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    Passenger to Frankfurt

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    give me your arm. We will go into the Chinese Boudoir.

      We have much to discuss, and you will have to leave in

      good time tomorrow morning.'

      The menservants escorted Renata and Stafford Nye to

      their apartments. Nye hesitated for a moment on the threshold.

      Would it be possible for them to have a word or two

      now? He decided against it. As long as the castle wads surrounded

      them it was well to be careful. One never knew--

      each room might be wired with microphones.

      Sooner or later, though, he had to ask questions. Certain

      things aroused a new and sinister apprehension in his mind.

      He was being persuaded, inveigled into something. But what?

      And whose doing was it?

      The bedrooms were handsome, yet oppressive. The rich

      hangings of satin and Velvets, some of them antique, gave

      out a faint perfume of decay, tempered by spices. He wondered

      how often Renata had stayed here before,

      Chapter 11

      THE YOUNG AND LOVELY

      After breakfasting on the following morning in a small

      breakfast-room downstairs, he found Renata waiting for

      him. The horses were at the door.

      Both of them had brought riding clothes with them. Everything

      they could possibly require seemed to have been intelligently

      anticipated.

      They mounted and rode away down the castle drive. Renata spoke with the groom at some length.

      He asked if we would like him to accompany us but 1 ^d no. I know the tracks round here fairly well.'

      I see. You have been here before?'

      Not very often of late years. Early in my life I knew this

      Place very well'

      103

      He gave her a sharp look. She did not return it. As sh

      rode beside him, he watched her profile--the thin, aquiline

      nose, the head carried so proudly on the slender neck. s'he

      rode a horse well, he saw that. " ,

      All the same, there was a sense of ill ease in his mind rhis

      morning. He wasn't sure why ". . .

      His mind went back to the Airport Lounge. The wo.iian

      who had come to stand beside him. The glass of Pihner

      on the table . . . Nothing in it that there shouldn't 1 ;e been--neither then, nor later. A risk he had accepted. ,^y,

      when all that was long over, should it rouse uneasiness in

      him now?

      They had a brief canter following a ride through the trees.

      A beautiful property, beautiful Woods. In the distance he

      saw homed animals. A paradise for a sportsman, a par&dise

      for the old way of living, a paradise that contained--what?

      A serpent? As it was in the beginning--with Paradise went

      a serpent. He drew rein and the horses fell to a walk. He

      and Renata were alone--no microphones, no listening walls--

      The time had come for his questions.

      'Who is she?' he said urgently. 'What is she?'

      It's easy to answer. So easy that it's hardly believable.*

      Well?' he said.

      'She's oil. Copper. Goldmines in South Africa. Armaments

      in Sweden. Uranium deposits in the north. Nuclear

      development, vast stretches of cobalt. She's all those things.'

      'And yet, I hadn't heard about her, I didn't know her name,

      I didn't know--'

      'She has not wanted people to know.'

      'Can one keep such things quiet?'

      'Easily, if you have enough copper and oil and nuclear

      deposits and armaments and all the rest of it. Money can advertise, or money can keep secrets, can hush things up.'

      'But who actually is she?'

      'Her grandfather was American. He was mainly railways.

      I think. Possibly Chicago hogs in those times. It's like poin^ back into history, finding out. He married a German wo-an

      You've heard of her, I expect. Big Belinda, they use " christen her. Armaments, shipping, the whole industri, ":""

      of Europe. She was her father's heiress.'

      'Between those two, unbelievable wealth,' said Sir Sia .^-r Nye. 'And so--power. Is that what you're telling roe?'

      'Yes. She didn't just inherit things, you know. She maw money as well. She'd inherited brains, she was a big faaanci

      in her own right. Everything she touched multiplied itself.

      Turied to incredible sums of money, and she invested them.

      Taking advice, taking other people's judgment, but in the end

      always using her own. And always prospering. Always adding

      to her wealth so that it was too fabulous to be believed. Money creates money.'

      'Yes, I can understand that. Wealth has to increase if

      there's a superfluity of it. But--what did she want? What

      has she got?'

      'You said it just now. Power.'

      'And she lives here? Or does she--?'

      'She visits America and Sweden. Oh yes, she visits places,

      but not often. This is where she prefers to be, in the centre

      of a web like a vast spider controlling all the threads. The

      threads of finance. Other threads too.'

      'When you say, other threads--'

      The arts. Music, pictures, writers. Human beings--young

      human beings.'

      'Yes. One might know that. Those pictures, a wonderful collection.'

      There are galleries of them upstairs in the Schloss. There

      are Rembrandts and Giottos and Raphaels and there are

      cases of jewels--some of the most wonderful jewels in the eWorld.'

      , 'All belonging to one ugly, gross old woman. Is she satisfied?'

      'Not yet, but well on the way to being.'

      'Where is she going, what does she want?'

      'She ioves youth. That is her mode of power. To control

      youth. The world is full of rebellious youth at. this moment.

      That's been helped on. Modern philosophy, modem thought, writers and others whom she finances and controls.'

      'But how can--?' He stopped.

      'I can't tell you because I don't know. It's an enormous

      ramification. She's behind it in one sense, supports rather

      curious charities, earnest philanthropists and idealists, raises

      innumerable grants for students and artists and writers.'

      'And yet you say it's not--'

      'No, ifs not yet complete. It's a great upheaval that's

      oemg planned. It's believed in, it's the new heaven and the ?ew earth. That's what's been promised by leaders for

      thousands of years. Promised by religions, promised by those

      ho support Messiahs, promised by those who come back to teach the law, like the Buddha. Promised by politicians.

      105

      The crude heaven of an easy attainment such as the Assassins

      believed in, and the Old Man of the Assassins promised his

      followers and, from their point of view, gave to them,'

      'Is she behind drugs as well?'

      "Yes. Without conviction, of course. Only a means of

      having people bent to her will. It's one way, too, of destroyino

      people. The weak ones. The ones she thinks are no goocC although they had once shown promise. She'd never take drugs

      herself--she's strong. But drugs destroy weak people more

      easily and naturally than anything else.'

      'And force? What about force? You can't do everything

      by propaganda.'

      'No, of course not. Propaganda is the first stage and

      behind it there are vast armaments piling up. Arms that

      go to deprived countries and then on elsewhere. Tanks

      and guns and nuclear weapons that go to Africa and t
    he

      South Seas and South America. In South America there's a

      lot building up. Forces of young men and women drilling and

      training. Enormous arms dumps--means of chemical warfare--'

      'It's a nightmare! How do you know all this, Renata?'

      'Partly because I've been told it; from information received,

      partly because I have been instrumental in proving

      some of it.'

      'But you. You and sheT

      There's always something idiotic behind all great and

      vast projects.' She laughed suddenly. 'Once, you see, she

      was in love with my grandfather. A foolish story. He lived

      in this part of the world. He had a castle a mile or two

      from here.'

      'Was he a man of genius?'

      'Not at all. He was just a very good sportsman. Handsome,

      dissolute and attractive to women. And so, because of that,

      she is in a sense my protectress. And I am one of her converts

      or slaves! I work for her. I find people for her. 1 carry

      out her commands in different parts of the world.'

      Do you?'

      'What do you mean by that?'

      *I wondered,' said Sir Stafford Nye.

      He did wonder. He looked at Renata and he t; ought

      again of the airport. He was working for Renata, Is v;as working with Renata. She had brought him to this Schloss.

      Who had told her to bring him here? Big, gross Charlotte

      in the middle of her spider's web? He had had a reputation,

      a reputation of being unsound in certain diploma"0 106

      Quarters. He could be useful to these people perhaps, but

      usci'ul in a small and rather humiliating way. And he

      thought suddenly, in a kind of fog of question marks:

      Renata??? I took a risk with her at Frankfurt airport. But

      I was right. It came off. Nothing happened to me. But all

      the same, he thought, who is she? What is she? I don't

      know. I can't be sure. One can't in the world today be sure

      of anyone. Anyone at all. She was told perhaps to get me.

      To get me Into the hollow of her hand, so that business at

      Frankfurt might have been cleverly thought out. It fitted

      in with my sense of risk, and it would make me sure of her.

      It would make me trust her.

      'Let's canter again,' she said. 'We've walked the horses

      too long.'

      'I haven't asked you what you are in all this?'

      1 take orders.'

      From whom?'

      'There's an opposition. There's always an opposition.

      There are people who have a suspicion of what's going on,

      of how the world is going to be made to change, of how

      with money, wealth, armaments, idealism, great trumpeting

      words of power what's going to happen. There are people

      who say it shall not happen.'

      'And you are with them?'

      'I say so.'

      'What do you mean by that, Renata?'

      She said, '/ say so.'

      He said: "That young man last night--'

      'Franz Joseph?'

      'Is that his name?'

      "It is the name he is known by.'

      'But he has another name, hasn't he?'

      'Do you think so?'

      'He is, isn't he, the young Siegfried?'

      'you saw him like that? You realized that's what he was,

      what he stands for?'

      'I think so. Youth. Heroic youth. Aryan youth, it has

      to be Aryan youth in this part of the world. There is still

      that point of view. A super race, the supermen. They must

      be of Aryan descent.'

      'Oh yes, it's lasted on from the time of Hitler. It doesn't

      always come out into the open much and, in other places a" over the world, it isn't stressed so much. South America,

      " { say, is one of the strongholds. And Peru and South ""ica also.'

      107

      What does t) sides look hanc

      'Oh, he's qu

      would follow t

      'Is that true

      'He believes

      And you?'

      'I think I mi

      frightening, yoi can do, and nc way they are s

      cry and screair

      you'll see that :

      'You saw C

      up--people do

      all over the w

      in different plac

      and girls in thei

      and beauty, an

      the young whid

      of the old wor

      west of the Ir

      different Count

      now--It was si

      waves . . .

      'But now w

      destroying. On

      behind it. It's if

      violence, becaus

      'So that is he

      'Sometimes.'

      'And what ai

      'Come with :

      Dante, I'll take

      films partly co{

      pain and violer

      dreams of parad

      is which and w.

      mind.'

      'Do I trust y

      That will b(

      if you like, or :

      The new woric

      'Pasteboard,'

      She looked a

      Like Alice in Wonderland. The cards, the pasteboard

      cards all rising up in the air. Flying about. Kings and Queens

      and Knaves. All sorts of things.'

      'You mean--what do you mean exactly?'

      'I mean it isn't real. It's make-believe. The whole damn

      thing is make-believe.'

      In one sense, yes.'

      'All dressed up playing parts, putting on a show. I'm

      getting nearer, aren't I, to the meaning of things?'

      In a way, yes, and in a way, no--'

      'There's one thing I'd like to ask you because it puzzles

      me. Big Charlotte ordered you to bring me to see her--

      why? What did she know about me? What use did she

      think she could make of me?'

      'I don't quite know--possibly a kind of Eminence Grise-- working behind a facade. That would suit you rather well.'

      'But she knows nothing whatever about me!'

      'Oh, that 1' Suddenly Renata went into peals of laughter.

      'It's so ridiculous, really--the same old nonsense all over

      again.'

      'I don't understand you, Renata.'

      'No--because it's so simple. Mr Robinson would understand.'

      'Would you kindly explain what you are talking about?'

      'It's the same old business--"It's not what you are. It's

      who you know". Your. Great-Aunt Matilda and Big Charlotte

      were at school together--'

      'You actually mean--'

      'Girls together.'

      He stared at her. Then he threw his head back and roared

      with laughter.

      Chapter 12

      COURT JESTER

      , y lel!t the Schloss at midday, saying goodbye to their

      ostess. Then they had driven down the winding road, leav- "8 the Schloss high above them and they had come at last,

      __er "^"y hours of driving, to a stronghold in the Dolomites an ^Phitheatre in the mountains where meetings, concerts u "^""ons of the various Youth Groups were held. eaata faad brought him there, his guide, and from his

      109

      I

      seat on the bare rock he had watcl

      I I had listened. He understood a littli

      [ jl been talking about earlier that day. J [] ing, animated as all mass gatherings i are called by an evangelistic religic

      I Square, New York, or in the shadow i

      a football crowd or in the super demon

      i' i to attack embassies and police and

      j rest of it

     
    II She had brought him there to sho

      | that one phrase: The Young Siegf

      i 's Franz Joseph, if that was really hi

      i] the crowd. His voice, rising, falling, t | quality, its emotional appeal, had hek

      i ing, almost moaning crowd of you

      I [1 men. Every word that he had uttere' I with meaning, had held incredible app

      i| ponded like an orchestra. His voice

      the conductor. And yet, what had th

      |i | been the young Siegfried's message?

      l| that he could remember when it came

      i that he had been moved, promised tt

      iasm. And now it was over. The cr

      the rocky platform, calling, crying
      I fainted. What a world it was nowadi

      II |i | thing used the whole time to arous

      ,| Restraint? None of those things coi

      || more. Nothing mattered but to feel. I I What sort of a world, thought St

      i I make? His guide had touched him on t

      disentangled themselves from the cr

      I their car and the driver had taken

      which he was evidently well acqua

      ' | an inn on a mountain side where to

      , i for them.

      |,1 They walked out of the inn presen

      ( a mountain by a well-trodden path

      seat. They sat there for some mom

      then that Stafford Nye had said age For some five minutes or so they

      I] valley, then Renata said, 'Well?' TO I 'What are you asking me?' ' i. | 'What you think so far of what I

      I;- 110

      'I'm not convinced,' said Stafford Nye.

      She gave a sigh, a deep, unexpected sigh. "That's what I hoped you would say.'

      'It's none of it true, is it? It's a gigantic show. A show

      put on by a producer--a complete group of producers, perhaps-

      That monstrous woman pays the producer, hires the

      producer. We've not seen the producer. What we've seen

      today is the star performer.'

      'What do you think of him?'

      'He's not real either,' said Stafford Nye. 'He's just an

      actor. A first-class actor, superbly produced.'

      A sound surprised him. It was Renata laughing. She

      got up from her seat. She looked suddenly excited, happy,

      and at the, same time faintly ironical.

      'I knew it,' she said. 'I knew you'd see. I knew you'd

      have your feet on the ground. You've always known, haven't

      you, about everything you've met in life? You've known

      humbug, you've known everything and everyone for what

      they really are.

      'No need to go to Stratford and see Shakespearian plays

      to know what part you are cast for--The Kings and the

      great men have to have a Jester--The King's Jester who

      tells the King the truth, and talks common sense, and makes

      fun of all the things that are taking in other people.'

      'So that's what I am, is it? A Court Jester?'

      'Can't you feel it yourself? That's what we want--That's

      what we need. "Pasteboard," you said. "Cardboard". A vast,

      well-produced, splendid show'. And how right you are. But

      people arfc taken in. They think something's wonderful, or

      they think something's devilish, or they think it's something

      terribly important. Of course it isn't--only--only one's got to

      find out just how to show people--that the whole thing, all

      of it, is just silly. Just damn silly. That's what you and I "e going to do.'

      'Is it your idea that in the end we debunk all this?'

      'It seems wildly unlikely, I agree. But you know once

      People are shown that something isn't real, that it's just one

      enormous leg-puU, well--'

      Are you proposing to preach a gospel of common sense?'

      "t course not,' said Renata. 'Nobody'd listen to that, ^uld they?'

      'Not just at present'

      No. We'll have to give them evidence--facts--truth--'

      "ave we got such things?'

      Ill

      'Yes. What I brought back with me via Frankfurt--what

      you helped to bring safely into England--'

      'I don't understand--'

      'Not yet--You will know later. For now we've got a

      part to play. We're ready and willing, fairly panting to be

      indoctrinated. We worship youth. We're followers and i>.

      lievers in the young Siegfried.'

      'You can put that over, no doubt. I'm not so sure os myself. I've never been very successful as a worshipper
      Nobody's going to appreciate that very much just now are

      they?'

      'Of course they're not. No. You don't let that side of

      yourself show. Except, of course, when talking about your

      masters and betters, politicians and diplomats. Foreign Office,

      the Establishment, all the other things. Then you can be

      embittered, malicious, witty, slightly cruel.'

      'I still don't see my role in the world crusade.'

      That's a very ancient one, the one that everybody understands

      and appreciates. Something in it for you. That's

      your line. You haven't been appreciated in the past, but

      the young Siegfried and all he stands for will hold out the

      hope of reward to you. Because you give him all the inside

      dope he wants about your own country, he will promise

     
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