"Oh, Whitey, you got a mighty big mouth," Mau Mau said, shaking his head. "Why don't you tell him that this sweet girl was an army nurse and she happened to be in a car with a colonel that had been causing a lot of trouble in these parts. And that that car was taken out by a mortar shell from over a hill and no one knew she was in the car until they heard it on the radio. Now I'm just as sorry about that sweet girl as you are. But how come you didn't tell him about the other sweet girl, the black girl, who had the bad luck to be in a store the next day when a patrol came looking for evidence and shot the man that ran the store, then gang-shagged the girl and killed her too? Go ahead now, tell the press all about that."
"You're a liar!" He spat out the words.
"Me? I'm just telling you what the little boy told me. He says you kind of knocked the old man around before he got killed. He also said that you didn't climb on that little black girl with the others, but you seemed to enjoy yourself just watching. And he said that you were the one that killed her afterwards, put your gun in her mouth and blew her brains out through the back of her head."
l^feu Mau bent over the man on the ground, lower and lower, and every muscle in his body drew taut with the intensity of his emotion. When he spoke again he almost spat the words in the other's face.
"So now I am going to give it to you, you white son of a bitch, just the way you gave it to her."
It was ugly, Bruno felt sickened, yet he got it all on tape. The man fought back, hard, in spite of his wounded arm, but they put him down and brought the lanterns so they glared on his face while Mau Mau stood over him and lowered a rifle an inch above his face. "Got some last words, Whitey? Want to try and make your peace with God?"
"Don't dirty the name of God with your thick filthy lips.” the lieutenant shouted, twisting against the hands that held him. "You black Jew Communist nigger come down here from the North and look for trouble — you'll find it, all of you — because before this is over you are going to be dead or shipped back to Africa with the rest of the apes…"
The gun muzzle pushed against his mouth cutting off the flow of words. Mau Mau nodded.
"Now that's just what I wanted to hear you say. I wouldn't have wanted to kill an innocent man."
Though Bruno closed his eyes when the shot was fired he kept the camera going.
"That. . that was horrible," he said, turning away, fighting to control his stomach while his gorge rose bitter in his mouth.
"Everything about war is horrible," Mau Mau said. "Now let's march before they catch us here." He started away, then turned back to the Italian newsman.
"Look, do you think I like doing this? Maybe I do now, but I didn't start out this way. War brutalizes everyone involved until there is no more innocence on either side. But you must remember that this is a revolt — and that people do not revolt and get killed unless there is a reason for them to do it. And, oh man, man, do we have a couple of hundred years of good reasons! So why shouldn't we fight, and kill, for what we know is right? Whitey does it all the time. Remember Vietnam? Whitey thought he was right there so he dropped napalm on schools and hospitals. Whitey taught us just how it is done. So when we run across filth like this" — he kicked at the sprawled leg of the body on the ground—"we know how to deal with it. People like this you can't talk to — except with a gun."
Bruno was shocked, his hand making little chopping motions in the air before he could choke out the words.
"Do you hear yourself? Do you know what you are saying? This is what Mussolini, the fascists said, when they took over Italy. This is what the hysterical Birchites, the Minutemen, say in your own country. You are parroting their words!"
Mau Mau smiled, but there was nothing, nothing at all humorous in the twist of his mouth.
"Am I? I guess that you are right. They always said that we needed education to change, and I guess they were right, too. They taught us. We got the message. We learned."
He turned away and led them off into the darkness.
Dawn of the Endless Night
I wrote the West of Eden trilogy about our planet Earth where the giant meteorite did not strike 65 million years ago. In these books intelligent dinosaurs develop to share the world with mankind. In history as we know it there were no intelligent dinosaurs. Or were there. .
Akotolp was deeply asleep, immersed in the dreamless and immobile sleep of the Yilane. Then the dawn came and she was instantly awake, instantly aware at the same time that something was very wrong. The light was far too bright for dawn, far brighter even than midday, burning through the gaps between the leaves that walled her sleeping chamber. Her nictitating membranes closed as she pushed aside the vines and stepped out beneath the branches of the city tree.
"It is wrong, all wrong," she said to herself, making the twisting tail movement of intensity magnified. For this dawn that was not dawn was in the west. This could not be, but it certainly was. As a scientist she was forced to accept the evidence of her senses, no matter how unbelievable they were.
The light was fading, slowly becoming dimmer, obscured even more by the figure that stood before her. A fargi; Akotolp waved her aside but she did not move. She spoke instead.
"The Eistaa. . summons of great urgency."
"Yes, of course — now move out of the way."
Akotolp watched until the last glimmer had faded from sight. The stars reappeared, as well as the almost full moon that spread silver light across the city. The fargi led the way, stumbling and shuffling through the shadows towards the open, central area of the ambesed where the Eistaa waited.
"You saw the light," she said when Akotolp stopped before her.
"I did."
" Explanation-expatiation desired."
"Desire to obey — however, insufficiency of knowledge-information."
The Eistaa signed surprise and disillusion. "In a lifetime of acquaintance-friendship I have never heard you admit to any lack of knowledge."
"There is a first time for everything. I am considering this matter slowly and rationally. The cause of this great light is unknown. It is not fire, for I have seen fire."
"What does that term fire mean?"
"Explanation time-consuming, unneeded."
"The fargi panic, my scientist knows nothing. It is all very disturbing."
"A strange phenomenon — but it is over."
Akotolp instantly regretted saying this, for no sooner had she spoken than the earth beneath her feet shuddered and a great sound assaulted them. The attendant fargi wailed in fear and clapped their hands over their ear-openings; some even fell to the ground and lay writhing there. The Eistaa was made of sterner stuff and stood stoutly upright, back arched with legs spread wide, toe-claws sunk into the soil to hold her erect. When the noise had sunk to a rumble she signed great disapproval.
"You did say it was over, scientist of great knowledge?"
"Apology for misconception, humble submission."
Akotolp stretched her neck back, exposing her throat in added emphasis. The Eistaa signed acceptance and rejection of death offer.
"Tell me your thoughts for, feeble as they are, this night you are still the only one who might possibly explain what has happened."
"I cannot explain. Only analyze."
"Then proceed."
"An event of geological magnitude—"
"Definition needed unknown term geological."
Akotolp fought not to disclose her agitation at the interruption. She concealed her movements of distaste by turning and kicking aside some fallen leaves, then settling back comfortably on her tail. She used the simplified motions of night-talk, clearly visible in the clear moonlight.