The girl’s face flushed crimson. ‘I was invited to dinner, and I expect to be treated like a guest.’
Sidi Achmet bowed. ‘I am sorry, but that is the way here and since you are a woman you must be with the other women.’
Ling Tao looked towards Grant. ‘Surely our host doesn’t expect a lady guest to be treated like a native?’
Grant was enjoying himself. ‘After all my own fiancée is also standing.’ But he decided to play it cool and smiled towards Aniseeh. ‘As a favour do you think that your uncle might make an exception and allow the lady to join the men?’
There were an awkward few seconds and then the Caid pointed to a place near the bottom of the table. ‘She may go there.’
The last rim of sun disappeared whilst they were speaking and torches had newly been lit when Ling Tao leaned forward. ‘If I may say something?’
‘Why ask me?’ said Grant curtly. ‘Your interpreter is good at his job. Get him to ask our host.’
‘Very well.’ The man was still polite but there was an edge to his voice. ‘Control yourself and do nothing rash, but I want to tell you that our plane is a freight-carrier which can hold about thirty men. Most of them are now either here or in position round this patio and armed to cope with anything. But they have been tactful and your people think that they are still friendly.’
Grant felt Aniseeh’s hand light on his shoulder and saw that her uncle was sitting rigid, his expression inscrutable, but with his fingers beating a restless tattoo on the table. ‘Why?’ he asked.
Ling pointed a finger. ‘We have sensitive radio equipment and someone is always on duty for messages which may come in from headquarters. We used short wave, and while tuning this afternoon our operator caught the last few remarks in a message which proves that this man Grant has been in contact with a station abroad. We must suppose that he has told people not only that we are here but why we are here. So our bargain is cancelled. We shall take what we can and destroy the rest. We shall also get rid of Grant,’ he added grimly, ‘and Miss de Massacré wants to repay you for this morning. But before dealing with your niece we want to know what arrangements Grant has made.’
Grant saw the Caid glance round the patio walls and count the silhouettes of men squatting on the parapets at each corner, their forage caps squat above small round heads as they nursed repeating weapons between their knees. Only one thing bothered him. ‘They will be put to sleep.’ Sidi Achmet had meant what he said. But when would it be done? Or had it already been done? Had someone doped the water supply or slipped a shot of something into an early aperitif? On balance the chances were that dope had been scheduled for coffee at the end of the meal.
He stuffed a wad of tobacco into his pipe, conscious that every movement was covered by a Chinese guard less than twelve paces away. ‘Sure,’ he agreed, ‘I did some talking this afternoon. My own short wave tied up with the Azores where America has a receiving station, and to cut a long story short I’ve been in touch with our people four times in the past thirty-six hours, twice since arriving here and twice from the desert. My last contact was to confirm that in my opinion you were preparing to blow the supply of riodorium sky-high, that no real cash had been deposited in Tangier and that the Caid had finally rumbled you for a big-time swindler who deserved putting away.
‘But,’ he added quietly, ‘things are now so serious that the President used the hot line to discuss riodorium with Mr. Nikita Khrushchev, and my latest advice is that a tri-partite treaty has already been concluded between Washington, Downing Street and Moscow whereby these three powers will come to terms with Madrid and develop the ore for their own joint purposes.’
Aniseeh was interpreting with almost professional skill and Grant marked a subtle change in the Caid’s personality. He knew that both the Caid and Aniseeh must understand that he was bluffing, that a broadcast from the desert had been impossible and that at most he could only have made one call since arriving at the oases. Berbers were themselves master-hands at bluff, more deadly even than the Chinese.
‘You are a barefaced liar.’ Ling’s words cut like knives as he eyed Grant impassively and slowly peeled a banana. ‘We heard a lot and nothing in your conversation tallied with what you are saying.’
Grant lit his pipe and watched a cloud of blue-grey smoke swirl into the darkness as a breeze sprang up and eddied across the garden. ‘The treaty was made possible by the use of Telstar,’ he continued smoothly, ‘and the incident made history, because it is the first time that a space satellite has been used for this sort of political purpose. When linked with television and sound radio it was enough for the three leaders to look one another in the eye as they discussed my report and I am told that Mr. Khrushchev was impressed by the gravity of Mr. Kennedy’s personality as he outlined what had been going on out here. And I am further told that the President was taken aback by the violence of Mr. Khrushchev’s reaction when he found that China was interfering directly in this matter. In fact, your intervention side-tracked him from his original annoyance with America for discovering and developing the use of riodorium.
‘Telstar was in the right place at the right time. But it could only be used for less than thirty minutes,’ Grant continued, ‘and in that time each Head of State got an O.K. from his most responsible physicists that riodorium seemed to be the only answer to the problems of radiation risks in space.
‘Probably no political document of such importance has ever been drawn up so fast. Certainly no two world leaders in history have ever moved with such rapid wisdom and sincerity. Two sentences covered the whole thing. A simple declaration of intention, I am told, and each Head of State watched the other sign it while the proceedings were taped and signatures photographed for records. The whole thing ended as a binding international document. Madrid will be out of the red financially. The Caid will be given good terms and the three great powers will now be able to co-operate for the first time in a project which may completely alter every attitude to life and living within the next decade.’
The atmosphere was electric. But even as he had been speaking Grant saw that men had begun to eat, that fruit was being peeled and coffee poured by attentive servants and that only the Caid with Sidi Achmet had touched nothing. They were both staring at him with a penetrating intensity which was almost more frightening that Ling Tao’s dead-pan contempt.
‘You are lying,’ the Chinaman repeated. ‘Russia and America will co-operate in nothing.’
Grant dragged slowly at his pipe. Anything to eke out time. ‘Not only that,’ he continued steadily, his imagination racing furiously ahead. ‘The new organization has even been given a name. Russia, AMerica and ENgland. RAMEN will open the way to the moon and I can imagine headlines in the world press before many months have passed.’
‘Months?’ Ling’s voice was sharp with the question.
‘Sure,’ said Grant easily. ‘The story won’t break until all eleven hundred tons of that ore have been ferried out and stored. So allowing three months for that to happen I don’t imagine that anything will be said until mid-September. But even then it’s my bet that the news would be such a shock that the question of a Soviet-American tie-up will still have to be leaked slowly and only after a good deal of groundwork to prepare the public.
‘Conceivably either Russia or America could make a public statement at UNO offering joint co-operation with the other in Project Moon and that would be enough to start things off. The other side would then refuse, of course, and say that the moment was not yet ripe or that they didn’t feel that it was worth the money and risk to co-operate. But the public would take that with a pinch of salt and almost overnight become conditioned to any later official news of an East–West treaty of mutual assistance in space research. RAMEN would eventually become a household name and a year or so later results would begin to lead the news. So,’ he added grimly, ‘don’t be so certain that I’m either bluffing or talking nonsense.’
‘But, of course, nothing will happe
n now,’ smiled Ling, ‘if for no other reason than that we shall blow up the supply tonight. But if it is true, either Khrushchev or President Kennedy will die within months. Too many people have an interest in seeing that the cold war continues. Armaments mean money on world markets.’
Grant shook his head. He was calling a slam now on the thinnest hand he had ever held in his life. ‘Possibly. But that is for the future. Tonight you will blow up nothing because I am getting married and this is our celebration party. In an hour or so all the men of the oases will begin to arrive and the women will sit on the wall where your guards are. The men will fire guns and everyone will stuff themselves with food while my fiancée is prepared by her women.’
‘And after that?’ Ling Tao was heavily sarcastic.
‘After that,’ said Grant easily, ‘I shall sign the marriage contract, and give her a wedding ring and there will be more eating and more noise, some dancing and singing, a display of acrobats and camel-racing until we push off for our honeymoon.’
‘And what will we be doing?’ Ling was kneeling on the carpet tensed for anything as he stared suspiciously at Grant.
‘You will either be asleep or dead.’ Grant guessed that the Chinese had listened too long. There was a background restlessness which was new, and the moment was approaching when he must play his trump card. All that had gone before had been laying the groundwork, conditioning for a moment of truth which would decide everything.
‘Dr. Grant,’ said Ling abruptly, ‘you are bluffing to the limit, and you almost got away with it. But I say again that you are a naked liar.’
‘Prove it,’ said Grant curtly.
Ling nodded. ‘I will.’ He turned to a man sitting near the bottom of the low table. ‘Take that Berber woman into the open square and tie her to the post, but if there is anything in what Grant says something ought to happen. So be careful.’
The post was a thick wooden beam buried deeply in the sand and once the centre pole of a summer-house. It marked almost the centre of the patio and was at least twenty yards away from the table, but was caught full in the glare of torchlight. A command in Chinese had smacked out to the guards on the wall and both the Caid and Grant saw that they were now at attention, the patio covered by snub-nosed weapons whose loaded magazines glinted in the flickering light.
‘Let him take you,’ said Grant quietly, his voice solidly reassuring as he stared steadily at Aniseeh and coaxed every ounce of persuasion into his personality. But the Caid’s fists were clenched and his jaw set firm below quivering nostrils when Grant turned towards him and smiled. ‘Let her go and tell your people not to interfere.’
He saw, with the tail of his eye while he spoke, that the guard had grasped Aniseeh by the waist and was pushing her forwards. But the girl was taking it well, and as she passed Grant she wriggled free. ‘My fingers, David,’ she said. ‘They want you to kiss them again. Perhaps this time it will really be goodbye.’
Gently he brushed them with his lips. ‘Don’t worry and do what these people say.’
Even the guards on the wall stopped fidgeting as the girl walked towards the pole and stood beside it, her hands behind her back and steadying herself against the wood. Ling Tao was sucking a pomegranate and flecks of crimson juice had stained his parchment-cream face as he watched two of his men lash her by ankle and neck to the wooden post, her hands tied together behind. When they were finished he turned towards Jacqueline. ‘Your prisoner. And I don’t want her to faint. It will be enough if you make her scream and destroy some of her beauty. But slowly, because Grant won’t talk until his nerve has been cracked.’
‘And then what will I do?’ Already his voice was thick and he had found himself licking his lips as he watched Ling Tao control operations. But there was still a long way to go and several highish trumps up his sleeves.
Ling looked at him impassively. ‘You will contact the Azores and convince them that your estimate was based on hysteria, that the only Chinese people here are a few traders and that the aircraft belongs to slavers. You will say that you built up a story based on rumours open to various interpretations but that your highly coloured mind made you jump to stupid conclusions.’
‘And you think that will delay the arrival of American aircraft tomorrow?’
The Chinaman nodded. ‘That and the fact that Khrushchev would never agree to the States arriving first. Russia will have insisted on a joint touch-down. They are suspicious people and with no reason to trust either Britain or America. Of course, they will still come if what you said is true, but at least it may give me a few more hours and make your alleged RAMEN move more slowly.’ He whined an order to the men who were now standing beside Aniseeh and watched Jacqueline de Massacré start peeling an orange. ‘There is your prisoner,’ he snapped. ‘The orange can wait.’
Grant let her put it aside and then played his ace. ‘Sit down.’ The tone was that of a Guards officer. ‘If you move one more foot without permission you will die, and so will a lot of other people.’ He pointed towards Ling Tao and snapped an order. ‘Freeze. And don’t rate this as bluff.’
The Chinaman sat impassively, his smouldering brown eyes staring at Grant. ‘At least we shall hear you out.’
‘Then get this perfectly clear. Our party was arranged by Caid Farrachi in the belief that you would turn up but that it would be wiser to dope you. However, I rated your danger value higher than that and figured it would be better to poison you. So each banana you have eaten was given an injection and the end point may be clotting inside the most important blood vessels of the body, with death, eventually, from gangrene or coronary occlusion or cerebral thrombosis. The chemical is a by-product from a German firm. But I have an antidote hidden quite near here. So if things go as I wish you will be given the antidote in time to save life. And,’ he added, bluffing even further, though a bluff based upon his medical knowledge and upon the fact that sweat loss on the desert might have caused symptoms of mild dehydration and salt loss in at least a few of the Chinese. ‘In case you think I’m still bluffing ask your men if any of them have got some little cramps in the legs or thighs, if they feel thirsty or have a dry throat, if they have some tightness in their chests or a headache above the eyes.’
The interpreter was now speaking not only to Ling Tao but to the guards on the wall and Grant heard an excited chatter. ‘See,’ he smiled. ‘Some of them agree. Well, then, if you do as I wish they will get the antidote and be O.K. by this time tomorrow. But if you make trouble,’ he added grimly, ‘then we will both die and the whole party will go with us, because we put some of the stuff into your water supply as well.’
Grant had an instinct for highlighting a threat and could use silence as effectively as any actor. Gauging reaction to a fraction he paused for long enough to let what he had said sink in, conscious that not a flicker of his expression was missed as he stared coldly at Ling while tension mounted in a silence broken only by the hissing intake of breath or the splash of water from the fountains.
Calculating on split seconds he watched Ling’s lips begin to move, but before the man could speak he rapped out another command in his parade-ground voice. ‘Die if you wish.’ It was enough to force Ling back into wary immobility. ‘So,’ Grant continued in the same quietly confident tones, ‘the situation is that your men have all had a fatal dose, either in the fruit, or else in your own quarters through the water supply. But only I know exactly where the antidote has been hidden and only I can tell you how to use it. So if anything happens to me you will all pass out . . . painfully and slowly. And another thing. In case any of you have some medical knowledge, none of the existing anti-coagulants can cope with this new chemical, so give up any idea of flying back to Pekin for treatment.’
‘You said that if I was not careful many people would be killed,’ said Ling. ‘What do you mean?’
Grant shrugged his shoulders expressively. ‘I had no way of knowing who would eat the poisoned fruit, or who had taken the water. So I fixed another st
ring to my bow. Seating here was carefully planned and you are now squatting on top of a bomb which can be fired in various ways. An acoustic mechanism rather similar to the gadget Force X used on the microphones in my flat. Remember? But it can also go off with straight vibration, for example any gunshot will do the trick. And finally,’ he added softly, ‘I can detonate it at will by simply pressing the stem of my pipe where a tricky little electromagnetic device responds to a touch on the correct place. Now,’ he finished, smiling broadly, ‘you can understand why I allowed you to take my fiancée away from what might have become a slaughter house, and you will understand why I have been smoking so carefully ever since you showed your teeth a short while ago.
‘Tell these men to drop their guns and stand against the wall,’ Grant again snapped, speaking to the interpreter, whose voice had risen in pitch until he was almost shouting. ‘As for you, Ling,’ he added quietly, ‘stay exactly where you are until Caid Farrachi has untied Miss Turquoise.’ He half glanced towards her uncle. ‘I’m sorry to bother you, sir, but I must use someone who can be trusted to move properly and do the right thing.’
The Caid rose slowly to his feet, a majestic figure in the half-light, whose eyes were sparkling with mixed admiration and rage as he strode across the patio and with a few slashes of a knife cut the ropes. ‘What next?’ he asked, taking up position at the edge of the carpets, his back to the wall and facing directly towards Ling Tao.
‘Get your men to collect the guns and lock the Chinese up. And at least we can be sure they will sleep,’ he added, hoping that the Caid would have enough knock-out drops, or whatever he used, to rise to the hint.
The last guns had been collected and the Chinese were being led away under guard, Ling Tao sullenly eyeing Grant’s pipe and tense with frustration when Jacqueline de Massacré tilted the balance. The orange she had been peeling was dripping between her fingers when she hurled it like a spin-bowler towards Miss Turquoise, its soft pulp crashing against the girl’s cheek and the acid blinding her as it splashed into her eyes.
Miss Turquoise Page 18
