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"I suppose that is a result of their experience in India. Keeps the slaves quiet." That was his own voice, sounding strange in reproduction.

"I suppose so, sir. Isn't it an historical fact that all successful empires have tolerated the local religions, no matter what else they suppressed?"

"I suppose so. Go ahead."

"The real strength of their system, I believe, is in their method of registration. They apparently were all set to put it into force, and pressed forward on that to the exclusion of other matters. It's turned the United States into one big prison camp in which it is almost impossible to move or communicate without permission from the jailers."

Words, words, and more words! He had played them over so many times that the significance was almost lost. Perhaps there was nothing in the report, after all -- nothing but his imagination.

He responded to a knock at the door. It was Thomas. "They asked me to speak to you, sir," he said diffidently.

"What about?"

"Well -- they are all gathered in the common room. They'd like to talk with you."

Another conference -- and not of his choosing, this time. Well, he would have to go. "Tell them I will be in shortly."

"Yes, sir."

After Thomas had gone, he sat for a moment, then went to a drawer and took out his service side arm. He could smell mutiny in the very fact that someone had dared to call a general meeting without his permission. He buckled it on, then tried the slide and the change, and stood looking at it. Presently he unbuckled it and put it back into the drawer. It wouldn't help him in this mess.

He entered, sat down in his chair at the head of the table, and waited.

"Well?"

Brooks glanced around to see if anyone else wished to answer, cleared his throat, and said, "Uh -- we wanted to ask you if you had any plan for us to follow."

"I do not have -- as yet."

"Then we do have!" It was Calhoun.

"Yes, Colonel?"

"There is no sense in hanging around here with our hands tied. We have the strongest weapons the world has ever seen, but they need men to operate them. "

"Well?"

"We are going to evacuate and go to South America! There we can find a government which will be interested in superior weapons."

"What good will that do the United States?"

"It's obvious. The empire undoubtedly intends to extend its sway over this entire hemisphere. We can interest them in a preventive war. Or perhaps we can raise up an army of refugees."

"No!"

"I am afraid you can't help yourself, Major." The tone held malicious satisfaction.

He turned to Thomas. "Are you with them on this?"

Thomas looked unhappy. "I had hoped that you would have a better plan, sir."

"And you, Dr. Brooks?"

"Well -- it seems feasible. I feel much as Thomas does."

"Graham?"

The man gave him answer by silence. Wilkie looked up and then away again.

"Mitsui?"

"I'll go back outside, sir. I have things to finish."

"Scheer?"

Scheer's jaw muscles quivered. "I'll stick if you do, sir."

"Thanks." He turned to the rest. "I said, 'No!' and I mean it. If any of you leave here, it will be in direct violation of your oaths. That goes for you, Thomas! I'm not being arbitrary about this. The thing you propose to do is on all fours with the raid I canceled. So long as the people of the United States are hostages at the mercy of the PanAsians we can not take direct military action! It doesn't make any difference whether the attack comes from inside or outside, thousands, maybe millions, of innocent people will pay for it with their lives!"

He was very much wrought up, but not too much so to look around and see what effect his words were having. He had them back -- or would have them in a few minutes. All but Calhoun. They were looking disturbed.

"Supposing you are right, sir" -- it was Brooks speaking very gravely -- "supposing you are right, is there anything we can do?"

"I explained that once before. We have to form what I called a 'sixth column,' lie low, study out their weak points, and work on them."

"I see. Perhaps you are right. Perhaps it is necessary. But it calls for a sort of patience more suited to gods than to men."

He almost had it then. What was it?

"So 'There'll be pie in the sky by and by,' " quoted Calhoun. "You should have been a preacher, Major Ardmore. We prefer action."

That was it! That was it!

"You're almost right," Ardmore answered. "Have you listened to Thomas' report?"

"I listened to the play-back."

"Do you recall the one respect in which white men are still permitted to organize?"

"Why, no, I don't recall that there was one."

"None? Nowhere that they were permitted to assemble?"

"I know!" Thomas burst in. "Churches!"

Ardmore waited a moment for it to sink in, then he said very softly, "Has it ever occurred to any of you to think of the possibilities in founding a new religion?"

There was a short and startled silence. Calhoun broke it.

"The man's gone mad!"

"Take it easy, Colonel," Ardmore said mildly. "I don't blame you for thinking that I've gone crazy. It does sound crazy to talk about founding a new religion when what we want is military action against the PanAsians. But consider -- what we need is an organization that can be trained and armed to fight. That and a communication system which will enable us to coordinate the whole activity. And we have to do the whole thing under the eyes of the PanAsians without arousing their suspicions. If we were a religious sect instead of a military organization, all that would be possible."

"It's preposterous! I'll have nothing to do with it."

"Please, Colonel. We need you badly. On that matter of a communication system now -- Imagine temples in every city in the country hooking together with a communication system and the whole thing hooked in here at the Citadel."

Calhoun snorted. "Yes, and the Asiatics listening in to everything you say!"

"That's why we need you, Colonel. Couldn't you devise a system that they couldn't trap? Something like a radio, maybe, but operating in one of the additional spectra so that their instruments could not detect it? Or couldn't you?"

Calhoun snorted again but with a different intonation. "Why, certainly I could. The problem is elementary."

"That's exactly why we have to have you, Colonel -- to solve problems that are elementary to a man of your genius", Ardmore felt slightly nauseated inside: this was worse than writing advertising copy

"but which are miracles for the rest of us. That's what a religion needs -- miracles! You'll be called on to produce effects that will strain even your genius, things that the PanAsians cannot possibly understand, and will think supernatural." Seeing Calhoun still hesitate, he added, "You can do it, can't you?"

"Certainly, I can, my dear Major."

"Fine. How soon can you let me have a communication method which can't be compromised or detected?"

"Impossible to say, but it won't take long. I still don't see the sense to your scheme, Major, but I will turn my attention to the research you say you require." He got up and went out, a procession of one.

"Major?" Wilkie asked for attention.

"What? Oh, yes, Wilkie."

"I can design such a communication system for you."

"I don't doubt it a damn bit, but we are going to need all the talent we can stir up for this job. There will be plenty for you to do, too. Now as to the rest of the scheme, here's what I have in mind just a rough idea, and I want you all to kick it around as much as possible until we get it as nearly foolproof as possible.