Page 17 of Cue for Quiet

I'm the man--" I leaned over the table as far as I could, asfar as I dared.

  "Suggs," and I poured venom down his shirtfront, "the only thing thatkeeps me from despising the Government of the United States and thepeople in it is the fact that I know you're not typical. You're afreak, a monster!" And I threw in another to keep him off balance."You even _look_ like a fish!

  "Remember this, Senator. Remember this one thing; if I ever see, if Iever hear as much as one word from you about war or bombs, in privateor public, you'll live just long enough for me to hear about it!"

  I threw a disgusted glance at the rest of the table. "One thing youdon't know, Senator, is that I can kill you where you sit. Smith!"

  The Old Man was astonished as the Senator, who sat with gaping piscinemouth and pop eyes. "Yes, Peter?"

  "Tell him," I snapped. "Tell him how Kellner found out that I can stopa heart just as fast as I can a truck. And you'd better tell him whileyou're at it that Kellner thinks I'm emotionally unstable, subject tofits of temper. Tell that to the Senator. Tell him what Kellner saidabout me."

  Smith coughed. "I think you all agree that Mr. Miller is a trifle upset.You can form your own opinion as to his temper. As to the other ... well,Dr. Kellner is the top man in his field. He tested Peter--Mr. Miller--verythoroughly. I would give very careful consideration to whatever he saysabout Peter's capabilities."

  Now you can see what makes a diplomat. When Smith was finished talkingit sounded as though Kellner had actually said that I could murdersomeone. And yet Smith hadn't told even a tiny bit of a lie. Lying, asany married man knows, is knowing what to say and what not to say atthe right time. But to get back to the rest. I dismissed Suggs. Iignored him for all the rest of the time he was there. Even when Ilooked directly at him, and that hurt him. I have hopes, high hopes,that might have brought on the real heart attack he had the next day.

  "So," I said generally to the rest of the table, "let's just assumefrom now on that you're dealing with a homicidal maniac with unlimitedpower. Is that the phrase you were thinking of, General?"

  General Legree jumped as though he had seen me pull the pin on a livegrenade.

  "Forget it, General," I told him kindly. "I just read a lot of yourspeeches. Now you, Mr. Morgan, you're apparently having a meeting. Igot here a little late. How about telling me the score?"

  The tension seemed to seep out of the room as tangible as a stream ofwater. Suggs shrank up in his chair like a little old kobold, theGenerals shifted into easier positions with the old familiar creak ofexpensive leather, and the man Smith looked right at me with his righteye closed. I'd said what he wanted me to say, but now what? Where didwe go from here?

  Undersecretary of State Theodore Morgan was one of the career men tobe found in State Departments throughout the world, if by that youmean someone who has had the same job for years. The newspapers likedto tee off on him occasionally, using his pseudo-British mannerismsand habits for caricature. And the great American public, I suppose,considered him pretty much as a jerk, as the public is most apt to dowhen regarding a man who wore striped pants and a top hat in publicand apparently liked it. But the Old Man, Smith--and I never did findout if Morgan was Smith's boss or vice versa--set me straight on a lotof things about Morgan. He had a fairly rough job, as jobs are whenyou do something you dislike merely because policy has been set byhigherups. Let's just say he did the best he could, and let it go atthat.

  He was in charge of the meeting, all right. He knew just how to handleSimon Legree, and without Suggs things went fairly smooth--on thesurface.

  "Mr. Miller," he said, "you made a rather abrupt entrance into theconversation. I think it better if we have it understood right nowthat we prefer to use reason instead of volume."

  "Call me Pete," I said. I knew, somehow that he hadn't disapproved toomuch of what I'd said, and he was cracking down at the outset just toshow the rest that _he_ wasn't intimidated. "Pete is all right withme, since I'm sure that this is all among friends." I looked around,and they were all friends. Especially the two generals that had seenme stop the trucks from the Federal Building window. I don't say theywere actually afraid; just cautious. Just friends.

  I went on. "Maybe I can help break the ice. I suppose you were talkingabout what you were going to do about things in general, and inparticular, me. Well, go ahead."

  So they did.

  I won't bother with the details of the rest of the meeting orconference, or whatever you want to call it, because I don't think thedetails are too important. For one thing, when the first flush woreoff, and I began to realize the colossal bluff I'd gotten away with, Igot a little weak in the knees. For another, Morgan and Smith did allthe talking to amount to anything. Legree, who seemed to be theself-appointed spokesman for the Army, really didn't have much to saywhen he knew that the State Department had all the cards, with me thejoker. The Navy played right along when it was tentatively agreed thatit was to be an island where I would be "stationed," as theyeuphemistically called it; they knew that islands are surrounded bywater, and who sails on the water? The FBI got in their little piecewhen they were made responsible for general security. My contributionwas that I was to be responsible to State, in the person of Smith, andSmith was to be the boss as far as conditions were concerned. When Ibrought that up I knew the Old Man was thinking of all the times I'dcomplained about his guardianship, and wrote him a tiny note so hewouldn't get too pleased with himself.

  "The lesser--or the least--of many evils. Don't get swell-headed." Hejust grinned when he read it, and stuck it in his pocket to save forMorgan, I feel sure.

  Smith and Bob Stein and I were the last to leave, and Morgan's gripfor an old man was firm as we shook hands. "You did an excellentdemolition job on the Senator," he said. "You know, Pete, there is oneof the few people that have made me regret the job I have."

  "Forget it," I told him. "You can get fired. Me, I got seniority in alifetime job. As far as that carp is concerned, you can consider meyour chief steward. I'll run ten miles to take up your grievance withSuggs."

  Morgan smiled politely as he ushered us to the door, but I don't thinkhe knew what I meant. They don't have unions in State.

  * * * * *

  The island isn't too bad. I swore, years ago, with the first cold Iever remember having, that I would never care if I ever saw snowagain. And where I am, there isn't any snow. The beach is yellow asgold, the sun comes up every day in the east and sets in the west, andI've got for my personal use the biggest, shiniest bar you ever saw inall your life. They ship in draft beer for me all the way from LaCrosse, Wisconsin, and Munich, Germany. Every month I get a four-quartkeg from Belfast in Ireland, and I've got all the gadgets I need tomix anything a barkeep could dream up. The ice I get from whatprobably is a six-hundred dollar refrigerator that makes nothing butice cubes. I have a subscription to practically every magazine I everheard of, and I get daily aerial delivery--that's right. A littlePiper Cub with floats drops the New York _Times_, the _Monitor_, and acouple of others every morning--of the newspapers with the leastamount of junk. I used to get the Detroit papers, but I found out ittook too much mental effort to avoid looking at the Vital Statistics,where they record the marriages and deaths.

  I finally learned to play bridge. Euchre doesn't seem the same withouta barful of people, and pinochle is not the game that Stein is goodat. Bob Stein, the poor guy--although he never says one word aboutit--takes everything in his stride. He spends six weeks out of everyeight here with me and the others that form the crew of this littleisland afloat in the Southern Sea. The food is good, and with no limitto variety and type. We can't be too far from somewhere, because everyonce in a while we hear a rattle and banging somewhere out to sea.Once we heard what sounded like a full scale battle. I pried it out ofBob Stein that it was just maneuvers, as he called it. I know better.I see nothing but naval craft, and I suspect that they're not alwaysjust at the horizon for practice.

  National affairs? Well, they're not too bad.
The big noise came whenthe UN wanted my custody and didn't get it. The Old Man once asked mewhy I wasn't in favor of it, and I told him. In theory, yes; inpractice, the UN was too dangerous. Personally, I felt that I couldtrust very few, and none that I hadn't known before all this happened.UN supervision meant that I would serve too many masters, and that Ididn't like. And too, there are too many people in the United Statesthat don't believe in the UN, and might be tempted to do somethingabout it if they thought I owed allegiance to someone else besides theUnited States. I couldn't stir up anything like that, I told him. Deepdown in my heart, I wanted people to like me,
T. L. Sherred's Novels