The Dictator
Page 4
the great length of the corridor, sprintingwith monsters behind him. He rubbed the shoulder of his tunic againsthis damp brow and entered the room.
A man Ellaby's own size was sitting there, viewing a 3D. When he heardEllaby at the door he got up. He looked very unhappy as Ellabypointed the blaster at him. He said, "So soon?"
"They said you would try wiles, trickery, deceit," Ellaby recited."You won't fool me."
"You think I'm the Dictator? You're going to kill me? That's veryfunny. I know, you see. I know."
"Stand back!" Ellaby screamed.
"I assure you, I am not the Dictator any more than you will be--"
The Dictator's face dissolved in a red, jelly-like smear as Ellabypulled this trigger of his blaster.
He spent the next ten minutes being very ill.
Afterwards, they were very efficient. They carted the body away and toldEllaby all he had to do was ring for food or drink or anything he wanted.Occasionally, he would sign some papers. Occasionally--masked--he might beasked to review a parade.
And all at once, sitting alone in the room with its pleasant view, itcame to Ellaby. He passed no judgment, but he understood--and he wasafraid.
The masses ruled, thought Ellaby, hardly knowing what the phrasemeant. The system was self-perpetuating, and revolution couldn'tchange it. The common man--men like Ellaby--had come into his own, foronce and for all time.
The man Ellaby had slain was no Dictator. He had tried to tell Ellabythat before he perished. Now Ellaby had taken his place. Ellaby was noDictator, either.
But he would do until the next one came along.
THE END
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