'Oh, my Gawd!' breathed Timsen.
'Jesus H. Christ!' said Max, inspired.
'What?' said Peter Marlowe, thunderstruck.
The King felt like a god. 'Yeah, officers. They're the only bastards who can afford to buy. Instead of a mass business, we'll make it a luxury trade.'
'And the buggers who can afford to buy are the ones you'd want to feed the meat to!' said Peter Marlowe.
'You're a bloody toff,' said Timsen, awed. 'Genius. Why, I know three bastards I'd give my right arm to see eat rat meat and then tell 'em .. .'
'I know two,' said Peter Marlowe, 'that I'd give the meat to, let alone sell to. But if you gave it to the buggers — they're so cheap they'd smell a rat!'
Max got up and shouted above the laughter, 'Listen, you guys. Listen.
Listen a minute.' He turned to the King. 'You know, I've, well, I've —' He was so moved that it was difficult for him to speak. 'I've — I haven't always been on your side. No harm in that. It's a free country. But this -
this is such a huge - such a - that, well —' He stuck out his hand solemnly.
'I'd like to shake the hand of the man that thought of that idea! I think we should all shake the hand of true genius. On behalf of all the enlisted men in the world — I'm proud of you. The King!'
Max and the King shook hands.
Tex was swaying exuberantly from side to side. 'Sellars and Prouty and Grey — he's on the list…'
'He's got no money,' the King said.
'Hell, we'll give him some,' Max said.
'We can't do that. Grey's no fool. He'd be suspicious,' Peter Marlowe said.
'What about Thorsen - that bastard —'
'None of the Yank officers. Well,' said the King delicately, 'maybe one or two.'
The cheer was quickly squashed.
'How about the Aussies?'
'Leave that to me, mate,' said Timsen. 'I've already got three dozen customers in mind.'
'What about the Limeys?' Max said.
'We can all think of some of them.' The King felt huge and powerful and ecstatic. 'It's lucky the bastards who've the dough, or the means to get the dough, are the ones you want to feed and then tell what it is they've eaten,' he said.
Just before lights-out, Max hurried through the doorless doorway and whispered to the King, 'A guard's heading this way.'
'Who?'
'Shagata.'
'Okay,' said the King, trying to keep his voice level. 'Check that all our guards are in position.'
'Okay.' Max hurried away.
The King bent close to Peter Marlowe. 'Maybe there's a slip-up,' he said nervously. 'Come on, we'd better get ready.'
He slipped out of the window and made sure the canvas overhang was in position. Then he and Peter Marlowe sat under it and waited.
Shagata poked his head under the canvas, and when he recognized the King, he quietly slipped into the overhang and sat down. He propped his rifle against the wall and offered a pack of Kooas.
'Tabe,' he said.
'Tabe,' Peter Marlowe replied.
'Hi,' said the King. His hand was shaking as he took the cigarette.
'Thou hast something to sell me tonight?' Shagata asked sibilantly.
'He asks if you've anything to sell him tonight.'
'Tell him no!'
'My friend is overwhelmed that he has nothing to tempt a man of taste this evening.'
'Would your friend have such an article in say three days?'
The King sighed with relief when Peter Marlowe translated this. 'Tell him yes. And tell him he's wise to check.'
'My friend says that it is probable that on that day he would have something to tempt a man of taste. And my friend adds that he feels that to do business with such a careful man is a good portent for .the satisfactory conclusion of said transaction.'
'It is always wise when matters must be arranged in the bleakness of night.' Shagata-san sucked in his breath. 'If I do not arrive in three nights, wait each night for me. A mutual friend has indicated that he may not be able to do his part with complete accuracy. But I am assured that it will be three nights from tonight.'
Shagata got up and gave the pack of cigarettes to the King. A slight bow and the darkness took him once
