"Right," Homer said. "Whose turn is it to pull cook duty?"
Isobel said menacingly, "I don't know whose turn it is, but I know I'm
going to do the cooking. After that slumgullion Kenny whipped up
yesterday, I'm a perpetual volunteer for the job of chef--strictly in
self-defense."
"That was a cruel cut," Kenny protested, "however, I hereby relinquish
all my rights to cooking for this expedition."
"And me!"
"And me!"
"O.K.," Homer said, "so Isobel is Minister of the Royal Kitchen." He
looked at Elmer Allen. "Which reminds me. You're our junior
theoretician. Are we a monarchy?"
Elmer Allen scowled sourly and sat down, his back to the wadi wall. "I
wouldn't think so."
Isobel went off to make coffee in the portable galley in the rear of
the second hovercraft. The others brought forth tobacco and squatted
or sat near the dour Jamaican. Years in the desert had taught them the
nomad's ability to relax completely given opportunity.
"So if it's not a monarchy, what'll we call El Hassan?" Kenny
demanded.
Elmer said slowly, thoughtfully, "We'll call him simply _El Hassan_.
Monarchies are of the past, and El Hassan is the voice of the future,
something new. We won't admit he's just a latter-day tyrant, an
opportunist seizing power because it's there crying to be seized.
Actually, El Hassan is in the tradition of Genghis Khan, Tamerlane,
or, more recently, Napoleon. But he's a modern version, and we're not
going to hang the old labels on him."
Isobel had brought the coffee. "I think you're right," she said.
"Sold," Homer agreed. "So we aren't a monarchy. We're a tyranny." His
face had begun by expressing amusement, but that fell off. He added,
"As a young sociologist, I never expected to wind up a literal
tyrant."
Elmer Allen said, "Wait a minute. See if I can remember this. Comes
from Byron." He closed his eyes and recited:
"The tyrant of the Chersonese
Was freedom's best and bravest friend.
That tyrant was Miltiades,
Oh that the present hour would lend
Another despot of the kind.
Such bonds as his were sure to bind."
Isobel, pouring coffee, laughed and said, "Why Elmer, who'd ever dream
you read verse, not to speak of memorizing it, you old sourpuss."
Elmer Allen's complexion was too dark to register a flush.
Homer Crawford said, "Yeah, Miltiades. Seized power, whipped the
Athenians into shape to the point where they were able to take the
Persians at Marathon, which should have been impossible." He looked
around at the others, winding up with Elmer. "What happened to
Miltiades after Marathon and after the emergency was over?"
Elmer looked down into his coffee. "I don't remember," he lied.
* * * * *
There was a clicking from the first hover-lorry, and Cliff Jackson put
down his coffee, groaned his resentment at fate, and made his way to
the vehicle and the radio there.
Bey motioned with his head. "That's handy, our still being able to
tune in on the broadcasts the African Development Project makes to its
teams."
Kenny said, "Not that what they've been saying is much in the way of
flattery."
Bey said, "They seem to think we're somewhere in the vicinity of Bidon
Cinq."
"That's what worries me," Homer growled. He raked his right hand back
through his short hair. "If they think we're in Southern Algeria, what
are these planes doing around here? We're hundreds of miles from Bidon
Cinq."
Bey shot him an oblique glance. "That's easy. That plane that tried to
clobber us, and these others that have been trying to search us out,
aren't really Reunited Nations craft. They're someone else."
They all looked at him. "Who?" Isobel said.
"How should I know? It could be almost anybody with an iron in the
North African fire. The Soviet Complex? Very likely. The British
Commonwealth or the French Community? Why not? There're elements in
both that haven't really accepted giving up the old colonies and would
like to regain them in one way or the other. The Arab Union? Why
comment? Common Europe? Oh, Common Europe would love to have a free
hand exploiting North Africa."
"You haven't mentioned the United States of the Americas," Elmer said
dryly. "I hope you haven't any prejudices in favor of the land of your
adoption, Mr. Minister of War."
Bey shrugged. "I just hadn't got around to her. Admittedly with the
continued growth of the Soviet Complex and Common Europe, the States
have slipped from the supreme position they occupied immediately
following the Second War. The more power-happy elements are conscious
of the ultimate value of control of Africa and doubly conscious of the
danger of it falling into the hands of someone else. Oh, never fear,
those planes that have been pestering us might belong to anybody at
all."
Cliff Jackson hurried back from his radio, his face anxious. "Listen,"
he said. "That was a high priority flash, to all Reunited Nations
teams. The Arab Union has just taken Tamanrasset. They pushed two
columns out of Libya, evidently one from Ghat and one from further
north near Ghademes."