'Well, all right,' Brough said grimly, 'but this guy's from Christmas.'
'Mac, why is it so important? I still don't see.'
'Well. A writer can put down on a piece of paper an idea — or a point of view. If he's any good he can sway people, even if it's written on toilet paper. And he's the only one in our modern economy who can do it —who can change the world. A businessman can't — without substantial money. A politician can't — without substantial position or power. A planter can't, certainly. An accountant can't, right, Larkin?'
'Sure.'
'But you're talking about propaganda,' Brough said. 'I don't want to write propaganda.'
'You ever written for movies, Don?' asked the King.
'I've never sold anything to anyone. Guy's not a writer until he sells something. But movies are goddam important. You know that Lenin said the movies were the most important propaganda medium ever invented?'
He saw the King readying an assault. 'And I'm not a Commie, you son of a bitch, just because I'm a Democrat.' He turned to Mac. 'Jesus, if you read Lenin or Stalin or Trotsky you're called a Commie.'
'Well, you gotta admit, Don,' said the King, 'a lotta Democrats are pinks.'
'Since when has being pro-Russian meant that a guy's a Communist?
They are our allies, you know!'
'I'm sorry about that — in a historical way,' said Mac.
'Why?'
'We're going to have a lot of trouble afterwards. Particularly in the Orient.
Those folk were stirring up a lot of trouble, even before the war.'
'Television's going to be the coming thing,' said Peter Marlowe, watching a thread of vapor dance the surface of the stew. 'You know, I saw a demonstration from Alexandra Palace in London. Baird is sending out a program once a week.'
'I heard about television,' said Brough. 'Never seen any.'
The King nodded. 'I haven't either, but that could make one hell of a business.'
'Not in the States, that's for sure,' Brough grunted. 'Think of the distances! Hell, that might be all right for one of the little countries, like England, but not a real country like the States.'
'What do you mean by that?' asked Peter Marlowe, stiffening.
'I mean that if it wasn't for us, this war'd go on forever. Why, it's our money and our weapons and our power —'
'Listen, old man, we did all right alone — giving you buggers the time to get off your arse. It is your war just as much as ours.' Peter Marlowe glared at Brough, who glared back.
'Crap! Why the hell you Europeans can't go and kill yourselves off like you've been doing for centuries and let us alone, I don't know. We had to bail you out before —'
And in no time at all they were arguing and swearing and no one was listening and each had a very firm opinion and each opinion was right.
The King was angrily shaking his fist at Brough, who shook his fist back, and Peter Marlowe was shouting at Mac, when suddenly there was a crashing on the door.
Immediate silence.
'Wot's all the bleedin' row about?' a voice said.
'That you, Griffiths?'
'Who d'ja fink it was, Adolf bloody 'itler? Yer want'a get us jailed or somefink?'
'No. Sorry.'
'Keep tha bleedin' noise down!'
'Who's that?' said Mac.
'Griffiths. He owns the cell.'
'What?'
'Sure. I hired it for five hours. Three bucks an hour. You don't get nothing for nothing.'
'You hired the cell?' repeated Larkin incredulously.
'That's right. This Griffiths is a smart businessman,' the King explained.
'There are thousands of men around, right? No peace and quiet, right?
Well, this Limey hires the cell out to anyone who wants to be alone. Not my idea of a sanctuary, but Griffiths does quite a business.'
'I'll bet it wasn't his idea,' said Brough.
'Cap'n I cannot tell a lie.' The King smiled. 'I must confess the idea was mine. But Griffiths makes enough to keep him and his unit going very well.'
'How much do you make on it?'
'Just ten percent.'
'If it's only ten percent, that's fair,' said Brough.
'It is,' the King said. The King would never lie to Brough, not that it was any of his business what the hell he
