Black Man's Burden

  VI

  "That is was," Homer said grimly. "Now, go see if you can find my lads,will you? This joker is going to fall right into our laps. It's going tobe interesting to find out who hates the idea of African development somuch that they're willing to commit assassination."

  But it didn't work out that way.

  Isobel found the other teammates one by one, and they came hurrying upfrom different directions to the support of their chief. They had been ateam for years and operating as they did and where they did, each mansurvived only by selfless co-operation with all the others. In action,they operated like a single unit, their ability to co-operate almost asthough they had telepathic communication.

  From where he lay, Homer Crawford could see Bey-ag-Akhamouk,Tommy-Noiseless in hands, snake in from the left, running low andreaching a vantage point from which he could cover one flank of theancient adobe mosque. Homer waved to him and Bey made motions toindicate that one of the others was coming in from the other side.

  Homer waited for a few more minutes, then waved to Bey to cover him. Thestreets were empty at this time of midday when the Sahara sun drove thetown's occupants into the coolness of dark two-foot-thick walled houses.It was as though they were operating in a ghost town. Homer came to hisfeet and handgun in fist made a dash for the front entrance.

  Bey's light automatic _flic flic flicked_ its excitement and dust anddirt enveloped the wall facing Crawford. Homer reached the doorway,stood there for a full two minutes while he caught his breath. From theside of his eye he could see Elmer Allen, his excellent teeth bared asalways when the Jamaican went into action, come running up to the rightin that half crouch men automatically go into in combat, instinctivelypresenting as small a target as possible. He was evidently heading for aside door or window.

  The object now was to refrain from killing the sniper. The importantthing was to be able to question him. Perhaps here was the answer to themassacre of the Cubans. Homer took another deep breath, smashed the dooropen with a heavy shoulder and dashed inward and immediately to oneside. At the same moment, Abe Baker, Tommy-Noiseless in hand, came infrom the rear door, his eyes darting around trying to pierce the gloomof the unlighted building.

  Elmer Allen erupted through a window, rolled over on the floor and cameto rest, his gun trained.

  "Where is he?" Abe snapped.

  Homer motioned with his head. "Must be up in the remains of theminaret."

  Abe got to the creaking, age-old stairway first. In cleaning out ahostile building, the idea is to move fast and keep on the move. Stop,and you present a target.

  But there was no one in the minaret.

  "Got away," Homer growled. His face was puzzled. "I felt sure we'd havehim."

  Bey-ag-Akhamouk entered. He grunted his disappointment. "What happened,anyway? That girl Isobel said a sniper took some shots at you and youfigure it must've been somebody at the meeting."

  "Somebody at the meeting?" Abe said blankly. "What kind of jazz is that?You flipping, man?"

  Homer looked at him strangely.

  "Who else could it be, Abe? We've never operated this far south. None ofthe inhabitants in this area even know us, and it certainly couldn'thave been an attempt at robbery."

  "There were some cats at that meeting didn't appreciate our ideas, man,but I can't see that old preacher or Doc Smythe trying to put the slugon you."

  Kenny Ballalou came in on the double, gun in hand, his face anxious.

  Abe said sarcastically, "Man, we'd all be dead if we had to wait onyou."

  "That girl Isobel. She said somebody took a shot at the chief."

  Homer explained it, sourly. A sniper had taken a few shots at him, thenmanaged to get away.

  Isobel entered, breathless, followed by Jake Armstrong.

  Abe grunted, "Let's hold another convention. This is like old home townweek."

  Her eyes went from one of them to the other. "You're not hurt?"

  "Nobody hurt, but the cat did all the shooting got away," Abe saidunhappily.

  Jake said, and his voice was worried, "Isobel told me what happened. Itsounds insane."

  They discussed it for a while and got exactly nowhere. Theirconversation was interrupted by a clicking at Homer Crawford's wrist. Helooked down at the tiny portable radio.

  "Excuse me for a moment," he said to the others and went off a dozensteps or so to the side.

  They looked after him.

  Elmer Allen said sourly, "Another assignment. What we need is a union."

  Abe adopted the idea. "Man! Time and a half for overtime."

  "With a special cost of living clause--" Kenny Ballalou added.

  "And housing and dependents allotment!" Abe crowed.

  They all looked at him.

  Bey tried to imitate the other's beatnik patter. "Like, you got anydependents, man?"

  Abe made a mark in the sand on the mosque's floor with the toe of hisshoe, like a schoolboy up before the principal for an infraction ofrules, and registered embarrassment. "Well, there's that cute littleTuareg girl up north."

  "Ha!" Isobel said. "And all these years you've been leading me on."

  Homer Crawford returned and his face was serious. "That does it," hemuttered disgustedly. "The fat's in the fire."

  "Like, what's up, man?"

  Crawford looked at his right-hand man. "There are demonstrations inMopti. Riots."

  "Mopti?" Jake Armstrong said, surprised. "Our team was working therejust a couple of months ago. I thought everything was going fine inMopti."

  "They're going fine, all right," Crawford growled. "So well, that thelocal populace wants to speed up even faster."

  They were all looking their puzzlement at him.

  "The demonstrations are in favor of El Hassan."

  Their faces turned blank. Crawford's eyes swept his teammates. "Ourinstructions are to get down there and do what we can to restore order.Come on, let's go. I'm going to have to see if I can arrange sometransportation. It'd take us two days to get there in our outfits."

  Jake Armstrong said, "Wait a minute, Homer. My team was heading back forDakar for a rest and new assignments. We'd be passing Mopti anyway. Howmany of you are there, five? If you don't haul too much luggage withyou; we could give you a lift."

  "Great," Homer told him. "We'll take you up on that. Abe, Elmer, let'sget going. We'll have to repack. Bey, Kenny, see about finding someplace we can leave the lorries until we come back. This job shouldn'ttake more than a few days at most."

  "Huh," Abe said. "I hope you got plans, man. How do you go aboutstopping demonstrations in favor of a legend you created yourself?"

  * * * * *

  Mopti, also on the Niger, lies approximately three hundred kilometers tothe south and slightly west of Timbuktu, as the bird flies. However, onedoes not travel as the bird flies in the Niger bend. Not even when onegoes by aircraft. A forced landing in the endless swamps, bogs, shallowlakes and river tributaries which make up the Niger at this point, wouldbe suicidal. The whole area is more like the Florida Everglades than ariver, and a rescue team would be hard put to find your wreckage. Thereare no roads, no railroads. Traffic follows the well marked navigationalroute of the main channel.

  Homer Crawford had been sitting quietly next to Cliff Jackson who waspiloting. Isobel and Jake Armstrong were immediately behind them and Abeand the rest of Crawford's team took up the remainder of the aircraft'seight seats. Abe was regaling the others with his customary chaff.

  Out of a clear sky, Crawford said bitterly, "Has it occurred to any ofyou that what we're doing here in North Africa is committing genocide?"

  The others stared at him, taken aback. Isobel said, "I beg your pardon?"

  "Genocide," Crawford said bitterly. "We're doing here much what thewhite men did when they cleared the Amerinds from the plains, themountains and forests of North America."

  Isobel, Cliff and Jake frowned their puzzlement. Abe said, "Man, youjust don't make sense. And, among other things, th
ere're more Indians inthe United States than there was when Columbus landed."

  Crawford shook his head. "No. They're a different people. Those culturesthat inhabited the United States when the first white men came, aregone." He shook his head as though soured by his thoughts. "Take theSioux. They had a way of life based on the buffalo. So the whitesdeliberately exterminated the buffalo. It made the plains Indians'culture impossible. A culture based on buffalo herds cannot exist ifthere are no buffalo."

  "I keep telling you, man, there's more Sioux now than there were then."

  Crawford still shook his head. "But they're a different people, adifferent race, a different culture. A mere fraction, say ten per cent,of the original Sioux, might have adapted to the new life. The othersbeat their heads out against the new ways. They fought--the Sitting Bullwars took place after the buffalo were already gone--they drankthemselves to death on the white man's firewater, they committedsuicide; in a dozen different ways they called it quits. Those thatsurvived, the ten per cent, were the exceptions. They were able toadapt. They had a built-in genetically-conferred self discipline enoughto face the new problems. Possibly eighty per cent of their childrencouldn't face the new problems either and they in turn went under. Butby now, a hundred years later, the majority of the Sioux nation haveprobably adapted. But, you see, the point I'm trying to make? They'renot the _real_ Sioux, the original Sioux; they're a new breed. Theplains living, buffalo based culture, Sioux are all dead. The white menkilled them."

  Jake Armstrong was scowling. "I get your point, but what has it to dowith our work here in North Africa?"

  "We're doing the same thing to the Tuareg, the Teda and the Chaambra,and most of the others in the area in which we operate. The type ofhuman psychology that's based on the nomad life can't endure settledcommunity living. Wipe out the nomad way of life and these human beingsmust die."

  Abe said, unusually thoughtful, "I see what you mean, man. _Fish gottaswim, bird gotta fly_--and nomad gotta roam. He flips if he doesn't."

  Homer Crawford pursued it. "Sure, there'll be Tuareg afterward ... butall descended from the fraction of deviant Tuareg who were soabnormal--speaking from the Tuareg viewpoint--that they liked settledcommunity life." He rubbed a hand along his jawbone, unhappily. "Put itthis way. Think of them as a tribe of genetic claustrophobes. No matterwhat a claustrophobe promises, he can't work in a mine. He has no choicebut to break his promise and escape ... or kill himself trying."

  Isobel was staring at him. "What you say, is disturbing, Homer. I didn'tcome to Africa to destroy a people."

  He looked back at her, oddly. "None of us did."

  Cliff said from behind the aircraft's controls, "If you believe whatyou're saying, how do you justify being here yourself?"

  "I don't know," Crawford said unhappily. "I don't know what started meon this kick, but I seem to have been doing more inner searching thispast week or so than I have in the past couple of decades. And I don'tseem to come up with much in the way of answers."

  "Well, man," Abe said. "If you find any, let us know."

  Jake said, his voice warm, "Look Homer, don't beat yourself about this.What you say figures, but you've got to take it from this angle. Theplains Indians had to go. The world is developing too fast for a fewthousand people to tie up millions of acres of some of the most fertilefarm land anywhere, because they needed it for their game--thebuffalo--to run on."

  "Um-m-m," Homer said, his voice lacking conviction.

  "Maybe it's unfortunate the _way_ it was done. The story of theAmerican's dealing with the Amerind isn't a pretty one, and usuallycomfortably ignored when we pat ourselves on the back these days andtell ourselves what a noble, honest, generous and peace loving people weare. But it did have to be done, and the job we're doing in North Africahas to be done, too."

  Crawford said softly, "And sometimes it isn't very pretty either."

  * * * * *

  Mopti as a town had grown. Once a small river port city of about fivethousand population, it had been a river and caravan crossroads somewhatsimilar to Timbuktu, and noted in particular for its spice market andits Great Mosque, probably the largest building of worship ever made ofmud. Plastered newly at least twice a year with fresh adobe, at adistance of only a few hundred feet the Great Mosque, in the middle ofthe day and in the glare of the Sudanese sun, looks as though made ofgold. From the air it is more attractive than the grandest Gothiccathedrals of Europe.

  Isobel pointed. "There, the Great Mosque."

  Elmer Allen said, "Yes, and there. See those mobs?" He looked at HomerCrawford and said sourly, "Let's try and remember who it was who firstthought of the El Hassan idea. Then we can blame it on him."

  Kenny Ballalou grumbled, "We all thought about it. Remember, we pulledinto Tessalit and found that prehistoric refrigerator that worked onkerosene and there were a couple of dozen quarts of Norwegian beer, ofall things, in it."

  "And we bought them all," Abe recalled happily. "Man, we hung one on."

  Homer Crawford said to Cliff, "The Mopti airport is about twelve milesover to the east of the town."

  "Yeah, I know. Been here before," Cliff said. He called back toBallalou, "And then what happened?"

  "We took the beer out into the desert and sat on a big dune. You canjust begin to see the Southern Cross from there. Hangs right on thehorizon. Beautiful."

  Bey said, "I've never heard Kenny wax poetic before. I don't know whichsounds more lyrical, though, that cold beer or the Southern Cross."

  Kenny said, "Anyway, that's when El Hassan was dreamed up. We kicked theidea around until the beer was all gone. And when we awoke in themorning, complete with hangover, we had the gimmick which we hung allour propaganda on."

  "El Hassan is turning out to be a hangover all right," Elmer Allengrunted, choosing to misinterpret his teammate's words. He peered downbelow. "And there the poor blokes are, rioting in favor of the productof those beer bottles."

  "It was crazy beer, man," Abe protested. "Real crazy."

  Homer Crawford said, "I wish headquarters had more information to giveus on this. All they said was there were demonstrations in favor of ElHassan and they were afraid if things went too far that some of the hardwork that's been done here the past ten years might dissolve in theexcitement; Dogon, Mosse, Tellum, Sonrai start fighting among eachother."

  Jake Armstrong said, "That's not my big worry. I'm afraid some ambitiouslad will come along and supply what these people evidently want."

  "How's that?" Cliff said.

  "They want a leader. Someone to come out of the wilderness and lead themto the promised land." The older man grumbled sourly. "All your life youfigure you're in favor of democracy. You devote your career to expandingit. Then you come to a place like North Africa. You're just kiddingyourself. Democracy is meaningless here. They haven't got to the pointwhere they can conceive of it."

  "And--" Elmer Allen prodded.

  Jake Armstrong shrugged. "When it comes to governments and socialinstitutions people usually come up with what they want, sooner orlater. If those mobs down there want a leader, they'll probably wind upwith one." He grunted deprecation. "And then probably we'll be able tosay, Heaven help them."

  Isobel puckered her lips. "A leader isn't necessarily a misleader,Jake."

  "Perhaps not necessarily," he said. "However, it's an indication of howfar back these people are, how much work we've still got to do, whenthat's what they're seeking."

  "Well, I'm landing," Cliff said. "The airport looks free of any kind ofmanifestations."

  "That's a good word," Abe said. "Manifestations. Like, I'll have toremember that one. Man's been to school and all that jazz."

  Cliff grinned at him. "Where'd you like to get socked, beatnik?"

  "About two feet above my head," Abe said earnestly.

  * * * * *

  The aircraft had hardly come to a halt before Homer Crawford clippedout, "All right, boys, time's a wasting. Bey, yo
u and Kenny get over tothose administration buildings and scare us up some transportation. Useno more pressure than you have to. Abe, you and Elmer start getting ourequipment out of the luggage--"

  Jake Armstrong said suddenly, "Look here, Homer, do you need any help?"

  Crawford looked at him questioningly.

  Jake said, "Isobel, Cliff, what do you think?"

  Isobel said quickly, "I'm game. I don't know what they'll say back atAFAA headquarters, though. Our co-operating with a Sahara DevelopmentProject team."

  Cliff scowled. "I don't know. Frankly, I took this job purely for thedough, and as outlined it didn't include getting roughed up in some riotthat doesn't actually concern the job."

  "Oh, come along, Cliff," Isobel urged. "It'll give you some experienceyou don't know when you'll be able to use."

  He shrugged his acceptance, grudgingly.

  Jake Armstrong looked back at Homer Crawford. "If you need us, we'reavailable."

  "Thanks," Crawford said briefly, and turned off the unhappy stare he'dbeen giving Cliff. "We can use all the manpower we can get. You peopleever worked with mobs before?"

  Bey and Kenny climbed from the plane and made their way at a trot towardthe airport's administration buildings. Abe and Elmer climbed out, too,and opened the baggage compartment in the rear of the aircraft.

  "Well, no," Jake Armstrong said.

  "It's quite a technique. Mostly you have to play it by ear, becausenothing is so changeable as the temper of a mob. Always keep in mindthat to begin with, at least, only a small fraction of the crowd isreally involved in what's going on. Possibly only one out of ten isinterested in the issue. The rest start off, at least, as idleobservers, watching the fun. That's one of the first things you've gotto control. Don't let the innocent bystanders become excited and getinto the spirit of it all. Once they do, then you've got a mess on yourhands."

  Isobel, Jake and Cliff listened to him in fascination.

  Cliff said uncomfortably, "Well, what do we do to get the whole thingback to tranquillity? What I mean is, how do we end thesedemonstrations?"

  "We bore them to tears," Homer growled.

  They looked at him blankly.

  "We assume leadership of the whole thing and put up speakers."

  Jake protested, "You sound as though you're sustaining not placatingit."

  "We put up speakers and they speak and speak, and speak. It's almostlike a fillibuster. You don't say anything particularly interesting, andcertainly nothing exciting. You agree with the basic feeling of thedemonstrating mob, certainly you say nothing to antagonize them. In thiscase we speak in favor of El Hassan and his great, and noble, andinspiring, and so on and so forth, teachings. We speak in not too loud avoice, so that those in the rear have a hard time hearing, if they canhear at all."

  Cliff said worriedly, "Suppose some of the hotheads get tired of thisand try to take over?"

  Homer said evenly, "We have a couple of bully boys in the crowd to takecare of them."

  Jake twisted his mouth, in objection. "Might that not strike the sparkthat would start up violence?"

  Homer Crawford grinned and began climbing out of the plane. "Not withthe weapons we use."

  "Weapons!" Isobel snapped. "Do you intend to use weapons on those poorpeople? Why, it was you yourself, you and your team, who started thiswhole El Hassan movement. I'm shocked. I've heard about your reputation,you and the Sahara Development Project teams. Your ruthlessness--"

  Crawford chuckled ruefully and held up a hand to stem the tide. "Holdit, hold it," he said. "These are special weapons, and, after all, we'vegot to keep those crowds together long enough to bore them to the pointwhere they go home."

  Abe came up with an armful of what looked something like tent-poles."The quarterstaffs, eh, Homer?"

  "Um-m-m," Crawford said. "Under the circumstances."

  "Quarterstaffs?" Cliff Jackson ejaculated.

  Abe grinned at him. "Man, just call them pilgrim's staffs. The leastobnoxious looking weapon in the world." He looked at Cliff and Jake."You two cats been checked out on quarterstaffs?"

  Jake said, "The more I talk to you people, the less I seem to understandwhat's going on. Aren't quarterstaffs what, well, Robin Hood and hisMerry Men used to fight with?"

  "That's right," Homer said. He took one from Abe and grasping itexpertly with two hands whirled it about, getting its balance. Thensuddenly, he drooped, leaning on it as a staff. His face expressedweariness. His youth and virility seemed to drop away and suddenly hewas an aged religious pilgrim as seen throughout the Moslem world.

  "I'll be damned," Cliff blurted. "Oop, sorry Isobel."

  "I'll be damned, too," Isobel said. "What in the world can you do withthat, Homer? I was thinking in terms of you mowing those people downwith machine guns or something."

  Crawford stood erect again laughingly, and demonstrated. "It's probablythe most efficient handweapon ever devised. The weapon of the Britishyeoman. With one of these you can disarm a swordsman in a matter ofseconds. A good man with a quarterstaff can unhorse a knight in armorand batter him to death, in a minute or so. The only other handweaponcapable of countering it is another quarterstaff. Watch this, with thefavorable two-hand leverage the ends of the staff can be made to move atinvisibly high speeds."

  Bey and Kenny drove up in an aged wheeled truck and Abe and Elmer beganloading equipment.

  Crawford looked at Bey who said apologetically, "I had to liberate it.Didn't have time for all the dickering the guy wanted to go through."

  Crawford grunted and looked at Isobel. "Those European clothes won't do.We've got some spare things along. You can improvise. Men and women'sclothes don't differ that much around here."

  "I'll make out all right," Isobel said. "I can change in the plane."

  "Hey, Isobel," Abe called out. "Why not dress up like one of these Dogonbabes?"

  "Some chance," Isobel hissed menacingly at him. "A strip tease you want,yet. You'll see me in a haik and like it, wise guy."

  "Shucks," Abe grinned.

  Crawford looked critically at the clothing of Jake and Cliff. "I supposeyou'll do in western stuff," he said. "After all, this El Hassan issupposed to be the voice of the future. A lot of his potential followerswill already be wearing shirts and pants. Don't look _too_ civilized,though."

  When Isobel returned, Crawford briefed his seven followers. They were tooperate in teams of two. One of his men, complete with quarterstaffwould accompany each of the others. Abe with Jake, Bey with Cliff, andhe'd be with Isobel. Elmer and Kenny would be the other twosome, and,both armed with quarterstaffs would be troubleshooters.

  "We're playing it off the cuff," he said. "Do what comes naturally toget this thing under control. If you run into each other, co-operate, ofcourse. If there's trouble, use your wrist radios." He looked at Abe andBey. "I know you two are packing guns underneath those _gandouras_. Ihope you know enough not to use them."

  Abe and Bey looked innocent.

  Homer turned and led the way into the truck. "O.K., let's get going."