“Wait!” Steven cried. “Wait, Peter!”
“For what?”
“You’ve got to let me explain.”
“All right, go ahead.”
“You can’t just say go ahead,
like that. It’s so complicated.”
“All right, Steven. Let’s start at the beginning with Flight 070. Tell me why?”
“We had to do it,
Peter. Don’t you see? There is over four billions of British investment in that country, another three billions of American money.
It’s the major world producer of gold and uranium, chrome and a dozen other strategic minerals. My God, Peter. Those ham-handed oafs in control now are on a suicide course. We had to take it away from them,
and put in a controllable government. If we don’t do that the Reds will have it all within ten years probably much less.”
“You had an alternative government chosen?”
“Of course,” Steven told him urgently,
persuasively, watching the shotgun that Peter still held low across his hips. “It was planned in every detail. It took two years.”
“All right.” Peter nodded. “Tell me about the murder of Prince Hassled.”
“It wasn’t murder, for God’s sake, man, it was absolutely essential.
It was a matter of survival. They were destroying Western civilization with their childlike irresponsibility.
Drunk with power, they were no longer amenable to reason, like spoiled children in a sweet shop we had to put a stop to it, or face a breakdown of the capitalist system. They have probably done irreparable damage to the prestige of the dollar, they have taken sterling hostage and hold it in daily jeopardy with the threat of withdrawing those astronomic balances from London. We had to bring them to their senses, and look how small a price. We can reduce the price of crude oil gradually to its 1970 level. We can restore sanity to the currencies of the Western world and secure real growth and prosperity for hundreds of millions of peoples all at the cost of a single life.”
“And anyway, he was only a bloody wag. Wasn’t he?”
Peter agreed reasonably.
“Look here, Peter. I said that but I didn’t mean it. You are being unreasonable.”
“I will try not to be,” Peter assured him mildly.
“Tell me where it goes from here. Who do you bring under control next the British Trade Union movement, perhaps?” And Steven stared at him wordlessly for a moment.
“Damn it, Peter. That was a hell of a guess. But could you imagine if we had a five-year wage freeze, and no industrial action during that time. It’s them or us, Peter.
We could get back to being one of the major industrial powers of the Western world. Great Britain! We could be that again.”
“You are very convincing, Steven,” Peter acknowledged.
“There are only a few details that worry me a little.”
“What are they, Peter?”
“Why was it necessary to arrange the murder of Kingston
Parker and Magda Altmann-” Steven stared at him, his jaw unhinging slightly and the hard line of his mouth going slack with astonishment.
“No,” he shook his head. “That’s not so.” and why was it necessary to kill Baron Altmann, and torture him to death?”
“That was not my doing all right, it was done. And I knew it was done but I had nothing to do with it, Peter.
Not the murder at least. Oh God, all right I knew it had to be done, but-His voice tailed off, and he stared helplessly at Peter.
“From the beginning again, Steven. Let’s hear it all-” Peter spoke almost gently.
“I cannot, Peter. You don’t understand what might happen, what will happen if I tell you-” Peter slid the safety catch off the Purdey shotgun. The click of the mechanism was unnaturally loud in the silence, and Steven Stride started and stepped back a pace, blinking at his brother, fastening all his attention on Peter’s eyes.
“God,“he whispered. “You would do it too.”
“Tell me about Aaron
Altmann.”
“Can I have another cigarette?” Peter nodded and Steven lit it with hands that trembled very slightly.
“You have to understand how it worked, before I can explain.”
“Tell me how it worked,” Peter invited.
“I was recruited-“
“Steven, don’t lie to me you are Caliph.”
“No, God, no, Peter. You have it all wrong,” Steven cried. “It’s a chain. I am only a link in Caliph’s chain. I am not Caliph.”
“You are a part of Caliph, then?”
“Only a link in the chain,” Steven repeated vehemently.
“Tell me, Peter invited with a small movement of the shotgun barrel that drew Steven’s eyes immediately.
“There is a man I have known a long time. We have worked together before. A man with greater wealth and influence than I have. It was not an immediate thing. It grew out of many discussions and conversations over a long time, years, in which we both voiced our concern with the way that power had shifted to blocks of persons unfit to wield it-“
“All right,” Peter nodded grimly. “I understand your political and ideological sentiments. Leave them out of the account.”
“Very well,” Steven agreed. Well, finally this man asked me if I would be prepared to join an association of Western world political and industrial leaders dedicated to restoring power to the hands of those fitted by training and upbringing to govern.”
“Who was this man?”
“Peter, I cannot tell you.”
“You have no choice,” Peter told him, and there was a long moment as they locked eyes and wills; then Steven sighed in capitulation.
“It was-” The name was that of a mining magnate who controlled most of the free world supply of nuclear fuel and gold and precious stones.
“So he is the one who would have been in control of the new South
African government with which you intended replacing the present regime in that country, if the taking of 070 had succeeded?” Peter demanded,
and Steven nodded wordlessly.
“All right,” Peter nodded. “Go on.”
“He had been recruited as I
was,” Steven explained. “But I was never to know by whom. In my turn
I was to recruit another desirable member but I would be the only one who knew who that was. It was how the security of the chain was to be maintained. Each link would know only the one above and below him, the man who had recruited him and the one who he recruited in his turn-“
“Caliph?” Peter demanded. “What about Caliph?”
“Nobody knows who he is.”
“Yet he must know who you are.”
“Yes, of course.”
“Then there must be some way for you to get a message to Caliph,” Peter insisted. “For instance, when you recruit a new member, you must be able to pass on the information?
When he wants something from you, he must be able to contact you.”
