"'Article One: No man may be imprisoned for debt.' What does this Article mean to you?"
A fresh-faced boy with an impudent smile and reddish hair speaks up: "Suppose I run up a bill in the cantina and can't pay?"
I explain that debts to an innkeeper fall into a special category. If no one paid, there would be no cantinas and no wine.
The hawk-faced boy asks: "Does this mean that you intend to release all peons even though they stand in debt to the patrón?"
"It means exactly that. We intend to abolish the peonage system."
A mulatto boy looks at me suspiciously. Blank faces of the others show me they know nothing of the peonage system or how it operates.
"'Article Two: No man may enslave another.' What does this mean to you?"
"Does this mean we get out of the army?" the pimply boy asks.
I explain that the Spanish army does not exist in areas we control. Our army consists entirely of volunteers.
"What do you pay?"
"We pay in freedom and equal shares of any booty we take. The gold we have taken here in Panama will be shared equally among the soldiers who took part in the operation."
"I want to volunteer." He smiled and rubbed his crotch. Not intelligent exactly, but quick, intuitive, and brazen. A shameless one.
"What's your name?"
"Paco."
"Yes, Paco, you can volunteer."
"You mean you're going to abolish slavery?" the mulatto youth asked suspiciously.
"I mean exactly that."
"I'll believe it when I see it."
"'No man may interfere in any way with the religious beliefs or practices of another.' What does this mean to you?"
"We don't have to go to Mass?"
"That's right. Nor may you prevent anyone else from doing so."
"That would apply to other religions? To Moors and Jews?" the hawk-faced boy asked.
"Of course ... 'Article Four: No man may be subjected to torture for any reason.'"
"How will you get information from prisoners?"
"There are easier ways of doing that, as you will see. 'Article Five: No man may interfere with the sexual practices of another or force any sexual act on another against his or her will.' What does this mean to you?"
"You mean if I fuck another boy in the ass no one can say anything?"
"They can say what they like but they cannot interfere. If they do you would be justified in taking whatever measures were necessary to protect your freedom and your person, and anyone under the Articles would be bound to assist you."
The half-reader spoke up for the first time. "Sergeant Gonzalez and Corporal Hassanavitch kicked two soldiers to death for sodomy."
"Did they indeed?"
"If the sergeant finds out I told you that he'll have a knife in me."
"A knife?"
"Yes sir. He has a knife strapped to his leg."
"Interesting ... 'Article Six: No man may be put to death except for violation of the Articles. All officers of the Inquisition stand condemned under this Article and subject to immediate execution.' Do any of you know of any such officers present in Panama City?"
"Father Domingo and Father Gomez are officers of the Inquisition," said the hawk-faced youth. "Sent here to deal with pirates. They wanted to burn the English pirate as a heretic."
"Thank you. You will be rewarded for the information." The hawk-faced boy looked at me haughtily.
"I want no reward."
"Good." I turned to the half-reader. "And don't worry about the sergeant. I am having him removed from the garrison." The others were similarly processed in groups of ten. Only fifteen were suitable to be trained as partisans. Ten were obviously incorrigible rogues and troublemakers, chief among them being Sergeant Gonzalez, a snarling buck-toothed two-hundred-pound hulk, and Corporal Hassanavitch, a rat-faced gypsy. These ten bastards were marched to the guardhouse adjacent to the garrison and locked in. In taking leave of them I gave Sergeant Gonzales a bottle of anise-flavored aguardiente containing enough opium to kill five men, enjoining him to share it equally with his companions. He leered at me showing his yellow teeth.
"Síííí, Señor Capitán."
At the prison I summoned the resident clergymen to a small interrogation room. I was seated behind a desk examining papers, armed partisans ranged behind me. Kelley, in accordance with his clerical costume, had left his gun in a corner.
"Gentlemen, this is father Kelley from Ireland." Kelley smiled and nodded unctuously.
I studied a file in front of me, drumming my fingers on the desk. I looked up.
"Father Gomez?"
"I am Father Gomez." A plump face, near-sighted yellowish eyes behind spectacles, a cruel absentminded expression.
"Father Domingo?"
"I am Father Domingo." A thin sour face, autos-da-fé smoldering in sulfurous gray eyes.
"You are officers of the Inquisition?" I inquired midly.
"We are clergymen. Priests of God," said Domingo, glaring at me. He was not used to being on the receiving end.
"You are dogs of the Inquisition. Sent here from Lima. You urged that our companion Captain Strobe be burned as a heretic instead of hanged as a pirate. You were overruled by Bishop Gardenas and Father Herera. No doubt you are biding your time to revenge yourself on these honest men for their humanity."
Without more ado I drew my double-barreled pistol and shot them both in the stomach. Placing the smoking pistol on the desk, I snapped my fingers.
"Father Kelley! Extreme unction!"
The other clergymen gasped and turned pale. However, they could not conceal their relief when I told then that as decent clergymen they had nothing to fear. I reloaded my pistol as Kelley delivered his bogus unction.
"Well, I think you gentlemen could do with a drink." I poured for each a small glass of anise spirits containing four grains of opium.
Sitting on a balcony overlooking the bay, sipping a rum punch as the sun went down, I reflected that the exercise of power conveys a weird sensation of ease and tranquility. (I wonder how many of the ten men in the guardhouse will be alive tomorrow. It amuses me to think of them cutting each other's throats over a bottle of poisoned spirits.)
The summary dispatching of the two Inquisitors was based on a precept long used by the Inquisition itself, which is in fact the way they were able to maintain their power despite widespread opposition and hatred. Brutal sanctions against a minority from which one is generically exempt cannot but produce a measure of satisfaction in those who are spared such treatment. "As decent clergymen you have nothing to fear." Thus the burning of Jews, Moors, and sodomites produces a certain sense of comfort in those who are not Jews, Moors, or sodomites: "This won't happen to me." To turn this mechanism back on the Inquisitors themselves gives me a feeling of taking over the office of fate. I am become the bad karma of the Inquisition. I am allowing myself also the satisfaction that derives from a measure of hypocrisy, rather like the slow digestion of a good meal.
Troublemakers:
Any body of men will be found to contain ten to fifteen percent of incorrigible troublemakers. In fact, most of the misery on this planet derives from this ten percent. It is useless to try and reeducate them, since their only function is to harm and harass others. To maintain them in prisons is a waste of personnel and provisions. To addict them to opium takes too long, and in any case they are not amenable to useful work. There is but one sure remedy. In future operations, as soon as these individuals are discovered, either by advance intelligence or by on-the-spot observation, they will be killed on any pretext. In the words of the Bard, "Only fools do those villians pity who are punished ere they have done their mischief."