by James A. Cox
last thing he wanted was todraw attention to a man who acted peculiarly.
* * * * *
They made their way out of the food market and into the _souk_ proper,Homer walking three or four paces ahead of her, Isobel demurelybehind, her eyes on the ground. They passed the native stands and tinyshops, and the even smaller venders and hucksters with their productsof the mass production industries of East and West, side by side withthe native handicrafts ranging from carved wooden statues, jewelry,_gris gris_ charms and kambu fetishes, to ceramics whose designs wentback to an age before the Portuguese first cruised off this coast. Andeverywhere was color; there are no people on earth more colorconscious than the Senegalese.
Isobel guided him, her voice quiet and still maintaining itsuncharacteristic demure quality.
He would never have recognized Isobel, Homer Crawford told himself.Isobel Cunningham, late of Columbia University where she'd taken herMaster's in anthropology. Isobel Cunningham, whom he had told on theirfirst meeting that she looked like the former singing star, LenaHorne. Isobel Cunningham, slight of build, pixie of face, crisplymodern American with her tongue and wit. Was he in love with her? Hedidn't know. El Hassan had no time, at present, for those things loveimplied.
She said, "Here," and led the way down a brick paved passage to asmall house, almost a hut, that lay beyond.
Homer Crawford looked about him critically before entering. He said,"I suppose this has been scouted out adequately. Where's the backentrance?" He scowled. "Haven't the boys posted a sentry?"
A voice next to his ear said pleasantly, "Stick 'em up, stranger.Where'd you get that zoot suit?"
He jerked his head about. There was a very small opening in the woodenwall next to him. It was Kenny Ballalou's voice.
"Zoot suit, yet!" Homer snorted. "I haven't heard that term since Iwas in rompers."
"You in rompers I'd like to see," Kenny snorted in his turn. "Come onin, everybody's here."
The aged, unpainted, warped, wooden house consisted of two rooms, theone three times as large as the second. The furniture was minimal, butthere was sitting room on chair, stool and bed for the seven of them.
"Hail, O El Hassan!" Elmer Allen called sourly, as Homer entered.
"And the hail with you," Homer called back, then, "Oops, sorry,Isobel."
Isobel put her hands on her hips, greatly widened by the stuffingshe'd placed beneath her skirts. "Look," she said. "Thus far, the ElHassan organization, which claims rule of all North Africa, consistsof six men and one dame ... ah, that is, one lady. Just so the ladywon't continually feel that she's being a drag on the conversation,you are hereby allowed in moments of stress such shocking profanity asan occasional damn or hell. But only if said lady is also allowed suchexpletives during periods of similar stress."
Everyone laughed, and found chairs.
"I'm in love with Isobel Cunningham," Bey announced definitely.
"Second the motion," Elmer said.
The rest of them called, "Aye."
"O.K.," Homer Crawford said glumly, "I can see that this is going tobe one tight knit organization. Six men in love with the one dame ...ah, that is, lady. Kind of a reverse harem deal. Oh, this is going tolead to great co-operation."
* * * * *
They laughed again and then Jake said, "Well, what's the story, Homer?How does the El Hassan project sound to Zetterberg and the ReunitedNations?"
Cliff Jackson laughed bitterly. "Why do you think we're in hiding?"Only he and Jake Armstrong wore western clothing. Kenny Ballalou,Bey-ag-Akhamouk and Elmer Allen were in native dress, similar to thatof Homer Crawford. Elmer Allen even bore a pilgrim's staff.
Crawford, glad that the edge of tenseness had been taken off the groupby the banter with Isobel, turned serious now.
He said, "This is where we each take our stand. You can turn back atthis point, any one of you, and things will undoubtedly go on asbefore. You'll keep your jobs, have no marks against you. Beyond thispoint, and there's no turning back. I want you all to think it over,before coming to any snap decisions."
Elmer Allen said, his face wearing its usual all but sullenexpression. "How about you?"
Homer said evenly, "I've already taken my stand."
Kenny Ballalou yawned and said, "I've been in this team for three orfour years, I'm too lazy to switch now Besides, I've always wanted tobe a corrupt politician. Can I be treasurer in this El Hassan regime?"
"No," Homer said. "Bey?"
Bey-ag-Akhamouk said, "I've always wanted to be a general. I'll comein under those circumstances."
Homer said, his voice still even. "That's out. From this point in,you're a Field Marshal and Minister of Defense."
"Shucks," Bey said. "I'd always wanted to be a general."
Homer Crawford said dryly, "Doesn't anybody take this seriously? It'sprobably going to mean all your necks before it's through, you know."
Elmer Allen said dourly, "I take it seriously. I spent the idealisticyears, the school years, working for peace, democracy, a better world.Now, here I am, helping to attempt to establish a tyranny over halfthe continent of my racial background. But I'm in."
"Right," Homer said, the side of his mouth twitching. "You can be ourMinister of Propaganda."
"Minister of Propaganda!" Elmer wailed. "You mean like Goebbels? Me!"
Homer laughed. "O.K., we'll call it Minister of Information, or PressSecretary to El Hassan. It all means the same thing." He looked atJacob Armstrong and said, "How old are you, Jake?"
"That's none of your business," the white-haired Jake saidaggressively. "I'm in. El Hassan is the only answer. North Africa hasgot to be united, both for internal and external purposes. If you ...if we ... don't do the job first, somebody else will, and off hand, Ican't think of anybody else I trust. I'm in."
Homer Crawford looked at him for a long moment. "Yes," he saidfinally. "Of course you are. Jake, you've just been made our combinedForeign Minister and Plenipotentiary Extraordinary to the ReunitedNations. You'll leave immediately, first for Geneva, to present ourdemands to the Reunited Nations, then to New York."
"What do I do in New York?" Jake Armstrong said blankly, trying toassimilate the curves that were being thrown to him.
"You raise money and support from starry eyed Negro groups andindividuals. You line up such organizations as the Africa for AfricansAssociation behind El Hassan. You give speeches, and ruin your livereating at banquets every night in the week. You send out releases tothe press. You get all the publicity for the El Hassan movement youcan. You send official protests to the governments of every country inthe world, every time they do something that doesn't fit in with ourneeds. You locate recruits and send them here to Africa to take oversome of the load. I don't have to tell you what to do. You can thinkon your feet as well as I can. Do what is necessary. You're ourForeign Minister. Don't let us see your face again until El Hassan isin control of North Africa."
Jake Armstrong blinked. "How will I prove I'm your representative?I'll need more than just a note _To Whom It May Concern_."
Homer Crawford thought about that.
* * * * *
Bey said, "One of our first jobs is going to have to be to capture atown where they have a broadcast station, say Zinder or In Salah. Whenwe do, we'll announce that you're Foreign Minister."
Crawford nodded. "That's obviously the ticket. By that time you shouldbe in New York, with an office opened."
Jake rubbed a black hand over his cheek as though checking his morningshave. "It's going to take some money to get started. Once started Ican depend on contributions, perhaps, but at first...."
Homer interrupted with, "Cliff, you're Minister of the Treasury.Raise some money."
"Eh?" Cliff Jackson said blankly. The king-size, easy-goingCalifornian looked more like the early Joe Louis than ever.
Everybody laughed. Elmer Allen came forth with his wallet and beganpulling out such notes as it contained
. "I don't know what we'd bedoing with this in the desert," he said.
Isobel said, "I have almost three thousand dollars in a checkingaccount in New York. Let's see if I have my checkbook here."
The others were going through their pockets. As bank notes in Britishpounds, American dollars, French francs and Common Europe marksemerged they were tossed to the center of the small table whichwobbled on three legs in the middle of the room.
Elmer
