'"A noble gesture—but it won't work. They will just shoot you down."
"Then others will take our places. There is no end to nonresistance. They will keep shooting until they run out of charges for their weapons or take despair at the murders. I am sure that they are not all moral villains like their loader."
"I wouldn't count on it. But there may be an alternative. With Mark's help, we are on a first-name basis you will be happy to hear, I have arranged a meeting of all the deserters in the city. If you will kindly lead me to the sports center we will see if my plan might perhaps be a better and more practical one."
It was a pleasant stroll, the streets of the city empty of fear for the first time since the invaders had landed. We met other groups going in the same direction, each of them accompanying one or two armed deserters. Laughter and smiles, they were cheerful now that they were away from the army—but would they go along with any plan that might jeopardize that newfound freedom? There was only one way to find out.
The sports center had an indoor stadium with a wrestling ring that held us all. The escaped soldiers sat in the lower rows while interested civilian spectators were ranked above and behind them. I climbed into the ring and waited until they were all seated, then grabbed the microphone. The audience rustled into silence.
"Fellow ex-draftees, newly arrived deserters, I welcome you. Most of you don't know me… "
"Everyone knows you, Jim!" a voice called out. "You're the guy almost throttled the general."
"Better luck next time!"
I smiled and waited until the cheers and shouts had died down.
"Thanks guys, it is nice to be appreciated. Now I have to ask you to help. Our dear general, cagal-kopf Zennor, plans to shoot down some unarmed civilians tomorrow. These are the people who have helped you and your buddies escape, who have extended friendship to us all—and a happy home here if we want it. Now we have to help them. And I am going to tell you how.
"We are going to take these guns that we have been trained to use and aim that at Zennor and his mob and threaten to waste them ifthey pull any triggers. It will be a standoff—and we might not get away with it. But it is something that we have to do."
I felt a little ashamed of adding the macho emotional argument, but I had no choice. It wasn't the world's greatest idea and it had more holes in it than a carload of doughnuts. But it was the only plan in town.
They argued and shouted a lot but in the end a majority voted for it. The minority could see no way to leave with dignity—1 said the macho appeal—so reluctantly went along with the plan. The locals led us by back routes into the buildings facing the square and we lay on our guns and slept. I was sure that a number would disappear during the night. I only hoped that enough would be left in the morning to give me a little firepower backup.
At the first light of dawn I was aware of figures moving about in the square outside. I shoved a teddy bear aside a bit so I could see through the curtains of the toy store where I was hiding. The troops were beginning to arrive.
And the prisoners, ten of them, handcuffed and bound, being unloaded from a truck. As it grew lighter I saw that every soldier was an officer or a noncom. Of course—Zennor couldn't trust privates to do his dirty work! They were probably all locked up and under guard back on the base.
Zennor himself stalked from the municipal building and stood in the middle of the square. Just as I heard the rumble of wheels and powerful motors as the heavy gun units rolled up. I hadn't counted on this.
I hadn't counted either on Zennor drawing his pistol and shooting out the toy store window.
"Come out of there, diGriz—it's all up!" he shouted, and blew away a teddy bear.
Did I have a choice? I opened the door and stepped out in the street. Looked at all the guns aimed at the windows where my rebellious soldiers were hidden. Looked at the wicked smile of triumph on Zennor's face.
"I'm a general, remember? Did you really think that your ridiculous maneuver would succeed? My agent has reported to me every detail of your stupid plans. Would you like to meet him?"
One of the deserters emerged from a doorway at Zennor's signal and walked toward us. He wore tinted glasses and a large moustache; I had seen him at a distance before. Now I was seeing him up close as he pulled off the moustache and threw away the glasses. "Corporal Gow," I sighed.
"Broken to private now! Because I let you escape. They would have shot me too if I hadn't been rich enough to pay the bribes. But my downfall is now your downfall. Those other privates, verminous swine, they knew I had been a corporal, wouldn't talk to me. But I could tell something was wrong. When they deserted I instantly reported to the general. At his direction I walked through the city—and was encouraged to desert by the treacherous natives. I did, and General Zennor received complete reports."
"You're a rat!"
"No insults, spy. My rank has been restored by the good general. And you are in the cagal."
"You are indeed," Zennor agreed. And aimed his gun between my eyes. "You've failed and failed badly. Let that be your last thought as you die.
"This is the end ofvou!"
Chapter 30
Well, yes. This was just about the lowest low moment I had ever experienced. In a life that had been, unhappily, quite filled with low moments. I mean, really. Here was this murderous general leering away at me and fondling the hair trigger of his pistol. Behind him were his potbellied troops looking down the barrels of their cannon. While on all sides my disarmed army was being kicked out of hiding and forced at gunpoint into the square. There can't be many moments lower than this.
"You are not going to get away with this, Zennor," I said. Which was pretty feeble but about all I could think of at the moment.
"Oh yes I am, little man." He raised the gun and pointed it between my eyes and caressed the trigger. Then lowered it. "But I don't want it to be too easy for you. Before I blow you away, you are going to watch me shoot every one of these treacherous deserters. They had the effrontery to attempt to raise their weapons in rebellion against me. They will die for this mistake. Then I am going to shoot the ten prisoners, just as I promised. Then, and only then, will I kill you."
"Not if I kill you first," I growled and felt my lips curl back from my teeth. I had nothing to lose. I raised my hands and stalked toward him. And he ran!
Not far. Just to the nearest prisoner, a grandmotherly woman with gray hair. He pulled her away from the others and thrust the muzzle of his gun against her head.
"Go ahead, diGriz. Take one more step toward me and I pull the trigger. Do you doubt me?"
Doubt him? Never. I did not take the step. The world was coming to an end and there was nothing I could do about it. They had the guns: we had nothing.
It was then, at the darkest moment, through the blackness of my thoughts I became aware of the shuffling of many feet. I turned to look just as Zennor did.
Around the corner came a solid mass of people, filling the street from side to side, an endless number of them. Leading the front rank was Stimer—and Neebe!
"No, don't, go back!" I shouted. Neebe smiled sweetly at me. And kept walking at Stimer's side. Zennor had his gun aimed at Stimer now—who appeared completely indifferent to it. Stimer stopped and called out loudly.
"All of you men with weapons—put them down. We will not hurt you for that is not our way…"
"One more word and I will kill you!" Zennor roared. Stimer turned to him, his face cold as death.
"I believe you will," he said. "Until this moment I really did not believe it possible that a human being could kill another. After seeing you I believe it."