Border, Breed Nor Birth

by James A. Cox

rickets to syphilis!Eighty per cent of these people suffer from trachoma. My team--"

  "Just a moment," Moroka said. "You mean out in those two trucks youhave a complete American medical setup? Assistants and all?"

  Smythe said stiffly, "I have two American nurses with me and fourAlgerians recruited in Oran. This sort of interference with my work isinsufferable and--"

  The South African was staring at Homer Crawford.

  Cliff Jackson cleared his throat. "It seems as though El Hassan hasjust acquired a Department of Health."

  "El Hassan?" Smythe stuttered. "What, what?"

  Isobel said softly, "Dr. Smythe, surely you have heard of El Hassan."

  "Heard of him? I've heard of nothing else for the past month!Confounded ignorant barbarian. What this part of the world needs is_less_ intertribal, interracial, international fighting, not more. Theman's a raving lunatic and--"

  Isobel said gently, "Doctor ... may I introduce you to El Hassan?"

  "What ... what--?" For the briefest of moments, there was an elementof timorness in the sputtering doctor's voice. Then suddenly hecomprehended.

  He pointed at Homer Crawford accusingly. "You're El Hassan!"

  Homer nodded, seriously, "That's correct, Doctor."

  The doctor's eyes went around the four of them. "You've done what youwere driving at there at that meeting in Timbuktu. You're trying tounite these people in spite of themselves and then drag them,willy-nilly, into the twentieth century."

  Homer still nodded.

  Smythe shook an indignant finger at him. "I told you then, Crawford,and I tell you now. These natives are not suited for such suddenchange. Already they are subject to mass neurosis because they cannotadjust to a world that changes too quickly."

  "I wonder if that doesn't apply to the rest of us as well," Cliff saidunhappily. "But the changes go on, if we like them or not. Can youthink of any way to turn them off?"

  The doctor snorted.

  Homer Crawford said, "Dr. Smythe, the die is already cast. Thequestion now becomes, will you join us?"

  "Join you! Certainly not!"

  Crawford said evenly, "Then I might suggest that, first, you will notbe allowed to operate in my territory." He considered for a moment,grinning inwardly, but on the surface his expression serene. He added,"And second, that you will probably have difficulties procuring anexit visa from my domains."

  "Exit visa! Are you jesting? See here, my good man, you realize I am acitizen of the United States of the Americas and--"

  "A country," Homer yawned, "with which I have not as yet openeddiplomatic relations, and hence has little representation in NorthAfrica."

  The doctor was bug-eying him. He began sputtering again. "This isn'tfunny. You're an American citizen yourself. And you, Miss Cunninghamand--"

  Isobel said sadly, "As a matter of fact, the last we heard, the StateDepartment representative told us our passports were invalid."

  Crawford leaned forward. "Look here, Doctor. You don't see eye to eyewith us on matters socio-economic. However, as a medical man, I submitthat joining my group ... ah, that is, until you can secure an exitvisa from my authorities ... will give you an excellent opportunity topractice your science here in the Sahara under the wing of El Hassan.I'll assign a place for your trucks and tents. Please consider thequestion and let me have your answer at your leisure. Meanwhile, wewill prepare a desert feast suitable to the high esteem in which wehold you."

  * * * * *

  They looked after the doctor, as he left, and Moroka chuckled.However, Isobel was watching Homer Crawford quizzically.

  She said finally, "We rode over him a little in the roughshod manner,didn't we?"

  Homer Crawford growled uncomfortably, "Particularly when we finallyhave our showdown with the Arab Legion, a medic will be priceless."

  Isobel said softly, "And the end justifies the means--"

  Homer shot a quick, impatient look at her. "The good doctor and hispeople are in the Sahara to work with the Tuareg and the Teda and therest of the bedouin. Beyond that, he has the same dream we have--ofdeveloping this continent of our racial background."

  "But he doesn't believe in your methods, Homer, and we're forcing himto follow El Hassan's road in spite of his beliefs."

  Moroka had been peering at the two of them narrowly. "You don't makeomelets without breaking eggs," he said, his voice on the overbearingside.

  She spun on him. "But the omelets don't turn out so well if some ofthe eggs you use are rotten."

  The South African's voice turned gentle. "Miss Cunningham," he said,"working in the field, like this, can have its rugged side for a youngand delicate woman--"

  "_Delicate!_" she snapped. "I'll have you know--"

  "Hey, everybody, hold it," Cliff injected. "What goes on?"

  Dave Moroka shrugged. "It just seems to me that Isobel might do betterback in Dakar, or in New York with your friend Jake Armstrong.Somewhere where her sensibilities wouldn't be so bruised, and whereher assets"--his eyes went up and down her lithe body--"could be putto better use."

  Isobel's sepia face had gone a shade or more lighter. She said, veryflatly, "My assets, Mr. Moroka, are in my head."

  Homer Crawford said disgustedly, "O.K., O.K., let's all knock it off."

  His eyes flicked back and forth between them, in definite command. "Idon't want to hear any more in the way of personalities between youtwo."

  Moroka shrugged again. "Yes, sir," he said without inflection.

  Isobel turned away and took up some paperwork, without further words.She suppressed her feeling of seething indignation.

  Homer Crawford, under his pressures, was changing. Possibly, she hadtold herself before, it was change for the better. The need was for a_strong_ man, perhaps even a ruthless one.

  The Homer Crawford she had first known was an easier going man thanhe who had snapped an abrupt order to her a moment ago. The Homer shehad first known requested things of his teammates and friends. ElHassan had learned to command.

  The Homer she had first known could never have ridden, roughshod, overthe basically gentle Dr. Smythe.

  The Homer she had first known, when the El Hassan scheme was stillaborning, had thought of himself as a member of a team. He was quickto ask advice of all, and quick to take it if it had validity. NowHomer, as El Hassan, was depending less and less upon the opinions ofthose surrounding him, more and more upon his own decisions which heseemed to sometimes reach purely through intuition.

  The El Hassan dream was still upon her, but, womanlike, she wonderedif she liked the would-be tyrant of all North Africa as well as shehad once liked the easy-going American idealist, Homer Crawford.

  Jack and Jimmy Peters, the brothers from Trinidad, entered, the formercarrying a couple of books.

  They'd evidently failed to note the raised voices and wore theircustomary serious expressions. Jack looked at Homer and said, "_Cu viscias Esperanton?_"

  Homer Crawford's eyebrows went up but he said, "_Jes, mi parolasEsperanto tre bona, mi pensas._"

  "_Bona_," Jack said, "_Tre bona_."

  "_Jes, estas bele_," his brother said.

  Moroka was scowling back and forth from one of them to the other. "Ithought I had a fairly good working knowledge of the world's morecommon languages," he said, "but that goes by me. It sounds like across between Italian and pig-Latin."

  Homer said to the Peters brothers, "Let's drop Esperanto so that Dave,Isobel and Cliff can follow us. We can give it a whirl later, if you'dlike, just for the practice."

  Isobel said slowly, "_Mi parolas Esperanto, malgranda_." Then inEnglish, "I took it for kicks while I was still in school. Kind ofrusty now, though."

  "Esperanto?" Cliff said. "You mean that gobblydygook so-calledinternational language?"

  Jack Peters looked at him, serious faced as always. "What is wrongwith an international language, Mr. Jackson?"

  Cliff was taken aback. "Search me. But it doesn't seem to have provedvery practical. It didn
't catch on."

  "Well, more than you might think," Isobel told him. "There areprobably hundreds of thousands of persons in one part of the world oranother who can get along in Esperanto."

  Moroka said impatiently, "What're a few hundred thousands of people ina world population like ours? Cliff's right. It never took hold."

  Homer said, "All right, Jack and Jimmy. You boys evidently havesomething on your minds. Let everybody sit down and listen to it."

  * * * *