monster. If the Israelis bomb a helpless Arab town and kill hundreds, they are striking a blow for freedom; more, they are avenging the famous holocaust with which Arabs had nothing to do. But what are our options? We do not have the military power, we do not have the technology. Who is the more heroic? Well, in both cases the innocent die. And what about justice? Israel was put in place by foreign powers, my people were thrown out into the desert. We are the new homeless, the new Jews, what an irony. Does the world expect us not to fight? What can we use except terror? What did the Jews use when they fought for the establishment of their state against the British? We learned everything about terror from the Jews of that time.
And those terrorists are now heroes, those slaughterers of the innocent.
One even became the prime minister of Israel and was accepted by the heads of state as if they never smelled the blood on his hands. Am I more terrible?'
Yabril paused for a moment and tried to rise, but Christian pushed him back down in his chair. Kennedy made a gesture for him to go on.
Yabril said, 'You ask what I accomplished. In one sense I failed, and the proof is that I am here a prisoner. But what a blow I dealt to your authority in the world. America is not so great, after all. It could have ended better for me, but it's still not a total loss. I exposed to the world how ruthless your supposedly humane democracy really is. You destroyed a great city, you mercilessly subdued a foreign nation to your will. I made you peel off your thunderbolts to frighten the whole world and you alienated part of the world. You are not so beloved, your America. And in your own country you have polarized your political factions. Your personal image has changed and you have become the terrible Mr. Hyde instead of the saintly Dr. Jekyll.'
Yabril paused for a moment to control the violent energy of the emotions that had passed over his face. He became more respectful, more grave.
'I come now to what you want to hear and what is painful for me to say.
Your daughter's death was necessary. She was a symbol of America because she was the daughter of the most powerful man on earth. Do you know what that does to people who fear authority? It gives them hope, never mind that some may love you, that some may see you as benefactor or friend. People hate their benefactors in the long run. They see you are no more powerful than they are, they need not fear you. Of course it would have been more effective if I had gone free. How would that have been? The Pope dead, your daughter killed and then you are forced to set me free. How impotent you and America would have seemed before the world. '
Yabril leaned back in the chair to lessen the weight of restraint and smiled at Kennedy. 'I made only one mistake. I misjudged you completely.
There was nothing in your history that could foreshadow your actions. You, the great liberal, the ethical modern man. I thought you would release my friend. I thought you would not be able to put the pieces together quickly enough and I never dreamed you would commit such a great crime.'
Kennedy said, 'There were very few casualties when the city of Dak was bombed-we dumped leaflets hours before.'
Yabril said, 'I understand that. It was a perfect terrorist response. I would have done the same myself. But I would never have done what you did to save yourself. Set off an atom bomb in one of your own cities.'
'You are mistaken,' Kennedy said. And Christian was relieved again that he did not offer more information. And he was also relieved to see that Kennedy did not take the accusation seriously. In fact Kennedy went on immediately to something else.
'Tell me,' Kennedy said, 'how can you justify in your own heart the things you have done, your betrayals of human trust? I've read your dossier. How can any human being say to himself, I will better the world by killing innocent men, women and children, I will raise humanity out of its despair by betraying my best friend-all this without any authority given by God or his fellow beings. Compassion aside, how do you even dare to assume such power?'
Yabril waited courteously as if he expected another question. Then he said,
'The acts I committed are not so bizarre as the press and moralists claim.
What about your bomber pilots who rain down destruction as if the people below them were mere ants? Those good-hearted boys with every manly virtue.
But they were taught to do their duty. I think I am no different. Yet I do not have the resources to drop death from thousands of feet in the air. Or naval guns that obliterate from twenty miles away. I must dirty my hands with blood. I must have moral strength, the mental purity to shed blood directly for the cause I believe in. Well, that is all terribly obvious, an old argument, and it seems cowardly to even make it. But you say how do I have the courage to assume that authority without being approved by some higher source? That is more complicated. Let me believe that the suffering I have seen in my world has given me that authority. Let me say that the books I have read, the music I have heard, the example of far greater men than myself, have given me the strength to act on my own principles. It is more difficult for me than you who have the support of hundreds of millions and so commit your terror as a duty to them, as their instrument.'
Here Yabril paused to sip at his coffee cup. Then he went on with a calm dignity: 'I have devoted my life to revolution against the established order, the authority I despise. I will die believing what I have done is right. And as you know, there is no moral law that exists forever.'
Finally Yabril was exhausted and stretched back in his chair, arms appearing broken from the restraints. Kennedy had listened without any sign of disapproval. He did not make any counterargument. There was a long silence and finally Kennedy said, 'I can't argue morality-basically, I've done what you have done. And as you say, it is easier to do when one does not personally bloody his hands. But again as you say, I act from a core of social authority, not out of my own personal animosity.'
Yabril interrupted him. 'That is not correct. Congress did not approve your actions; neither did your Cabinet officers. Essentially you acted as I did, on your own personal authority. You are my fellow terrorist.'
Kennedy said, 'But the people of my country, the electorate, approve.'
'The mob,' Yabril said. 'They always approve. They refuse to foresee the dangers of such actions. What you did was wrong politically and morally.
You acted on a desire for personal vengeance.' Yabril smiled. 'And I thought you would be above such an action. So much for morality.'
Kennedy was silent for a time as if giving careful consideration to his answer. Then he said, 'I hope you're wrong, time will tell. I want to thank you for speaking to me so frankly, especially since I understand you refused to cooperate in former interrogations. You know, of course, that the best law firm in the United States has been retained for you by the Sultan of Sherhaben and shortly they will be permitted to consult with you on your defense.'
Kennedy smiled and rose to leave the room. He was almost at the door when it swung open. Then as he was about to walk through it he heard Yabril's voice. Yabril had struggled to his feet despite his restraints and fought to keep his balance. He was erect when he said, 'Mr. President.' Kennedy turned to face him.
Yabril lifted his arms slowly, resting them crookedly under the nylon and wire jacket. 'Mr. President,' he said again, 'you do not deceive me. I know I will never see or talk to my lawyers.'
Christian had interposed his body between the two men and Jefferson was by Kennedy's side.
Kennedy gave Yabril a cold smile. 'You have my personal guarantee that you will see and talk to your lawyers,' he said, and walked out of the room.
At that moment Christian Klee felt an anguish close to nausea. He had always believed he knew Francis Kennedy but now he realized he did not.
For in one clear moment he had seen a look of pure hatred on Kennedy's face that was alien to everything in his character.
BOOK V
CHAPTER 21
