be a task that might be beyond his capability, for the adversary seemed invincible in his strength and power.
He turned away to tidy the pile of documents on the General's desk, not trusting himself to look again at his enemy, lest he betray himself completely.
Already he had exposed himself dangerously, but it had been necessary, an opportunity too heaven-sent to allow to pass. in exchange for exposing himself he had forced his enemy to do the same, he had forced him into the open, and he counted himself the winner in the exchange.
There was another factor now that had made his exposure less than suicidal. Whereas before he had been friendless and alone, now he was protected by his mere association with Sean Courtney.
If they had succeeded that night on the Ladyburg escarpment or again at Chaka's Gate, it would be the unimportant passing of a rootless vagrant; now his death or disappearance would rouse the immediate attention of General Courtney, and he doubted if even Dirk Courtney could afford that risk.
Mark looked up quickly from the papers, and Dirk Courtney was watching him again, but now his expression was neutral and his eyes were hooded and guarded. He began to speak, but checked himself as they heard the heavy dragging tread in the passage and they both turned expectantly to the door as it was flung open.
Sean Courtney seemed to fill the entire doorway, the top of the great shaggy head almost touching the lintel and the shoulders wide as the cross-trees of a gallows as he leaned both hands on the head of his cane and glared into the room.
His eyes went immediately to the tall elegant figure that rose from the leather armchair, the craggy sun- browaed features darkening with blood as he recognized him.
The two men confronted each other silently, and Mark found himself a fascinated spectator, as he followed intuitively the play of emotions, the reawakening of the memory of ancient wrongs, and of the elemental love and affection of son for father and father for son that had long ago been strangled and buried, but were now exhumed like some loathsome rotting corpse, more horrible for once having lived and been strong. Hello, Father, Dirk Courtney spoke first, and at the sound of his voice, the rigidity went out of Sean's shoulders, and the anger out of his eyes to be replaced by a sense of sadness, of regret for something that once had value but was lost beyond hope, so his question sounded like a sigh.
Why do you come here? Can we speak alone, without strangers? Mark left the desk and crossed to the door, but Sean stopped him with a hand on the shoulder. There are no strangers here. Stay, Mark. it was the kindest thing that anybody had ever said to Mark Anders, and the strength of the affection he felt for Sean Courtney at that moment was greater than he had ever felt for another human being.
Dirk Courtney shrugged, and smiled for the first time, a light faintly mocking smile. You were always too trusting, Father. Sean nodded as he crossed heavily to the chair behind his desk. Yes, and who should remember that better than you. Dirk's smile faded. I came here hoping that we might forget, that we might look for forgiveness from each other. Forgiveness? Sean asked, looking up quickly. You will grant me forgiveness, for what? You bred me, Father. I am what you made me-Sean shook his head, denying it, and would have spoken, but Dirk stopped him. You believe I have wronged you, but I know that you have wronged me.
Sean scowled. You talk in Circles. Come to the point.
What do you want that brings you uninvited to this house? I am your son. It is unnatural that we should be parted. Dirk was eloquent and convincing, holding out his hands in a gesture of supplication, moving closer to the massive figure at the desk. I believe I have the right to your consideration - he broke off and glanced at Mark. God damn it, can't I speak to you without this gawking audience? Sean hesitated a moment, was on the point of asking Mark to leave, and then remembered the promise he had made to Ruth only minutes before. Don't let him be alone with you for a moment, Sean. Promise me you will keep Mark with you. I don't trust him, not at all. He is evil, Sean, and he brings trouble and unhappiness, I can smell it on him. Don't be alone with him. No. He shook his head. If you have something to say, get it over with. If not, go, and leave us in peace here. All right, no more sentiment, Dirk nodded, and the role of the supplicant dropped from him. He turned and began to stride up and down the study floor, hands thrust deep into the pockets of his overcoat. I'll talk business, and get it over with. You hate me now, but when we have worked together, when I have shared with you the boldest and most imaginative venture this land has ever known, then we will talk again of sentiment.
Sean was silent. As a business man now and as a son later. Do you agree? I hear you, said Sean, and Dirk began to talk.
Even Mark could not but stand in admiration of Dirk Courtney's eloquence, and the winning and persuasive manner in which he used his fine deep voice and his magnificent good looks; but these were theatrical tricks, well rehearsed and stagey.
What was spontaneous was the burning, almost fanatical glow of commitment to his own ideas which radiated from him as he talked and gestured. it was easy to believe him, for he so clearly believed himself.
Using his hands and his voice, he conjured up before his father a vast empire, endless expanses of rich land, thousands upon thousands o square miles, a treasure the like of which few men had ever conceived, planted to cotton and sugar and maize, watered by a gigantic dam that would hold back an inland sea of sweet, fresh water it was a dream quite breathtaking in its scope and sweep. I have half of the land already, Dirk paused and cupped his hands with fingers stiff and grasping as the talons of an eagle, here in my hands. It's mine. No longer a dream. And the rest of it? Sean asked reluctantly, swept along on the torrent against his will. It's there, untouched, ripe, ready. Dirk paused dramatically. It is as though nature had designed it all for just this purpose. The foundations of the dam are there, built by God as though as a blessing. So? Sean grunted sceptically. Now you are an instrument of God's will, are you? And where is this empire he has promised you? I own all the land south of the Unikorno River, that is the half I have already. He stopped in front of the mahogany desk and leaned forward with his hands onthepolished wood, thrusting a face that glowed with the aura of a religious fanatic towards Sean Courtney. We will build a dam between the cliffs of Chaka's Gate and dam the whole of the Bubezi Valley, a lake one hundred and sixty miles long and a hundred wide, and we'll open the land between there and the Umkomo River and add it to the land I already own in the south. Two million acres of arable and irrigated land! Think of that! Mark stared at Dirk Courtney, utterly appalled by what he had just heard, and then his gaze switched to Sean Courtney, appealingly, wanting to hear him reject the whole monstrous idea.
That's tsetse belt, said Sean Courtney at last. Father, in Germany three men, Dressel, Kothe and Rochl, have just perfected and tested a drug called Germanin. It's a complete cure for tsetse-borne sleeping-sickness. It's so secret still that only a handful of men know about it, Dirk told him eagerly, and then went on, Then we will wipe out the tsetse fly in the whole valley. How? Sean asked, and his genuine interest was evident. From the air. Flying machines spraying pythagra extract, or other insect-killers. It was a staggering concept, and Sean was silent a moment before he asked reluctantly, Has it been done before? No Dirk smiled at him. But we will do it! You've thought it out, Sean lay back in his chair and groped absently in the humidor for a cigar, except for one little detail. The Bubezi Valley is a proclaimed area, has been since the time of Chaka, and most of the other ground between the Bubezi and Nkomo Rivers is either tribal trust land, Crown land or forestry reserve. Dirk Courtney lifted a finger at Mark. Get me another brandy, boy. Mark glanced at the General. Sean nodded slightly, and there was silence
