and a lot of money. We've had trouble before, -but usually it was disgruntled nomads, getting revenge for losing their -grazing land."</p> - -<p>Johnny snorted, "Damn little grazing this far north."</p> - -<p>Derek nodded. "I'm simply saying that even if we could blame our minor -sabotage on the Tuareg in the past, we can't do it this time. There's -money behind anything this big."</p> - -<p>Johnny McCord said wearily, "Let's eat. In the morning we'll go out and -take a look. I'd better call Timbuktu on this. If nothing else, the -Mali Federation can send troops out to protect us."</p> - -<p>Derek grunted. "With a standing army of about 25,000 men, they're going -to patrol a million and a half square miles of desert?"</p> - -<p>"Can you think of anything else to do?"</p> - -<p>"No."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Pierre Marimbert began dishing <i>cous cous</i> into a soup plate, then -poured himself a glass of <i>vin ordinaire</i>. He said, "I can't think of a -better place for saboteurs. Twenty men could do millions of dollars of -destruction and never be found."</p> - -<p>Johnny growled, "It's not as bad as all that. They've got to eat and -drink, and so do their animals. There are damned few places where they -can."</p> - -<p>From the door a voice said, "I am intruding?"</p> - -<p>They hadn't heard her car come up. The three men scrambled to their -feet.</p> - -<p>"Good evening," Johnny McCord blurted.</p> - -<p>"Hell ... o!" Derek breathed.</p> - -<p>Pierre Marimbert was across the room, taking her in hand. "<i>Bonjour, -Mademoiselle. Que puis-je faire pour vous? Voulez-vous une biere bien -fraiche ou un apéritif? Il fait trés chaud dans le desert.</i>" He led her -toward the table.</p> - -<p>"Easy, easy there, Reuben," Derek grumbled. "The young lady speaks -English. Give a man a chance."</p> - -<p>Johnny was placing a chair for her. "Paul Peterson, from Poste -Weygand, radioed that you were coming. You're a little late, -Mademoiselle Desage."</p> - -<p>She was perhaps thirty, slim, long-legged, Parisian style. Even at -Bidon Cinq, half a world away from the Champs Elysées, she maintained -her chic.</p> - -<p>She made a moue at Johnny, while taking the chair he held. "I had hoped -to surprise you, catch you off guard." She took in the sun-dried, -dour-faced American wood technologist appraisingly, then turned her -eyes in turn to Derek and Pierre.</p> - -<p>"You three are out here all alone?" she said demurely.</p> - -<p>"Desperately," Derek said.</p> - -<p>Johnny McCord said, "Mademoiselle Hélène Desage, I am John McCord, -and these are my associates, Monsieur Pierre Marimbert and Mr. Derek -Mason. Gentlemen, Mademoiselle Desage is with <i>Paris Match</i>, the French -equivalent of <i>Life</i>, so I understand. In short, she is undoubtedly -here for a story. So ixnay on the ump-pays."</p> - -<p>"I would love cold beer," Hélène Desage said to Pierre, and to Johnny -McCord, "These days a traveling reporter for <i>Paris Match</i> must be -quite a linguist. My English, Spanish and Italian are excellent. My -German passable. And while I am not fluent in Pig-Latin, I can follow -it. What is this you are saying about the pumps?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, Lord," Johnny said. "Perhaps I'll tell you in the morning. But for -now, would you like to clean up before supper? You must be exhausted -after that 260 kilometers from Poste Weygand."</p> - -<p>Pierre said hurriedly, "I'll take Mademoiselle Desage over to one of -the guest bungalows."</p> - -<p>"Zut!" she said. "The sand! It is even worse than between Reggan and -Poste Weygand. Do you realize that until I began coming across your new -forests I saw no life at all between these two posts?"</p> - -<p>The three forestry experts bowed in unison, as though rehearsed. -"Mademoiselle," Derek, from the heart, "calling our transplant forests -is the kindest thing you could have said in these parts."</p> - -<p>They all laughed and Pierre led her from the room.</p> - -<p>Derek looked at Johnny McCord. "Wow, that was a slip mentioning the -pumps."</p> - -<p>Johnny was looking through the door after her. "I suppose so," he -said sourly. "I'll have to radio the brass and find out the line -we're supposed to take with her. That's the biggest magazine in the -French-speaking world and you don't get a job on it without knowing the -journalistic ropes. That girl can probably smell a story as far as a -Tuareg can smell water."</p> - -<p>"Well, then undoubtedly she's already sniffing. Because, between that -clan of Tuareg with its flocks and the pump saboteurs, we've got more -stories around here than I ever expected!"</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p class="ph4">III</p> - -<p>In the morning Hélène Desage managed to look the last word in what -desert fashion should be, when she strolled into Johnny McCord's -office. Although she came complete with a sun helmet that must have -been the product of a top Parisian shop, she would have been more at -place on the beaches at Miami, Honolulu or Cannes. Her shorts were -short and fitting, her blouse silken, her walking shoes dainty.</p> - -<p>He considered for a moment and then decided against informing her -that Moslems, particularly in this part of the world, were little -used to seeing semi-nude women strolling about. He'd leave the job of -explanation to Pierre, as a fellow Frenchman and the oldest man present -to boot.</p> - -<p>"<i>Bonjour</i>," she said. "What a lovely day. I have been strolling about -your little oasis. But you have made it a garden!"</p> - -<p>"Thanks," Johnny said. "We've got to have something to do after working -hours. Entertainment is on the scarce side. But it's more than a -garden. We've been experimenting to see just what trees will take to -this country—given water and care through the early years. Besides, we -use it as a showplace."</p> - -<p>"Showplace?"</p> - -<p>"For skeptical politicians who come through," Johnny said, seating her -in a chair near his desk. "We give them the idea that the whole Sahara -could eventually be like this square mile or so at Bidon Cinq. Palm -trees, fruit trees, pines, shade trees. The works."</p> - -<p>"And could it?"</p> - -<p>Johnny grinned sourly. "Well, not exactly. Not all in one spot, at -least. You've got to remember, the Sahara covers an area of some -three and a half million square miles. In that area you find almost -everything."</p> - -<p>"Everything except water, eh?" She was tapping a cigarette on a -polish-reddened thumbnail. As he lit it for her, Johnny McCord realized -that he hadn't seen fingernail polish for a year. He decided it was too -long.</p> - -<p>"Even water, in some parts," he said. "There's more water than most -people realize. For instance, the Niger, which runs right through a -considerable part of the Sahara, is the eleventh largest river in the -world. But until our commission went to work on it, it dumped itself -into the Gulf of Guinea, unused."</p> - -<p>"The Niger is a long way from here," she said through her smoke.</p> - -<p>He nodded. "For that matter, though, we have a certain amount of rain, -particularly in the highland regions of the central massif. In the -past, with no watershed at all, it ran off, buried itself in the sands, -or evaporated."</p> - -<p>"Mr. McCord," she said, "you are amazingly optimistic. Formerly, I must -admit I had little knowledge of the Sahara Reforestation Commission. -And I deliberately avoided studying up on the subject after receiving -this assignment, because I wanted first impression to be received on -the spot. However, I've just driven across the Sahara. My impression -is that your Commission is one great—<i>Comment dit-on?</i>—boon-doggling -project, a super-W.P.A. into which to plow your American resources and -manpower. It is a fake, a delusion. This part of the world has never -been anything but wasteland, and never will be."</p> - -<p>Johnny McCord heard her out without change in expression.</p> - -<p>He'd been through this before. In fact, almost every time a junketing -congressman came through. There was danger in the viewpoint, of course. -If the fantastic sums of money which were being spent were cut off, -such pessimistic views would become automatically correct.</p> - -<p>He took the paperweight from a stack of the correspondence on his desk -and handed it to her.</p> - -<p>She looked at it and scowled—very prettily, but still a scowl. "What -is this? It's a beautiful piece of stone."</p> - -<p>"I picked it up myself," Johnny said. "Near Reggan. It's a chunk of -petrified wood, Miss Desage. From a tree that must have originally had -a diameter of some ten feet. Not quite a redwood, of course, but big."</p> - -<p>"Yes," she said, turning it over in her hand. "I can see this part, -which must have once been bark. But why do you show it to me?"</p> - -<p>"The Sahara was once a semi-tropical, moist area, highly wooded. It can -become so again."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>She put the piece of fossil back on his desk. "How long ago?" she said -bluntly.</p> - -<p>"A very long time ago, admittedly. During the last Ice Age and -immediately afterwards. But, given man's direction, it can be done -again. And it must be."</p> - -<p>She raised pencilled eyebrows at him. "Must be?"</p> - -<p>Johnny McCord shifted in his chair. "You must be aware of the world's -population explosion, Miss Desage. The human race can't allow three -and a half million square miles of land to be valueless." He grunted -in deprecation. "And at the rate it was going, it would have been four -million before long."</p> - -<p>She didn't understand.</p> - -<p>Johnny spelled it out for her. "A desert can be man-made. Have you -ever been in the Middle East?" At her nod, he went on. "Visitors there -usually wonder how in the world the ancient Jews could ever have -thought of that area as a land of milk and honey. On the face of it, -it's nothing but badlands. What was once the Fertile Crescent now looks -like Arizona."</p> - -<p>Hélène Desage was frowning at him. "And you suggest man did this—not -nature?"</p> - -<p>"The goat did it. The goat, and the use of charcoal as fuel. Along -with ignorance of soil erosion and the destruction of the wonderful -watershed based on the Cedars of Lebanon. Same thing applies to large -areas of Libya and Tunisia, and to Morocco and Spain. Those countries -used to be some of the richest agricultural areas of the Roman Empire. -But you can't graze goats, probably the most destructive animal -domesticated, and you can't depend on charcoal for fuel, unless you -want to create desert."</p> - -<p>"Those things happened a long time ago."</p> - -<p>Johnny snorted. "When we first began operations, the Sahara was going -south at the rate of two miles a year. Goats prefer twigs and bark even -to grass. They strip a country."</p> - -<p>"Well," the reporter said, shrugging shapely shoulders, "at any rate, -the task is one of such magnitude as to be fantastic. Yesterday, I -drove for nearly eight hours without seeing even a clump of cactus."</p> - -<p>"The route you traveled is comparatively untouched by our efforts, thus -far," Johnny nodded agreeably. "However, we're slowly coming down from -Algeria, up from the Niger, and, using the new chemical methods of -freshening sea water, east from Mauretania."</p> - -<p>He came to his feet and pointed out spots on the large wall map. "Our -territory, of course, is only this area which once was called French -West Africa, plus Algeria. The battle is being fought elsewhere by -others. The Egyptians and Sudanese are doing a fairly good job in their -country, with Soviet Complex help. The Tunisians are doing a wonderful -job with the assistance of Common Europe, especially Italy."</p> - -<p>She stood beside him and tried to understand. "What is this area, here, -shaded green?"</p> - -<p>He said proudly, "That's how far we've got so far, heading north from -the Niger. In the past, the desert actually came down to the side of -the river in many places. The water was completely wasted. Now we've -diverted it and are reforesting anywhere up to three miles a year."</p> - -<p>"Three miles a year," she scoffed. "You'll take five centuries."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>He shook his head and grinned. "It's a progressive thing. Water is -admittedly the big problem. But as our forests grow, they themselves -bring up the moisture content of the climate. Down in this area—" he -made a sweeping gesture over the map which took in large sections north -of the Niger—"we've put in hundreds of millions of slash pine, which -is particularly good for sandy soil and fast growing. In ten years -you've gone from two-year-old seedlings to a respectable forest."</p> - -<p>Johnny pointed out Bidon Cinq on the map. "At the same time we found -what amounts to a subterranean sea in this area. Not a real sea, of -course, but a water-bearing formation or aquifer, deep down under -the surface of the earth—layers of rock and gravel in which large -quantities of water are lying. The hydro-geological technicians who -surveyed it estimate that it holds reserves of several billion tons -of water. Utilizing it, we've put in several hundred square miles -of seedlings and transplants of various varieties. Where there are -natural oases, of course, we stress a lot of date palm. In rocky areas -it's <i>acacia tortila</i>. In the mountains we sometimes use varieties -of the pinyon—they'll take quite a beating but are a little on the -slow-growing side."</p> - -<p>She was looking at him from the sides of her eyes. "You're all taken up -by this, aren't you Mr. McCord?"</p> - -<p>Johnny said, surprise in his voice. "Why, it's my work."</p> - -<p>Derek came sauntering in and scaled his sun helmet onto his own desk. -"Good morning, Mademoiselle," he said. And to Johnny, "Hiram, that city -slicker from Timbuktu just came up with his posse."</p> - -<p>Hélène said, "What is this <i>Si</i>, <i>Hiram</i> and <i>Reuben</i> which you call -each other?"</p> - -<p>Johnny smiled sourly, "In a way, Miss Desage, this is just one great -tree farm. And all of us are farmers. So we make jokes about it." -He thought for a moment. "Derek, possibly you better take over with -Mohammed. I want to get over to In Ziza with Reuben."</p> - -<p>"To see about the pumps?" Hélène said innocently.</p> - -<p>Johnny frowned but was saved from an answer by the entrance of Mohammed -Mohmoud. He was dark as a Saharan becomes dark, his original Berber -blood to be seen only in his facial characteristics. He wore the rather -flamboyant Mali Federation desert uniform with an air.</p> - -<p>When he saw the girl, his eyebrows rose and he made the Moslem salaam -with a sweeping flourish.</p> - -<p>Johnny said, "Mademoiselle Desage, may I present Captain Mohammed -Mohmoud ould Cheikh, of the Mali desert patrol." He added sourly, "The -officer in charge of preventing nomads from filtering up from the south -into our infant forests."</p> - -<p>The Moslem scowled at him. "They could have come from the east, -from Timmissao," he said in quite passable English. "Or even from -Mauritania." He turned his eyes to Hélène Desage. "<i>Enchanté, -Mademoiselle. Trés heureux de faire ta connaissance.</i>"</p> - -<p>She gave him the full benefit of her eyes. "<i>Moi aussi, Monsieur.</i>"</p> - -<p>Johnny wasn't through with the Malian officer. "There's a hundred of -them," he snapped, "with several thousand head of goats and other -livestock. It would have been impossible to push that number across -from Mauritania or even from the east, and you know it."</p> - -<p>A lighter complexion would have shown a flush. Mohammed Mohmoud's -displeasure was limited in expression to a flashing of desert eyes. He -said, "Wherever their origin, the task would seem to be immediately to -destroy the animals. That is why my men and I are here."</p> - -<p>Pierre Marimbert had entered while the conversation was going on. He -said, "Johnny, weren't you going over to In Ziza with me?"</p> - -<p>Hélène Desage said, the tip of her right forefinger to her chin as she -portrayed thought, "I can't decide where to go. To this crisis of the -Tuareg, or to the crisis of the pumps—whatever that is."</p> - -<p>Johnny said flatly, "Sorry, but you'd just be in the way at either -place."</p> - -<p>Mohammed Mohmoud was shrugging. "Why not let her come with me? I can -guarantee her protection. I have brought fifty men with me, more than a -match for a few bedouin."</p> - -<p>"Gracious," she said. "Evidently I was unaware of the magnitude of this -matter. I absolutely <i>must</i> go."</p> - -<p>Johnny said, "No."</p> - -<p>She looked at him appraisingly. "Mr. McCord," she said, "I am here -for a story. Has it occurred to you that preventing a <i>Paris Match</i> -reporter from seeing your methods of operation is probably a bigger -story than anything else I could find here?" She struck a mock pose. -"I can see the headlines. <i>Sahara Reforestation Authorities Prevent -Journalists from Observing Operations</i>."</p> - -<p>"Oh, Good Lord," Johnny growled. "This should happen to me, yet! Go on -with Derek and the captain, if you wish."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Pierre Marimbert and Johnny McCord took one of the faster helicopters, -Pierre piloting. With French élan he immediately raised the craft a -few feet and then like a nervous horse it backed up, wheeled about and -dashed forward in full flight.</p> - -<p>Spread below them were the several dozen buildings which comprised -Bidon Cinq; surrounding the buildings, the acres of palm and pine, -eucalyptus and black locust. Quick-growing, dry-climate trees -predominated, but there were even such as balsam fir, chestnut and elm. -It made an attractive sight from the air.</p> - -<p>The reforestation projects based on Bidon Cinq were not all in the -immediate vicinity of the home oasis. By air, In Ziza was almost 125 -kilometers to the northeast. By far the greater part of the land -lying in between was still lacking in vegetation of any sort. The -hydro-geological engineers who had originally surveyed the area for -water had selected only the best sections for immediate sinking of -wells, placement of solar power pumps, and eventually the importation -of two-year seedlings and three- and four-year-old transplants. The -heavy auto-planters, brought in by air transport, had ground their way -across the desert sands in their hundreds, six feet between machines. -Stop, dig the hole, set the seedling, splash in water, artfully tamp -down the soil, move on another six feet, stop—and begin the operation -all over again. Fifty trees an hour, per machine.</p> - -<p>In less than two months, the planters had moved on to a new base -further north. The mob of scientists, engineers, water and forest -technicians, mechanics and laborers melted away, leaving Johnny McCord, -his two assistants, his half dozen punch-card machines, his automated -equipment and his forty or fifty native workers. It was one of a -hundred such centers. It would eventually be one of thousands. The -Sahara covered an area almost the size of Europe.</p> - -<p>Johnny McCord growled, "Friend Mohammed seems quite taken with our -reporter."</p> - -<p>Pierre grinned and tried to imitate a New England twang. "Why not, -Hiram? She's the first, eh, women folks seen in these parts for many -a day." He looked down at the endless stretches of sand dunes, gravel -and rock out-croppings. "Mighty dry farm land you've got around here, -Hiram."</p> - -<p>Johnny McCord grunted. "Derek said the other day it's so dry even the -mirages are only mud holes." He pointed with his forefinger. "There's -the first of our trees. Now, what pumps did you check?"</p> - -<p>Pierre directed the copter lower, skimmed not much higher than the -young tree tops. Some of them had already reached an impressive height. -But Johnny McCord realized that the time was not too distant when -they'd have to replant. Casualties were considerably higher than in -forest planting at home. Considerably so. And replanting wasn't nearly -so highly automated as the original work. More manpower was required.</p> - -<p>"These pumps here seem all right," he said to Pierre.</p> - -<p>"A little further north," Pierre said. "I came in over the track there, -from the road that comes off the main route to Poste Weygand. Yes, -there we are. Look! Completely destroyed."</p> - -<p>Johnny swore. The trees that had depended on that particular pump -wouldn't last a month, in spite of the fact that they were among the -first set in this area.</p> - -<p>He said, "Go higher. We should be able to spot the complete damage with -glasses. You saw twenty-two, you say?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, I don't know how many more there might be."</p> - -<p>There were twenty-five destroyed pumps in all. And all of them were -practically together.</p> - -<p>It was sheer luck that Pierre Marimbert had located them so soon. Had -his routine check taken place in some other section of the vast tree -development, he would have found nothing untoward.</p> - -<p>"This isn't nearly so bad as I had expected," Johnny growled. He was -scowling thoughtfully.</p> - -<p>"What's the matter?" Pierre said.</p> - -<p>"I just don't get it," Johnny said. "Number one, nomads don't carry -dynamite, unless it's been deliberately given them. Two, if it -was given them by someone with a purpose, why only enough to blow -twenty-five pumps? That isn't a drop in the bucket. A few thousand -trees are all we'll lose. Three, where did they come from? Where are -their tracks? And where have they gone? This job wasn't done so very -long ago, probably within a week or two at most."</p> - -<p>"How do you know that?"</p> - -<p>"Otherwise those trees affected would already be dying. At their age, -they couldn't stand the sun long without water."</p> - -<p>Pierre said, his face registering disbelief, "Do you think it could be -simple vandalism on the part of a small band of Tuareg?"</p> - -<p>"Sure, if the pumps had been destroyed by hand. But with explosives? -Even if your band of Tuareg did have explosives they wouldn't waste -them on a few Sahara Reforestation Commission pumps."</p> - -<p>"This whole thing just doesn't make sense," Pierre Marimbert decided.</p> - -<p>"Let's land and take a look at one of those pumps," Johnny said. "You -know, if you get the whole crew to work on this you might be able -to replace them before we lose any of these transplants. It's all -according to how long ago they were destroyed."</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p class="ph4">IV</p> - -<p>Back at Bidon Cinq again that afternoon, Johnny McCord was greeted by -the native office assistant he'd left in charge while all three of the -officers were gone. Mellor, at the Tissalit base, had made several -attempts to get in touch with him.</p> - -<p>"Mellor!" Pierre grunted. "How do you Americans say it? Stuffed shirt!"</p> - -<p>"Yeah," Johnny McCord said, sitting down to the telephone. "But my -boss."</p> - -<p>While Pierre was fishing two cans of beer from the refrigerator, Johnny -dialed Tissalit. Kate's face lit up the screen. Johnny said, "Hi. I -understand the old man wants to talk to me."</p> - -<p>"That's right," the girl said, and moved a switch. "Just a minute, -Johnny."</p> - -<p>Her face faded to be replaced by that of Mellor. Johnny noted that as -usual the other wore a business suit, complete with white shirt and -tie—in the middle of the Sahara!</p> - -<p>Mellor was scowling. "Where've you been, McCord?"</p> - -<p>"Checking some pumps near In Ziza," Johnny said evenly.</p> - -<p>"Leaving no one at all at camp?" the other said.</p> - -<p>Johnny said, "There were at least a score of men here, Mr. Mellor."</p> - -<p>"No officers. Suppose an emergency came up?"</p> - -<p>Johnny felt like saying, <i>An emergency did come up, two of them in -fact. That's why we were all gone at once.</i> But for some reason he -decided against explaining current happenings at Bidon Cinq until he -had a clearer picture. He said, "There are only three of us here, Mr. -Mellor. We have to stretch our manpower. Derek Mason had to go over to -Amérene el Kasbach with Mohammed Mohmoud and his men to clear out those -nomads and their livestock."</p> - -<p>"What did they find? Where were the Tuareg from?"</p> - -<p>"They haven't returned yet." Automatically, Johnny took up his can of -beer and took a swallow from it.</p> - -<p>Mellor's eyebrows went up. "Drinking this early in the day, McCord?"</p> - -<p>Johnny sighed deeply, "Look, Mr. Mellor, Pierre Marimbert and I just -returned from several hours in the desert, inspecting pumps. We're -dehydrated, so we're drinking cold beer. It tastes wonderful. I doubt -if it will lead either of us to a drunkard's grave."</p> - -<p>Mellor scowled pompously. He said finally, "See here, McCord—the -reason I called—you can be expecting a reporter from one of the French -publications—"</p> - -<p>"She's here."</p> - -<p>"Oh," Mellor said. "I just received notice this morning. Orders are to -give her the utmost cooperation. Things are on the touchy side right -now. Very touchy."</p> - -<p>"How do you mean?" Johnny said.</p> - -<p>"There are pressures on the highest levels," Mellor said, managing to -put over the impression that these matters were above and beyond such -as Johnny McCord but that he, Mellor, was privy to them.</p> - -<p>"What pressures?" Johnny said wearily. "If you want me to handle this -woman with kid gloves, then I've got to know what I'm protecting her -against, or hiding from her, or whatever the hell I'm supposed to do."</p> - -<p>Mellor glared at him. "I'm not sure I always appreciate your flippancy, -McCord," he said. "However, back home the opposition is in an uproar -over our expenditures. Things are very delicate. A handful of votes -could sway the continuance of the whole project."</p> - -<p>Johnny McCord closed his eyes in pain. This came up every year or so.</p> - -<p>Mellor said, "That isn't all. The Russkies are putting up a howl in the -Reunited Nations. They claim the West plans to eventually take over all -northwest Africa. That this reforestation is just preliminary to make -the area worth assimilating."</p> - -<p>Johnny chuckled sourly, "Let's face it. They're right."</p> - -<p>Mellor was shocked. "Mr. McCord! The West has never admitted to any -such scheme."</p> - -<p>Johnny sighed. "However, we aren't plowing billions into the Sahara out -of kindness of heart. The Mali Federation alone has almost two million -square miles in it, and less than twenty million population. Already, -there's fewer people than are needed to exploit the new lands we've -opened up."</p> - -<p>"Well, that brings up another point," Mellor said. "The Southeast Asia -Bloc is putting up a howl too. They claim they should be the ones -allowed to reclaim this area and that it should go into farmland -instead of forest."</p> - -<p>"They're putting the cart before the horse," Johnny said. "At this -stage of the game, the only land they could use really profitably for -farming would be along the Niger. We're going to have to forest this -whole area first, and in doing so, change the whole climate. <i>Then</i> -it'll...."</p> - -<p>Mellor interrupted him. "I'm as familiar with the program of the Sahara -Reforestation Commission as you are, I am sure, McCord. I need no -lecture. See that Miss Desage gets as sympathetic a picture of our work -as possible. And, for heaven's sake, don't let anything happen that -might influence her toward writing something that would change opinions -either at home or in the Reunited Nations."</p> - -<p>"I'll do my best," Johnny said sourly.</p> - -<p>The other clicked off.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Pierre was handy with another can of beer, already opened. "So -Mademoiselle Desage is to be handled with loving care."</p> - -<p>Johnny groaned, "And from what we've seen so far of Mademoiselle -Desage, she's going to take quite a bit of loving care to handle."</p> - -<p>Outside, they could hear the beating of rotors coming in. Two -helicopters, from the sound of it. Beer cans in hand they went over to -the window and watched them approach.</p> - -<p>"Derek and the girl in one, Mohammed in the other," Pierre said. -"Evidently our good captain left the messy work of butchering goats to -his men, while he remains on the scene to be as available to our girl -Hélène as she will allow."</p> - -<p>The copters swooped in, landed, the rotors came to a halt and the -occupants stepped from the cockpits. The Arab ground crew came running -up to take over.</p> - -<p>Preceded by Hélène Desage, the two men made their way toward the main -office. Even at this distance there seemed to be an aggressive lift to -the girl's walk.</p> - -<p>"Oh, oh, my friend," Pierre said. "I am afraid Mademoiselle Desage is -unhappy about something."</p> - -<p>Johnny groaned. "I think you're right. But smile, Reuben, smile. You -heard the city slicker's orders. Handle her with all the care of a -new-born heifer."</p> - -<p>Hélène Desage stormed through the door and glared at Johnny McCord. "Do -you realize what your men are doing?"</p> - -<p>"I thought I did," Johnny said placatingly.</p> - -<p>Derek and Mohammed Mohmoud entered behind her. Derek winked at Johnny -McCord and made a beeline for the refrigerator. "Beer, everybody?" he -said.</p> - -<p>Mohammed Mohmoud said, "A soft drink for me, if you please, Mr. Mason."</p> - -<p>Derek said, "Sorry, I forgot. Beer, Miss Desage?"</p> - -<p>She turned and glared at him. "You did nothing whatsoever to prevent -them!"</p> - -<p>Derek shrugged. "That's why we went out there, honey. Did you notice -how much damage those goats had done to the trees? Thousands of dollars -worth."</p> - -<p>Johnny said wearily, "What happened?" He sank into the chair behind his -desk.</p> - -<p>The reporter turned to him again. "Your men are shooting the livestock -of those poverty-stricken people."</p> - -<p>Mohammed Mohmoud said, "We are keeping an accurate count of every beast -destroyed, Mr. McCord." His dark face was expressionless.</p> - -<p>Johnny McCord attempted to explain to the girl. "As I told you, Miss -Desage, goats are the curse of the desert. They prefer leaves, twigs -and even the bark of young trees to grass. The Commission before ever -taking on this tremendous project arranged through the Mali Federation -government to buy up and have destroyed every grazing animal north of -the Niger. It cost millions upon millions. But our work couldn't even -begin until it was accomplished."</p> - -<p>"But why slaughter the livelihood of those poor people? You could quite -easily insist that they return with their flocks to whatever areas are -still available to them."</p> - -<p>Derek offered her a can of beer. She seemed to be going to reject it, -but a desert-born thirst changed her mind. She took it without thanking -him.</p> - -<p>The lanky Canadian said mildly, "I tried to explain to her that the -Tuareg aren't exactly innocent children of the desert. They're known -as the Apaches of the Sahara. For a couple of thousand years they've -terrified the other nomads. They were slave raiders, bandits. When the -Commission started its work the other tribes were glad to sell their -animals and take up jobs in the new oases. Send their kids to the -new schools we've been building in the towns. Begin fitting into the -reality of modern life."</p> - -<p>Her eyes were flashing now. "The Apaches of the Sahara, eh? <i>Bien sur!</i> -If I remember correctly, the American Apaches were the last of the -Indian tribes which you Americans destroyed. The last to resist. Now -you export your methods to Africa!"</p> - -<p>Johnny McCord said mildly, "Miss Desage, it seems to be the thing -these days to bleed over the fate of the redman. Actually, there are a -greater number of them in the United States today than there were when -Columbus landed. But even if you do carry a torch for the noble Indian, -picking the Apaches as an example is poor choice. They were bandit -tribes, largely living off what they could steal and raid from the -Pueblo and other harder working but less warlike Indians. The Tuareg -are the North African equivalent."</p> - -<p>"Who are you to judge?" she snapped back. "Those tribesmen out there -are the last defenders of their ancient desert culture. Their flocks -are their way of life. You mercilessly butcher them, rob their women -and children of their sole source of food and clothing."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Johnny McCord ran his hand over his face in an unhappy gesture. "Look," -he said plaintively. "Those goats and sheep have already been bought -and paid for by the Commission. The Tuareg should have destroyed -them, or sold them as food to be immediately butchered, several years -ago. Where they've been hiding is a mystery. But they simply have no -right to be in possession of those animals, no right to be in this -part of the country, and, above all, no right to be grazing in our -transplants."</p> - -<p>"It's their country! What right have you to order them away?"</p> - -<p>Johnny McCord held up his hands, palms upward. "This country is part -of the Mali Federation, Miss Desage. It used to be called French Sudan -and South Algeria. The government of the Federation gladly accepted the -project of reforestating the Sahara. Why not? We've already succeeded -in making one of the most poverty-stricken areas in the world a -prosperous one. Far from there being unemployment here, we have a labor -shortage. Schools have opened, even universities. Hospitals have sprung -up. Highways have been laid out through country that hadn't even trails -before. The Federation is booming. If there are a few Tuareg who can't -adapt to the new world, it's too bad. Their children will be glad for -the change."</p> - -<p>She seated herself stiffly. "I am not impressed by your excuses," she -said.</p> - -<p>Johnny shrugged and turned to Mohammed Mohmoud who had been standing -silently through all this, almost as though at attention.</p> - -<p>Johnny said, "Did you learn where this band comes from? Where they had -kept that many animals for so long without detection?"</p> - -<p>The Moslem officer shook his head. "They wouldn't reveal that."</p> - -<p>Johnny looked at Derek Mason. The Canadian shook his head. "None of -them spoke French, Johnny. Or if they did, they wouldn't admit it. -When we first came up they looked as though they were going to fight. -Happily, the size of the captain's command made them decide otherwise. -At any rate, they're putting up no resistance. I let them know through -the captain, here, that when they got back to Tissalit, or Timbuktu, -they could put in a demand for reimbursement for their animals—if the -animals were legally theirs."</p> - -<p>Johnny looked at the Malian officer again. "How come you've returned to -camp? Shouldn't you be out there with your men?"</p> - -<p>"There were a few things to be discussed," the Moslem said. He looked -significantly at the French reporter.</p> - -<p>Hélène Desage said, "Let me warn you, I will not tolerate being sent -away. I want to hear this. If I don't, I demand you let me communicate -immediately with my magazine and with the Transatlantic Newspaper -Alliance for whom I am also doing a series of articles on the Sahara -Reforestation <i>scheme</i>."</p> - -<p>Johnny McCord winced. He said, "There is nothing going on around here, -Miss Desage, that is secret. You won't be ordered away." He turned to -Mohammed Mohmoud. "What did you wish to discuss, Captain?"</p> - -<p>"First, what about the camels, asses and horses?"</p> - -<p>"Shoot them. Practically the only graze between here and Tissalit are -our trees."</p> - -<p>"And how will they get themselves and their property out of this -country?" the reporter snapped.</p> - -<p>Johnny said wearily, "We'll truck them out, Miss Desage. They and all -their property. And while we're doing it, we'll feed them. I imagine, -before it's all over it will cost the Commission several thousand -dollars." He turned back to the desert patrol captain. "What else?"</p> - -<p>From a tunic pocket Mohammed Mohmoud brought a handgun and handed it to -Johnny McCord. "I thought you might like to see this. They were quite -well armed. At first I thought there might be resistance."</p> - -<p>Johnny turned the automatic over in his hands, scowling at it. "What's -there to see that's special? I don't know much about guns."</p> - -<p>Mohammed Mohmoud said, "It was made in Pilsen."</p> - -<p>Johnny looked up at him. "Czechoslovakia, eh?"</p> - -<p>The other said, "So were most of their rifles."</p> - -<p>Hélène Desage snorted in deprecation. "So, we'll drag in that old -wheeze. The red menace. Blame it on <i>la Russie</i>."</p> - -<p>Johnny McCord said mildly, "We haven't blamed anything on the Russkies, -Miss Desage. The Tuareg have a right to bear arms, there are still -dangerous animals in the Mali Federation. And they are free to purchase -Czech weapons if they find them better or cheaper than western ones. -Don't find an exciting story where there is none. Things are tranquil -here."</p> - -<p>Hélène Desage stared at him. So did Mohammed Mohmoud and Derek Mason -for that matter.</p> - -<p>Only Pierre Marimbert realized Johnny McCord's position, and he -chuckled and went for more beer.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p class="ph4">V</p> - -<p>Johnny McCord was a man who didn't like to be thrown out of routine. He -resented the interference with his schedule of the past few days. By -nature he was methodical, not given to inspiration.</p> - -<p>All of which was probably the reason that he spent a sleepless night -trying to find rhyme and reason where seemingly there was none.</p> - -<p>At dawn, he stepped from the door of his Quonset hut quarters and -looked for a moment into the gigantic red ball which was the Saharan -sun. Neither dawn nor sunset at Bidon Cinq were spectacular, nor would -they become so until the Sahara Reforestation Commission began to -return moisture to desert skies. Johnny wondered if he would live to -see it.</p> - -<p>He made his way over to the huge steel shed which doubled as garage and -aircraft hanger. As yet, none of the native mechanics were stirring, -although he could hear sounds of activity in the community kitchen.</p> - -<p>Derek Mason looked up from his inspection of Hélène Desage's -air-cushion Land Rover.</p> - -<p>Johnny McCord scowled at him. "What in the hell are you doing here?"</p> - -<p>The lanky Canadian came erect and looked for a long moment at his -superior. He said finally, soberly, "It occurs to me that I'm probably -doing the same thing you came to do."</p> - -<p>"What have you found?"</p> - -<p>"That a small bomb has been attached to the starter."</p> - -<p>Johnny didn't change expression. It fitted in. "What else?" he said.</p> - -<p>Derek handed him a steel ring.</p> - -<p>Johnny McCord looked at it, recognized it for what it was and stuck it -in his pocket. "Let's go back to the office. Yell in to the cook to -send some coffee over, and call Pierre. We've got some notes to check."</p> - -<p>Mademoiselle Desage was a late riser. When she entered the office, the -three Sahara Reforestation Commission officers were already at work.</p> - -<p>She said snappishly to Johnny McCord, "Today I would like to see these -destroyed pumps."</p> - -<p>Johnny said, his eyebrows questioning, "How did you know they were -destroyed?"</p> - -<p>"It doesn't seem to be much of a secret. The story is all about the -camp."</p> - -<p>"Oh?" Johnny sighed, then drawled to Derek, "I say, Si, you better go -get the hired hand, we might as well finish this up so we can get back -to work."</p> - -<p>Derek nodded and left.</p> - -<p>Johnny McCord left the collator he'd been working with, went around -behind his desk and sat down. "Take a chair, Miss Desage. I want to say -a few things in the way of background to you."</p> - -<p>She sat, but said defiantly, "I have no need of a lengthy lecture on -the glories of the Sahara Reforestation Commission."</p> - -<p>"Coffee?" Pierre Marimbert said politely.</p> - -<p>"No, thank you."</p> - -<p>Johnny said, his voice thoughtful, "I imagine the real starting point -was back about 1957 when the Chinese discovered that a nation's -greatest natural resource is its manpower."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>She frowned at him. "What in the world are you talking about?"</p> - -<p>He ignored her and went on. "Originally, appalled by the job of feeding -over half a billion mouths, they had initiated a birth control plan. -But after a year or two they saw it was the wrong approach. They were -going to succeed, if they succeeded, in their <i>Great Leaps Forward</i> by -utilizing the labor of every man, woman and child in the country. And -that's what they proceeded to do. The lesson was brought home to the -rest of the world in less than ten years, when such other countries as -India and Indonesia failed to do the same."</p> - -<p>Johnny leaned back in his chair, and his eyes were thoughtful but -unseeing. "Even we of the west learned the lesson. The most important -factor in our leadership was our wonderful trained labor force. As -far back as 1960 we had more than 65 million Americans working daily -in industry and distribution. Even the Russkies, with their larger -population, didn't begin to equal that number."</p> - -<p>"What are you driveling about?" the reporter demanded.</p> - -<p>"To sum it up," Johnny said mildly, "the battle for men's minds -continues and each of the world's great powers has discovered that -it can't afford to limit its population—its greatest resource. So -population continues to explode and the world is currently frantically -seeking sources of food for its new billions. The Amazon basin is being -made into a tropical garden; the Japanese, landless, are devising a -hundred methods of farming the sea; Australia is debouching into its -long unpopulated interior, doing much the same things we are here -in the Sahara. The Chinese are over-flowing into Sinkiang, Mongolia -and Tibet; the Russkies into Siberia. We of the west, with the large -underdeveloped areas of the western hemisphere have not been so greatly -pushed as some others. However, there is always tomorrow."</p> - -<p>Derek entered with Captain Mohammed Mohmoud. The latter day Rudolph -Valentino had a puzzled expression on his dark face.</p> - -<p>"Here's the hired man, Hiram," Derek drawled.</p> - -<p>The desert patrol officer nodded questioningly to the men and said, -"<i>Bonjour</i>," to Hélène Desage.</p> - -<p>Johnny went on. "Yes, there's tomorrow. And by the time we run out -of <i>Lebensraum</i> in Brazil and Alaska, in Central America and the -Argentine, in Texas and Saskatchewan, we're going to need the three -million square miles of the Sahara."</p> - -<p>She said in ridicule, "It will take you a century at least to reforest -the desert."</p> - -<p>"At least." Johnny nodded agreeably. "And we're willing and able to -look that far ahead. Possibly by that time our opponents will also be -looking for new lands for their expanding peoples. And where will they -find them? The advantage will be ours, Miss Desage."</p> - -<p>Mohammed Mohmoud looked from one to the other, frowning. "What are we -discussing?" he said. "I should be getting back to my men."</p> - -<p>Derek yawned and said, "Forget about it, pal. You're never going to be -getting back to your men again."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The desert patrol officer's eyes widened. He turned his glare on Johnny -McCord, "What is all this?"</p> - -<p>Johnny said, "I'll tell it, Derek."</p> - -<p>Hélène Desage was as surprised as the Malian. "What is going on? Are -you trying to whitewash yourselves by casting blame on this gentleman?"</p> - -<p>"Let me go on," Johnny said. "Needless to say, there are conflicting -interests. The Soviet Complex obviously would as soon we didn't -succeed. However, wars are impractical today, and the Russkies and -Chinese are taken up with their own development. The Southeast Asia -bloc wouldn't mind taking over here themselves, they desperately need -land already. But they aren't our biggest opponents. There's another -group even more involved—the <i>colons</i> of Algeria and Morocco and those -of even such Mali cities as Dakar. I suppose it is this last element -that you represent, Miss Desage."</p> - -<p>She was staring unbelievingly at him now.</p> - -<p>"Their interest is to get the Sahara Reforestation Commission out -of the way so that they can immediately exploit the area. They are -interested in the <i>now</i>, not the potentialities of the future. They -resent the use of the Niger for reforestation, when they could use it -for immediate irrigation projects. They would devote the full resources -of the Mali Federation and Algeria to seeking oil and minerals and in -the various other ways the country might be exploited. Finally, they -rather hate to see the western schools, hospitals, and other means used -to raise the local living standards. They liked the low wage rates that -formerly applied."</p> - -<p>Johnny nodded. "Yes, I imagine that's your angle."</p> - -<p>Hélène Desage stormed to her feet. "I don't have to listen to this!"</p> - -<p>Derek said, "Honey, we sure aren't holding you. You're free to go any -time you want. And you can take this pal of yours along with you." He -jerked his head contemptuously at Mohammed Mohmoud.</p> - -<p>Pierre Marimbert said, "Mademoiselle, we have no idea of where you two -met originally, nor how close your relationship, but the captain should -have remembered that I too am French. A gentleman, on first meeting a -lady, would never, never address her as <i>tu in our</i> language."</p> - -<p>Johnny sighed again and looked at his watch. "Other things pile up too, -Miss Desage. You let slip a few moments ago that you knew about the -pumps being destroyed. You said the rumor was all around camp. But it -couldn't be. The only persons who knew about it were myself, Pierre -and Derek. On top of that, there were no signs of bedouin or animals -near the exploded pumps; the person who did the job must have come in -an aircraft or air-cushion car. And, besides, we found the pin of a -hand grenade in your land rover this morning. We had thought at first -that dynamite had been used, but evidently you smuggled your much more -compact bombs across the desert with you. Obviously, no one would have -dreamed of searching your vehicle.</p> - -<p>"No, Miss Desage, it's obvious that you detoured from the track on the -way down from Poste Weygand, went over to In Ziza, a comparatively -short distance, and blew up twenty-five of our pumps."</p> - -<p>Johnny turned to the Malian officer now. "At the same time you were -coordinating with her, you and whatever gang is hiring you. Someone -supplied those Tuareg with the livestock and paid them to trek up here. -You, of course, turned your back and let them through. The same someone -who supplied the livestock also supplied Czech weapons."</p> - -<p>Hélène Desage was still sputtering indignation. "Ridiculous! Why? What -would motivate me to such nonsense?"</p> - -<p>Johnny grimaced. "The whole thing makes a beautiful story at a time -when the American government is debating the practicality of the whole -project. You could do quite a sob story on the poor, poverty-stricken -Tuareg having their livestock destroyed. Then, quite a tale about the -bedouin raiding our pumping stations and blowing them up. And quite a -tale about the Tuareg being armed with Czech weapons. Oh, I imagine -before it was through you'd have drawn a picture of civil war going -on here between the nomads and the Commission. Blowing up your own car -with a small bomb attached to the starter was just one more item. By -the way, were you going to do it yourself? Or did you intend to allow -one of our mechanics to kill himself?"</p> - -<p>She flushed. "Don't be ridiculous. No one would have been hurt. The -bomb is a very small one. More smoke and flash than anything else."</p> - -<p>"Well, thanks for small favors," Derek said sarcastically.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>She gave up. "Very well," she snapped. "There is nothing you can -do. This whole project, as I said before, is nothing but American -boon-doggling, a way of plowing endless resources into a hole. Your -real motivation is an attempt to prevent depression and unemployment in -your country."</p> - -<p>Pierre Marimbert said softly, "So you admit to this whole scheme to -discredit us?"</p> - -<p>"Why not?" She turned to the door. "I will still write my articles. -It's my word or yours."</p> - -<p>Derek grinned at her. "I think I could fall in love with you, honey," -he said. "Life would provide few dull moments. However, you didn't -notice how nice and automated this office is. Card machines, electric -typewriters, all the latest—including tape recorders for office -conversations. You talked too much, honey."</p> - -<p>"<i>Cochon!</i>" she shrilled at him. She whirled and was through the door.</p> - -<p>Johnny turned to Mohammed Mohmoud. "I guess the best thing for you -would be to turn in your commission, Captain."</p> - -<p>Dark eyes snapped. "And if I say no?"</p> - -<p>Johnny shook his head. "The Mali Federation passed some awfully strict -laws when it was drawing up its constitution. Among them was one -involving capital punishment for anyone destroying a source of water in -the desert. Miss Desage did the actual work but you were hand in glove -with her. I'd hate to have to report that to your superiors."</p> - -<p>Derek jumped forward quickly. His hand snaked out and chopped the -other's forearm. The heavy military pistol fell to the floor, and the -Canadian kicked it to one side. "Shucks," he drawled, "the hired hand -sure is tricky, ain't he?"</p> - -<p>"Good Lord," Johnny McCord said disgustedly, "I didn't say I was going -to report you. Just threatened to if you didn't resign. Now get out of -here, we've got work to do. I'm three days behind on my reports!"</p> - - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Farmer, by Mack Reynolds - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FARMER *** - -***** This file should be named 51799-h.htm or 51799-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/1/7/9/51799/ - -Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan 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. 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