She had stopped. Now she stood there, fists on boyishly slim hips, glaring at him. “You… you…” Then she caught his grin.
“Ha!” she snapped. “The last time you told me I had a bottle of guzzle, was drenched, and in trouble with a traffic coordinator.”
He continued to grin, the mockery was in his face now.
She spun and marched on. “Someday, I’m going to find out what happened to me during that twenty-four hours,” she snarled. “And when I do…”
They reached a wide entryway which led off toward the gates down the ramp. Rita snapped something to one of the guards, who then spoke into a screen set in the wall. In moments, a low slung auto-car approached them. It was a two seater, and Rita slid under the controls. She dropped the manual lever and took the stick, waiting for him.
Ronny got in beside her and they started down the ramp. He said, “I’ve got an official car waiting for me at the main gate.”
“Let them follow. I want to talk to you.”
“All right. My suite’s at the United Planets Building.”
When they passed the UP limousine with the marines, he gestured to them to follow.
Rita said, “What did you think of Uncle Max?”
“Uncle Max? Oh, the Baron.”
“Maximilian, and a whole lot of other names and titles.”
Ronny said warily, looking out over the countryside, “He surprised me.” This whole area had been landscaped, all the way to the city. Phrygia evidently spared no expense in aggrandizing her Supreme Commandant.
She said, conversationally, “Have you ever noticed the extent to which man can delude himself when considering persons of whom he doesn’t approve?”
“Such as strongmen?” he said dryly.
“Exactly. Evidently, few consider that men such as Alexander didn’t stand alone. Actually, he was the leader of a team. A team of military and political geniuses so capable that they were able to pull down the world’s greatest empire. Men like Parmenion, Ptolemy, Antipater, Antigonus, Seleucus and all the Companions. Can you see the charm he must have radiated, the strength, the ability to draw men of great capability into his service? He must have indeed been like a god. Or Napoleon. Can you imagine the personality that man must have had, the charm, to draw together his team? Men like Ney, Marat, Bernadotte, Lannes, Soult and Masse na.”
She shook her head so that the ponytail she affected flounced back and forth. “No, Ronny Bronston, your strongmen of history weren’t dark villains with a mean glint in eye and dastardly deeds in mind. They were men of exceeding charm and strength, and they became strongmen because of their superiority.”
“How does Hitler fit into this theory?” Ronny said mildly.
“He’s come down to us as the arch villain of all time. And I have no doubt that his victims saw him in that light. But his immediate team evidently worshipped him. Even men of the caliber of Churchill admitted his personal charm, his strength of personality. Without it, he would never have swayed the people as he did.”
They were proceeding toward the capital city at full tilt now, the marines in the car behind having their work cut out trying to keep up with the speedy two seater the girl drove.
Ronny looked over at her, not failing to note the spray of freckles dusted over her slightly upturned nose. “You seem to have read up quite a bit on history, especially the history of strongmen.” He paused, before adding, “Could it be because you see another strongman, Uncle Max, coming along?”
“Obviously, Ronny Bronston. And I want to be part of his team. Don’t you?”
Ronny said, “I thought I’d think about it a bit. I don’t change coats as easily as all that.”
She slowed the car’s pace a trifle and put a hand on his sleeve. She said, an element of inspiration in her voice, “Of course you don’t. But man has come as far as he can, Ronny, along the path as it is now. We
^What future?”
“Eventually, the complete domination of the galaxy, no matter what other life forms we run into as we progress.”
“That’s quite an order,” Ronny said mildly.
“Don’t be silly. I don’t mean within our lifetimes. But only that can be the eventual destiny of man.”
Ronny said, “Suppose I granted that the race could use a strongman along here, a man on horseback, as the term goes. What leads you to believe that Uncle Max is the man?”
She frowned at him. “But isn’t that obvious? If he isn’t, he’ll never form his team, he’ll never come to power. History is strewn with the wrecks of would-be strongmen, who didn’t really have what was required.”
He nodded agreement. “You’re right, there. If Baron Wyler isn’t the man he thinks himself, he’ll land on the rocks, too.”
She drew up before the UP Building and brought the vehicle to a halt, although without setting it down. Her hand was on his arm again.
“Think it over, Ronny. My uncle evidently wants you on his team.”
“All right,” he said. “I’m thinking. Thanks for the ride.” He turned and taking two levels at a time, started up the stone steps. He didn’t turn when he heard her sporter whisk away from the curb.
In the small apartment which had been assigned him, he immediately went to his bag. He brought forth a small object looking something like a woman’s compact or a cigar case. He sat down at the table and propped it before him, activating it.
“Phil Birdman,” he clipped out. “Soonest.”
Birdman’s mahogany face faded into the miniature screen. “I’ve been waiting for you to call.”
“Get over here,” Ronny rapped. “I’m at the UP.”
“Right.” The Indian’s face faded.
Ronny said, “Irene Kasansky. Soonest.”
Irene’s perpetually harrassed face faded in, and twisted into her version of a smile, when she saw who it was. “Hi, Ronny, what’s the urgency?”
“I’ve got to talk to the Old Man, immediately.”
“No can do. Another big conference. He’s browbeating fifty or more presidents, kings, patriarchs and what not.”
“Give me Sid, then. And let the chief know I have to talk to him.”
“All right, but Supervisor Jakes is busy, too.”
Sid Jakes faded in, grin wreathed as usual. “Ronny! Plenipotentiary Extraordinary! Frankly, in spite of that imposing tag, I thought the Baron’d have you into his deepest dungeon by now.”
“Knock it!” Ronny clipped. “This is highest emergency. Everybody, but everybody, has been underestimating Uncle Max.”
Sid Jakes’ eyes widened slightly and his grin was a bit less bright. Not even in the seemingly lax Section G did an agent customarily tell Ross Metaxa’s right-hand man to shut.
“Who?” he asked.
Ronny briefed him on what had transpired.
The feisty Section G supervisor ran a hand over his mouth thoughtfully. “Hmmm. I wonder how it’d work out if you told the Baron you’re signing up with him? Then we’d have you on the inside of his organization.”
Ronny said plaintively, “I keep telling you, this Wyler is no cloddy. The moment I told him that, he’d slip me some Scop, just to see if I was lying. Then, when he found out my passion for him and his ambitions wasn’t exactly overwhelming, he’d see I had a few holes blasted in me.”
Sid said, “Yeah. Possibly, we’d better pull you out of there, Ronny. When you turn him down, the Baron isn’t going to be very happy about the fact that he’s revealed so much to you.”
“You can’t pull me out,” Ronny said. “There’s nobody else here but Phil Birdman, and the Baron is about to send his expedition to the Dawnworlds. If it succeeds, and he gets some of those ultra-ultra devices the Dawnmen have, the fat’s really in the fire. That matter converter. If I get a clear picture, with it he could duplicate himself a fleet of space cruisers that would outnumber everything UP has combined.”
