CHAPTER POUR
Ardmore kept very much to himself for the next two days, taking his meals in his quarters, and refusing anything but the briefest interviews. He saw his error plainly enough now; it was small solace to him that it had been another’s mistake which had resulted in the massacres — he felt symbolically guilty.
But the problem remained with him. He knew now that he had been right when he had decided on a sixth column. A sixth column! Something which would conform in every superficial way to the pattern set up by the rulers, yet which would have in it the means of their eventual downfall.
It might take years, but there must be no repetition of the ghastly mistake of direct action.
He knew intuitively that somewhere in Thomas’ report was the idea he needed. He played it back again and again, but still he couldn’t get it, even though he now knew it by heart. “They are systematically stamping out everything that is typically American in culture. The schools are gone, so are the newspapers. It is a capital offense to print anything in English. They have announced the early establishment of a system of translators for all business correspondence into their language; in the meantime all mail must be approved as necessary. All meetings are forbidden except religious meetings.”
“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.”